After the Divorce, the Whole World is Waiting for Us to Get Back Together - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

In contrast to her usual cold and abstinent image in front of the camera, Meng Zhijin at this moment possessed a multifaceted charm that veered far away from her typical persona.

Her loose, long hair swept across her back and profile, and the pure white dress enveloped her—clean and casual, yet deeply stirring.

But Cheng Xi had seen her this casual before. More than once. Past memories overlapped with reality, bringing a rush of familiarity that felt almost indescribably bewildering.

Meng Zhijin soon noticed the uninvited guests in her home. She turned her head to find Cheng Xi and Qi Ming standing at her doorway, with the front door swinging wide open. The wind swept through the room, fluttering the curtains in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, it was hauntingly quiet.

Six eyes met; all three people froze.

Qi Ming was the first to speak: “Teacher Meng, why are you here?” She swallowed the rest of her sentence: And why are you dressed like that?

“This is my home,” Meng Zhijin’s voice was somewhat cold, as if she were displeased by the two of them intruding into her house.

“Your home?” Cheng Xi was stunned. She turned to look at Qi Ming.

Isn’t this my house? Didn’t I just pay the down payment? Is it possible for a house sale to split one unit into two halves for different people?

“2602. My home,” Meng Zhijin added.

Meng Zhijin’s voice wasn’t particularly heavy, yet it hit Qi Ming like a thunderbolt. In disbelief, Qi Ming pulled up the photos she had taken earlier to confirm.

Although the two doors were identical, there was a slight difference in the small metal house number plates. The artistic font for “1” had hooks at the top and bottom, but it was distinctly different from the “2” across the hall.

“260… 1?” Qi Ming’s eyes grew wider as she looked at the photo. She immediately turned to Meng Zhijin, full of apology: “Sorry, Teacher Meng, we went to the wrong door. Truly, my apologies.”

Maintaining her professional poise as a manager, Qi Ming quickly added: “We just moved in across the hall from you today. We’re neighbors now. We’ll pay a formal visit next time when we’re free. We’ve really troubled you today.”

Meng Zhijin gave a quiet “Mhm” in response, no longer taking issue with the fact that someone had walked into her home by mistake. The steam rising from her cup was blown across her face by the wind, seemingly washing away much of the displeasure between her brows.

Qi Ming felt this incident was the Waterloo of her career. She grabbed Cheng Xi to lead her out. However, just as they crossed the threshold, Cheng Xi seemed to remember something and suddenly braked.

She propped her hand against the doorframe and looked back meaningfully at Meng Zhijin, who was still standing by the long bar. “But Teacher Meng, why did my birthday open your front door?”

The moment the words fell, the world seemed to fall silent. Qi Ming, who had been drowning in embarrassment, suddenly had a gleam in her eyes.

Meng Zhijin’s action of drinking water paused. The light fell on her lowered eyelashes, making it impossible to read her current emotions.

Cheng Xi leaned against the doorframe, waiting for an answer. There was a blatant streak of rebelliousness in her slightly curved eyes. It was hard to say how many thoughts were racing through her mind; the ever-competitive Cheng Xi felt she finally had the upper hand—as if Meng Zhijin was the only one here who couldn’t let go of the past.

Time seemed to stretch, or perhaps it was just two ticks of the second hand.

The glass clinked softly as it was placed on the bar. Meng Zhijin slowly raised her eyes, walked over to Cheng Xi, and stopped right at the door. The smart lock sensed the proximity of a finger and lit up.

Under Cheng Xi’s gaze, Meng Zhijin briskly entered a string of numbers. A similar rotating light appeared before the three of them—the indicator for a correct password.

Meng Zhijin shifted her gaze from the lock to meet Cheng Xi’s eyes, her voice carrying a sense of calm detachment: “0327. My birthday, and also the password to my home.”

The air grew even stiller.

Meng Zhijin’s birthday was March 27th. On a standard nine-key digital lock, the numbers 3 and 6 are arranged vertically.

So… it was because Cheng Xi had been in such a hurry earlier that she had pressed the wrong key.

