Chapter 106: Attitude

Although Xin Gan was nervous, she was not timid. Cheng Jiu introduced her to his friends, holding her close as he explained who she was. They laughed and teased him, saying, “When did you get married? So secretive.”

Cheng Jiu replied, “Not long ago.”

“If I had known earlier, I could have come back sooner and attended your wedding,” one said with regret. “Anyway, congratulations on finding such a beautiful wife.”

Cheng Jiu said, “Yeah, I got lucky.”

Xin Gan felt a little embarrassed.

The man then introduced himself to Xin Gan. “I’m Zhou Ya—‘Ya’ as in runner-up. I was Cheng Jiu’s classmate in university, and we used to be really close, still are.”

Xin Gan said, “Hello, I’m Xin Gan—‘Xin’ from hard work, and ‘Gan’ from willing and content.”

Her name was truly unique. Zhou Ya smiled after hearing it. “Nice to meet you.”

Someone nearby said, “Don’t stand there—sit down and chat first.”

Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan found a spot to sit. Xin Gan still couldn’t shake her nervousness; her palms were sweating. Cheng Jiu reached out and took her hand, raising an eyebrow. “Why are your hands so cold?”

Xin Gan leaned close and whispered, “Just a little nervous.”

“Relax, nothing to worry about.” Originally, Cheng Jiu hadn’t planned to attend any reunion, but Zhou Ya had contacted him enthusiastically two days ago. Cheng Jiu didn’t know how Zhou Ya got his contact info, but Zhou Ya mentioned that Cheng Jiu hadn’t come to any reunions over the years, so this time, no matter what, he had to show up.

Cheng Jiu wasn’t fond of group activities. Back in school, he hadn’t joined clubs or student council. After graduation, he had gone straight to Beiyu, cutting off contact with his classmates. That Zhou Ya still managed to reach him was surprising.

Xin Gan knew little about his university days and had seen only a few photos from then. Meeting his classmates now felt novel to her, as if she were getting closer to understanding his past.

She asked him, “So, is this a class reunion?”

Cheng Jiu replied, “I guess so.”

Since it was a reunion, Xin Gan suddenly wondered if Cheng Jiu’s university girlfriend would also show up.

Originally, if it had been just the men, things might have been more casual and less formal. But with women present, the men were all very proper, attentive to the ladies, checking if they were cold or hungry, not even smoking inside the room.

After a while, Zhou Ya brought in a group of people, both men and women.

Cheng Jiu hadn’t been to a reunion in a long time, so when Zhou Ya dragged him here, it was half reluctant. Only after arriving did he realize there were so many people he didn’t remember or recognize, while they all remembered him.

After all, Cheng Jiu had been a celebrity in school: he didn’t have to do anything; just standing there drew attention from the opposite sex.

Zhou Ya joked about a basketball game in university where Cheng Jiu played, and a circle of girls waited around the court holding water bottles just to hand him drinks. Of course, Zhou Ya exaggerated a bit, but there was some truth to it.

Xin Gan was surprised and couldn’t help smiling. She looked at Cheng Jiu and asked, “Were you really that popular with the ladies?”

Cheng Jiu said, “One or two girls, yes, but not as exaggerated as Zhou Ya says.”

Zhou Ya wasn’t afraid to stir things up. “Cheng Jiu just didn’t want you to be jealous. At home, he’d have to kneel at the keyboard if he admitted it was more than one or two. We can all vouch for it—he definitely attracted girls. Many would hand him love letters. Back then, half the girls who came for morning runs on the field were there just to see him.”

Back then, the internet wasn’t so widespread, and love letters were the popular way to confess feelings, showing sincerity.

Xin Gan didn’t take it too seriously but listened like it was a story. She believed in Cheng Jiu’s charm.

He was handsome, from a good family, cold but polite—a type always favored by girls.

Cheng Jiu didn’t interrupt Zhou Ya; he let him speak, correcting him only when Zhou Ya was wrong, clearly caring about the image he held in Xin Gan’s eyes.

