After Dating the President O, I Turned Into a Puppy-Like Lover - Chapter 36

The day after tomorrow would be Jiang He’s birthday.

During dinner, Zhou Yi’s words lingered in Dan Sirou’s mind. From the moment she returned home until after her bath, they kept circling in her thoughts, refusing to fade.

Should she express her feelings somehow?

She and Jiang He could hardly be called friends. At one point, Jiang He was the very last person she wanted to form any bond with. Even just two weeks ago, she had still held firmly to that belief. Yet coincidences kept piling up. Every time one matter seemed settled, another would arise, tangling their relationship into something messy and impossible to sort out.

Just like that incident last time.

She couldn’t ignore it, nor could she resolve it.

At this point, she could only tell herself to face Jiang He calmly.

She would no longer deliberately avoid her, but instead interact naturally, as she did with everyone else.

Sunday.

Dan Sirou asked Fu Jiu to go shopping with her.

She truly didn’t understand Jiang He’s preferences, but she wanted to show some thoughtfulness after Jiang He’s discharge from the hospital. So, she had no choice but to bring Fu Jiu along.

After all, only Fu Jiu knew that she and Jiang He were acquainted in private.

Asking Zhou Yi might have been a better option, but she hadn’t known Zhou Yi for long. And Zhou Yi was now being particularly attentive toward her, something she always kept a certain distance from when it came to suitors.

All things considered, Fu Jiu was the better choice.

Inviting Fu Jiu out wasn’t solely about buying Jiang He a birthday gift. It was also about strolling, relaxing, and distracting herself.

So, they wandered through shops, time slipping quietly away.

“Xiao Jiu, your cousin’s birthday is tomorrow. Have you decided what to give her?”

Fu Jiu understood her meaning. If Sirou asked like this, she must have her own thoughts. With a cheerful smile, she replied, “Sister Xiao Rou, are you planning to give her a birthday present?”

Caught off guard, Dan Sirou admitted openly, “Do you know what Jiang He likes?”

Her slender fingers brushed over the dazzling array of delicate items, leaving her a little overwhelmed.

She had noticed before that Jiang He didn’t seem interested in such things, so she deliberately moved on to another section.

Fu Jiu followed closely at her side, watching her profile. Long black hair spilled over her shoulders, her fair neck occasionally exposed. Those soft, luminous peach-blossom eyes carried a trace of hesitation, as if she couldn’t make up her mind.

Fu Jiu smiled inwardly, amused.

She likes you, that’s why!

Unable to hold it in, she blurted, “Oh, just buy anything! As long as it’s from you, she’ll be smiling all day on her birthday.”

Dan Sirou: “?”

Dan Sirou turned, even more puzzled, staring at her.

Fu Jiu quickly covered her mouth, her gaze darting nervously as she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Ahem, I mean, whoever dislikes receiving gifts? No matter what it is, she’ll be happy.”

“That may be true, but it’s better to choose something she actually likes,” Sirou replied.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” Fu Jiu nodded earnestly, steering the conversation back on track as she racked her brain for Jiang He’s preferences.

“Well, she likes Kaiserlu’s songs. Giving her a CD wouldn’t be bad, though they’re hard to find nowadays.” Fu Jiu struggled to recall more.

And then, nothing.

Only now did she realize how little she actually knew about Jiang He.

No, it wasn’t her fault. Jiang He had never shown the slightest fondness for anything. She seemed to embody detachment, living with no desires.

Dan Sirou listened carefully. When Fu Jiu fell silent, she glanced at her. Pressed, Fu Jiu forced herself to say, “If nothing else, maybe buy her some clothes?”

“Clothes?” Sirou asked, skeptical.

“Yes,” Fu Jiu replied matter-of-factly. “At least clothes are useful.”

Sirou hesitated.

Giving clothes felt strange. Ordinary friends didn’t usually exchange clothes. That was something close friends or couples did.

Still undecided, she glanced around. The area was full of clothing stores anyway, so she humored Fu Jiu’s suggestion. “Do you know her size?”

Fu Jiu: “…”

Fu Jiu admitted awkwardly, “No.”

Dan Sirou: “…”

The idea of clothes was promptly abandoned.

They wandered into another shop. Sirou’s gaze swept over the shelves until it stopped at the upper row. A thought struck her. “Xiao Jiu, what do you think of a thermos?”

The weather had turned sharply cold, nearly freezing. Hot water was becoming a necessity.

It was practical, though common. Many people might think of the same gift. But so what? It was only meant to show thoughtfulness, not to stand out.

“That’s a good idea,” Fu Jiu agreed.

Inwardly, she thought: You’re overthinking. I already told you, she’ll love anything from you.

The boutique specialized in assorted brands. The thermos had excellent insulation, cost a few hundred, and was neatly wrapped in a gift bag by the clerk.

Before parting, Sirou handed the gift to Fu Jiu.

Fu Jiu hesitated, eyeing the bag. “Sister Xiao Rou, aren’t you going to give it to her yourself?”

“Her birthday is tomorrow, and she’ll be back at school. Didn’t you say you’re going to her house later?” Sirou replied.

“You could come with me,” Fu Jiu suggested warmly, blinking expectantly.

Sirou’s expression darkened immediately.

Reaching the point of calmly facing Jiang He had already taken immense effort. Were they close enough for her to visit Jiang He’s home?

Feeling uneasy, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to hide her restless gaze. “You go ahead. It’s getting late, and it’s inconvenient for me.”

“Oh.” Fu Jiu felt a pang of regret on Jiang He’s behalf. “Alright then.”

They walked together to the subway station. Their routes split in opposite directions, and they parted ways.

Jiang He was discharged today.