Cheng Xi’s fire was instantly extinguished. A wave of heat rushed to her ears hidden beneath her hair.

Meng Zhijin spoke unhurriedly: “Don’t make such a blunder again in the future.”

“…Oh.”

Cheng Xi felt she had never been this humiliated in her life. She gave a curt response and fled with Qi Ming. The hallway lights brightly illuminated the windowless space, emphasizing the fox-like figure’s retreating back as one of utter defeat.

Meng Zhijin leaned against the doorframe and watched quietly. As she saw Cheng Xi enter the opposite house, a flash of a smile crossed her eyes.

Fleeing in defeat… actually quite interesting.

Buzz, buzz.

Just then, Meng Zhijin’s phone on the bar vibrated. Marble doesn’t absorb vibrations, so the sound of incoming messages was particularly loud in the empty room.

Meng Zhijin closed the door and returned to the house. She glanced at the phone, her eyes darkening.

She hadn’t even contacted her yet, but the woman had delivered herself right to the door.

Su Jing: “Rumor has it a new neighbor moved in next door to you.”

Meng Zhijin was direct: “Cheng Xi.”

Su Jing was surprised: “Met already?”

“She went to the wrong door and entered my house with the password”, Meng Zhijin stated simply.

“?” Su Jing froze on the other end. “How did you handle it? That kid Cheng Xi isn’t easy to fool.”

Meng Zhijin didn’t answer directly: “The lock has two passwords. One user code, one master code.”

Su Jing understood immediately, but her duty as a manager forced her to warn: “I suggest you change the password regardless. Haven’t I told you not to do this? If someone with ill intent finds out, who knows what chaos will ensue.”

Meng Zhijin looked at the message—it wasn’t the first time Su Jing had brought this up. Her eyes dimmed. She hadn’t listened in the past, and she wouldn’t now. Moreover, she had something more important to ask: “Tell me why you knew about this move in the first place.”

Su Jing pursed her lips and gave a simple explanation: “Little Ming ranted on her Moments, so I knew she was looking for a house for Cheng Xi. I just did a small favor and gave her the research I gathered when I bought a house for you.”

She added: “Do you really think I’m a god who can control the whole board?”

Meng Zhijin looked at the text and a knowing smile touched her lips. Su Jing did have that ability—the ability to control the whole board—otherwise, how could she be one of the top managers in the industry?

Knowing it wasn’t a good topic, Su Jing didn’t wait for a reply: “Consider this my homecoming gift to you. How is it?”

Meng Zhijin looked at the boring message, lowered her lashes, and tossed the phone back on the table, unilaterally ending the conversation.

The afternoon was leisurely, and the sunlight turned gentle. The wind blew through the bamboo forest with a rustling sound. Su Jing stood at a mahogany table, her arms poised as she practiced calligraphy to calm her mind.

Although she and Meng Zhijin didn’t have much of a “senior-junior” distance between them, Su Jing was indeed a senior twenty years older than Meng Zhijin. Rising from being her mother’s small assistant to a top-tier manager wasn’t easy. Now that she was older, she didn’t have such a fierce career drive. Combined with the physical toll of her younger years, Meng Zhijin was the only artist she personally managed now. In her spare time, she had started learning to cultivate her character.

Her brush had just touched the rice paper when her phone lit up. The notification sound was crisp. Before she could finish the stroke, Su Jing set the brush down and opened the message. The only person who could make her phone ring with that specific sound was Meng Zhijin.

“Meng Zhijin: Accompany me to the filming site tomorrow. I’ll give you the ink I brought back from Huizhou, and your ‘favor’ is acknowledged.”

Su Jing’s eyes curved into a smile. That Hui Ink was a treasure Meng Zhijin had spent a long time searching for in China. Su Jing had mentioned it several times after her return, but Meng Zhijin had never relented. Today, she messaged saying she would give it tomorrow—and deliver it in person.

It was clear whether her “homecoming gift” had been well-received or not.

Actually, missing yesterday afternoon’s filming wasn’t a huge issue. However, sour jujubes were no match for potatoes. Cheng Xi and Meng Zhijin’s points were overtaken by Yu Tong and Xu Changyan, placing them in second.

