After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: At Night

Rong Zhao had become a different person.

The drone came with six batteries. Each battery lasted about 25 minutes, and a fast charge took about 35. This was plenty for Mingzhu to rotate through them. She spent the entire afternoon and evening flying, occasionally editing the cinematic footage she captured—circling shots, low-angle pans—playing to her heart’s content.

As night fell, Mingzhu leaned against the headboard to continue editing, while Rong Zhao sat quietly beside her, reading a book. Occasionally, Mingzhu would ask a question about the ancestral rites to jot down; other times, the room was filled with snippets of background music from her edits.

Mingzhu was a talker. Even while editing, she’d mutter to herself about which shots were good or bad, focused as if Rong Zhao wasn’t even there. She’d wave her hands in excitement from time to time, making it much noisier than the five days she’d spent at He Chan’s house. Yet, it was this pleasant noise and lively focus that brought a faint, relaxed smile to Rong Zhao’s eyes whenever she glanced over while turning a page.

It was past 10:00 PM. Rong Zhao’s peripheral vision caught Mingzhu again and again, but Mingzhu showed no sign of wanting to sleep. Rong Zhao turned the pages of her book with a growing sense of loneliness.

Finally, Mingzhu finished. She leaned in close to show Rong Zhao, her heart racing with pride. “Rongrong, look! This is the first short film I flew today. It’s of Rongguang Tianjing and the surroundings. If you ever want to sell this house, show them this—it’ll definitely fetch a higher price.”

Rong Zhao: “…Thank you so much for that.”

Rong Zhao hit play. Mingzhu rested her chin on Rong Zhao’s shoulder to watch together. The warm, jasmine-scented breath from Mingzhu brushed against the side of Rong Zhao’s face, causing her breathing to slow.

Just as Rong Zhao was getting into the video, Mingzhu—acting completely at home—draped her leg over Rong Zhao’s blanket, her knee pressing right against Rong Zhao’s abdomen. A few frames of the video blurred before Rong Zhao’s distracted eyes; her thoughts had drifted.

“Is it good? How’s the framing? How’s the cut? What if I shoot our wedding like this?” Mingzhu’s beautiful eyes sparkled with anticipation.

For a split second, Rong Zhao had the illusion that they were actually discussing their wedding. Well, they were—it just held a different meaning in each of their hearts.

“It’s good,” Rong Zhao offered clear praise to the smug Mingzhu. “As expected of Director Bai. I’ll leave the wedding aerials to you.”

Mingzhu’s lips curled into a silent, proud grin before she burst into a laugh. “I’ll still need to hire another pilot, though. I can’t exactly operate a drone while I’m walking down the aisle, can I?”

Rong Zhao chuckled softly. “Mhm.”

In truth, Mingzhu really was good. It wasn’t just a hollow compliment. The resolution was crisp, the shots were stable, and she’d even included some technical maneuvers. It was clear Mingzhu had practiced enough to crash a few drones in her time. The daytime and nighttime shots looked like something from a travel channel; some of Mingzhu’s daring maneuvers even gave the footage a level of texture and quality that exceeded standard scenic films.

Rong Zhao remembered that even as a child, Mingzhu had a competitive streak. She recalled Mingzhu struggling a bit when she first started middle school—she was two years younger than her classmates and a bit restless, ranking only in the middle of the class. Later, perhaps spurred by Rong Zhao or simply out of her own stubbornness, she pushed herself until she was near the top, though she remained stuck just outside the top ten. Mingzhu was the type to either slack off completely or give it her absolute all—like a stubborn flower bud that either wouldn’t bloom or would become the most brilliant blossom in the garden. How could one not admire that?

Rong Zhao glanced at their tangled black and red hair. “If you find the laptop easy to use, you can keep it. There’s nothing private on it.”

Mingzhu was using Rong Zhao’s laptop—a top-of-the-line model manufactured by Rong-Tech. She loved it. Leaning on Rong Zhao’s shoulder, she giggled, fantasizing about the future. “That’s great! Now I have the drone and the laptop. If we get divorced and I run out of money, I’ll just post a pilot bio and take commissions for city promos and corporate shots. If you need me to film Rong-Tech products, I’ll give you a discount.”

Rong Zhao: “…” I want to strike that word from our dictionary.

“Do you have a license?” Rong Zhao asked. She remembered that commercial work required certification.

“Of course I do!” Mingzhu reached out and tapped Rong Zhao’s cheek. “Don’t underestimate me. I love exams. I even have a pilot’s license. Does your family have a private jet? Next time, apply for a flight path in advance, and I’ll fly you back to your ancestral home myself.”

Rong Zhao: “…What other licenses do you have?”

“I also have a marriage license with you.”

“…”

A big reason for Mingzhu’s bright personality was that she didn’t care if Rong Zhao responded. She laughed on Rong Zhao’s shoulder for a bit before continuing to chatter about filming. “It would have been better to film last month; I could have caught the cherry blossoms. This time it’s just little sprouts.”

Rong Zhao said casually, “You can film them when they bloom next year.”

