After Dating the President O, I Turned Into a Puppy-Like Lover - Chapter 40

In the depths of winter, a breeze wrapped in warm sunlight brushed softly against the young girl’s face, gently lifting strands of her silky hair.

Dan Sirou gradually slowed her pace, returning to her earlier rhythm.

Jiang He walked quietly beside her, hands tucked into her coat pockets. Her steps were as light as the wind, her presence deliberately minimized. From a distance, it was hard to tell whether they were together or apart—yet wherever the girl went, Jiang He followed closely.

She had no idea what Dan Sirou was thinking, only that she was accompanying her aimless walk through the streets.

Perhaps, she intended to walk home?

Unknowingly, they crossed a bridge. To the east lay the bustling districts of Dongcheng; to the west, historic landmarks and, nearby, the city’s largest park.

The park’s entrance was grand—stone pillars supporting an arched gate, with the words Donghe Park engraved above.

From the gate, one could already see children playing in the square. Jiang He glanced up, surprised to realize they had wandered here.

She parted her lips and called softly, “Do you want to go in and take a look?”

Dan Sirou hesitated briefly, then nodded unexpectedly. “Mm.”

Jiang He pressed her lips together.

This was the place her aunt had once urged her to make friends—the place where she had first met Dan Sirou.

Nearly ten years had passed in a blink.

Generations of visitors had come and gone. Children had grown into adults; adults had become pillars of society. Time had changed everything—except the flowers, the trees, and the buildings, which remained the same.

Dan Sirou’s mood wasn’t exactly good, but it wasn’t as heavy as Jiang He imagined.

The matter with Zhou Tingchen still weighed on her, and she needed time to let it go. That was why, when Jiang He asked if she wanted to enter, she agreed after a moment’s thought.

They walked side by side into the park. At the entrance, an old man sold balloons, while children darted about, nearly colliding with passersby.

“Have you been here before?” Jiang He asked casually.

“When I was little, I came often,” Dan Sirou replied.

Jiang He paused, then said, “There was a time I came often too.”

“Really?” Dan Sirou murmured softly.

She turned her head toward the lake on the right. The breeze stirred ripples across its surface, sunlight scattering into shimmering waves. The scenery was beautiful, yet her heart felt barren, like the withered trees on the opposite shore.

She couldn’t understand how life had become like this. Once carefree, with a gentle mother and a steady, reliable father—now one separated by death, the other trapped in depression. Even Zhou Tingchen no longer felt like the person she remembered.

Life had overturned completely. In the quiet of night, she had thought of giving up; yet with each dawn, she found herself able to endure. Life repeated itself in cycles, and somehow, she had made it this far.

She didn’t need to rely on anyone, she could still live her life well.

But sometimes, loneliness crept in.

She consoled herself: It’s fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. A brief sadness is only human. These emotions will fade with the morning light, just as they always have.

Without realizing, they reached the park’s corner.

Here stood rows of exercise equipment, along with a few playground structures for children. The wide square was perfect for games, making it especially popular among the young.

Jiang He was struck by nostalgia. The swing she had once sat on as a child still looked new. Passing by, she said almost instinctively, “Dan Sirou, I want to sit for a while.”

Dan Sirou glanced back and answered calmly, “Alright.”

The winter sun was too weak to warm the cold iron seat. Jiang He sat down, the chill seeping through her thin clothes, though she hardly noticed. She watched the children playing in the distance, occasionally pushing off the ground so the chains swayed her gently.

After a while, she stopped, smiled faintly, and said, “I used to sit here often, just watching others play.”

Dan Sirou took the swing beside her and asked, “Why didn’t you join them?”

“Because no one wanted to play with me,” Jiang He replied quietly.

Dan Sirou thought for a moment, then offered kindly, “You rarely spoke, and you seemed cold. Others probably didn’t know how to approach you.”

Jiang He nodded in agreement.

After a pause, she looked at the girl earnestly. “Actually, it wasn’t that no one ever played with me.”

Dan Sirou tilted her head, listening attentively.

Jiang He’s gaze softened. “There was once a girl who was very kind to me. She invited me warmly to join her. She loved to laugh, and she was gentle. Because of her, I played with someone here for the first time.”

Dan Sirou smiled lightly. “And then?”

“Then,” Jiang He lowered her eyes. “I thought I was special to her, but she was simply warm to everyone. Later, things changed. I left Dongcheng, and I never saw her again.”

She kept the rest hidden in her heart—their reunion in high school, the closeness they once shared.

Dan Sirou nodded thoughtfully, sensing her regret. “Maybe she remembers you. Maybe she remembers there was someone like you. But after so many years, meeting countless people, faces change. Perhaps she just didn’t recognize you.”

“She doesn’t remember,” Jiang He said with a bitter smile.

Not maybe. Certainly. After all, she was sitting right here in front of her, and still didn’t remember.

Jiang He gazed at the sparkling lake, inhaled deeply, and confessed, “We drifted apart because of some unpleasantness. No, it was only me who felt that way. Back then, I didn’t know how to communicate. I wasn’t good at expressing my true thoughts. I was even petty.”

Jealous of Zhou Tingchen, resentful of her actions—so when she most needed help, Jiang He chose to indulge her own selfishness.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.

Regret lingered bitterly, gnawing at her heart.

Dan Sirou smiled faintly, comforting her. “It’s alright. Things are better now. You have friends around you, don’t you?”

She thought of Zhou Yi, whose loyalty to Jiang He was unquestionable.

Before their agreement, she had already heard of Jiang He—rumors of her rebelliousness, her fights, her notoriety. Yet during their time at Qingyu, aside from tardiness and truancy, she hadn’t caused much trouble.

“I think you’re like her,” Jiang He suddenly said.

“Me?” Dan Sirou looked incredulous, almost mocking. “Don’t joke. I haven’t been that good to you.”

She knew it herself. She had avoided Jiang He, treated her coldly. Surely Jiang He had felt it.

So, she assumed Jiang He was only teasing.

“I mean it!” Jiang He’s eyes widened, sincere and urgent.

Dan Sirou blinked, then smiled gently. “And is it because my pheromones match yours, making you feel drawn to me?”

Jiang He: “…”

Jiang He was caught off guard, speechless. “Sorry.”

Dan Sirou laughed softly. “I was teasing you.” Her brows curved, her eyes crescent-shaped, sunlight spilling into them with warmth.

Perhaps it was because she had learned to face things openly after that incident, or perhaps Jiang He’s rare honesty had drawn them closer. Either way, she found herself joking about past unpleasantness.

Jiang He’s heart wavered.

The girl’s smile overlapped with her memories, as if she had returned to the moment they first met—radiant and warm.

But the sunlight was soon swallowed by thick clouds. Winter days were short, the sky quickly dimming.

The heavy atmosphere had lightened through their conversation, yet now Dan Sirou’s smile faded. She looked at Jiang He and said softly, “I should go home.”

“Hm?” Jiang He felt reluctant, but seeing the late hour, she nodded. “Alright.”