Chapter 54: Difficult Heights Of The Powerful

Today, Ji Zhen Tang was too emotional. Fortunately, he noticed quickly and helped smooth down those sensitive, vigilant antennae she had raised. The moment of redemption felt like all her senses had been twisted, and after the initial pain, she was left with a clarity and relief.

She remembered asking him once if he would make the person he loved feel insecure. He had said, “No.”

Thinking of that answer, and after a bout of tears, everything inside her felt clearer. 

Ji Zhen Tang said, “How can you say you don’t know? You should say you’re the most devoted, the most passionate under the heavens, and act in a way that makes me believe it.”

“Praising oneself is too shallow,” Zhong Yu Bai said, nuzzling her soft, slightly flushed face with a hint of mockery. “You should be more cautious about men, but the moment you shed a tear, it all disappears.”

“Got it, people hide their hearts,” Ji Zhen Tang muttered, “But I don’t want to be cautious with you.”

Immediately, he picked her up in his arms, her tear-streaked face catching the light. He looked down, noticing her expression had softened, with glistening tears hanging on her lashes like little stars.

“Still unhappy?” Zhong Yu Bai gently kissed the corner of her mouth, coaxing, “I’ll work a little harder.”

She broke into a laugh, “Yes, yes, more effort!”

Ji Zhen Tang wrapped her legs around him like a bow, entwining them behind his waist.

The movie was left on its own, as the two off-screen slipped into their own romance, unable to focus on anything else. He held her, bare feet on the warm, soft carpet, taking slow, deliberate steps toward the stairs with an easy rhythm. 

Once they reached the room, her legs, which had been tightly wrapped around him, slid down from exhaustion. Zhong Yu Bai steadied her by the knees, feeling her tighten in every way.

He often changed the bedsheets at home, so that when she lay down on the beautiful bed, she would feel comfortable.

The word “new” was essential to her. She needed to break through the old, the empty, and find fresh romance and joy in the tiny details he arranged.

Zhong Yu Bai clasped her fingers tightly in his, pressing gentle, delicate kisses over her birthmark, a tiny red heart trapped under his soft, light lips.Then he moved forward, letting his lips meet hers, both of them exhaling warm breath that merged in the space between his teeth.

His kiss was tender and slow. She lay within the faint tickling sensation, gradually adapting, until his thumb pressed down, crushing her other heart suddenly.

Ji Zhen Tang nearly lost her mind.

The back of her head, pressed against the pillow, went numb, a flash of white light before her eyes. Only her waist sank into the soft mattress as her entire body sounded alarms, tensing in anxious response.

She struggled to lift her eyelids, meeting his exploring tongue and deep, intense gaze.

His touch was relentless, almost brutal in its roughness, the pressure so overwhelming it left her utterly unraveled.

In his kiss, Ji Zhen Tang drifted off, dozing into sleep.

Zhong Yu Bai was still up early. He washed up, got himself ready, and even took a phone call. When he re-entered the room, she was still sprawled out on the bed.

He put his phone away; no work today—he was spending the weekend with her.

He noticed a denim jacket draped over the back of a chair, slipping off the edge. He reached out to adjust it, and as the fabric tilted, a hairpin fell out. 

Zhong Yu Bai picked it up—a hair clip adorned with a begonia petal.

He held it in his hand, staring intently. It was old, worn with age, and the metal clip had rusted from water exposure, but the petal’s decorative color remained unblemished, with a faint clarity.

Memories flooded back, filling his heart. When he’d given this hairpin to a little girl, he hadn’t imagined it would be their last time together. Nor could he have guessed that, after all the mountains and rivers they’d traversed, they would meet again.

Back then, he hadn’t known her full Chinese name, and when he’d asked, she had simply said, “Tang.”

That was the only character she could write, tracing it into his palm.

“This is my name, Tang.”

His mother had taught her to write it. Zhong Yu Bai smiled subtly. He slipped the hairpin back into her jacket pocket. Then he knelt on one knee by the bed, leaned over, and planted a soft kiss by her ear.

He kissed her earlobe, unadorned by any pearl earring, and whispered low, “Time to wake up, Mrs. Zhong.”

“…”

She was dead tired, but that one phrase jolted her wide awake.

Ji Zhen Tang looked at him with a mix of emotions, rubbing her eyes in sleepy confusion. “Did… did you just call me something?”

Zhong Yu Bai laughed and asked, “So, does it feel like having a husband now?”

“…” She was filled with a mix of emotions and took a while to react before awkwardly smiling, “Goodness, I thought I was dreaming.”

She ruffled her hair to cover her embarrassment.

