Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 68

Chapter 68: “I Called Her.”

Outside the small log cabin, the winter wind howled, making the doors and windows creak and groan. Inside, the firewood crackled in the hearth, dispelling the severe cold and making the room cozy and warm.

Jiang Zhi sat by the fire, the light reflecting off her black-rimmed glasses and illuminating her clean, scholarly face. She stared blankly at the rising flames, letting time slip away.

She took out her phone, opened the browser, and habitually typed three characters into the search bar.

She had typed these three characters countless times, but she never pressed the search button. It was merely a ritual of habit.

Today was no different. After typing the name, she stared at the search bar for a long while before moving to exit.

Pop!

A burning piece of wood suddenly exploded with a sharp crack.

Jiang Zhi’s shoulders jerked in a startle. Her phone slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the floor.

She hissed in pain and quickly picked it up, checking immediately to see if the screen was cracked.

Her gaze froze on the screen. Not because it was broken, but because…

In the fall, her finger had accidentally brushed the search button. The search results for “Lin Anran” had already popped up.

She should have exited immediately, but her hands felt leaden and stiff. She should have closed her eyes, but they seemed to have a mind of their own, unable to look away.

She wanted to know about her so badly. No matter how much she restrained herself, there was always a moment where control slipped. Like now—she stared at the screen without blinking.

However, as she looked closer, she realized that none of the information she actually craved was there.

There was almost nothing about Lin Anran on the internet. She wasn’t a celebrity. Although she came from a noble background and an illustrious family, she was rarely exposed to the public eye online.

The only information available was her official encyclopedic entry.

Name: Lin Anran.

Gender: Female.

Third Miss of the Lin Group.

Education: Graduated from XX International Finance College, majoring in Finance and Business Administration.

Languages: Proficient in five languages…

It was a very official, cold introduction. There wasn’t even a photo.

The entry described “Lin Anran,” yet it felt worlds away from the Lin Anran Jiang Zhi knew.

Jiang Zhi read the cold text over and over. Over and over, she felt the reality that she was no longer connected to Lin Anran. Lin Anran was just cold data on a phone, a distant existence.

Eventually, her eyes began to sting.

She closed her eyes to rest, her expression remaining unchanged. She set the phone down as if everything were normal and added another log to the fire. She went back to staring at the flickering flames.

It’s for the best…

It was for the best that Lin Anran wasn’t a celebrity. It was for the best that there was no news about her online. If she couldn’t find out anything, her heart wouldn’t be thrown into turmoil.

In her complicated heart, she didn’t know if she felt relief or disappointment.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of fireworks echoed outside.

Jiang Zhi paused. In this remote mountain village with only a few elderly residents, who would be setting off fireworks?

She pushed the door open. The cold wind hit her face, making her reflexively tuck her neck into her collar.

It was 6:00 PM. The sun was setting, and the sky was in that state between light and dark.

At a wooden house some distance away, someone was holding hand-held fireworks. The sounds of adults, children, and elderly people chatting and laughing reached her ears.

The usually silent village had become rare and lively because of the commotion.

Usually, there were only old people. Why was it… Jiang Zhi suddenly realized. It was almost the New Year.

Another New Year.

She checked her phone: December 28th. New Year’s Eve was only two days away.

Jiang Zhi had been living in a blur, losing track of time. If it weren’t for the children across the way and the young people returning home for the holidays, she wouldn’t have realized the New Year was so close.

Time moved so fast. In the blink of an eye, another year was coming to a close.

She watched the lively scene for a while, then lowered her eyes, closed the door, and returned to the fire.

The fire was warm, but a chill kept rising from her body that she couldn’t shake.

She wondered: how should she spend the New Year this year? How did she spend it last year?

She couldn’t remember. There seemed to be no significant memories.

The only New Years she remembered were the ones when her grandmother was still alive, and the one where Lin Anran suddenly appeared while she was choking on dry bread, feeling sorry for her being all alone.

The New Year she spent with Lin Anran felt like it was two years ago.

She suddenly felt unsure. she began to flip through the calendar, counting the time. Mid-way through, she stopped, sighed, and mocked herself: “What am I doing?”

She didn’t know what she was doing or what she wanted. She often did these meaningless things.

Whether it had been one year, two years, or three since they parted—did it make a difference? Either way, Lin Anran wouldn’t be there for any of the years to come.

That night, she suffered from insomnia again. Her mind was blank, but she just couldn’t sleep. If this continued, would she have to see a doctor for sleeping pills?

After some thought, she decided against the doctor. Doctors were too expensive. She’d just endure it. If she worked harder and got tired, she wouldn’t have insomnia.

Jiang Zhi still couldn’t change her stingy nature. She saved every penny she could.

This stingy person decided to have a bit more “ritual” for the Spring Festival this year. Always being dismissive of it felt a bit too desolate. There was no need to make herself so pitiable. She had food, water, and warmth; what was there to pity?

She hopped on her bicycle and rode to the small town to buy New Year’s goods.

The town wasn’t prosperous. There were no skyscrapers, mostly two or three-story self-built houses. The difference from the village was a reasonably wide road and a medium-sized supermarket.

Jiang Zhi carried a basket through the supermarket. She bought a pair of Spring Festival couplets and some snacks. She had vegetables in her garden, so she was mainly there for meat.