The thought of being able to enjoy the good life at Rong Zhao’s house for the next two or three years energized Mingzhu. Her voice turned sweet and melodic. “I’ll film the year after, too.”

Rong Zhao: “The year after that works, as well.”

A strange, awkward feeling flickered in Mingzhu’s heart. Why is Rong Zhao being so agreeable? When Rong Zhao was cold, she didn’t like it; but when Rong Zhao went along with her, she felt weird.

Rong Zhao, sensing it was time to push Mingzhu away in both word and deed, shifted her shoulder. “We’ll likely have dinner with the whole family in a week or two. Is that a problem, Miss Bai?”

It was a professional, business-like tone. So she’s only being nice because she needs a favor, Mingzhu thought, feeling relieved. She climbed further onto Rong Zhao. “No problem at all! Don’t worry, I’m the most suitable wife and best helpmate in the world.”

Flustered by the proximity of Mingzhu’s breath, Rong Zhao stopped the small talk. She handed the laptop back to Mingzhu, got out of bed to wash her hands, and lay down on her side, facing away, ready to sleep.

Mingzhu washed her hands too—not out of OCD, but because she’d been touching the laptop and phone. If she touched her face or rubbed her nose in her sleep, she’d get it dirty; she had to protect her pretty face.

Back in bed, Mingzhu fidgeted on her side, eventually sliding into Rong Zhao’s covers. Her hand rested on Rong Zhao’s waist, sliding around like it was on a playground slide. Rong Zhao’s breathing tightened. She threw Mingzhu’s hand back, but Mingzhu quickly replaced it, becoming even more daring in her excitement.

She was like a happy, oblivious puppy—the more the owner reacted, no matter what kind of reaction it was, the puppy took it as a game and climbed all over the owner.

Last time, Mingzhu had stayed behind Rong Zhao. This time, as Rong Zhao lay on her back and opened her eyes, she saw Mingzhu’s fearless face hovering directly over her. Mingzhu had pinned her hair up, but two strands of bangs hung down, brushing against Rong Zhao’s cheeks with every movement.

The itching made Rong Zhao close her eyes. Suddenly, she thought of the word “Baby” in their chat. In a daze, that word transformed into a sticky, sweet, coaxing voice calling to her from above. Her face and ears turned scarlet, and she broke into a sweat. She suddenly gripped Mingzhu’s arms, an uncontrollable sound escaping her throat.

Mingzhu couldn’t look away from Rong Zhao’s face. She didn’t want to miss a single detail of her expression softening or her pink lips parting. She felt Rong Zhao’s uneven breath and the strength of the grip on her arms. To Mingzhu, the greatest pride in the world wasn’t being a famous pilot or a top director—it was crushing Rong Zhao, seeing the usually composed woman lose control, flushed and vulnerable like this.

A wave of indescribable, tingling electricity shot to the top of Rong Zhao’s head and then raced down. Her toes curled, her waist arched uncontrollably, and her abdomen contracted.

“Rongrong, thank you for the drone. I’m so happy today,” Mingzhu whispered, staring into Rong Zhao’s eyes.

Just as Rong Zhao was about to speak, she felt a new sensation—one wave following another. Her gasps turned sharp and high. She lifted a leg to kick the over-excited Mingzhu. “Bai Mingzhu, that’s enough.”

But Mingzhu grabbed Rong Zhao’s ankle, becoming even more relentless. She cooed, “You don’t have work tomorrow anyway. Let me practice. My last few tries were just random; let me find the rhythm…”

Rong Zhao grabbed Mingzhu’s pillow and pulled it over her face, but it was soon snatched away. The room’s temperature continued to rise. Sweat beaded on her burning face and soaked her back. Unable to endure it any longer, Rong Zhao decided to stop holding back. She took a deep breath and goaded Mingzhu: “If you can’t find it, forget it. You probably don’t have the talent for this.”

Mingzhu was instantly provoked, even feeling a bit indignant. “Who says I don’t? Watch me.” She pressed down firmly.

The pressure made Rong Zhao arch her back, her knees propping up. Mingzhu held her knees down, refusing to let her move. She wanted to use a kiss to seal Rong Zhao’s mouth, but she didn’t quite dare.

Rong Zhao’s breathing became uncontrollably rapid. She turned her head away to take deep gulps of air. Perhaps if she were kissed right now, it would be easier, but without a kiss, she could only turn her head and bite down on her own dark hair.

The next day was overcast with a light drizzle. Both Mingzhu and Rong Zhao slept in. After brunch around 10:00 AM, they lounged in the living room.

Rong Zhao sat at one end of the long sofa, checking project progress on her tablet. Mingzhu brought over a tray of snacks and put on some MVs on the TV. She rested her head on Rong Zhao’s lap and handed her a piece of white chocolate. “Want a snack?”

Rong Zhao: “Unwrap it for me.”

Mingzhu looked at Rong Zhao’s hands—she was indeed busy—so she unwrapped it and fed it to her.

Rong Zhao took a bite, glanced at the tray, and asked after swallowing, “Are these the same ones you gave the makeup artist and the teacher?”