Zhong Yu Bai’s smile was both gentlemanly and refined. Bathed in light, his tall frame was outlined in gold, noble and elegant, like he’d stepped right out of a dream.

He curled a finger and tapped her nose. “It’s not early. Come and watch me cook; chances like this are rare.”

Ji Zhen Tang knew she was fully awake, yet the perfect nature of this moment made her feel like she might still be dreaming.

She smiled, “Okay!”

After an emotional night, his affectionate kisses and hugs quickly revived her spirits. Especially with a table full of delicious dishes awaiting, she felt all her worries melt away as she sat at the steaming table.

Ji Zhen Tang could finally relax and eat without watching anyone’s reactions. She picked up a chicken drumstick, biting into it with relish. “I’m not doubting you or anything; it’s just that you’re really amazing. I can’t believe it—you nailed it on your first try, and it’s this good.”

Across from her, Zhong Yu Bai calmly watched her eat and said, “There were a few trial runs, though you didn’t get to see them.”

She continued to eat, studying him thoughtfully.

Zhong Yu Bai was looking at his phone when she suddenly remembered the message she’d seen from his father yesterday, causing her heart to skip a beat and her smile to fade.

“So, I wanted to ask you something.”

He barely glanced up, nodding, “Ask away.”

“Well… even if your dad’s a bit old-fashioned, do his views influence you at all?”

Zhong Yu Bai replied nonchalantly, “If anything, he worries that I might influence him.”

“Huh?” She blinked, not entirely grasping the deeper meaning.

He didn’t elaborate further and instead shared an update. “The tea estate is about to launch its new brand, named by Shen Shu—‘Yuyun Villa.’ If you think it’s fine, I can pass along any feedback.”

“It’s fine with me,” Ji Zhen Tang nodded, curious. “Though, Yuyun Building, Yuyun Villa—who’s Yuyun?”

Zhong Yu Bai didn’t seem to know either, replying, “Probably someone very dear.”

He continued, “Shen Shu is a minor shareholder under your management now. He’ll follow your lead, and naming is just the beginning.”

Ji Zhen Tang nodded in confusion, “Oh, alright. Can I ask you if I don’t understand something?”

“Of course.” Zhong Yu Bai nodded, adding, “As for your father, whether he wants to be your subcontractor or a shareholder, he’ll have to defer to you.”

“…” 

Mention of Ji Huan made her frown, and then she heard him say—

“This property has excellent feng shui. It’s bound to succeed in business. Someone with his kind of greed, having you as a bridge, might indeed start scheming for more.”

Despite not knowing him well, Zhong Yu Bai could clearly see Ji Huan’s greed.

Ji Zhen Tang laughed, missing the point. “All this talk—municipal development, resorts—and in the end, it’s Buddha’s word: good feng shui means good business.”

She shook her head. “Don’t bring up my dad; it’s such a buzzkill. I won’t partner with him. I’ll make my fortune on my own.”

Zhong Yu Bai nodded gently, “However you like. It’s your choice.”

She then asked, “Is Shen Shu a good person?”

“He’s very kind and moderate—a good friend to have.”

Ji Zhen Tang thought for a moment. “A friend? If I were to be friends with him, wouldn’t it be quite the age gap friendship, haha.”

Although they were only talking about Shen Shu, Zhong Yu Bai felt a slight pang in his heart, and in a somewhat serious tone, he reminded her, “He’s five years older than me.”

Without hesitation, she replied, “Exactly, and we’re the ones with the age-gap romance.”

“…”

He paused, then chuckled.

He was used to her provocations; such teasing had little effect on him.

Ji Zhen Tang put down her bowl, moved closer to him, and lightly touched his chin, studying him closely. “You shave every day?”

He looked at her and replied that he did.

“Then why does it still feel so prickly? It’s like you’re trying to poke me to death.” Ji Zhen Tang felt the slight roughness on his chin, brushing her fingers over the faint texture.

Zhong Yu Bai gently grasped her wrist and, with a serious tone, explained, “If a flower is delicate, even the slightest friction will feel overwhelming.”

Ji Zhen Tang smiled. “That makes sense, but I actually kind of like it.”

Feigning curiosity, he looked at her. “Like what?”

She brushed her fingers near his lips, smiling silently.

He let her feel the sensation for a moment, then, in the midst of their playful moment, abruptly shifted the topic, saying, “The message he sent me yesterday was unnecessary, so I didn’t reply.”

Ji Zhen Tang’s hand, which had been lightly touching his cheek, paused.

It seemed he had guessed that his dad’s message, which she had secretly seen earlier, was something he was aware of. That ominous warning about “lessons from the past” had practically made her break out in a cold sweat.

