After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Mingzhu immediately knelt on the bed with one leg.

During breakfast, the two were exceptionally quiet. Guan Tong felt an inexplicable tension. In particular, Miss Mingzhu had woken up early to apply a very beautiful and exquisite makeup look today; Guan Tong wondered if Miss Mingzhu was unhappy because Miss Rong had drunk too much last night and was planning to go out alone today.

The housekeeper added soup for Mingzhu and asked softly and carefully, “Is Miss Mingzhu going out today? Do you need me to make a reservation for you?”

Rong Zhao also looked at Mingzhu from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t sure why Mingzhu had suddenly become quiet—was she regretting their conversation from earlier?

Mingzhu, who was secretly excited about the prospect of having the upper hand over Rong Zhao from now on, looked up and smiled. “No need, Auntie Guan. I just like putting on makeup. Being pretty puts me in a good mood. I’ll take it off later when I take my nap.”

The housekeeper smiled and praised her repeatedly, “Miss Mingzhu is beautiful no matter what. There is a beauty to not wearing makeup, and a beauty to wearing it.”

Pleased by the compliment, Mingzhu became more talkative. She asked Rong Zhao with a smile, “By the way, Rong-Rong, do I need to go back with you to see your elders this weekend?”

Rong Zhao’s movement of drinking soup paused slightly. She tilted her head slightly toward the housekeeper; Auntie Guan immediately understood the cue to leave and made an excuse about checking the stove in the kitchen before walking away.

Once Auntie Guan was gone, Rong Zhao looked at Mingzhu and asked slowly, “Mingzhu, do you want to know what your parents said to me that day? If you want to know, I can tell you anytime.”

Parents.

Mingzhu’s nose instantly stung and her eyes reddened. She quickly lowered her head to avoid Rong Zhao’s gaze, pretending the soup was too hot and blowing on it.

“No need,” Mingzhu replied with a muffled, nasal voice. “Later.”

“Mhm.”

Rong Zhao watched Mingzhu for a moment as the girl nearly buried her face in the soup, holding her breath before taking a deep one. She then answered Mingzhu’s earlier question: “If you go home with me, they won’t intentionally bring up your parents. However, they might unconsciously mention things from our childhood—like your parents bringing you to my house, or how they’ve known each other for many years and watched you grow up since you were a child.”

As Rong Zhao spoke, Mingzhu already recalled the time her parents took her to Rong Zhao’s house in the sixth grade. Those distant events, those memories that shouldn’t belong to her anymore. Mingzhu kept her eyes down, the rims turning slightly red.

“So let’s make it next weekend. We’ll go back once your emotions are more stable.”

Seeing Rong Zhao being so considerate of her, Mingzhu’s heart suddenly softened. “Okay.”

Mingzhu thought for a moment and felt that this week would be a good time for her and Rong Zhao to practice their “script,” so they wouldn’t slip up while chatting.

Mingzhu asked, “Do I need to write an outline for our love story?” She knew Rong Zhao certainly wouldn’t do it herself, so it was up to her to fabricate the details.

Rong Zhao: “Up to you.”

Mingzhu: “Then I’ll write it. You have to read it and memorize it once I’m done, otherwise I’ll have written it for nothing.”

“Mhm.”

After breakfast, Mingzhu began to weave their story.

In the United States, Mingzhu had studied film production with a focus on directing. Although she hadn’t directed anything besides student films—only filming travel promos for her family during her world travels after graduation—she was still a professionally trained “Director Bai.”

Director Bai’s imagination moved fast. Soon, she had fabricated a romance between her and Rong Zhao in the script.

During the summer of their sophomore year of college, Rong Zhao flew from London to New York for a trip. The two happened to run into each other near Mingzhu’s school and shared a simple meal, beginning a secret, ambiguous development. Rong Zhao often went to New York to find her—a seven-hour one-way flight. Rong Zhao spared no effort in pursuing Mingzhu for love, just to see her for a moment.

Mingzhu noted: Anniversary is January 1st, Mingzhu’s birthday. Rong Zhao prepared a candlelight dinner to confess to Mingzhu.

Before graduation, the two broke up due to personality clashes.

Mingzhu noted: Break-up anniversary is June 1st, Rong Zhao’s birthday. The reason for the break-up was that Rong Zhao was always nitpicking Mingzhu’s flaws. Rong Zhao was the one who initiated the break-up.

After returning to the country, the two remained entangled until recently, when they cleared up their misunderstandings and decided to move toward a new life together.

Mingzhu noted: Rong Zhao asked to get back together. Rong Zhao had a very good attitude in admitting her mistakes. The Great Mingzhu was magnanimous and didn’t hold a grudge.

To prevent them from contradicting each other when talking to Rong Zhao’s elders, Mingzhu wrote down many details. She wrote all day, from sunset to twilight, and right up until bedtime. She sat nestled in the bedroom sofa, getting more excited the more she wrote.

Rong Zhao leaned against the bathroom door watching Mingzhu. It reminded her of Mingzhu during their student days, who used to be just as focused and excited.

