Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 61

Chapter 61: “She Dared Not Look Into Her Eyes.”

“Not going to order?” Lin Han’s cool voice drifted from across the table.

Jiang Zhi stared at the menu, which lacked Chinese annotations. She remained silent for a moment before closing it. “I don’t understand French.”

Lin Han looked as if she had just realized her mistake. “I was inconsiderate.”

Lin Han raised her hand and signaled the waiter. In fluent French, she conversed with him and ordered a cup of coffee for Jiang Zhi.

“Since you don’t know French, are you aware that Anran speaks five languages?” Lin Han mentioned casually.

Jiang Zhi’s lips parted, but for a moment, she couldn’t find an answer.

Lin Han’s light remark carried a heavy weight. It was as if she were saying: See? You can’t even order from a French menu. Your levels of knowledge are on completely different planes. How can you live together? Do you have a common language? Are you even the same kind of person?

Lin Han said nothing, yet she said everything. A “soft knife” cuts deepest—this was far more lethal than hysterical insults.

Jiang Zhi admitted to herself that when she closed the menu, a sense of inferiority had bubbled up. It was subtle, but unavoidable. Perhaps that was the very purpose of Lin Han choosing this café: to stir up her insecurity. Lin Han wanted to prove, in the simplest and most direct way possible, that she and Lin Anran were not a match.

Jiang Zhi’s hands, resting on her knees, slowly clenched into fists. She summoned her courage and looked up.

“I admit I have many flaws. In a crowd, I’m just the average, unremarkable one. It might seem childish to promise you things like ‘love’ and ‘affection,’ but I still want to say, if you could give me some time, I could…”

Clink.

Lin Han dropped her spoon back into the coffee cup, the sound sharp and abrupt, cutting Jiang Zhi off.

“You could work hard, strive to build a career, and try your best to be worthy of Anran?” Lin Han finished the sentence for her. “But how will you work hard? Relying on your 8,000-yuan monthly salary at the magazine? Or your 20-yuan hourly part-time job at the convenience store? Or maybe your ‘entrepreneurial’ venture as a food blogger?”

The courage Jiang Zhi had gathered vanished instantly. The reality presented was too cruel; her promises weren’t promises at all—they sounded like a joke.

Lin Han picked up her cup and took a sip. “No matter how much time I give you, you won’t even reach what I consider a qualified starting point, let alone the finish line. Even if—and this is a massive ‘if’—you could earn money and achieve financial freedom, so what? The one thing the Lin family doesn’t lack is money.”

Jiang Zhi was speechless. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come. She shouldn’t have hoped for Lin Han’s approval; it was an impossibility. This was pure self-humiliation.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Zhi said, lowering her head. “I know we aren’t from the same world. She is a presence I couldn’t reach even if I stood on my tiptoes. I’ve tried giving up before…” But in the end, she couldn’t bear to let go.

Jiang Zhi took a deep breath and looked up. “I promised her that I wouldn’t leave because of your opposition.”

Lin Han: “Miss Jiang, you seem like a realist. Surely you don’t actually believe that ‘love can overcome ten thousand difficulties’?”

Jiang Zhi shrugged. “Maybe it can.”

Lin Han smiled. It looked like a mockery, yet it didn’t. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. Facing such an imposing figure in prolonged silence made it difficult for Jiang Zhi to breathe.

“If you have nothing else to say, I’ll be going,” Jiang Zhi said, standing up to leave.

“My disapproval means that Anran will lose her current living conditions. Everything will be taken back. Do you have the heart to watch her suffer?” Lin Han spoke calmly.

Jiang Zhi froze. Her expression gradually became resolute. “I love her very much. I can give her plenty of love and companionship. I won’t try to control her like you do. The environment might be much worse, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it will be ‘bitter’.”

Lin Han’s tapping finger stopped. Her sharp gaze fixed on Jiang Zhi. “Is that so? It sounds quite reasonable. But didn’t you make a similar decision when you were a child? Do you need me to help you remember?”

“When your grandmother took you away from your parents at age seven, she asked you whether you wanted love or a wealthy environment. You chose the former without hesitation. In the end, were you satisfied with that love? How did you treat your grandmother in the end?” Lin Han’s gaze shifted downward, landing on the red string around Jiang Zhi’s wrist.

Jiang Zhi’s brain felt like it exploded. She suddenly lost the ability to speak. Her lips trembled, and her wrist felt as if it were being painfully constricted by an invisible force, the ache reaching her very bones.

“Does Little Zhizhi really want to go with Grandma?” Her grandmother had knelt before her, stroking her head affectionately.

Young Jiang Zhi had nodded vigorously. As a child, her emotions were sharp and pure. She could feel that her parents didn’t like her; they only had eyes for her younger brother. She didn’t feel like a member of the family, but an intruder.

