Chapter Forty-Three: Her Beloved

Whether or not Shen Ruizhang had noticed, Jiang Yunzhu was indeed deliberately distancing herself from him. However, if she were to lay these things bare right now, the feelings she once harbored for Shen Ruizhang would inevitably be exposed. The past was over; she didn’t want it dredged up again, trapping her where she had already moved on.

“Are you tired of me?” Shen Ruizhang, seeing her remain silent, joked lightly.

It was already quite late. There was little point in continuing the stalemate, so Jiang Yunzhu finally relented. “Thank you, Uncle.”

Her words of gratitude were polite but distant.

Shen Ruizhang instinctively furrowed his brow.

It was nearly midnight when Jiang Yunzhu finally made it home.

To her surprise, Chen Li and Jiang Lu were still awake.

“Why are you only getting back now?” Chen Li craned his neck to look outside, trying to catch a glimpse of who had brought Jiang Yunzhu home.

Shen Ruizhang remained in the car. Under the cover of night, a luxury vehicle with its headlights on slipped away discreetly.

Jiang Lu didn’t lean out deliberately, but he still probed carefully, “Zhouzhou, was it a man or a woman who brought you home? If it’s so late, there’s no need to rush back. Getting a hotel is fine too—your mother and I are open-minded.”

Jiang Yunzhu couldn’t help but smile wryly. “I’m in my twenties, not a teenager anymore.”

“So who was it that brought you back?” Chen Li pressed further.

Jiang Yunzhu started up the stairs. Remembering how ambiguous her parents’ attitude was toward Shen Ruizhang, she replied vaguely, “Just a regular friend.”

That remark dashed whatever expectations Chen Li and Jiang Lu had.

After she closed her door, Chen Li sat back down beside Jiang Lu, voicing her concern, “Do you think Zhouzhou is still pining for Ruizhang?”

“I thought that car just now looked a lot like Shen Ruizhang’s,” Jiang Lu said, folding his newspaper a few times and putting it away. “Even though there’s no blood relation between our family and the Shens, it was Shen Ruizhang who raised Zhouzhou after all. If people start gossiping about them, it won’t be good for her reputation.”

Chen Li clenched her right fist and brought it down into her left palm. “No, we still have to find a way to arrange blind dates for her.”

At the mention of this, Jiang Lu grew a little weary. “I think Shen Tingxiao would’ve been a good match, but it’s a pity Zhouzhou doesn’t care for him.”

“You never know,” Chen Li whispered. “Maybe Tingxiao isn’t interested in Zhouzhou either. I didn’t see any sparks that day.”

Jiang Lu said no more.

The news about blind dates was dropped during breakfast the next morning, announced by Chen Li and Jiang Lu at the dining table.

Jiang Yunzhu thought she’d misheard. “What?”

“In the next day or two, keep your schedule clear. I’ve asked around, and there are a few boys for you to meet. Handsome and well-mannered—they’re sure to catch your eye,” Chen Li said as she poured her a glass of milk and pushed it over. “Did you hear me?”

Jiang Yunzhu shrank her neck. “Let’s drop it—I’m too busy. There’s a mountain of things to handle at the company, and I have to take Sang Bai and Shao Shu to auditions. Where would I find the time for blind dates? I’m not going.”

Seeing her so determined, Chen Li wanted to argue further.

“It’s fine, if she doesn’t want to, just let it go,” Jiang Lu suddenly interjected, shifting the topic to work. “Your company just found a location and hasn’t even finished renovations. How do you already have work lined up?”

“Yeah.” Jiang Yunzhu’s phone, which was set aside, buzzed several times. She checked and saw it was a message from Director Shang.

[Tomorrow morning at nine, Moral Education Building, audition.]

[Come see me later to pick up scripts for your artists—two roles.]

Being able to slip two of her artists into this production surprised Jiang Yunzhu. She replied to Director Shang with a received emoji.

Jiang Lu kept pressing, “When is the audition? For which show?”

“Tomorrow at the Moral Education Building,” Jiang Yunzhu replied without much concern, since Jiang Lu was acquainted with Director Shang as well. “It’s Director Shang’s production.”

Jiang Lu nodded with praise, “Director Shang always writes good scripts. Even if your artists only get a cameo, it’ll boost their profile.”

Jiang Yunzhu smiled. “That was my thought, too.”

She didn’t notice the meaningful glance exchanged between Jiang Lu and Chen Li, loaded with unspoken implication.

Director Shang was a decent person; he handed over the scripts the same day and especially reminded Jiang Yunzhu to have Sang Bai and Shao Shu practice several times at home.

The arrangement reeked a bit of favoritism.

Jiang Yunzhu knew Director Shang well. Even if he gave someone a chance out of personal connections, he only used those who were genuinely talented.

For a moment, Jiang Yunzhu couldn’t say for sure whether Director Shang truly thought Sang Bai and Shao Shu were capable, or if he was giving her a shortcut for Shen Tingxiao’s sake.

Fortunately, both artists were more than up to the task, leaving Jiang Yunzhu with nothing to worry about.

On the day of the audition, Jiang Yunzhu arrived early at the Moral Education Building with Sang Bai and Shao Shu.

The location was in a room at the very end of the second floor. There were a lot of people outside—even the long bench was full, and many stood by the windows.

Jiang Yunzhu waited in line outside with her two artists. After about seven or eight minutes, a handsome young man approached from behind and tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around.

“You’re Jiang Yunzhu, aren’t you?” The young man held up his phone, eyes shifting between the screen and her face.

Jiang Yunzhu nodded, puzzled. “And you are?”

“Come with me.” The young man offered no further explanation and started walking away.

Jiang Yunzhu assumed Director Shang had arranged a special entrance for her, so she motioned for Sang Bai and Shao Shu to follow. But the young man glanced back, “Just you.”

“You two keep waiting in line,” Jiang Yunzhu said, not thinking much of it.

She followed the young man all the way down to the first floor before sensing something was off. “Excuse me, who are you exactly?”

“You don’t know?” The young man arched his brows, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Your parents sent me. They said you couldn’t get married, so they asked me to lower myself and go on a blind date with you. I think you look decent—we’d be a good match. Let’s give it a try.”

He made his declaration with the authority of an imperial edict.

Jiang Yunzhu was sure her parents couldn’t possibly have been so careless in their choice. Clearly, there must have been some mistake.

She was exasperated and couldn’t be bothered to tangle with him. “Thank you, but I’m not interested. You can leave now.”

“I’m giving you a chance out of kindness. Miss it, and you won’t get another,” the young man huffed arrogantly, fixing her with a cold, expectant stare.

Without a second thought, Jiang Yunzhu turned on her heel to leave. He stepped forward to block her path. “I—”

“She said she’s not interested—are you deaf?” Shen Tingxiao’s voice suddenly cut in from the side, blunt but deeply satisfying.

The young man’s eyes widened as he glared at Shen Tingxiao, his face flushing an angry purplish red. “And who are you to decide for her?”

Shen Tingxiao’s gaze lingered on Jiang Yunzhu’s face before he answered slowly, “I’m her boyfriend.”