After Becoming a Spare Tire, I Got Together with My White Moonlight - Chapter 2

A week later.

Yan Guiqiu yawned as she got into Song Anchen’s car, casually tossing a thick stack of documents onto the empty back seat.

“Pulling another all-nighter?” Song Anchen glanced at her face. Though the dark circles weren’t too obvious, Yan Guiqiu’s exhaustion was still palpable. “Didn’t you say you were done with school stuff?”

Yan Guiqiu buckled her seatbelt and replied, “There’s other business to take care of.”

Song Anchen caught a glimpse of the densely packed plans listed in the documents and twitched her lips. “‘Beginner’s Guide to Matchmaking’? Are you really that bored lately? Even people seriously chasing after someone don’t put in this much effort.”

Yan Guiqiu looked solemn. “This concerns my future peace. I have to take it seriously.”Song Anchen rolled her eyes, silently expressing the indescribable urge to complain.”

Fortunately, she had been pretty free lately too. Tagging along with Yan Guiqiu’s antics was at least a way to kill time.

“You’re seriously going dressed like that?” Song Anchen’s gaze shifted to Yan Guiqiu’s outfit.

“What’s wrong with it?” Yan Guiqiu looked down at herself jeans paired with a hoodie and a casual jacket, one of the most classic looks for a modern college student.

Very youthful and lively.

“We’re going to a banquet hosted by the Jiang family, not your high school reunion,” Song Anchen said. “Do you know how many people in that circle are just waiting to laugh at you?”

“Let them laugh if they want.” Yan Guiqiu shrugged. “My family’s reputation doesn’t hinge on a student like me.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” Song Anchen wasn’t pleased. No one liked hearing mocking laughter, even if it stemmed from ignorance or malice especially when it was directed at a friend.

“It’s called being open-minded.” Yan Guiqiu smiled and glanced out the window at the changing scenery. The flow of people and cars had thinned considerably, and the distant horizon at the end of the road revealed the silhouette of rolling mountains. “Besides, I probably won’t be the one drawing the most attention anyway.”

Jiang Xuehe wasn’t much better off than her.

Though they had never met, the gossip about Jiang Xuehe in their circles was hardly a secret.

The Jiang family happened to be quite similar to the Yan family both had risen to prominence three generations ago, with numerous descendants who had once been embroiled in inheritance disputes. However, Yan Guiqiu had barely touched the family business, leaving home alone to study abroad before she even came of age. After recovering memories of her past life, she was even more determined to stay far away from the business world.

Jiang Xuehe, on the other hand, had genuinely earned the reputation of a “loser.”

The Jiang family patriarch had been a legend in his youth, but unfortunately, his descendants were far less impressive. Only his granddaughter, Jiang Xuehe, showed some talent, so he intended to make her the heir.

But this decision skipped over her father, several uncles, and even her own older brother.

At the time, the Jiang family was thrown into chaos over the matter, and even outsiders caught wind of the drama.

The exact details of what happened remained unclear, but the outcome was common knowledge: Jiang Xuehe, who had been studying business at a domestic university, dropped out in her second year and went abroad, enrolling in an art school instead seemingly determined to abandon commerce for the arts. Meanwhile, her older brother, Jiang Xueyang, became the publicly acknowledged heir.

Compared to his sister, Jiang Xueyang’s talent was somewhat lacking, but he was young and had room to grow, a case of picking the best of a mediocre bunch.

With their parents’ full support and their uncles proving themselves incompetent each soon causing their own scandals the dissenters naturally fell silent.

After the dust settled from the struggle, Jiang Xuehe went abroad and vanished without a trace.

But rumors about the internal strife within the Jiang family circulated far and wide for quite some time.

Jiang Xuehe’s uncles publicly claimed she had made mistakes and was expelled from the company. However, whispers suggested that her parents had pressured her with their lives forcing her to relinquish her inheritance rights to her older brother before sending her abroad to study, all to solidify her brother’s position.

The latter sounded exaggerated, yet it spread convincingly for a while.

Regardless of the reason, there was no doubt she had been the one to ultimately lose whether due to her own shortcomings or her overly soft-hearted nature, she was deemed unfit for the heavy responsibilities.

Jiang Xuehe stayed abroad for six years before the rumors gradually died down.

But fading away did not mean being forgotten.

Jiang Xuehe herself was not one for ostentation, so the Jiang family’s grand welcome banquet was likely an attempt to dispel some of the lingering gossip.

As for whether anyone read too much into it well, that was a matter of perspective.

Yan Guiqiu knew more than most. In the original story, Jiang Xuehe was indeed someone who deeply valued family and tradition, so her choice to concede was hardly surprising.

She harbored no ill feelings toward this so-called “white moonlight” she had never met. But if not for the plot’s interference, they might have remained parallel lines forever at most, nodding acquaintances.

The “white moonlight” earned her title by being nearly flawless privileged background, striking beauty, gentle and considerate nature, artistic talent, and a peaceful, uncompetitive demeanor.

She embodied all the lovely yet unexciting qualities one could imagine.

Of course, that was just the surface. In the story, the real “white moonlight” was warm on the outside but cold within far from the harmless figure she appeared to be.

Ultimately, she turned against the female lead over family interests, showing no mercy as she swiftly dismantled the female lead’s family, paving the way for the latter’s rebirth.

But from Yan Guiqiu’s perspective as an observer, while the “white moonlight’s” methods were ruthless, most of the blame still lay with the female lead.

The female lead had pursued the “white moonlight” relentlessly to no avail, only to be mistaken by Jiang Xueyang, Jiang Xuehe’s older brother as harboring feelings for him. After a series of self-delusions, he fell head over heels and even proposed in a fit of passion.

For reasons unknown, the female lead accepted, hoping to make the “white moonlight” jealous.