Xin Gan didn’t pay attention to the others at the table; she wasn’t good at chatting with strangers. If someone initiated conversation, she responded politely.

Halfway through the meal, the door suddenly opened. Jiang Meng arrived late. Upon entering, she hurriedly apologized, “Sorry, sorry, the traffic was terrible. I rushed as fast as I could but still got here late.”

“Jiang Meng, you’re the last to arrive. I thought you weren’t coming.”

Jiang Meng smiled, “No way. Zhou Ya personally called me to invite me. I couldn’t say no—I had to show face for Zhou Ya.”

A woman, one of Cheng Jiu’s classmates’ wives from the same school but different major, said, “Weren’t you here because Cheng Jiu would be?”

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The woman realized her mistake and quickly tried to fix it. “If Zhou Ya hadn’t worked so hard to get Cheng Jiu here, we wouldn’t have such a full crowd today…”

Zhou Ya also hurried to smooth things over, pretending nothing happened as he welcomed Jiang Meng to sit down.

Jiang Meng sat diagonally opposite Cheng Jiu. As soon as she entered, her eyes found him. It wasn’t that Cheng Jiu had a natural glow—she had come precisely because she heard Cheng Jiu would be here.

But sitting next to him was a young, beautiful woman, early twenties, fair-skinned, exquisitely made-up, flawless, no wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She seemed unaffected by the earlier conversation, sipping tea delicately. Cheng Jiu glanced at her, seemingly asking if she wanted more. This tender scene was hard for others to penetrate; it belonged only to the two of them.

Zhou Ya, following Jiang Meng’s gaze, quickly found a topic to chat with her, asking questions this way and that.

Jiang Meng withdrew her eyes and took a sip of juice, her mood the opposite of when she arrived. She had been looking forward to greeting Cheng Jiu but now saw another woman by his side.

With Jiang Meng’s arrival, the atmosphere grew tense. Some classmates knew about Cheng Jiu and Jiang Meng’s past in university. Cheng Jiu was now married, even bringing his wife to the reunion, while Jiang Meng was alone and somewhat downcast.

Xin Gan sensed the awkwardness and gently tugged Cheng Jiu’s sleeve under the table. “Why do you seem so quiet?”

Cheng Jiu said, “Zhou Ya’s talking is enough. What else should I say?”

“Were you always like this? Not very talkative?”

“Depends on the person.” Obviously, he spoke little to strangers, and he wasn’t naturally chatty. He squeezed her slender fingers and said, “If it were you, I’d talk a lot. Whatever you want to hear, I’ll tell you later.”

Xin Gan’s ears flushed, and suddenly she felt thirsty. She took a cup and drank some water.

After she finished, Cheng Jiu poured more tea into her cup, making sure it never ran empty.

Xin Gan didn’t notice, but Jiang Meng across the table did.

Jiang Meng felt a pang of bitterness. When Zhou Ya first contacted her, she wasn’t enthusiastic about coming. Adult reunions weren’t just reunions—they were opportunities for ridicule. Not coming meant confirming to everyone that her life wasn’t going well.

When Zhou Ya asked about her recent life, she said it was fine, nothing wrong, just still single. Zhou Ya then said Cheng Jiu would come, having finally persuaded him. So he asked if she wanted to come.

After all these years, Jiang Meng never thought Cheng Jiu’s appearance would be fake. She kept wondering if she had agreed to go to Beiyu with him back then, would her life be better now?

But life has no “ifs.”

Persuaded by Zhou Ya, she decided to attend, hoping to see Cheng Jiu once more.

…

Married women chatted about family, husbands, mothers-in-law, and daily trivial matters—but only the good parts, like the husband’s promotion, buying a house in the city, or children’s academic achievements. The men had no interest in these topics.

A female classmate sitting next to Jiang Meng leaned over and quietly asked, “How have you been all these years? Married yet?”

Jiang Meng smiled awkwardly, “Yes.” She had married but divorced.