Mingzhu was very good at math and physics. Sometimes she would be so immersed in solving problems that she wouldn’t even hear the school bell. When Rong Zhao couldn’t see her from her own classroom door, she would specifically walk past Mingzhu’s Class 2 and glance toward Mingzhu’s seat, always seeing that focused, excited look.

Mingzhu would write faster and faster, a smile of excitement appearing on her face. When she finally finished a problem and checked the answer to see she was right, Mingzhu would jump up happily, toss her pen, and rush out the door, her ponytail swinging high from side to side with joy.

Unconsciously, a smile reached Rong Zhao’s eyes and brows.

Mingzhu was currently very excited about writing the script—so excited she didn’t notice Rong Zhao walking up behind her. It wasn’t until Rong Zhao leaned over and her low, cool voice sounded in Mingzhu’s ear that Mingzhu suddenly snapped out of it.

“I pursued you, I dumped you, and I’m the one who begged to get back together?”

“…”

Mingzhu hurriedly closed the notebook. After a few seconds, remembering that this was meant for Rong Zhao to read anyway, she opened it back up and said righteously, “I’m two years younger than you! I was only eighteen when I was a sophomore. I didn’t know anything, so obviously you had to be the one pursuing me.”

“…So you wrote me as a ‘scumbag’ woman who dumped you?”

“…”

Mingzhu felt a bit guilty, but as she spoke, she puffed out her chest. “Well, if I was the ‘scumbag,’ your elders wouldn’t accept me. But if you were the one who acted poorly, they’ll be nicer to me, right?”

Rong Zhao: “…” There was a strange sort of logic to it.

As night fell, Mingzhu suddenly felt a bit nervous. She pretended to adjust her hair to slightly avoid the damp fragrance on Rong Zhao’s body and pressed, “Do you have any other details to add?”

Rong Zhao noticed Mingzhu’s movement. She straightened her back nonchalantly, stepped back, and turned toward the nightstand to pick up her phone. She said faintly, “Up to you.”

Opening her phone, Rong Zhao habitually checked her alt account to see if a certain someone had posted any updates.

“By the way, Rong-Rong,” Mingzhu spoke from the sofa, her voice a bit awkward as she tried to sound casual. “While I was writing the script just now, a question occurred to me.”

Rong Zhao turned her head. Her white bathrobe opened at the collar with the movement, revealing her tender, pinkish-white chest.

Mingzhu unconsciously licked her lips. “Your elders won’t start chanting for us to kiss or anything, will they?” She remembered that Auntie Ji seemed to be a very enthusiastic person who loved to joke around.

Rong Zhao leaned down to place her phone on the nightstand. “It’s hard to say. My mom might; she likes to joke.” As she spoke, her tone tilted upward. “Why? You have a problem with that?”

Mingzhu: “?” Who had a problem?

Mingzhu immediately got fired up. “I certainly don’t have a problem. I’m afraid you have a problem.”

Rong Zhao tilted her head toward her and suddenly curled her lips. “I’m fine with it. I want to see if you dare.”

Mingzhu: “??” A provocation??

Mingzhu couldn’t let that stand. She tossed the notebook aside, walked toward Rong Zhao, stood right in front of her, and reached out to push her shoulders.

Rong Zhao seemed very easy to push. She sat down on the bed with the momentum, propping herself up with her hands behind her, tilting her chin slightly as she looked at Mingzhu. It was as if she were saying: Go ahead, try to kiss me.

Mingzhu immediately knelt on the bed with one leg, reaching one hand toward Rong Zhao’s neck as if to brace her thumb against her throat, lowering her head as if to kiss Rong Zhao forcefully.

Rong Zhao didn’t dodge or flinch, meeting Mingzhu’s gaze with total composure.

However, just as Mingzhu was about to touch Rong Zhao, her heart suddenly accelerated. After hesitating for a few breaths, she laid down on the bed beside her instead.

Mingzhu propped up her head and raised an eyebrow with a smile, secretly losing her nerve because she was afraid she’d actually get “hooked” on Rong Zhao’s lips, but maintaining an expression that said she dared to do it, she just didn’t want to. “A beauty’s first kiss? I’m not giving it to you.”

Rong Zhao: “…”

Rong Zhao slowly and imperceptibly took a deep breath. It seemed that from now on, there would only be physical contact—no kissing allowed.

Rong Zhao sat up nonchalantly, stood up, and took Mingzhu’s notebook to read.

In truth, what Mingzhu had written wasn’t entirely fictional. When Mingzhu was in school in New York, Rong Zhao really had gone there often, wandering around Mingzhu’s school apartment trying to run into her.

She just hadn’t encountered her even once. Mingzhu’s social media posts always had a delay; it was usually only after Rong Zhao had taken the seven-hour flight back to the UK that she saw Mingzhu had been out having fun with friends over the weekend.

Rong Zhao glanced at Mingzhu and casually changed the subject: “Time to sleep?”

Mingzhu’s heart tightened, followed by a surge of anticipation. “Sleep. It’s late already.”