But even after she and Jiang Xueyang got married, the “white moonlight” showed no signs of jealousy only growing resentment.

Not over love, but because Jiang Xueyang had thrown the family business into chaos for the female lead, nearly killing their grandfather with rage. The old man was hospitalized and left with lasting health issues.

The grandfather was the person the “white moonlight” respected and cared about most this was a direct strike against her core.

Yet, upon closer inspection, the female lead was somewhat wronged too. It was Jiang Xueyang who had recklessly brought the female lead’s troublesome relatives into the company, causing endless problems while shielding them out of misguided affection. His refusal to repent only worsened the situation, finally provoking the “white moonlight’s” wrath.

Most of the twists and setbacks in the relationship between the female lead and the “white moonlight” were caused by these meddling antagonists every time progress was made, someone would inevitably interfere.

While reading the story, Yan Guiqiu had even wondered if those troublemakers had been deliberately planted by the “Yan Guiqiu” of the plot.

Whether true or not, knowing the plot in advance and helping to swiftly eliminate the obstacles posed by those cannon-fodder antagonists, avoiding later conflicts to directly achieve a happy ending, didn’t seem entirely impossible.

To this end, she had even compiled a summary of the antagonists in the story, ensuring she could effectively handle any new villains that might emerge in the future.

Yan Guiqiu glanced back at her three-digit list of plans and felt a slight sense of reassurance.

At a spot overlooking most of the mountain scenery, a hotel attendant stood by the roadside to guide guests. Song Anchen waved her hand, signaling that she would head to the parking lot first, and dropped Yan Guiqiu off near the hotel entrance.

“I’ll touch up my makeup while I’m at it. You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later.” Song Anchen hadn’t gone all out with her formal attire and makeup, but compared to Yan Guiqiu, who was determined to showcase her identity as an “ordinary contemporary college student,” she had still put in a bit more effort.

It wasn’t until she reached the entrance that Yan Guiqiu realized she had forgotten the invitation, it was still in Song Anchen’s car.

Dressed in casual clothes, Yan Guiqiu stood out starkly among the suited gentlemen and elegantly dressed socialites around her. The security guard stared at her for a long moment, clearly hesitant to let her pass.

Calling someone she knew inside to vouch for her would have been as simple as making a phone call, but remembering Song Anchen’s earlier reminder, Yan Guiqiu decided it was better to wait outside for a while.

The hotel, located on the outskirts, was typically reserved for the elite, boasting first-class scenery and facilities. The Jiang family had gone all out this time, booking the entire venue, so all arriving guests had only one destination.

On the side of the building was a small garden, meticulously maintained and exquisitely beautiful, though its secluded location requiring a long detour to reach made it appear somewhat deserted.

No security guarded this area, so Yan Guiqiu wandered in for a look.

A long, winding wooden pergola stretched overhead, its lattice entwined with vines that had already sprouted tender shoots, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

On either side lay lawns, the edges slightly yellowed but still showing hints of green at the roots. The young trees had also begun to sprout new leaves.

Following the main path of the pergola led to a small bridge over a babbling brook, with several quaint pavilions scattered intermittently, half-hidden among the vines and foliage.

The scenery was lovely, pity she had forgotten her camera.

Yan Guiqiu patted her pockets but only found her phone.

With a few soft clicks, she adjusted the angle and snapped some photos. The sound of children playing and laughing reached her ears, and she instinctively turned toward the noise, spotting someone in the pavilion across the small pond.

From the back, it was a long-haired woman in a beige coat, her head slightly bowed as she faced away from the main path. The faint rustle of turning pages drifted over with the breeze.

Yan Guiqiu put away her phone and raised her hand, framing the woman’s silhouette with her fingers as if through a camera lens.

A few prominent vines cascaded down behind her in layered strands, two or three nearly brushing her shoulders. When the wind blew, their shadows danced and flickered, and the slanting light fell at just the right angle.

Tranquil and serene, it felt less like part of a luxury hotel and more like a quiet corner of an afternoon park.

A child clutching a pinwheel dashed noisily down the pergola, suddenly appearing at the edge of Yan Guiqiu’s framed view. In their excitement, they tripped only for the woman sitting by the pavilion to reach out and steady them. The pinwheel, however, flew out of their grasp. The child’s lips trembled, tears welling up in their eyes.

The woman reached out her arm, picked up the little pinwheel, and blew on it gently. The wheel spun with a whirring sound, and the child, tears still drying, broke into a smile, took the pinwheel, and hurried out of the frame once more.

This time, her steps were noticeably slower.

The woman watched the child’s retreating figure for a moment before bending down to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground. She dusted it off and then descended from the other side of the covered walkway.

Yan Guiqiu caught a glimpse of her profile her features were beautiful and gentle, carrying a hint of a soft smile. But to Yan Guiqiu, she couldn’t be simply described with words like “innocent” or “kind.”

How should she put it?

As the sun dipped further west, Yan Guiqiu slowly descended the steps of the walkway. A gust of wind rustled through the branches and leaves behind her, and she inhaled lightly, catching a faint, elusive fragrance.

The scent of grass and leaves.

Suddenly, Yan Guiqiu knew how to describe that feeling.

Natural and serene, as if she had returned to a sunny afternoon in her childhood, lying on the grass after a bout of wild play, free from all thoughts no need to dwell on the past, no need to ponder the future. Her heart settled in the most peaceful place, surrounded entirely by the fragrance of grass and leaves bathed in sunlight.

It felt so light, as if she were treading on clouds.

Perhaps it was an illusion brought on by the ambiguous play of light and shadow. Yan Guiqiu turned her head to glance at the now-empty pavilion, unable to suppress a twinge of regret rising in her heart.

She should have gone up and said something just now.

Support