After the Real Young Miss Became My Canary - Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Song Zhi slowly let out a breath, her heart, which had been anxious for a long time, finally calmed down at that moment.

She should have expected it. Given Shen Ying’s personality, when she said she needed to think, she wouldn’t give an answer in a single day; that wasn’t enough time for her to plan the future. Shen Ying hadn’t intended to agree back then; Song Zhi should have known.

Shen Ying pretending to agree was because she knew Song Zhi was leaving. She waited until Song Zhi was gone to tell her through the screen. She wanted to completely sever her hopes, ensuring she had no chance to demand answers face-to-face, cruelly stripping her of her last opportunity to defend herself.

She had concealed her identity and deceived Shen Ying—she acknowledged the fact—but she still wanted a chance to explain.

Fu Xin saw Song Zhi’s face momentarily turn ugly and cautiously asked, “Are you alright?”

Song Zhi seemed to remember her presence, lifting her slightly dark brows to look at her. Song Zhi’s gaze was very cold, completely different from the distant aloofness of Shen Ying. When Song Zhi looked at her, she was entirely devoid of emotion, as if looking at a piece of drifting air, with zero presence. The look in her eyes sent a chill down Fu Xin’s spine for a moment; she involuntarily shivered.

Song Zhi asked plainly, “What is it?” Her expression had instantly returned to normal; at least Fu Xin couldn’t see any difference from when she first arrived. Fu Xin measured her tone, considering how to speak. She had a natural instinct for reading people’s expressions.

Fu Xin: “Song Qin said he has something very important to discuss with you. He wants to talk.”

Song Zhi never allowed men into her bedroom, and the impression she had left on Song Qin was too deep, so it wasn’t surprising he sent someone to relay his message. However…

Song Zhi: “No.”

Why should she talk to Song Qin? Since the death of her mother, the only time she and Song Qin were at peace was when Song Guan died.

Fu Xin subconsciously reached out but stopped herself when she met Song Zhi’s cold expression. She said urgently: “It’s about your mother. He said this is the only chance, and if you want to know later, you won’t have the opportunity.”

Song Zhi seemed to find this amusing; she gave a small, chilly smile: “Is he threatening me?”

Fu Xin immediately said anxiously: “No!” After speaking, she realized her voice was a little loud, and she immediately lowered it: “I’ve been here for half a day, and I can tell that your relationship is not good, Miss Song.”

Song Zhi held a cup, noncommittally.

Fu Xin couldn’t glean anything from her expression, so she forged ahead: “Actually, I’ve heard about you for a long time, Miss Song. You may not remember me, but we were classmates since elementary school. Even then, I took you as my goal, motivating myself to work as hard as you. Unfortunately, my family went bankrupt later, and I haven’t had the chance to see you since. When Song Qin confessed to me, my only thought was that this was a chance to stay near you. And sure enough,” her tone softened, as if she were inexplicably trapped in an unknown dream: “I saw you.”

Song Zhi was unmoved: “I’ll have the butler arrange two good tutors for you later.”

Fu Xin’s gaze became fervent: “No! Do you remember that time? That time in the small alley not far from the school? So many people were in the alley and ignored me, but you stepped forward at the critical moment and saved me! Otherwise, I would have died long ago!”

Song Zhi’s gaze finally rested on her. She lowered her head slightly in excitement, hoping the person sitting at the coffee table would see her face clearly. Her eye tails turned up slightly, and the curve of her eyelids followed the slight upturn, forming a beautiful arc. Through those light-colored eyes, Song Zhi was suddenly reminded of decades ago.

It was the day her mother died. Ten-year-old Song Zhi was going home by herself for the first time. She was looking around, happily following a child who was darting everywhere. She had met this child on the street. She didn’t know the way but was desperate to go home. She couldn’t wait for the family car to pick her up, or for school to end, so she quietly snuck out of school when the teacher wasn’t looking. On the way, she paid the child a hundred yuan to guide her, taking her through the large area where cars were forbidden so she could catch a taxi outside.

She was so eager for a reason: today, she could finally go see her mother. The thought made her happy again.

The child in front turned around at that moment. There were already three or four people between them: “Hurry up. Our school gets out earlier than yours; it’s almost dismissal time now.”

Song Zhi looked at her curiously: “Are you from the school next door?”

The two schools weren’t exactly “next door,” but they were the only two in a ten-mile radius. Thus, the most famous aristocratic primary school in Hong Kong City and the primary school across the street, which was the worst primary school built in the city village, were forced to be neighbors. But children didn’t know about “forced.” They only knew their school had a neighbor.

Song Zhi finished observing the person and started looking at her surroundings. This was her first time seeing so many people. They were milling about near a large gate. She mimicked the child in front, weaving through the crowd. The smell was unpleasant; the odors almost suffocated her sensitive nose, so she quickened her steps and burst through the crowd.

