After Becoming a Spare Tire, I Got Together with My White Moonlight - Chapter 5

Song Anchen covered her face with her hand, unable to bear looking at Jiang Xuehe’s expression any longer.

Even if it was about clearing up a misunderstanding, there was no need for such a suicidal approach.

Song Anchen felt mentally exhausted.

But this was just Yan Guiqiu’s personality asking her to hide or delay something would be harder than killing her.

Perhaps that was precisely why the Yan family hadn’t insisted on her inheriting the company.

Such a trait wasn’t exactly an asset in the business world.

Closing her eyes, Song Anchen let her thoughts wander. The silence around her didn’t last long before Jiang Xuehe’s calm voice broke through again.

“Is that so? Then it’s truly my honor.”

There was no trace of anger or offense in her tone, as if nothing had changed from before.

But Jiang Xuehe was the type to be considerate and compromising even if she disliked something, she probably wouldn’t openly show her displeasure.

It dawned on Song Anchen belatedly that the seemingly pleasant conversation from earlier might have just been their own wishful misinterpretation.

Jiang Xuehe never made those around her feel uncomfortable, yet her true friends could still be counted on one hand even someone like Xia Yaoxin, who could casually watch the drama unfold from the sidelines, wouldn’t dare claim to be truly close to her.

Neither of them spoke further. Soon, a guest came over to toast, and Jiang Xuehe’s mother approached from behind, calling her daughter away to meet some important guests.

Jiang Xuehe responded politely, bid farewell to Yan Guiqiu, and then the sound of footsteps faded into the distance.

Yan Guiqiu walked back to Song Anchen’s side, accidentally bumping into her in her distraction.

Song Anchen glanced at her, she looked completely absent-minded.

After a moment’s thought, Song Anchen decided to offer some comfort.

“It’s fine, there’ll be other chances. Didn’t she say she’s staying in Yunhua City?” Unless she decides to run away because of this.

Song Anchen reconsidered and switched tactics: “Maybe she really is just busy. Look, she didn’t talk to anyone else only you for so long.”

That was indeed a privilege no one else had received.

Thinking back carefully, Song Anchen realized others had tried to cozy up to Jiang Xuehe, but they were all dismissed after a few words. Only Yan Guiqiu had managed to keep the conversation going.

At the very least, Jiang Xuehe didn’t dislike her.

But after Yan Guiqiu’s impulsive remark earlier.

The future was now uncertain.

The more she thought about it, the more disheartening it seemed.

“It was just a joke she probably didn’t take it seriously,” Song Anchen could only console herself with this weak reasoning. “Who confesses their feelings upon first meeting? She’ll realize it was just a joke later. She doesn’t seem like someone who can’t take one.”

“At worst, I’ll help you ask her about it later.”

“Huh? Ask what?” Yan Guiqiu snapped out of her daze.

“About Jiang Xuehe, of course,” Song Anchen reassured her. “At least getting her contact info shouldn’t be too hard. Feelings can be developed slowly over time.”

“Oh? Contact info? No need.” Yan Guiqiu shook her head.

“You’ve given up already?” Song Anchen was stunned.

This was way too quick completely unlike Yan Guiqiu.

Yan Guiqiu took a moment to process the logic before realizing what Song Anchen meant. She reached into her pocket and pulled something out to show her.

“I already have her contact info,” she said. “Phone number, WeChat, QQ, it’s all written here.”

“Huh?” Song Anchen was shocked. “She carries business cards to a banquet? Where did she even pull that from?”

Upon closer inspection, the white business card bore the hotel’s logo, and the name printed in the center was definitely not “Jiang Xuehe” but that of a man, prefixed with “Hotel Manager.”

Just as Song Anchen was beginning to doubt Yan Guiqiu’s eyesight, Yan Guiqiu glanced at the card, let out an “Oh,” and flipped it over.

The back was blank, save for three rows of numbers written smoothly in black ink.

The spot where Yan Guiqiu’s finger pressed showed slight smudges, clearly indicating the numbers had been freshly written.

Song Anchen: “…” All that worry for nothing.

Jiang Xuehe really was a good person, willing to play along with such a joke.

That was what Song Anchen thought.

As for whether Jiang Xuehe, like Yan Guiqiu, harbored some unspoken feelings Song Anchen didn’t even consider the possibility.

This was their first meeting. How could there be love at first sight?

Yan Guiqiu carefully tucked the card away and leaned in to discuss with Song Anchen, “Let’s head back early later. I need to charge my phone.”

