After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Seeing Her Off

The tip of her tongue slowly brushed over.

“Rongrong, do you really have nothing to tell me? Really nothing?”

The moon hung high on the branches, and Mingzhu’s disgruntled voice echoed softly in the bedroom.

The door was tightly shut. A dim orange lamp glowed by the bed, illuminating the discarded bathrobes strewn across the floor. Wet footprints trailed messily from the bedside all the way into the bathroom.

The bathroom was equally chaotic. Water from the soaking tub had splashed onto the tiles; the sauna door stood ajar, its heat long since dissipated; two damp, tangled towels lay abandoned on the ground.

The room was empty of people now.

On the bed in the bedroom, Mingzhu was draped half-prone over Rong Zhao, pressing her for an answer: “If you don’t give me any instructions, I won’t know what to say when people ask about me.”

She was about to leave, yet Rong Zhao hadn’t given her a single word of caution or advice.

Earlier in the bathroom, Mingzhu had clung to Rong Zhao, obsessed with their impending separation. They had soaked in the hot spring together and steamed in the sauna as she wished. Rong Zhao had intentionally baited her, and Mingzhu, ever the willing prey, had flirted boldly. Rong Zhao had indulged her, allowing her to behave willfully through three rounds of intimacy.

But after emerging from the bathroom, when Mingzhu playfully asked if there were any “parting words,” Rong Zhao actually said there were none!

Is she so happy that I won’t be home to bother her anymore? Mingzhu wondered.

Rong Zhao hadn’t caught her breath all night. She panted slightly, tilting her head back; the orange light made her flushed cheeks glow, revealing a faint shimmer of perspiration. Her hand rested on the back of Mingzhu’s head; she had wanted to grab Mingzhu’s hair several times but restrained herself. “Say whatever you want to say.”

Mingzhu was fuming. She kissed away the sweat on Rong Zhao’s forehead, then bit her ear, her tongue darting inside.

Rong Zhao’s breath caught in her throat. Finally unable to endure it, she patted Mingzhu’s wrist in a hurried urge: “Hurry up.”

“I won’t,” Mingzhu teased.

Rong Zhao: “…”

Mingzhu usually considered herself only seemingly willful, but tonight was different. For some reason, Rong Zhao’s usual taciturn style was making her feel incredibly frustrated.

After the round finally ended, Mingzhu’s lips moved downward. “I want to leave a ‘strawberry’ (hickey) on your neck.”

“Why?” Rong Zhao’s voice was soft and airy, punctuated by delicate pants. Her fingertips lightly stroked the soft skin of Mingzhu’s nape.

Mingzhu felt a tingle in her ears from Rong Zhao’s sexy voice—a tingle that spread through her entire body. Seeing that Mingzhu hadn’t answered, Rong Zhao’s fingers drifted lower, tracing the line of Mingzhu’s back and shoulder blades. “Mhm? Why?”

Mingzhu took Rong Zhao’s rounded chin into her mouth, her tongue brushing over it slowly. She finally found a “serious” reason amidst her scattered thoughts: “It’s for outsiders to see. I’m going on a business trip, and since we can’t bear to be apart, I accidentally left a mark. It shows we have a great relationship, doesn’t it?”

Rong Zhao wouldn’t let her kiss her on the lips—wasn’t she at least allowed to plant a few strawberries?

Rong Zhao’s collarbone was already reddening. She pressed down on the back of Mingzhu’s neck and said with trembling knees, “Since your mouth doesn’t want to be idle, don’t let your hands be idle either.”

Mingzhu laughed. She looked up and said, “I’m not very good at making strawberries. Let me practice first.”

Rong Zhao shuddered violently, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Her voice was high and strained: “Don’t stop.”

Mingzhu adored Rong Zhao in this state—the daytime “ice queen” had melted away, replaced by a woman who trembled like a flower clinging to her. Mingzhu lowered her head and tried to plant a mark on Rong Zhao’s flawless white neck.

It hurt a little, but Rong Zhao bore it. As Mingzhu practiced, she got the hang of it, and her mind began to lose all logic as she moved further south. Touching upon old, distant memories, she felt like a child again, carefree and clutching a bottle of milk.

Rong Zhao’s eyelashes fluttered incessantly; she bit her lower lip and pressed Mingzhu’s shoulder. She knew Mingzhu’s actions weren’t born of deep romantic feelings, but rather a desire for achievement and conquest. If Mingzhu wanted it, she would give it. Even the most intimate acts were a joy to her.

The night before a separation is always long. The moonlight shifted across the floor several times, but the mesmerizing sounds from the third-floor bedroom of Rongguang Villa never truly ceased.

The next morning, after breakfast, they headed out. A misty drizzle was falling, turning the world into a hazy, velvet gray.

Rong Zhao was taking Mingzhu to the hospital for her check-up. Knowing Mingzhu might be embarrassed, she didn’t bring anyone else and drove the car herself.

