After the Divorce, the Whole World is Waiting for Us to Get Back Together - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The magnolias in the master’s courtyard had bloomed; a breeze swept through, causing the large, pure white blossoms to sway on the branches.

A faint floral fragrance wafted in, mixing with the scent on Meng Zhijin’s body. It felt as if this breeze had also blown into Cheng Xi’s heart, creating ripples in her world.

Meng Zhijin’s approach was sudden, yet it lacked any sense of distance. Their shadows on the ground overlapped on camera, clearly outlining the detail of Meng Zhijin grasping Cheng Xi’s wrist.

She seemed to be flirting unintentionally, yet the flirtation truly originated from her.

Cheng Xi felt that Meng Zhijin was leaning far too close. To stay cool today, she had specifically tied up her hair. Her ear, adorned with a single pearl earring, was exposed. Meng Zhijin’s breath didn’t curve; it brushed straight past her with her voice.

It felt as if a wisp of air had even grazed the corner of her lips.

That elusive touch of heat made a sudden flash of memory cross Cheng Xi’s mind: that unexpected kiss under the starlight the other day. Soft and delicate, it hadn’t faded even with the passage of time.

“See, isn’t it much smoother this way?”

Meng Zhijin’s voice rang in Cheng Xi’s ear, instantly pulling her wandering thoughts back. Whether it was the nature of the silk thread itself or Meng Zhijin’s technique, the thread that Cheng Xi had made frizzy earlier had indeed become smooth again, even possessing a luster that contrasted sharply with the surrounding strands.

“Yes,” Cheng Xi nodded involuntarily, though her usually sharp gaze was a bit dull.

Perhaps because this place was so tranquil and detached, every movement Meng Zhijin made was exceptionally serious and careful. Her lowered eyelashes curved into a slight arc, catching the light falling from the courtyard. It felt like a sin to think of “those” things in such a clean, bright setting.

The master had originally intended to come over and correct Cheng Xi, but seeing Meng Zhijin there, he nodded in satisfaction. “Yes, exactly like that.”

“Don’t worry. Everything is hard at the beginning. Let’s comb the thread well first before starting the next step.”

Cheng Xi nodded as she listened. Following the sensation of Meng Zhijin guiding her wrist earlier, she slowly began to comb the thread. While she didn’t do as well as Meng Zhijin at first, after several repetitions, she achieved that beautiful luster.

Soon, practice made perfect, and she had all her thread combed. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Cheng Xi looked up at Meng Zhijin. “Teacher Meng.”

Under the light, the smoothed velvet thread reflected a beautiful, jewel-like red gradient, looking much like a fox’s vibrant tail.

Meng Zhijin looked deeply at Cheng Xi. In response to Cheng Xi’s boasting gaze, she nodded and acknowledged, “It’s better than mine.”

Hearing this, the smile on Cheng Xi’s face deepened.

After the fluff was aligned, the two followed the master’s lead in using annealed copper wire to separate the silk. Then, they cut the separated threads one by one, twisting them into dense velvet strips, and used scissors to trim the ends into points.

These steps looked easy when watching someone else, but they were quite difficult to do oneself. However, compared to the struggle of smoothing the silk, Cheng Xi learned the next few steps exceptionally quickly.

Her fingers were flexible. With a twist here and a rub there, a slightly loose velvet strip was produced. Then, using a rubbing board, the dense, plush feel of the velvet strip was fully revealed.

“Miss Cheng is doing very well,” the master noted, watching from behind with a satisfied nod.

Upon hearing this, Cheng Xi admired her own work and cast a glance toward Meng Zhijin. It was quite interesting—this person had been so adept at smoothing the threads, but her speed slowed down when it came to trimming the points.

Meng Zhijin’s high ponytail had loosened slightly, and her neck formed a beautiful curve as she tilted her head. Cheng Xi sat there with poor posture, propping her chin up with one hand. The smile at the corners of her eyes made her look like a mischievous “junior sister” who had rarely received praise from the master.