When she emerged, she wrinkled her nose, smelling the surrounding street. The cool, thin afternoon wind blew on her face, feeling very comfortable. She looked around excitedly, like a bee diligently leaving the hive for the first time. She saw a cluster of yellow flowers by the road, also swaying in the wind.

“What kind of flower is that?”

Silence.

She immediately realized something was wrong. The voice that had been chattering endlessly in her ear was gone! She looked around in a panic but couldn’t find the familiar figure. They had separated.

“Fu—” She tried to shout loudly. But she forgot. She forgot the person’s name, and the shout got stuck in her throat, swallowed back after she opened and closed her mouth several times. She sealed her mouth, took two steps back, and returned to where they had been, looking around frantically. She didn’t know when they got separated, but she remembered hearing the person’s voice behind her after walking through the crowd, so she was sure they must have separated here.

This was a narrow alley. They had been led here right after passing the girl’s school gate. There were no lights nearby. Song Zhi looked up at the road ahead. In front of her was a narrow, dark alley, wide enough for about four or five children her size to walk abreast. The alley she was in was bustling with people, but few entered the narrow one. The alley was unlit and thus appeared dark and deep, standing silently before Song Zhi with its black, gaping mouth.

Without hesitation, she quickly ducked into the dark alley. It didn’t matter where she went, as long as it got her home, as long as she could spend a little more time with her mother, even for one minute. Although her mother didn’t like her. Yes, her mother didn’t like her. A child’s perception of emotion is sharper than adults imagine.

As soon as she entered the alley, she froze. Four people were blocking the alley. To be precise, there were five, and the fifth was being blocked. The victim was wearing a faded yellow long-sleeved t-shirt, her soft hair hanging low. Unlike Song Zhi, who had already started caring about beauty, her hair only reached her neck, the ends slightly yellow, resting on her pale neck. She was being shoved by the group but refused to speak, no matter what they did.

Song Zhi planned to call the police when she got into the car. Even if she wanted to help now, she couldn’t. Although she had been learning martial arts from her family’s bodyguards for three or four years, she had only managed to defeat two boys last time, and they were around the same age. These people looked a head taller than her.

But…

She looked at the person in front. At that moment, someone gave a hard shove, and the person fell heavily to the ground. The group burst into laughter, then pulled her up, laughing. The victim was like a doll that only blinked, letting them manipulate her. As she moved, her hair swung, and Song Zhi finally saw her face. A pointed chin and two very beautiful eyes. The eyes were very bright, the corners upturned, and the thin double eyelids formed a pretty arc.

Song Zhi loved beautiful things. The prettier, the more she loved them. The walls of her bedroom were covered with various beautiful objects—butterfly specimens, intricately assembled blocks, and tiny animals made of gold.

The person was shoved to the ground again. This time, she finally lifted her head and looked at the people in front of her. Her light-colored eyes were full of stubbornness, startlingly bright.

The little fatty in front roared: “You’re not convinced?!” He extended his thick arm, grabbed the collar of the person who accepted the abuse, and was about to lift her when a crisp voice suddenly rang out: “Of course, she’s not convinced.”

He thought the voice came from beside him and wondered who dared to challenge him! The fatty suddenly shoved the victim, turned his head, and was about to throw a punch. The soft “doll” suddenly extended her scrawny foot and kicked his stomach with perfect accuracy. He screamed in pain. The other three immediately lunged at the “doll.” He covered his stomach with one fat hand, his other hand raised high, about to strike.

A heavy stick crashed onto his back first. This time, he realized something was truly wrong: “Who is it?!” Another stick slammed hard onto his back. The doll, at the instant the stick fell, fiercely grabbed the arm of the person closest to her, sank her teeth in, and held on tightly. She bit hard, her teeth sharp, and blood immediately flowed. The person burst into tears.

The small group instantly panicked, scrambling to run away.

“Miss Song.” The person in front extended a slender hand and waved it in front of her.

Fu Xin smiled and asked: “Do you remember now?”

Song Zhi glanced from her eyes to her hand and smiled slightly: “I remember.”

The “doll” suddenly let go when the other person was about to hit her head. She spat onto the ground, clearing the blood from her mouth, then carelessly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She lowered her head, her eyes, hidden behind her hair, showing. She said hoarsely: “Thank you.”

Song Zhi looked at her curiously. Her expression was cold, her body rigid, returning Song Zhi’s gaze without moving. Song Zhi finally saw it clearly: there was a small red mole on her eyelid, in the middle of her eye. It was tiny and red, visible only when she blinked, and completely hidden when her eyes were open.

Little Song Zhi looked up into her eyes and thought:

How magical.

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