After nearly two weeks of recovery in the hospital, her complexion had grown even fairer. With all the tonics and soups she had consumed daily, her body had filled out a little.

Once slender and fragile, she now looked healthier—no longer giving the impression of someone light and delicate, easy to bully.

Before Fu Jiu arrived at the Jiang family villa, Jiang He had just woken from a nap. She lifted her loose clothes and glanced at her flat stomach, feeling a pang of regret. She had been eating too well—her once-proud abs, the result of years of training, were now faintly disappearing.

That was her hard-earned treasure, the pride of her long dedication to exercise.

Sigh, looks like I’ll need to train harder from now on.

Just then, the villa’s doorbell rang.

Aunt Lin went to open the door. Seeing Fu Jiu, she quickly called Jiang He over to greet the guest.

Fu Jiu, smug and delighted, held out a gift bag that still seemed to carry the faint fragrance of Sister Xiao Rou. She handed it to Jiang He with a flourish. “Here, this is for you.”

Jiang He frowned slightly, suspicious. She assumed it was from Fu Jiu herself. Not particularly warm, not indifferent either—she accepted it with a calm heart. “Thanks,” she said lazily, her voice still carrying the drowsy tone of someone just awake.

“You’re not even going to ask who it’s from?” Fu Jiu pouted, disappointed.

This girl, no wonder I can never figure out what she likes. With that attitude, how’s anyone supposed to tell?

“Who is it?” Jiang He humored her. She was used to Fu Jiu’s mischievous games.

Fu Jiu grinned triumphantly. “It’s from the one you love.”

Jiang He: “…”

She instantly understood who Fu Jiu meant. But the words were far too cheesy, and she wasn’t used to that kind of talk.

Her cheeks flushed hot, burning away the last traces of sleepiness. She curled her fingers to her lips, coughing lightly, uneasy. “Really? It’s from her? Don’t lie to me.”

Fu Jiu found her reaction endlessly amusing. She had grown accustomed to Jiang He’s cold, aloof face, so seeing her flustered was irresistible. “Who? I never said a name. You’re the one assuming.”

“You know who,” Jiang He muttered, dodging Fu Jiu’s gaze, turning her head almost completely away. “Stop teasing.”

Fu Jiu decided to let it go for now.

Heh, finally found my cousin’s weak spot. Next time, I’ll make sure to press harder. Hahaha!

After sending Fu Jiu off, Jiang He finally had time to unwrap the gift. Inside was a medium-sized thermos cup. It had a pleasant weight in her hand, its curved surface reflecting a soft white glow. For a moment, it seemed to mirror Dan Sirou’s face.

Seeing the cup feels like seeing her.

Jiang He caressed it with both hands, her usually cool expression softened by a gentle light. Ever since Fu Jiu left, her smile had stayed fixed, as if walking side by side with the moon all night.

At last, she set the cup down and picked up her long-neglected phone. Entering the chat window, she hesitated for a while before typing:

[Thank you for the gift.]

[I’ve received it.]

Soon, a reply came:

[Sorry, I really don’t know what you like.]

[I just happened to see this and thought it was suitable, so I bought it.]

[Do you like the color?]

Jiang He stared at the three consecutive messages.

In all the time she had known Dan Sirou, was this the first time she had written so much at once? She scrolled up to check—yes, it was.

Her smile widened even more.

She typed: [I like it, really like it.] but then paused. The words felt too enthusiastic, too revealing.

She didn’t know why, but she worried it might make Dan Sirou think she was overly eager. So, she changed it to: [I like it. Thank you.]

Ever since that chance encounter at Wanda Plaza, Jiang He felt she was slowly figuring out how to interact with Dan Sirou. Little by little, she was finding her way, though most of it was instinct, flashes of intuition she couldn’t fully explain.

Monday.

After a family dinner, Jiang Bingtai, seeing how stifled Jiang He had been these past weeks and knowing she would return to school tomorrow, gave special permission for her to celebrate with friends.

Yu Wei and the others hosted her birthday at a KTV.

It wasn’t a big crowd, just eight of them, close friends who wanted to have fun together. They ordered a three-tier cake—far too much for their group, destined to turn into some kind of playful mess later.

Yu Wei and the others laughed, flirted, sang. Jiang He was crowned with a birthday hat, forced into the role of “birthday star.” Eventually, tired out, she curled into a corner, pulling out her phone.

The shifting lights cast shadows across her delicate features, highlighting and hiding them in turn. She snapped a few photos: the lively scene, the family dinner earlier, a morning landscape she had captured when in good spirits.

Sipping juice, she arranged them into a neat nine-grid collage.

A rare post on her social feed.

She seldom shared her moods—her joys and sorrows were kept in her memory, not for others to witness. But now, she had someone who stirred her desire to share.

She set the post to be visible to only one person.

No deeper reason, she simply wanted Dan Sirou to know what she had been doing that day.

It was already 8 p.m., during evening study hours. Jiang He didn’t expect any response. After posting, she was quickly pulled back into the group’s chatter.

When it came time to blow out the candles, she closed her eyes and made three wishes:

1. That Dan Sirou’s life would be smooth, free of troubles.

2. That her grandfather would stay healthy.

3. That Dan Sirou’s mother’s illness would heal quickly.

Opening her eyes, Yu Wei leaned in, teasing: “What’s with that extended wish list? Haven’t seen anyone take wishing this seriously in ages, hahaha.”

Jiang He ignored her, habitually unlocking her phone.

A notification popped up, someone had commented on her post.

It was Dan Sirou’s profile picture.

Jiang He’s breath caught, her fingers trembling as they touched the screen.

She had expected just a simple “like.” But instead, it was a message:

Moonlight: Happy Birthday.

What you long for will always echo back.

Little Jiang, next year you’re officially allowed to celebrate with your wife.