Chapter Seventeen: Kindred Spirits and Fair Maidens

Xin Gan said, "I’m fine, don’t worry, cousin." She didn’t tell Shen Ruxin that she had also been at the scene during the explosion, keeping it from her as best as she could to avoid causing more worry. She preferred to share good news and keep the bad to herself.

Moreover, since it hadn’t been easy for Cheng Jiu to finally relent, she didn’t want to stir up any further trouble.

Soon, the police contacted her with news: the boy’s parents had both died in the explosion. They had notified other relatives, but so far no one could be reached. In short, with no parents left to care for him, A Songli was now entirely alone.

The weight of this news was crushing. Xin Gan couldn’t bring herself to tell him, but he asked her directly, “My parents aren’t coming for me anymore, are they?”

She fell silent, unable to bear it but also helpless to change it.

A Songli cried through the entire night. Though he was a boy, he was still just a child.

Xin Gan asked the innkeeper’s wife what would become of a child in A Songli’s situation.

The woman, familiar with A Songli’s background and sympathizing with his plight, nonetheless spoke plainly: “He’ll either end up wandering or be taken in by some family willing to adopt him. But as for what happens after that—there’s no telling. If his luck’s bad and his adoptive parents aren’t good people…”

She didn’t need to finish. Xin Gan understood.

Having never faced anything like this before, Xin Gan found herself at a loss as to what to do.

...

Jiang Tang visited the inn to see Xin Gan and, upon hearing from the proprietress about the pitiful child Xin Gan had brought back, decided to seek her out. She came prepared, mainly wanting to have a conversation.

Xin Gan stood cool and aloof, waiting for her to speak first.

“Miss Xin, I’m sorry about what happened the other day. I didn’t know about your relationship with Cheng Jiu.”

Xin Gan replied coldly, “You certainly owe me an apology, Miss Jiang. I hold no grudge against you, nor did I know you before. I just don’t understand why you changed your mind.”

Jiang Tang smiled, betraying no real remorse, despite her words.

“It was my fault that day. Originally, I invited you in Cheng Jiu’s name, thinking he’d be happy to see you. I didn’t expect things to backfire. That’s on me. Miss Xin, let me apologize again.”

Xin Gan felt Jiang Tang was far too calculating, full of schemes. Now it was clear: Jiang Tang must harbor feelings for Cheng Jiu, which explained her hostility.

She had already sensed something during the half month when Cheng Jiu had arranged for Jiang Tang to look after her.

Jiang Tang would always bring up Cheng Jiu in front of her—how they used to go on missions together, lived in the same team, faced life and death side by side. These were things Xin Gan had never shared with him.

Jiang Tang went on, “But Miss Xin, there’s not much difference between us. Neither of us is better than the other.”

Xin Gan gave a short, cold laugh, “So it’s my fault after all?”

Jiang Tang wasn’t afraid to speak plainly: “I know about you and Cheng Jiu. I don’t care if it’s real or not, but don’t fool yourself. Cheng Jiu won’t go back with you to get married. He likes it here. He’ll stay.”

Xin Gan clenched her teeth, resentment rising in her heart. “Miss Jiang, saying this to me is pointless. You should tell him.”

At this point, Xin Gan had lost all feeling for Cheng Jiu; his image in her heart had completely collapsed. If she had known, she would never have come—she had only brought trouble upon herself. Looking back, no wonder Cheng Jiu had so readily agreed when she proposed ending the engagement.

After all, he had a confidante at his side—someone who had shared life and death with him.