“Teacher Meng can’t do it?” Feeling triumphant, Cheng Xi took the initiative to speak to Meng Zhijin.

“Mhm,” Meng Zhijin replied, trimming the velvet strip in her hand with a look of distress. “I can’t seem to control the angle.”

Revenge is often one of the reasons a “fox” has mischievous ideas. Remembering how Meng Zhijin had been so uninhibited in front of the cameras earlier, Cheng Xi said, “Then beg me. Beg me, and I’ll teach you.”

But Cheng Xi had miscalculated.

The sunlight, filtered through the leaves, grew gentle as a familiar shadow blocked the light on one side of Cheng Xi. The fingers that had been holding the velvet strip hooked onto the hem of her T-shirt. Then, Meng Zhijin—who usually presented a cold and aloof image to the public—gently tugged at the fabric and said, “I beg you, kid.”

The fingers hooking her clothes were well-defined; the eyes she looked up with held a sense of vulnerability that contrasted with her coolness yet didn’t feel out of place.

Others had never seen this side of Meng Zhijin, but Cheng Xi had—and more than once. It was precisely because she had seen it before that her heart skipped a beat even more violently than anyone else’s.

She had almost forgotten that the current Meng Zhijin was the type to “give her an inch and she’ll take a mile.” She did it this time. She did it under the stars last time…

And she had forgotten: when had Meng Zhijin ever left her requests unanswered?

Cheng Xi’s ears burned. She agreed, “Then… bring your things over here, and I’ll teach you.”

Meng Zhijin complied, moving her things to Cheng Xi’s table. The two foam blocks used to hold the velvet strips were pressed together. As Meng Zhijin moved her chair, it once again bumped into Cheng Xi’s.

Their shadows overlapped on the wall. In the starless daylight, Meng Zhijin had once again moved very close to Cheng Xi. Seeing Meng Zhijin’s focused gaze on her hands out of the corner of her eye made Cheng Xi’s wrists feel a bit stiff.

Cheng Xi felt that this person seemed to lose all sense of personal space when she became serious. Did she act like this when rehearsing scenes with other actors? Cheng Xi felt a surge of inexplicable emotion.

Yet, among the staff, the master, and even the cameras, she seemed to be the only one who cared about these small details.

Frowning, Cheng Xi poked a velvet strip she had just trimmed into the foam block. The wire pierced the foam with a crisp, subtle sound—as if reminding her to stop overthinking and focus entirely on the work.

Pausing, Cheng Xi picked up one of Meng Zhijin’s velvet strips and demonstrated, “You should hold it like this; it’s easier to turn.”

Meng Zhijin nodded, picking up her strip and carefully observing Cheng Xi’s hand movements. She was even closer than before.

Cheng Xi sat up straight, dutifully acting as a model for Meng Zhijin. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she was the one taking advantage of Meng Zhijin or if Meng Zhijin was using this opportunity to tease her again.

After a while—or perhaps just a second or two—Meng Zhijin pulled her gaze away from Cheng Xi’s hands and nodded seriously. “I think I understand now.”

Cheng Xi retracted her hand and blinked. “Then… try making one.”

Perhaps Cheng Xi truly had a knack for teaching; Meng Zhijin’s speed and proficiency in trimming the velvet strips increased significantly. She finished the remaining strips efficiently. Even the master, resting nearby, nodded in approval and didn’t hold back his praise: “Miss Cheng explains things well—better than some of my apprentices.”

Cheng Xi gave an embarrassed smile. Looking at her velvet strips placed alongside Meng Zhijin’s, her gaze wasn’t entirely relaxed. She didn’t know how Meng Zhijin had felt while teaching her earlier, but as a “teacher” herself, she had been quite distracted.

Meng Zhijin’s gaze had fallen on her hands without any concealment, close enough that Cheng Xi could see the small mole on the side of her face. It was still as neat as in her memory—a light black with a hint of gray mist. A gentle kiss could reach her ear, and then…

“Mhm… kid.”