“When did you get married? Why didn’t you tell us? You kept it so secret. We were so close back then, even helped you pursue Cheng Jiu. And now you get married without telling me?”

Her voice was just loud enough for Cheng Jiu across the table to hear.

Cheng Jiu heard it, and of course, so did Xin Gan.

Xin Gan glanced over but quickly looked away. Cheng Jiu didn’t react, still serving her food.

Xin Gan looked at him and said, “I’ve drunk too much water; I want to use the restroom.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No need, I’ll be quick.” Xin Gan grabbed her bag and left her seat.

Not long after Xin Gan left, Zhou Ya came over holding a glass, warmly slinging an arm over Cheng Jiu’s shoulder. “Come, have a drink.”

Cheng Jiu said, “No thanks, I’m driving later.”

Zhou Ya didn’t press it and said, “I heard you recently went back to Yongcheng, to GT Ju. Honestly, I have a tricky project…”

No need to go into detail. Cheng Jiu immediately understood what Zhou Ya wanted: help smoothing connections. Zhou Ya’s project was stuck at the bureau’s final review stage. If it failed the inspection, the project would be scrapped, and the invested funds lost. Zhou Ya had gone to great lengths to find out Cheng Jiu’s current job, hoping to leverage their old classmate bond.

Knowing Cheng Jiu’s personality well, Zhou Ya still wanted to try and persuade him.

Because of his current status and authority, Cheng Jiu was silent for a moment, then said, “Zhou Ya, I’m powerless here. This isn’t for me to decide. Whatever needs to be done, do it. I keep private and public matters separate.”

If he gave an inch, there’d be countless requests.

Zhou Ya said, “Money’s not the issue, Cheng Jiu. Just think of it as helping…”

“Out of respect for being classmates, Zhou Ya, such things should be done openly. Taking shortcuts never ends well.”

Zhou Ya hit a wall. Seeing Cheng Jiu’s firm stance, he sighed. “Don’t take it to heart. I was just asking. If you can help, great; if not, no big deal. It’s mainly an internal company issue. Worst case, we reinvest and start over.”

Cheng Jiu didn’t believe the excuse. None of them were novices; distrust was one thing, silence another.

After refusing, Cheng Jiu gave Zhou Ya no hope so he wouldn’t keep pestering him.

…

When Xin Gan returned from the restroom, Cheng Jiu stood at the doorway waiting for her. She approached and asked, “Why are you standing here?”

He brushed stray hair from her forehead, concerned. “Tired?”

“Not really, I’m okay.”

Xin Gan asked, “Were your classmates mostly guys? How come there are female classmates here?”

Cheng Jiu recalled carefully. “Those aren’t classmates, but family members. A few are close alumni of Zhou Ya from university.”

“I thought there were girls in your class…”

“No, it was all guys.”

Xin Gan understood. “Are you going back in?”

“Later. Just getting some fresh air.”

She nodded and naturally held his hand. “What’s wrong? You seem unhappy.”

“Nothing.” He sighed slightly. After graduating and entering society, people really changed—from start to finish, like Zhou Ya.

Cheng Jiu had met all kinds of people over the years—from heinous criminals to thieves and killers—but he still had a sincere heart. Sometimes he missed the pure university life, without complicated human nature or disputes over interests. Society was completely different.

Maybe he’d change too. Maybe. Just maybe.

Zhou Ya’s way of asking for help and his tone felt strange and distant—business dealings could make people grovel and lose dignity.

Inside the room, Jiang Meng noticed two chairs had been empty for a long time and those two hadn’t returned. She felt restless. The classmates next to her were chatting about family matters, and she couldn’t join in. Feeling excluded, she excused herself to the restroom. Just outside, she saw Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan talking in the hallway.

Cheng Jiu’s gaze was unfamiliar, as if he didn’t recognize her, barely lingering on her before moving away.

Xin Gan caught the door opening and met Jiang Meng’s eyes with a gentle smile. “Hello.”