While the ranking was only a one-point difference, the gap between the “first-place” and “second-place” date configurations was massive. The first-place winners got a candlelit dinner prepared by a five-star chef at the top of the nation’s highest skyscraper. The second-place winners got an outdoor dinner meticulously—if cheaply—arranged by the crew outside the Romantic Cabin, using the kind of small round tables common in cafes.

The difference wasn’t just a little bit. Cheng Xi even suspected the crew had spent half the budget on the five-star reservation.

“A bit resentful,” Cheng Xi muttered, sipping her wine. She propped her chin on her hand, looking at the area decorated with string lights to create a “date” atmosphere, and spoke to the camera.

The camera crew hadn’t worked with an artist of Cheng Xi’s personality before. Seeing her look downcast on camera made them nervous. With a face as striking as hers, even a slight frown made her look lethal and hard to approach.

“Here.”

At that moment, a plate with a sliced steak appeared in Cheng Xi’s frame. Meng Zhijin sat to Cheng Xi’s left and unhurriedly swapped her plate for Cheng Xi’s. She exposed her: “If you can’t cut the steak well, don’t take it out on the innocent meat.”

“…” Being seen through, Cheng Xi felt a bit awkward. She looked at the steak Meng Zhijin had handed over and gave a playful smile: “Teacher Meng is so kind?”

“Yes,” Meng Zhijin didn’t show her usual modesty; she accepted the praise frankly. She naturally took over Cheng Xi’s plate, where a poorly hacked piece of beef lay pathetically at the edge.

Throughout the dinner, Meng Zhijin didn’t speak much. She sat across the small table, quietly and naturally blending into the beautiful night scene. Cheng Xi was the one who broke the canvas; most of the conversation was her talking—either lamenting that they should have picked up more jujubes before coming down the mountain or complaining that the crew’s decorations were half-hearted.

If one only heard the description, they’d think Cheng Xi was a talkative killjoy and that Meng Zhijin was suffering. But through the lens, the scene had a unique harmony. It was even beautiful.

The habitually cold Meng Zhijin would listen patiently to Cheng Xi. She would curve her lips to support her. She would even raise her glass to toast when Cheng Xi needed it.

The young director responsible for their date today watched the monitor, looking even more excited than the head director. The eyes staring at the screen from afar clearly read: If this isn’t love.

Perhaps mellowed by the alcohol, their date that night was more harmonious than expected. There were no awkward silences; in fact, there was a sense of naturalness and comfort that Cheng Xi couldn’t quite describe.

The food was finished, and only a drop of wine remained in the decanter—just enough to cover the bottom of a glass. Cheng Xi poured the last of the wine equally for herself and Meng Zhijin, then looked up at the night sky. One by one, stars lit up the dark velvet, bright and twinkling like white paint splattered by God onto a black canvas.

Cheng Xi couldn’t remember the last time she saw such a beautiful night sky. She sighed: “The sky in the outskirts is so much better than in the city.”

“No light pollution,” Meng Zhijin replied.

Cheng Xi, dissatisfied with the technical answer, curled her lip and tossed two words at her: “Boring.”

Meng Zhijin took a sip of wine. “It’s the truth.”

Cheng Xi huffed again. The alcohol was slowly taking effect, making her feel a bit light-headed. She gazed at the stars. Under the influence of the wine, the summer scene seemed covered in a layer of winter snow. A thought popped into her head: “Teacher Meng, don’t you think this kind of starlight is very suitable for kissing?”

Cheng Xi smiled slightly, speaking slowly, and took another sip of wine. Her thin lips were stained a lingering red, and the shimmering wine residue gave them an inviting crystalline coating.

She did it on purpose. Her wine-flushed eyes held a streak of unbridled provocation.

But Cheng Xi wasn’t the only one feeling the alcohol under the starlight. She heard the sound of a chair scraping against the ground. The chair she was sitting on was immediately bumped by another.

A familiar coolness brushed against her chin.

Then came the kiss she had provoked.

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