The two had come solely for Jiang Xuehe. Though the outcome had deviated slightly from expectations, their objective was more or less accomplished. Staying longer would just mean exchanging pleasantries and killing time.

Jiang Xuehe still had guests to attend to and likely wouldn’t have time for casual conversation with Yan Guiqiu.

Rather than linger, it was better to leave early and enjoy some peace.

After a moment’s thought, Song Anchen nodded and asked, “Should we say goodbye?”

Yan Guiqiu shook her head, raising an eyebrow with a smile. “This gives me the perfect excuse to apologize to her later.”

“You’re something else.” Song Anchen silently mourned for the Yan family and Yan Guiqiu’s mother for a few more seconds in her heart.

With such quick reflexes and meticulous thinking, if only she could channel a fraction of that into the family business, people wouldn’t be so exasperated with her.

“Thanks for the compliment.” Yan Guiqiu walked with a light step.

“…”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

Unfazed, Yan Guiqiu followed Song Anchen to a corner, where they idled for a while longer. Seeing some guests already bidding farewell to the hosts, they excused themselves to the others, citing prior engagements, and left the banquet hall.

As she stepped through the door, Yan Guiqiu hummed a little tune.

Once in the car, Yan Guiqiu plugged in her phone, but the charging port was faulty, making the process slow. Restlessly, she tapped her fingers against the window frame, growing impatient.

Song Anchen fastened her seatbelt, waiting for the cars ahead to move, and glanced at Yan Guiqiu. In the quiet, her thoughts inevitably deepened.

“Leaving the Jiang family aside for now, what about your parents? How are you going to handle them?”

“Tell them the truth.”

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll.” Song Anchen trailed off, unable to finish.

Both the Jiang and Yan families were deeply traditional in their values. Even though same-sex marriage had been legal for years, mainstream opinion still largely viewed it as abnormal and contrary to human ethics or at least not something to be openly celebrated.

Earlier, Song Anchen had thought Jiang Xuehe was soft-spoken, prone to yielding to her family’s wishes, and might eventually be pressured into an arranged marriage for business reasons.

But reflecting on Yan Guiqiu, the same could be said for her.

Yan Guiqiu wasn’t truly opposed to inheriting the family business. She had the capability it was something she could “do” or “not do” without much attachment.

But her younger sister wanted to do it.

So Yan Guiqiu chose to step back, casually tossing aside what was nearly within her grasp, vacating the position, and walking away without a shred of hesitation.

Of course, the premise was that there was genuine affection between them, and their relationship was strong.

Ambition and desire can be difficult to control at times, especially since her sister also had talent as if born for this path. Yan Guiqiu avoided conflict and experienced another kind of life she had once envisioned, while the family remained relatively harmonious.

Yan Guiqiu never saw anything wrong with this. Even in her daily interactions with friends, her happiness was sincere.

But Song Anchen couldn’t help but worry. If Yan Guiqiu was willing to yield for her family, what about her family’s treatment of her?

In those traditional, rigid families, face was the most important thing.

Yan Guiqiu would never abandon what truly mattered to her like family bonds. But when conflicts arose, those disputes and contradictions were precisely what she least wanted to see.

Song Anchen knew she was worrying unnecessarily. Anxiety over things that hadn’t even happened yet was foolish, but she couldn’t stop herself from fretting over her best friend.

“Let’s go,” Yan Guiqiu said.

“What?” Song Anchen snapped out of her thoughts and, seeing the empty road ahead, realized it was time to drive off.

Exiting the ramp, they emerged onto a wide main road. The sky had darkened completely.

Being near the outskirts, there weren’t many cars around. The streetlights on either side glowed quietly, their twin streams of light stretching all the way to the horizon.

Yan Guiqiu leaned against the car door, propping her chin on one hand while idly fiddling with her still-dark phone screen. Through the window, she studied the night scenery outside.

A stack of documents lay scattered across the back seat, and a sheet of paper labeled “Plan 381” slid down from the seat, unnoticed.

Yan Guiqiu glanced at it and suddenly spoke, “I’ve never lost a bet.”

Neither in her past life nor this one.

A red light loomed ahead. Song Anchen hit the brakes and turned to look at her. “Including matters of the heart?”

“Emotions aren’t something you gamble on,” Yan Guiqiu replied. “But integrating something smoothly into an already established whole that’s something achievable with the right strategy.”

“Huh?”

“Adults, of course, choose to have it all.”