Mingzhu: “Those are gone. I had Auntie Guan restock. Otherwise, there’s only fruit and tea in the house. If guests or teachers come over next time, we wouldn’t have any little snacks for them to take away. Is it good?”

Rong Zhao nodded slightly. “Not bad, Young Madam.”

Mingzhu: “…” She’s teasing me, but whatever.

Mingzhu said, “Exactly. As the ‘Little Mrs. Rong,’ I have to handle the small household affairs. At least if those two teachers talk about the Rong family, even if they don’t praise me, they won’t complain that we didn’t even have snacks.”

Rong Zhao praised her sincerely: “Yes, you’re very thoughtful. Thank you for your hard work, Young Madam.”

Mingzhu suspected Rong Zhao was being sarcastic again. She pouted and stopped talking, picking up her phone to look for suitable wedding venues.

Since it was a holiday, many kids were looking for Teacher He Chan for English practice, so she was busy. He Chan didn’t have time to play with Mingzhu. And since Rong Zhao had told the family Mingzhu was sick, Mingzhu had to stay home and do research.

“By the way,” Mingzhu put down her phone and looked at Rong Zhao. She saw Rong Zhao’s soft, rounded chin and tapped it. It was soft and white. She pulled her hand back before Rong Zhao could push it away. “Didn’t you say you came back because you had things to handle? Aren’t you going out today?”

Rong Zhao: “…I finished everything after getting off the plane yesterday.”

“Oh. So you have nothing else to do today? You’re not going out?”

“…”

Rong Zhao moved the tablet and looked down at Mingzhu. “Don’t want me at home?”

Mingzhu wanted to nod, but she didn’t dare. She really wanted to hang out with Rong Zhao’s cousin, Gu Jashan, to find out about Lu Zi. She had asked Rong Zhao about her before she left, but Rong Zhao just said she didn’t know her well. She wasn’t sure if Rong Zhao was being honest or just didn’t want to talk. All she got was the name “Gu Jashan.”

She had checked the Rong family WeChat group; Gu Jashan was there. Her profile picture was a mirror selfie. Mingzhu could send her a friend request, but with Rong Zhao right there, she felt doing it in front of her was disrespectful. Doing it behind her back seemed better. Of course, she knew this was Rong Zhao’s house; she wouldn’t dare kick her out.

Mingzhu yawned, covering her mouth while lying on Rong Zhao’s lap. She closed her eyes. “Not at all. I’m just sleepy again. I’m going to nap.”

Her eyelashes fluttered under Rong Zhao’s gaze. Rong Zhao considered for a moment then asked, “I’m going for a swim in a bit. Want to join? There are hot spring pools there, too.”

“Yes!” Mingzhu’s sleepiness vanished instantly. She sat up, hands on Rong Zhao’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes sparkled with what looked like affection.

Rong Zhao raised an eyebrow. “Not sleepy anymore? If you are, I’ll just go by myself.”

“Who’s sleepy? I’m definitely not. I’m going with you.” Mingzhu tossed her hair, her eyes bright.

Rong Zhao’s lips quirked. She was about to ask if Mingzhu could wear one of her swimsuits when Auntie Guan walked over.

“Miss, Young Madam, there is a visitor at the door.”

“Why didn’t I hear the doorbell?” Mingzhu asked first.

Auntie Guan: “…The doorbell has been broken for a few days. It doesn’t ring. The security guard told me.”

Mingzhu frowned, pushing Rong Zhao’s leg. “The gate needs to be fixed. It wasn’t working right when I came, either. It was wide open. And now the doorbell is broken—it’s not safe.”

“…Mhm,” Rong Zhao glanced casually at Mingzhu’s hands fumbling on her lap before asking Auntie Guan, “Who is it? Did the guard ask?”

Auntie Guan: “It’s Wan Ling from Wanteng Power.”

Mingzhu was never one to fear trouble; in fact, she quite enjoyed getting involved. She was suddenly very interested—this was much more fun than swimming with Rong Zhao. Her feet hit the floor as she put on her slippers, smoothing her nightgown. “Is she alone?”

Auntie Guan kept her eyes steady. “She’s with the third family’s niece, Gu Jashan. They came together with umbrellas and are carrying gift boxes.”

Mingzhu: “?!”

Speak of the devil. Perfect timing.

“Go upstairs and stay there! Don’t come out unless I call you. Lock the door. Just pretend you’re not home,” Mingzhu urged, pulling Rong Zhao up.

Rong Zhao was surprisingly easy to lead. She stood up as soon as Mingzhu pulled her and headed upstairs with an elegant, silent gait. She looked back to remind Mingzhu:

“Do you want to put on some ‘sickly’ makeup?”

Rong Zhao’s fox-like eyes looked cold and intelligent when she wasn’t smiling, but when she raised an eyebrow, she looked quite cunning—as if she were used to calculating and manipulating people.

“Good idea!” Mingzhu chased after her, intentionally stepping two steps ahead on the stairs.

Rong Zhao watched the childish yet adorable red-haired figure competing even on the stairs and smiled to herself.