Mingzhu sat in the passenger seat, coordinating times with Jiangjiang on her phone. She stole a glance at Rong Zhao’s high-collared outfit and coughed. “Are you hot?”

Rong Zhao suddenly chuckled, glancing over with a playful glint in her eyes. “Did it taste good?”

Mingzhu’s ears instantly turned red. Rong Zhao laughed so rarely that every instance made Mingzhu’s heart itch, and this particular laugh made her want to crawl into a hole. She had really played too wildly last night. Why did I eat everything?

Fortunately, they hadn’t gone any further “down.” She assumed their intimacy would always stop at the waist. Even if they both got incredibly drunk, they probably wouldn’t go further.

But what if we did? Mingzhu suddenly felt a surge of heat and didn’t dare think more.

Rong Zhao, however, seemed to be in a chatty mood. “Which side had a better texture?”

Mingzhu’s breath hitched. She grabbed a jacket and threw it over her head to hide her burning face. After a moment, she uncovered herself, determined to be just as bold as Rong Zhao. She toyed with her hair provocatively and said, “The left one is a bit bigger.”

Rong Zhao turned the steering wheel to merge into a lane. “Compared to yours?”

Mingzhu: “…”

When she had worn Rong Zhao’s clothes before, she noticed the chest was tight while the waist was loose. Rong Zhao had a larger bust and a slimmer waist—a figure that Mingzhu found quite enviable.

Mingzhu said pointedly, “Next time, you can try for yourself.”

“Mhm? Try what?”

“…Try whose is bigger.”

Rong Zhao turned to look at her. “Oh? Really? You’ll let me try personally?”

Mingzhu threw the jacket over her head again. How can Rong Zhao be such a flirt?! She couldn’t even beat her in a conversation. Yesterday’s Rong Zhao was much better—compliant and sweet.

Rong Zhao stopped teasing. Worried Mingzhu would be uncomfortable under the jacket, she pulled it off her. “Find two masks. Hospitals are full of viruses.”

This was serious business. Mingzhu stopped bickering, pulled masks from the armrest box, and put one on herself before fitting one on Rong Zhao as they stepped out.

The process of seeing the doctor and getting tests was orderly under Rong Zhao’s guidance. By 11:00 AM, the results were in: no organic lesions. Just like Rong Zhao, she just needed to take medicine on time to regulate her body.

Rong Zhao led her to the pharmacy. Carrying a bag of medicine, Mingzhu felt a strange sensation in her heart. She never would have imagined Rong Zhao would be the one taking her to a doctor for period cramps.

“So this is what it feels like to actually take care of a problem,” Mingzhu said, hooking her arm into Rong Zhao’s.

“Mhm?” Rong Zhao pulled Mingzhu closer to avoid a patient running toward them.

Mingzhu leaned into her like she had no bones. “I thought period pain couldn’t be cured, so I just endured it. I didn’t realize it was this simple.” Her parents went for check-ups every year, but Mingzhu had always felt fine and disliked hospitals. It turned out to be much easier than she thought. “So I just take the medicine on time now?”

“Yes. Can you actually do that?” Rong Zhao asked skeptically.

Mingzhu’s lip curled slightly. She knew she probably couldn’t—especially with Jiangjiang in Xitang Town. She’d definitely forget her meals, let alone her meds.

Rong Zhao took the bag from her. “Start taking them after you finish filming and come back.” Since the tests were clear, there was no rush to start today. Mingzhu’s period was on the 14th; today was the 23rd. A few days’ delay wouldn’t matter. Once Mingzhu was back before May Day, Rong Zhao could supervise her herself.

Mingzhu smiled. “Okay. I’m hungry. Lunch?”

“What do you want?”

“Dumplings for those leaving, noodles for those arriving. Let’s get dumplings?”

Rong Zhao didn’t refuse. After lunch, they went back to the office to brush their teeth before Rong Zhao drove Mingzhu to the airport.

“We aren’t even kissing; why come back specifically to brush our teeth?” Mingzhu asked, knowing Rong Zhao hated the feeling of an unbrushed mouth.

“Just a precaution,” Rong Zhao said. “In case your ‘beastly nature’ takes over and I can’t push you away.”

Mingzhu was speechless, then laughed. “I am not kissing you.”

Rong Zhao smiled and dropped the subject.

At the airport, Rong Zhao opened the trunk. It held three suitcases packed by Auntie Guan, containing Mingzhu’s clothes, camera gear, and drones. Mingzhu got a luggage cart, and they worked together to load them.

As they pushed into the terminal, Mingzhu spotted Jiangjiang in the distance. She was about to check in, yet Rong Zhao still hadn’t given her any parting instructions. Mingzhu waited, growing more irritable by the second.

Last night had been the same. For some reason, she felt a flare of resentment, which made her even more aggressive in bed. She didn’t want to hurt Rong Zhao, but she felt a knot of anger. Does she want me to leave that badly?

Suddenly, two familiar figures pushed a luggage cart toward them.

“Sister Xiang? Secretary Qian!” Mingzhu was stunned.