Jiang Meng felt exposed and stammered, “Y-You’re here? Why are you two standing at the door?”

Xin Gan answered, “Just getting some fresh air. It was a bit stuffy. How about you?”

“Going to the restroom,” Jiang Meng said.

“The floor’s slippery near the restroom, be careful,” Xin Gan warned kindly and stepped away from Cheng Jiu.

Jiang Meng thanked her and headed toward the restroom.

After she left, Cheng Jiu pulled Xin Gan back into his embrace. “Did you slip in the restroom?”

“No, I was careful.” Xin Gan pushed him away. “Alright, let’s go back in.”

Cheng Jiu held her wrist. “Just a bit longer, then we’ll go home.” He wouldn’t bring her to these reunions anymore—boring. Better to cuddle and watch movies at home.

“Okay,” she agreed.

Jiang Meng calmed herself in the restroom, looking at her reflection. No makeup could hide her disheveled state. Thinking of Cheng Jiu now married to another woman—young, beautiful, graceful, clearly from a good family—she felt she could never catch up no matter how hard she tried.

Since breaking up with Cheng Jiu after graduation, none of her boyfriends matched him in looks, personality, or family background.

She thought she could tame a man like Cheng Jiu and attract someone better, but she had underestimated her luck.

All her subsequent relationships were disappointing.

…

Shortly after Jiang Meng left, the female classmates began gossiping about her, saying the men she’d dated were all scoundrels who cheated her out of money, pitying her misfortunes.

Someone interjected, “She must regret breaking up with Cheng Jiu back then.”

Zhou Ya said, “Enough nonsense. That was ages ago. Stop talking about it or Cheng Jiu’s wife might hear.”

“I don’t think his wife is the jealous type. It’s just casual talk.”

Zhou Ya lit a cigarette but didn’t smoke, feeling irritable and ignoring them.

They had all been in the same club circle. Zhou Ya was close with Cheng Jiu and He Chuan, but He Chuan had refused to attend reunions. Zhou Ya had tried several times but was rejected, so he gave up.

“Jiang Meng got what she deserved. Nobody could talk her out of dumping Cheng Jiu. Now he’s married with a beautiful wife. Too late for regrets.”

Zhou Ya smiled. “You all get more excited the more you talk about it. People must take responsibility for their actions.”

With a round of sighs, the topic ceased before Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan returned.

Cheng Jiu said, “Something came up. Sorry, we have to leave. You guys keep enjoying. I already paid.”

Zhou Ya stood quickly. “What? Leaving so soon? And you already paid? I was supposed to host today.”

“Stop being polite.”

Xin Gan explained, “Sorry, I’m not feeling well and need to see a doctor. Cheng Jiu’s worried and is accompanying me.”

Zhou Ya said, “I see. Can’t help it. Health comes first. I’ll see you off.”

…

Back in the room, Jiang Meng heard they had left early and felt a pang of disappointment. “Oh.”

“Jiang Meng, you were pretending earlier. Now you regret it.”

“What am I regretting?”

“You know. You dumped Cheng Jiu. Now you’re paying the price.” The woman seemed deliberately antagonistic.

Jiang Meng set down her cup. “That’s ancient history. I said nothing. What right do you have to mock? Even if I dumped Cheng Jiu, so what? I don’t regret it. None of your business. No need to defend anyone.”

The woman sneered, “Yeah, yeah, I was just saying. But if you hadn’t stolen Cheng Jiu away, you wouldn’t have dated him. You know what you did better than all of us. Playing dumb tonight, but as soon as Cheng Jiu left, you got riled up and snapped at me. Listen, Jiang Meng, I’m happy to say it. You can’t stop me.”

Jiang Meng stood abruptly, having held back all night. She grabbed a glass and splashed it at her. “Zhang Ranxin, stop pretending. Aren’t you tired of faking it all night? You liked Cheng Jiu too, didn’t you? Now you’re taking revenge?”