“…”

“For me, the real question isn’t whether my family will accept me.”

“Then what is?”

“How to successfully pursue Xuehe-jie.”

Thud!

A sudden brake sent Yan Guiqiu’s phone flying from her hand, slamming into the dashboard.

But at that moment, she had no mind to check the phone. Her expression shifted as she reached for the door handle.

Song Anchen’s face was pale. She sat still for a moment to steady herself before unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

In front of the car, a person lay sprawled on the ground.

They had reached the next intersection. The pedestrian light on the opposite side had just begun its countdown, and the person on the ground had dashed onto the crosswalk out of nowhere.

Fortunately, the car had slowed down approaching the intersection, and Song Anchen had braked in time. There was no impact, but seeing someone collapse right in front of the car was terrifying enough.

“Are they sick?” Song Anchen circled to the front while pulling out her phone to call an ambulance. “Guiqiu, did you see anyone else.”

Yan Guiqiu knelt beside the “patient,” silent for a long while.

Song Anchen’s heart tightened as he hurriedly asked, “Is the person still here?”

Yan Guiqiu nodded. “Still breathing. Probably low blood sugar again. No visible wounds, and her breathing is steady. She should be fine, but let’s call an ambulance to take her to the hospital for a check-up.”

Her tone was calm and quick, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary, tinged with a hint of resignation.

“Again”?

Something flickered in Song Anchen’s mind, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before rushing to call for emergency help.

After reporting the address, he turned back to see Yan Guiqiu sitting on the ground, pressing her fingers to her temples and muttering to herself, “I take back what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“That line about ‘I’ve never lost a bet.'” For a fleeting moment, whether it was a trick of the light or not, Yan Guiqiu’s expression twisted into something pained and almost ferocious, but her voice only carried exhaustion. “When it comes to her, I’ve never had any luck.”

Yan Guiqiu pointed at the person on the ground, and Song Anchen already guessed the “patient’s” name.

“Qin Xiangxi?”

Bending down under the car’s headlights, Song Anchen took a closer look. The person’s face was half-covered by long hair, but for those entangled deeply with her, recognition was instant.

“Why is it her again?” Song Anchen glanced around the deserted crossroads, utterly baffled.

Where on earth had she come from?

“I’d like to know too,” Yan Guiqiu said woodenly.

“Didn’t you say just the other day that she went abroad with the school faculty for some performance?” Song Anchen asked.

“Supposedly for at least two months,” Yan Guiqiu added.

Longer than summer or winter break.

Yan Guiqiu had even celebrated by setting off metaphorical fireworks across all her social media for two days straight, thinking she’d finally have some peace.

Who could’ve guessed.

The inertia of fate was too strong.

But before, the worst incidents had just been getting cornered by thugs or predictable accidents nothing that tested one’s nerves like this.

Yan Guiqiu covered her face with her hands, taking several deep breaths before barely steadying herself. “How long until the ambulance gets here?”

“They said about ten minutes. Luckily, the roads here are clear might even be sooner.”

Neither dared to move the person lying on the ground, so they sat on either side, keeping a close watch.

Fortunately, Qin Xiangxi’s breathing remained steady, almost as if she were just asleep.

After sitting for a while, Song Anchen finally regained her composure, her limbs warming up enough to joke, “Seems like all our luck today was spent on Jiang Xuehe.”

She checked the time on her phone. “It’ll probably be past midnight by the time we get back. Let’s hope nothing else goes wrong.”

Yan Guiqiu nodded wearily. “Let’s hope.”

As it turned out, the moment you raise a flag, it’s destined to fall.

Just as the wail of the ambulance grew louder in the distance, a car pulled up behind them.

The window rolled down, revealing a familiar voice. “Guiqiu? Anchen? What are you two doing stopped here?”

In the driver’s seat sat Jiang Xuehe, changed into fresh clothes but still wearing her stage makeup.

Beside her in the passenger seat was Xia Yaoxin, closer to the two, leaning halfway out the window with a hand pressed to her stomach, her face pale.

But when she caught sight of the person lying on the ground, her pained grimace twisted further into sheer horror.

Jiang Xuehe received no response and couldn’t help but frown slightly, asking with concern, “What’s wrong?”

Xia Yaoxin trembled as she pointed a shaky finger at the “corpse” on the ground, her voice quivering, “That looks like Qin Xiangxi.”

A desolate wilderness.

Entangled love and hate.

A meeting of rivals.

It was all too easy for the imagination to conjure up something utterly scandalous.

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