Xiang Qian and Qian Meiyi walked over with smiles. “President Rong, Little Madam, good afternoon.”

Rong Zhao: “Good afternoon.”

Xiang Qian took the cart from Rong Zhao. “Don’t worry, President Rong. I’ll take good care of the Little Madam.”

Rong Zhao nodded. “Thank you for your hard work.”

Mingzhu looked at them in disbelief, then finally at Rong Zhao. It dawned on her: Rong Zhao hadn’t given her instructions because she had already arranged for her own secretary and head of security to accompany and care for her.

Mingzhu’s heart swelled. She lunged into Rong Zhao’s arms, forcing Rong Zhao to take a step back to steady them. “Secretary Qian is coming with me? What about you?” Mingzhu asked, looking up with a smile.

Rong Zhao giving her her own secretary proved she didn’t just worry about her—she cared for her deeply. Even if Rong Zhao cared for the “Mrs. Rong” persona, Mingzhu was Mrs. Rong.

Rong Zhao looked into Mingzhu’s smiling eyes and lightly twirled a strand of her red hair. “The company has assistants, and I can borrow a secretary from my father. Don’t worry.”

Mingzhu nodded happily, then pouted. “You should have told me yesterday.”

Rong Zhao hadn’t told her because she feared Mingzhu would refuse the help. By presenting it as a finished deal, Mingzhu would accept it. And it worked out—Mingzhu had been very “energetic” last night, which had been quite pleasant for Rong Zhao too.

As for Mingzhu’s grumpiness last night? It was likely because Rong Zhao hadn’t mentioned money.

Rong Zhao signaled to Secretary Qian, who handed over a card. Rong Zhao gave it to Mingzhu. “The card I gave you before was a credit card; you can’t withdraw cash. If you need cash, use this one. The password is the same. As for expenses, use the best hotels and car rentals. Don’t skimp on food. Eat plenty of fruit. Do you understand, Mrs. Rong?”

Mingzhu finally heard the instructions she wanted. She clutched the new card between her palms and nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Mrs. Rong understands. You’re the best, Rongrong.”

Rong Zhao smiled, twisting a lock of Mingzhu’s hair. She said out of the blue, “It’s time to touch up your hair color.” The black roots were starting to show.

Mingzhu wrapped her arms around Rong Zhao’s waist, her chin almost touching Rong Zhao’s. “Then when I get back, will you go with me to get it done?”

Rong Zhao said softly, “Okay.”

Jiangjiang, sitting on her suitcase nearby, impatiently replied to He Chan on her phone: “I know, I know! Stop nagging!” She muted him and walked toward Mingzhu. She seriously wondered if Teacher He thought she was a toddler—he even reminded her to wear matching socks.

As she got closer and saw how inseparable Rong Zhao and Mingzhu looked, Jiangjiang frowned in confusion. “You two…” Is this actually for real?

Mingzhu turned. “You only have one suitcase?”

“I’m using your toiletries and sharing your jackets,” Jiangjiang said simply.

Mingzhu: “…”

Jiangjiang, who was wearing a turtleneck, noticed Rong Zhao was also wearing one. Her brain did a double-take.

Rong Zhao said coolly, “Take care of Mingzhu. If you run out of toiletries or clothes, just buy more.”

Jiangjiang: “…”

Mingzhu sat on Jiangjiang’s suitcase and laughed. Rong Zhao looked at her, her voice warming. “Go have fun. Take care of yourself. Call me if anything happens.”

Mingzhu waved goodbye reluctantly. After checking her bags, she boarded the business class cabin. Once settled, she leaned her head against the window to look at the terminal.

The terminal was vast, making the planes look small. Her gaze swept aimlessly through the drizzle across the glass windows until it stopped. She thought she saw a figure behind one of the panes—it looked like Rong Zhao. Rong Zhao’s posture was always upright; she never slouched to hide her bust, and she never shied away from fitted clothes. She was always the same person who had boldly come out in high school and who calmly took care of her health.

Sister.

The word popped into Mingzhu’s head again. Rong Zhao was two years older, but she seemed so much more mature. Like an older sister, leading her like a lighthouse. Mingzhu pressed her forehead to the glass, her eyes fixed on the figure that looked like Rong Zhao.

She realized she had forgotten to say it—she had forgotten to tell Rong Zhao to take care of herself too. Why did her heart feel a bit heavy? Why was her nose stinging?

Inside the terminal, Rong Zhao stood by the window, touching her wedding ring. She stared out at the misty rain, looking past the droplets at the plane Mingzhu had boarded. She imagined Mingzhu’s vibrant face as she chattered away with Jiangjiang.

Would she be telling Jiangjiang about her drones? Would she be saying how bored she was at home? Mingzhu loved traveling; now that she was finally “free” of her, she would probably forget about her immediately.

The rain reflected in Rong Zhao’s eyes, making them look as though they were filled with a never-ending storm. Suddenly, the phone in her hand vibrated. She picked it up.

It was a WeChat message from Mingzhu.