“Revenge? No way. I have a happy family and twins. You? Lonely and unmarriageable. Women like you, full of yourself, think a few compliments from men make you special. I haven’t finished settling scores from back then.”

“Back then?”

Someone tried to intervene but was blocked.

Zhang Ranxin said, “Stop pretending. Want me to remind you about your affair with the professor?”

“Enough! Is this ever going to end?” Zhou Ya snapped. “Someone take care of your wife. I don’t mind handling you.”

The room fell silent. Zhang Ranxin sat angrily, arms crossed, with a cold smile.

Jiang Meng regained composure. “Sorry, I should leave. You all enjoy. I’m going.”

…

Xin Gan’s heel got stuck between the stones. She couldn’t pull it out, embarrassed.

Cheng Jiu bent down, warm palm on her ankle. “Hold my shoulder, take off your shoe, then stretch your foot out.”

Xin Gan did as told, holding his shoulder and slipping her foot from the shoe. Standing on one leg, Cheng Jiu worried about her balance and placed a hand under her foot without any hint of disdain. “Step on my hand. I’ll get the shoe out first.”

Xin Gan felt awkward but couldn’t steady herself alone. She trusted him with her balance.

The heel was stuck, stubborn, but Cheng Jiu easily pulled it free and helped her put the shoe back on.

When she was steady, he stood. “Better?”

Still embarrassed, Xin Gan said, “My fault for not watching where I was going. The heel got stuck.”

Since being with Cheng Jiu, she felt weaker, relying on him to handle everything. She seemed to have lost the ability to deal with emergencies herself. Every time, Cheng Jiu fixed everything.

She sincerely said, “Thank you, Cheng Jiu.”

He corrected her, “No need for thanks. There’s no need between us.”

…

Jiang Meng stood by the roadside, watching this scene, feeling immense bitterness. Even when they dated, Cheng Jiu had never done such things; she had always been the one running toward him, and he never looked back. Now he could do this for another woman, and she felt indescribably wronged.

If only she hadn’t dumped him back then, she would be the leading lady today.

Zhang Ranxin was right; she did regret it—truly regret it. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come today.

She desperately wanted to rush forward, appear before him, and rekindle their relationship.

Her body had already started moving.

She walked up and called out bravely, “Cheng Jiu.”

Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan both looked at her. He frowned, expression cold and indifferent, saying nothing.

Xin Gan withdrew her gaze, feeling unnecessary, instinctively stepping back.

But Cheng Jiu held her wrist firmly; she couldn’t leave.

Jiang Meng’s eyes landed on their clasped hands, pain stabbing her. She feigned calm. “Sorry for the sudden call. I just realized I didn’t greet you earlier, so I’m doing that now. Are you leaving?”

Cheng Jiu nodded, flatly. “Yes.”

His tone was so cold and calm that Jiang Meng felt her courage falter. She was humiliating herself but couldn’t bear not to try.

“Cheng Jiu, I have an awkward request. Could I catch a ride with you? Honestly, my home’s quite remote. No taxis want to go there, and there’s no bus now. I’m sorry. If inconvenient, I’ll ask others…”

Maybe because she was so downcast, she didn’t wait for rejection but turned to leave, afraid of being refused.

“Wait.”

Jiang Meng froze. The voice wasn’t Cheng Jiu’s, but Xin Gan’s.

Xin Gan said, “It’s not safe for a girl to take a taxi alone at night. Cheng Jiu and I will see you home. It’s no trouble.”

Jiang Meng said, “Okay, thank you.”

…

Naturally, Xin Gan sat in the front passenger seat, Jiang Meng in the back. Xin Gan knew Jiang Meng’s identity, roughly guessed it, though Cheng Jiu said nothing.

Jiang Meng gave Cheng Jiu her address. Indeed, her home was remote.

Xin Gan felt tired and closed her eyes to rest.

Cheng Jiu noticed and lowered the air conditioning, knowing sleep makes people sensitive to cold.

Such small gestures felt like needles piercing Jiang Meng’s chest.

