After Dating the President O, I Turned Into a Puppy-Like Lover - Chapter 30

Jiang He rubbed the back of her head, her cheeks burning as if on fire, overcome by a shy embarrassment she couldn’t quite name.

They had already shared moments far more intimate, yet even a casual touch like this was enough to make her blush and her heart race.

Dan Sirou walked ahead, Jiang He trailing at her side.

The girl’s figure was graceful and slender, her long, silky black hair falling either into her hood or cascading down her waist. Her pale, luminous earlobes peeked out from behind strands of hair, appearing and disappearing like a secret.

Jiang He’s heart itched. She wanted to draw closer, quickening her pace until she was shoulder to shoulder with her. But when Dan Sirou glanced her way, Jiang He startled like a frightened bird, hastily slowing down to restore a polite distance.

Then she noticed Dan Sirou had stopped at a doorway, gazing inside. Jiang He followed her line of sight, it was a boutique shop.

“Want to go in and take a look?” Dan Sirou asked suddenly.

Jiang He froze for a second, then said, “Sure.” Her heart leapt, she couldn’t have wished for more.

They wandered from one end of the shop to the other. The shelves were filled with charming trinkets, delicate and pretty, the kind girls loved. There were also pillows, household items, clothes, and shoes.

Normally, Jiang He never visited such places. At school she wore uniforms; on weekends her wardrobe was all jeans and simple tops. She rarely spent effort on her appearance, preferring the most practical choices. Cute, girlish things never appealed to her.

But now, walking through the shop with Dan Sirou, she found herself unexpectedly interested.

Her gaze lingered on whatever Dan Sirou’s slender fingers touched. Before Dan Sirou could say anything, Jiang He blurted out awkward praise, “This is so cute.”

The words sounded clumsy, her fingers curling to her lips as she cleared her throat in embarrassment.

Strange.

She had thought it would sound natural, like Fu Jiu’s bubbly enthusiasm, or at least like Zhou Yi’s playful tone. Sweet, exaggerated, genuinely girlish.

Thankfully, Dan Sirou didn’t comment. She merely glanced at her, lowered her lashes, and murmured, “It is pretty cute.”

Then, lifting her head, her clear eyes sparkled with flecks of light. “Jiang He, let me give you a gift.”

“Hm?” Jiang He blinked, caught off guard.

“As thanks for the day you took me home,” Dan Sirou explained.

Jiang He was puzzled. That day, which day?

But she had only done it once. She remembered quickly.

“No need,” Jiang He said. “I told you, it was just on the way.”

“But it still troubled you,” Dan Sirou insisted.

“Do we really have to keep such strict accounts?” Jiang He muttered, a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

“What else?” Dan Sirou blinked innocently.

Jiang He looked at her for a moment, then sighed in surrender. “Alright.”

She glanced around, searching for something she liked. “I can pick anything?”

“Yes.” Dan Sirou nodded.

“Then I’ll take advantage of this chance.” Jiang He grinned.

“Not too much,” Dan Sirou warned, her tone soft despite her serious gaze.

Jiang He turned away, smiling faintly. She thought this side of Dan Sirou was adorable.

What should I choose? What gift from her would be best? Something practical, something that saves me money.

She wandered until her eyes lit up. Stopping at a rack of hairbands and clips, she picked up one woven in several colors. “This one.”

Dan Sirou frowned. “Just that?”

“Mm.” Jiang He nodded.

“Didn’t you say you’d take advantage? I was prepared for it.”

Jiang He chuckled. “Practicality first.”

Her hair was the one thing she truly invested in. Since growing it long, she had cared for it meticulously—shampoos, conditioners, treatments to keep it soft. When Wang Bin’s lackeys had once yanked it into a mess, she had nearly wanted to kill them.

At the counter, Jiang He leaned on her hand, watching every movement Dan Sirou made, her heart swelling with quiet joy.

Her outfit today made Jiang He ache with longing—the soft, fluffy fabric looked so inviting, she wanted to press her face against it. And those slender fingers tapping the screen, she remembered vividly how warm and gentle they had felt when they touched hers.

Will I ever get the chance to hold her hand?

Daydreams bloomed in broad daylight.

Outside the shop, Dan Sirou handed her the small bag.

Jiang He pulled out the hairband, tore off the tag, and slipped it into her hair. She let her ponytail fall loose, then swiftly tied it back up again. The whole motion took barely thirty seconds, neat and fluid.

Dan Sirou watched, stunned. It was the first time she had seen Jiang He with her hair down. She forgot to blink, caught in the sight.

Jiang He walked ahead, stopping by a trash bin. With a flick of her fingers, she tossed her old black hairband inside.

Returning, Dan Sirou asked lightly, “Why throw it away? It was still usable.”

Jiang He blinked. “It wasn’t comfortable. This one feels better.”

Dan Sirou murmured, “Oh.”

She let it go.

Winter nights fell quickly.