“And then we can use tweezers to fold the velvet strips into petal shapes and arrange them according to our needs.”

The master’s voice abruptly pulled Cheng Xi’s wandering thoughts back, slamming on the brakes.

“The two of you can try assembling the flower together,” the master said.

Cheng Xi watched the demonstration. Perhaps the sudden confusion had scattered her focus; she didn’t listen to the explanation very carefully. Fortunately, she still performed well. Soon, a red gradient Begonia flower took shape, blooming from her fingertips.

Finally, under the master’s guidance, Meng Zhijin combined the flower they had made with leaves provided by the master. The master nodded at the velvet hair-pin Begonia in satisfaction. “Very good. Would the two of you like to give this flower a name?”

Cheng Xi couldn’t think of a good name on the spot. Fearing she would pick something unrefined and be laughed at, she pushed the difficult task to Meng Zhijin. “Teacher Meng, you do it.”

Without hesitation, Meng Zhijin looked at the flower in her hand and said, “Let’s call it… ‘Qian Cheng Si Jin’.”

Cheng Xi froze at the name.

The master spoke before she could, nodding. “Qian Cheng Si Jin. It’s a good name with a great meaning.”

“Master, based on apprentice standards, how many points would you give Teacher Meng and Teacher Cheng for each step?” the segment director asked. The production team hadn’t discussed the scoring with the master beforehand.

The master paused to think, then listed the scores based on his usual criteria: “Since they aren’t professional apprentices, and this craft cannot be sloppy, I won’t give a ten.”

“For splitting and smoothing the silk: Miss Meng gets a 9; Miss Cheng is a bit behind with an 8.”

“For twisting the velvet strips: Miss Meng gets an 8; Miss Cheng gets a 9.”

“For assembling the petals: Since Miss Meng and Miss Cheng collaborated, I’ll score them together—an 8. It’s slightly off because the final finish isn’t very clean; the knot hidden here isn’t perfect.”

“Alright, thank you, Master,” the director said politely. She then took a phone from a staff member and read, “So we’ve calculated that for this velvet flower experience, Teacher Meng and Teacher Cheng each received a high score of 27, totaling 54. Congratulations.”

“According to the rules for this mission, your total score will be divided by the number of projects. You have earned a total of 18 points. Congratulations.”

As the sun set, the day’s filming finally ended. Cheng Xi’s group boarded the car to head back. Up ahead, a sea of red brake lights formed the evening rush hour. The driver didn’t have the right to provide entertainment, so no music or radio was playing. The silence inside the car formed a stark contrast to the bustle outside.

Bored, Cheng Xi looked at the street scenery outside. The events of making velvet flowers with Meng Zhijin earlier—and the name of the flower lying in the box in her lap—unavoidably popped into her head.

Squinting slightly, Cheng Xi propped her chin up and looked at Meng Zhijin. With an unreadable expression, she asked, “Teacher Meng, do you know what ‘Qian Cheng Si Jin’ means?”

Meng Zhijin nodded. “I know.”

Cheng Xi raised an eyebrow. Seeing Meng Zhijin so calm, she felt the woman probably didn’t care about these things. The smile in her eyes grew more cunning as she intentionally dug a hole: “Then tell me, Teacher Meng, what does it mean?”

The windshield reflected the red lights of the cars ahead as their vehicle began to move slowly. Upon hearing this, Meng Zhijin calmly met Cheng Xi’s gaze. A huge decorative tree outside a passing mall cast a shimmering light over her.

“I hope you are ahead of me,” Meng Zhijin said. “And that one day, like me, you can achieve what you want to achieve and get what you want to get.”

Cheng Xi’s hands, cradling the box in her lap, froze. It felt as if a massive sunset storm had swept through her heart, its fiery light making her stubborn, awkward convictions begin to crumble.

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