Amid her silence, he continued, “If I wanted my dad to retire, I could call his school right now, and he’d lose his job by the end of the day.”

“…”

His calm tone was a way of explaining what he had said earlier: he should be the one worried about whether she would influence him.

Zhong Yu Bai’s voice was steady, reassuring her, wanting to return a sense of security to her—

“There isn’t just one kind of father-son relationship in this world. In the Zhong family, what matters most is who holds the power.”

“…”

“Understand?”

In essence, he was saying that his father couldn’t interfere with them at all.

Ji Zhen Tang understood it all and remembered it clearly. She nodded slightly and honestly admitted, “I did see the message he sent you, and it really unsettled me. But now, after what you’ve said, I feel a bit better.”

“As long as you feel better,” Zhong Yu Bai replied, pointing to her half-finished bowl. “Want any more?”

Ji Zhen Tang didn’t answer.

She looked at him, recalling the day Zhu Qingying was trying on clothes. Standing at the door, she had called out to Chen Ke, blurting out a strange question, “Are you part of the Chen family?”

Chen Ke hadn’t paid her much mind, busy admiring his wife’s beauty. Later, noticing the girl by his side with a pensive look and an unspoken question, he kindly approached her and asked, “What was it you wanted to ask just now?”

Ji Zhen Tang felt the timing was off, so she didn’t continue. She shook her head, saying, “Nothing, you two go try on clothes.”

He didn’t press any further.

Yesterday, on her way to Shen Zhang Garden with the hairpin, after much hesitation, she finally sent a message to Chen Ke. She didn’t dare ask Zhong Yu Bai directly; the closer she got to the truth, the more afraid she became.

So, she chose to take a roundabout approach, reaching out to someone close to him. Her message read: “I’d like to know, what’s his mother’s name?”

But the chat remained silent for a long time.

Chen Ke didn’t reply until late last night, so she only saw his response this morning. Three words:

**Chen Yinglian**.

All her suspicions, everything that had been hanging in the balance, finally settled.

That was indeed the name.

His mother.

That morning, after getting dressed, Ji Zhen Tang stood behind her bedroom door, frozen in thought for a long time. Years ago, when leaving Xingzhou, her mother had told her, “Ah Zhen, today’s events must stay buried within you. Avoid conflicts that don’t concern you—preserving your life is what matters.”

She had taken those words to heart.

But now, old matters were linking to present circumstances.

Suddenly, she recognized a question she had always avoided, realizing that since she never considered a future with him, she had also never considered just how deep the turmoil within the Zhong family went.

Ji Zhen Tang looked silently at Zhong Yu Bai, her fingers pushing the hairpin further down into her pocket.

Years ago, as a young girl at a relative’s wedding, she had overheard people talking about the Zhong family. The “Zhong” in their name, as they said, was the “Zhong” in “Zhongming Dingshi” (a phrase symbolizing wealth and nobility). They spoke at length about the challenges of marrying into a powerful family, saying it was beyond most people’s reach.

Years later, just as she finally began to grasp the meaning of those words, she found herself already standing on the most dangerous path, with no way back.

Oblivious to her silent pondering, Zhong Yu Bai took her bowl and added more vegetables to it.

He didn’t tell her not to waste food outright but instead recited a couple of “Farmers’ Lament” verses.

Moral persuasion always hit hardest, and Ji Zhen Tang laughed in response.

But a moment later, she suddenly remembered something, and her laughter froze abruptly.

As a child, she didn’t like rice and would often leave her bowl barely touched.

The young master of the Chen family, noticing this, taught her a Chinese poem: “The farmer hoes at noon, sweat dripping onto the field. Who knows the food on the plate comes from hard labor?”

That wasn’t the only thing he’d taught her. Over time, he had passed on bits of knowledge, simple culture, and plain truths, at a time when she was still a naive girl, just beginning to understand the world.

Ji Zhen Tang sat on Zhong Yu Bai’s lap, gazing intently at the side of his face.

With one arm wrapped around her waist, he used the other to steadily place food on her plate. When he finished arranging the dishes, he looked up at her expression, which seemed as if something was caught in her throat. Surprised, he asked quietly, “Does it not taste good?”

Ji Zhen Tang grinned widely. “No, it’s delicious! I could eat three more bowls!”

Amused by her exaggeration, he responded softly, “One bowl is fine. Eating too much will just make you uncomfortable.”

That refined, considerate boy, with his gentle understanding, lived deep within her memories. And in the warmth of this afternoon, his distant figure overlapped with Zhong Yu Bai’s features, finally bringing into focus a clear image.

Since childhood, he was always the one who gave her glass slippers.

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