Moments ago, it had been daylight; now the city was cloaked in darkness, neon lights glowing, streets bustling under the lamps.

Around the plaza stretched a lively night market. Not far away was the subway station, the busiest spot of all. Amid the noise and engines, a clear singing voice rose, strikingly pleasant.

Someone was busking.

She must have just started, few people had gathered yet.

The song was one Jiang He often played in her headphones. It stirred something in her.

She reached out, wanting to poke the soft fluff of Dan Sirou’s coat. “Should we go listen?”

But just as her finger neared, Dan Sirou turned suddenly. Jiang He snatched her hand back, startled.

“I’m heading home,” Dan Sirou said, smoothing her windblown hair.

They had reached the subway station.

Jiang He’s heart sank with reluctance. She parted her lips, wanting to say I’ll walk you home. But she knew the answer already. Dan Sirou would refuse. After all, the hairband she now wore was itself a thank-you gift for that one time Jiang He had escorted her back.

Jiang He swallowed back the words she wanted to say and instead murmured, “Alright.”

Her lashes lowered, and just then she noticed a stall nearby—a shooting game with toy rifles, prizes being all sorts of plush dolls. Her eyes lit up. “Let me give you a gift too.”

Dan Sirou: “?” Dan Sirou looked at her in puzzlement.

Jiang He pointed toward the stall. “I’ve been wanting to try this.”

Dan Sirou glanced over. “You only get a prize if you hit the target, right?” She hadn’t intended to accept a gift, merely pointed it out.

“It’s fine, I can do it.” Jiang He was already speaking with the vendor.

The man explained the rules, Jiang He nodding attentively.

Before starting, she returned to ask, “Which one do you like?”

Dan Sirou lifted her lashes, her voice calm. “No need. If you win something, keep it for yourself.”

Jiang He shook her head. “Actually, I owe you a favor. I can’t stand being indebted.”

Dan Sirou: “?”

Dan Sirou frowned slightly.

“Don’t you remember?” Jiang He blinked at her. “Last Wednesday, in the student council office, my face was swollen and aching. You gave me an ice pack.”

Dan Sirou recalled. “That was just a one-yuan ice pack. You don’t need to remember it.”

“That won’t do. You didn’t say that at the time.”

For once, Jiang He had the upper hand. Dan Sirou had no rebuttal—after all, she had started it. Whatever she said now, Jiang He would twist her words back.

“Fine.” Dan Sirou relented.

“Which one do you like?” Jiang He asked softly.

“Mm.” Dan Sirou pointed casually. “That brown bear. But you probably won’t win it anyway.”

Jiang He glanced back, nodded.

The vendor smiled. “Ready?” He handed her the toy rifle.

Jiang He tested the weight, adjusting her grip.

Suddenly, a commotion stirred nearby.

Two little girls with braided hair stood beside an Alpha woman.

“Mama,” one tugged pitifully at her mother’s hand.

Her mother sighed. “No more. We’ve already spent dozens of yuan. I’ll buy you one instead.”

“No, no! I want that brown bear!”

“Buying one is the same.”

For most people, the game was just entertainment. Winning was unlikely.

But Jiang He had plenty of practice.

She had grown up riding horses, drawing bows. Even now, she trained during holidays. For her, this was child’s play.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Every shot hit.

“Miss, you’re sharp!” the vendor praised, not yet realizing the significance.

Jiang He smiled, claiming the brown bear—the very one the little girl had wanted.

She walked to Dan Sirou. Just as Dan Sirou reached to accept it, Jiang He said, “Sorry. I meant this for you, but that child’s been crying. May I give it to her first?”

Dan Sirou didn’t mind. She nodded. “Mm.”

The girl’s crying grew louder. The vendor urged, “Try again! Maybe you’ll win this time.”

“No, no.” The mother refused firmly, dragging her daughter away.

Just then, Jiang He approached with the bear. The mother, embarrassed, explained to her daughter, “See? You cried so loudly you disturbed the lady.”

The girl, young but aware of pride, stopped crying instantly.

Jiang He overheard, smiling. “It’s fine. Everyone sheds a few tears when they’re little.”

She crouched, patting the girl’s head. “Here. Is this what you wanted?”

The girl’s eyes lit up. She hugged the bear tightly.

“Don’t take it! It’s hers!” the mother scolded.

“It’s fine. I have plenty at home,” Jiang He said warmly.

After some polite refusals and the girl’s insistence, the bear was finally accepted.

The mother thanked Jiang He repeatedly. Jiang He waved it off, chatting with them a little longer.

Dan Sirou watched, unconsciously dazed.

The streetlamp above cast golden light around Jiang He, outlining her in a soft glow. Her usually cold face now shone with warmth and kindness toward strangers.

Dan Sirou couldn’t help but see her differently.

Truth be told, she had always been swayed by Jiang He’s looks.

Perhaps it had all begun with her face.