Passing the fresh food section, a package of pre-cut duck meat made her pause.

Lin Anran loved Beer Duck.

She wondered if she still liked it. Anran used to love instant noodles and instant coffee, but she got tired of them quickly and never touched them again. She didn’t know if, after all this time, she still liked Beer Duck.

Jiang Zhi shook her head. Why am I thinking about this again?

She put the duck into her basket and bought the side ingredients needed for the dish. After thirty minutes, she went to check out.

Perhaps because she had stayed in the countryside for too long, she had become remarkably free of desires. She had lost interest in everything.

She could wander the supermarket for half a day and not know what to buy. Aside from the slightly expensive duck, she spent less than 50 yuan. She was living a bland, watery life.

Coming out of the supermarket with her bag of food, she saw an electric scooter pass by. Two girls were on it. The one in front wore a black helmet; the one in the back wore a pink helmet.

The two were chatting about something, laughing “Hahaha” together.

As the scooter passed, Jiang Zhi’s eyes followed them until they turned a corner and vanished.

Her heart felt like it had been pricked.

Did it hurt? She couldn’t tell anymore. She was already numb.

Does time really heal everything? Jiang Zhi began to doubt this idea. Even after so much time, it seemed very little had changed.

Every day she’d unconsciously type her name into her phone. She’d think of her when she saw duck meat or instant coffee. She’d think of her when she saw someone in a pink helmet.

Perhaps “love” was something people like her shouldn’t even try. She didn’t want to cry every day, but she didn’t want to laugh either. The sky wouldn’t turn black, but it didn’t seem like it would ever get light again.

Her falling in love really was… a disaster for everyone involved.

“Meow.”

A cat’s cry came from a nearby bush. Jiang Zhi looked over.

A wet little head poked out—a tiny kitten, likely not even weaned. It had heavy black tear stains, was skinny and small, and its fur was sparse.

In two words: very ugly.

Probably due to the cold, it was shivering constantly.

Jiang Zhi looked at the sky. The weather forecast said a heavy snow was coming in two days. She looked back at the kitten. In its current state, it might not even survive without snow. Once the snow fell, it would have no way to live.

Jiang Zhi shook her head. Forget it. I’m living in a blur and drifting about myself; how can I keep a pet? I can’t.

“Meow,” the kitten cried again, looking at her pitifully.

Jiang Zhi’s gaze was cold and devoid of sympathy. She turned and walked away.

One hour later, Jiang Zhi returned to the cabin. Besides the New Year’s goods, she had brought back… a cat.

How did I end up bringing it back?

Jiang Zhi sighed and knelt down, poking its head with her finger. “I’m a very stingy person. Extremely cheap and I hold grudges. You’re going to cost me a lot of energy and time, so you have to work to pay off your debt.”

The debt, of course, was catching mice. Mice were unavoidable in the country, though in its current tiny state, it probably couldn’t catch anything.

If it couldn’t catch mice, it could be used for filming videos. The kitten could be the mascot.

Strangely enough, the first video featuring the kitten was a minor hit. Usually, her videos got around 10,000 likes; the one with the kitten got five or six times that.

As expected, everyone loved small animals.

Jiang Zhi opened a can of food for it as a reward. “From now on, your name is Lucky Cat. Lucky~”

A tacky name.

On New Year’s Eve, she remarkably didn’t feel lonely. The cat rubbed against her legs.

Jiang Zhi said to the cat, “Happy New Year.”

Then she looked up at the crescent moon and said to the other kitten far away, “Happy New Year.”

Even if that kitten couldn’t hear her.

Her video account traffic got better and better. Several media and entertainment companies reached out to sign her, but Jiang Zhi never replied.

Firstly, the waters of talent contracts were too deep, and she feared falling into a trap. Secondly, and most importantly: she didn’t have the courage to leave this place, even briefly, to discuss a contract.

She had trapped herself in this mountain village, as if she could never get out again.

The cat grew day by day. Its sparse fur became thick. She couldn’t tell if the breed was just fierce or if Lucky simply had a bad temper, but it was prone to biting and scratching.

Its personality was actually quite like Lin Anran’s.

When Jiang Zhi tried to hold it, it refused and gave her a swipe of its paw. It didn’t use force or draw blood, it just expressed its dissatisfaction before flicking its tail and jumping onto the roof.

I take it back. It’s nothing like Lin Anran. She was so clingy; this cat is never home, and when it does come back, it won’t let me hold it.

Jiang Zhi sat idly in her rocking chair, soaking up the sun, rocking back and forth quite leisurely.

It would be even better if she could quit reaching for her phone and unconsciously searching for a certain “kitten’s” name. Even though she knew there would be no news, she still searched from time to time.

She thought this time would be the same as before—nothing but an official biography entry. Because she knew she wouldn’t find anything, she allowed herself to search every day.

However, unexpectedly…

The rocking chair stopped.

Lucky, perched on the roof, tilted its head and looked at the “two-legged beast” below in confusion.

The human, clutching the phone, suddenly stood up from the chair, a look of terror and fear on her face.

Lucky keenly sensed her unease. Shedding its usual coldness, it jumped down and rubbed against her ankles.

Jiang Zhi didn’t notice the cat. Her hand holding the phone was shaking slightly, and her breathing became shallow and difficult.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

After two years, her hand trembling, she dialed the number burned into her memory for the first time.

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