But Grandma was different. Grandma cherished her. Grandma loved her. She and Grandma were the real family. She wanted to leave that home where she was treated as nothing. Staying meant endless grievances; going with Grandma meant receiving the love and companionship she lacked.

“If you come with me, there won’t be a big house to live in.”

“I don’t need a big house.”

“There won’t be so many pretty dresses to wear.”

“I don’t need dresses.”

“Life in the countryside will be very hard.”

Little Jiang Zhi had hugged her grandmother, pleading, “I love Grandma best. Please take me with you, Grandma, please.”

Little Jiang Zhi got her wish. She left a wealthy but indifferent home for a poor but loving one. Her grandmother’s love never changed; from age seven to eighteen, she gave Jiang Zhi the best of everything she could offer.

But years later, as she grew up, Jiang Zhi failed to become the person she was supposed to be. She began to scream and protest against her grandmother’s shabbiness and their poverty. she even regretted giving up her city life. Love couldn’t quench her thirst; she needed money—lots of it—to reclaim her self-esteem.

So, Jiang Zhi had thrown away the sweater her grandmother had stayed up late to knit with her failing eyesight. To this day, Jiang Zhi remembered her grandmother’s downcast eyes and the way her face seemed to age a decade in an instant.

Lin Han stood up and walked over, lightly patting Jiang Zhi’s shoulder. “Since you yourself couldn’t manage to choose ‘love over money,’ why drag Anran into the same predicament?”

“Aren’t you afraid that one day Anran will blame you? That she will question you just as you questioned your grandmother? Aren’t you afraid?”

The voice boomed in her ears. Jiang Zhi staggered, nearly losing her footing.

Lin Han had already left, but Jiang Zhi remained rooted to the spot, unable to move for a long time. Her body trembled, and she struggled to catch her breath. Lin Han was truly a successful merchant; she understood the human heart and knew exactly how to strike a fatal blow with minimal effort.

What was Jiang Zhi most afraid of? It was the guilt over her youthful ignorance. And Lin Han had dragged that secret fear out, placed it under a microscope, and asked her if she was afraid.

Of course she was. It was the deepest, most agonizing pain in her soul.

She didn’t know how she left the café. Her feet felt heavy as she walked aimlessly. Jiang Zhi looked up at the sky; the sun was blinding and dizzying. Even in the sunlight, she felt as if she were in total darkness, unable to glimpse a shred of light no matter how hard she tried.

Her breathing became rapid, and cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she collapsed onto a roadside flowerbed. She breathed deeply, thumping her chest, trying to relieve the pressure in her heart.

A passerby noticed her state and approached with concern. “Little girl, you look very pale. Are you okay? Do you want me to call an ambulance?”

Jiang Zhi forced a smile. “I’m fine, thank you.” The passerby hesitated but eventually left, looking back several times.

Slowly, Jiang Zhi adjusted her emotions until she could breathe again. She stared blankly at the passing traffic, her mind empty.

The phone in her pocket had been vibrating continuously. She pulled it out and looked at the barrage of messages from Lin Anran.

“Where are you?”

“Why aren’t you answering? Pick up.”

“Are you crazy? Where did you go? If you don’t reply now, don’t bother coming back! Get lost! Get lost!”

“Did you go to see my sister!?”

“PICK UP THE PHONE!!!”

Jiang Zhi swiped through the messages. Halfway through, the incoming call screen popped up. Her finger froze. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and patted her face to ensure she sounded normal before answering.

As soon as the call connected, she heard Lin Anran’s familiar, boisterous voice.

“Jiang Zhi! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve called? Why aren’t you answering? Is that phone a decoration? Why take it if you won’t pick up?!”

“Where are you? I’m asking where you are! Why aren’t you saying anything? Is that traffic? Are you on the street?”

Jiang Zhi exhaled, making her voice sound as natural as possible. “Yeah, on the street. Taking a walk.”

Lin Anran: “A walk? Are you insane? Wait… your voice sounds weird. Are you crying?”

Jiang Zhi twitched her lips. Her voice should have sounded normal; how did she hear the tears? “I’m not crying. What are you thinking?”

“Don’t lie! Why did you go see my sister? You can’t out-talk her! She’ll bully you! You knew she’d bully you and you still went? Are you stupid? I called you a pig but you really are as dumb as one!”

After the frantic outburst, Lin Anran gritted her teeth. “Where are you? Give me your location. I’m coming to find you.”

Jiang Zhi: “No need. I’m just wandering. I’ll be back soon.”

Lin Anran sounded like she was grinding her teeth. “Address. Now!”

Unable to win the argument, Jiang Zhi gave her the address. Half an hour later, a familiar figure appeared across the street. The “little kitty” rushed toward her, fuming and scolding her for a long time.

But the hand clutching Jiang Zhi’s clothes was visibly shaking.

The kitty was afraid. Afraid that Jiang Zhi would back down, leave, or give up halfway. Jiang Zhi should have given her words of comfort and assurance, but this time, she dared not look into her eyes.

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