Soon they arrived. Cheng Jiu parked by the roadside and glanced at the surrounding houses—square, rural-urban fringe living conditions. After a quick look, he said, “Here we are.”

Jiang Meng said, “Thank you, Cheng Jiu.”

“No need.” Cheng Jiu’s expression remained indifferent.

Xin Gan had fallen fast asleep from exhaustion. Jiang Meng noticed and hesitated a moment before asking, “Cheng Jiu, have you had a good few years?”

Cheng Jiu frowned, displeasure flashing in his eyes. “You should leave.”

His voice was low, careful not to wake Xin Gan.

“Do you still hold a grudge? I was wrong back then, but Cheng Jiu…”

He interrupted, “She’s asleep. Don’t wake her.”

Jiang Meng felt like she’d been slapped, her face burning with embarrassment. “I…”

“If I were alone tonight, I definitely wouldn’t be the one to take you home.”

Jiang Meng was speechless. Continuing to talk would only bring herself more pain. She had no choice but to get out.

The car door closed, and Cheng Jiu immediately drove away.

…

Only after they reached home did Xin Gan wake up, being gently laid on a soft bed by Cheng Jiu. She blinked and groggily asked, “Are we at her place?”

Cheng Jiu laughed, half amused and half annoyed, pinching her cheek. “You little heartless thing, we’re home. Why are you still thinking about someone unrelated?”

Xin Gan winced and gradually came to. Sleepiness gone, but her voice was lazy. “Huh? We’re home? How long did I sleep?”

“You were asleep the whole way. That tired?”

“Yeah, didn’t sleep well last night.” She struggled to sit up, hands on his shoulders. “You took her home, right?”

“Don’t worry, I did.” Cheng Jiu teased her. “You have a big heart. You fell asleep soon after getting in. You really trust me?”

Xin Gan laughed carefree. “Of course. I trust my judgment—you won’t disappoint.”

She didn’t ask if anything happened while she was asleep. Cheng Jiu sighed, confessing and adding, “No next time.”

Xin Gan grinned. “Who knows? I didn’t do it on purpose. Besides, she was so pitiful. Just a favor. But I don’t want to go to these reunions anymore—didn’t eat much, smelled like alcohol all night. My hair still smells.”

“Then go shower.”

…

Tang Que was really sick and hospitalized.

Cheng Hui found time to take a high-speed train and visit him for several hours.

Seeing him in the hospital, Cheng Hui felt hard to express her feelings. She had bought fruit on the way and placed it on the bedside cabinet. “Are you feeling better?”

Tang Que’s face was pale. “You actually came to see me.”

“…”

What was she supposed to say? Cheng Hui said nothing, eyes down on the pure white sheets. After a moment, he said, “I was just joking. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just had surgery and feel a bit annoyed.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“A minimally invasive spinal displacement.” Not a major operation, but he was afraid of surgery and hospitals.

Cheng Hui: “No complications, right?”

“If there were, would I be chatting with you here?”

“…”

After speaking, Tang Que realized his tone was harsh and softened it. “Cheng Hui, anyway, thank you for coming.”

“No problem. You’re welcome.”

“Has my sister come looking for you again?”

Cheng Hui: “How do you know?”

“Told you, don’t believe a word she says. She exaggerates. If she comes again, just ignore her.”

“Okay, I got it.”

They sat in awkward silence; no topics to discuss.

Seeing he was fine, Cheng Hui prepared to leave. After gathering courage, she stammered, “Well, rest well. I won’t disturb you. I’ll go now.”

“Going back to school?”

“Yes.” If her family found out she had secretly come to see him, especially her mother, they’d be furious.

“Then go back. I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

His words softened Cheng Hui’s heart, but remembering he had a girlfriend, she smiled and waved her hand. “You can find your girlfriend or hire a nurse.”

Tang Que looked at her, emotions unreadable. “Who said I want you to stay?”

Cheng Hui: “…”

How could she stay? Under what pretext? How would it be convenient?

…