Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 71

Chapter 71: “The Boss of ZAR is Lin Anran?”

Across the window, through the glass, their eyes met.

This single look had been two years in the making.

The loud television in the lobby seemed to be muted by an invisible hand; the people passing by seemed to vanish into thin air. The surroundings fell into a dead silence, leaving only the two of them in the world.

A simple exchange of gazes, lasting only a second, yet feeling as distant as a century.

Jiang Zhi snapped out of her trance, and the clamor of the world rushed back in. Her first instinct was to hide. But before she could move, the person outside retracted her gaze first.

Lin Anran acted as if she hadn’t seen Jiang Zhi at all. She ignored her, turned away coldly, and walked off without looking back.

Jiang Zhi remained frozen for a long time, watching that receding back until it disappeared into the crowd, leaving no trace behind. The faint light that had existed in Jiang Zhi’s eyes slowly faded until they were completely dull and grey.

The overhead light in the lobby flickered with a sharp crackle and went out without warning. She was plunged into darkness, out of place amidst the surrounding brightness.

Jiang Zhi sat down slowly, resting her hands on the table. She looked down at the unfinished cup of instant noodles; they were already cold. She picked up the fork, lifted some noodles, and took a bite.

Something fell into the soup, causing a faint ripple. Jiang Zhi quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the bitterness. She chewed the cold noodles bite by bite, swallowing them with difficulty.

It tastes terrible.

Instant noodles were sickening if eaten too much; cold instant noodles were nauseating. Jiang Zhi felt like those cheap noodles—fresh at the first bite, tiring at the second, and disgusting by the third.

Just now… did I make Lin Anran feel disgusted?

Probably. She hadn’t played the part of a “good ex.” She shouldn’t have been greedy for a glimpse of her back, and she shouldn’t have failed to hide in time when Anran turned around.

She was such a failure. She couldn’t do anything right.

Jiang Zhi finished the cold noodles, eating numbly with a blank expression. Suddenly, she felt a wave of regret. If she had known, she never would have come to Mucheng. She should have stayed in the mountain village forever, never coming out.

She wanted to go back immediately, to crawl back into her shell and hide. But no matter how much she wanted to leave, she had to wait until tomorrow.

She opened the ticket app and booked the earliest train for the next morning. Usually the type to compare prices down to the cent, this time she didn’t even look—she didn’t even use a coupon—she just clicked pay.

She wanted to escape this place; she didn’t want to stay a moment longer. The moment the ticket was booked, her frantic heart eased slightly.

Bang!

The door to the hostel lobby was kicked open.

The commotion was so loud that everyone in the lobby turned to look. Even the owner, who was cracking seeds and watching TV, stood up.

“Hey! Easy with the door! You’re gonna break it!”

The newcomer ignored the shouting and strode directly toward the corner—right to where Jiang Zhi was sitting.

Before Jiang Zhi could process what was happening, Lin Anran was standing in front of her, her gaze icy.

Anran had changed a lot. It wasn’t just the clothes or the hair; it was an aura that came from within. She wore a grey blazer over a simple white shirt, with two buttons undone to reveal her collarbone—a look of mature casualness.

Anran had tried changing her style before, but back then it felt like a child playing dress-up in adult clothes. Now, that feeling was gone. This look suited her perfectly; she looked mature, serious, and cold.

The youthful naivety had completely vanished.

Jiang Zhi didn’t know if it was an illusion, but she saw a trace of Lin Han’s shadow in the current Lin Anran.

“In this vast world, we actually crossed paths again,” Lin Anran sneered.

Jiang Zhi’s lips moved, but no sound came out.

A mocking curve appeared at the corner of Anran’s mouth. “Isn’t it a coincidence, Jiang Zhi?”

She spat out the name “Jiang Zhi” through gritted teeth.

Jiang Zhi braced her hands on the table and stood up slowly. Just as she was about to speak, Anran interrupted her.

“I’m not here to reminisce, so don’t give me any pleasantries. Don’t say ‘long time no see’—it would be pathetic,” Anran narrowed her eyes, her gaze sharp. “I’m just curious about one thing.”

Jiang Zhi’s voice was dry. “What do you want to ask?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask why you left without a word two years ago. I’m not curious about your reasons because no matter what they were, they don’t change the facts.”

“Do you know what the facts are? The facts are that you did something but were too afraid to face the consequences. You didn’t even have the courage to say ‘goodbye.’ You just vanished. You’re useless and cowardly.”

Jiang Zhi didn’t speak. She kept her head down, her knuckles turning white from gripping the table. She had no defense, because every word was true.

“Nothing to say?” Anran stared at her.

“I…” Jiang Zhi finally managed a single syllable.

“Fine,” Anran lost her patience. “There’s nothing left for us to say. I’ll act as if I never met you. My past sincerity was just wasted on a dog.”

“From now on—forever—we must never meet again.”

“If you’re unlucky enough to run into me again, please do a better job of hiding. Don’t appear before my eyes like you did today.”

“Since you decided to hide, then hide properly. Hide completely. Don’t be so incompetent that you can’t even manage that.”

Jiang Zhi’s lips trembled, and her face turned deathly pale.

“Do you understand?” Anran asked coldly.

Jiang Zhi wanted to respond, but she couldn’t. It felt like her throat was stuffed with cotton; she couldn’t make a sound.

Anran didn’t seem to care about a response. She turned and walked away with a decisive, graceful stride.

Jiang Zhi’s legs gave out, and she slumped back into her seat. After a long while, she squeezed a voice from her throat.

“I’m sorry…”

I will hide better. I will never, ever appear before you again.

I’m sorry.

Tears fell from her eyes, splashing onto the back of her hand. She wiped them away, but as soon as one was gone, another followed—a broken levee that wouldn’t stop. She took deep breaths, tilting her head back to stop the flow, but it was futile.

The owner, who had been watching TV, walked over at some point. She didn’t ask questions; she just patted Jiang Zhi on the shoulder and handed her two tissues.

Being comforted this way only made Jiang Zhi cry harder, a mix of helplessness and grievance. Everything Anran said was true: she was cowardly, she had left without a word, she hadn’t even said goodbye.

But even though it was the truth, she still felt a sense of grievance.

Why do I feel wronged? Jiang Zhi realized miserably that she didn’t even have the right to feel that way. People who do wrong don’t get to feel wronged. There was no “grievance,” only “deserving it.”

Yet, even knowing she deserved it, if she were sent back two years to choose again, Jiang Zhi knew she would take the same path.

She lay in bed all night, unable to sleep, her pillow soaked with tears. The rain began to fall again—intermittent and endless. Jiang Zhi’s mood was like the rain: gloomy and devoid of light, as if she would never see the dawn again.

Having stayed awake all night, she dragged her exhausted body and red-rimmed eyes to the train station, clutching her luggage. She thought that, in all likelihood, she would never return to this city again.

Never come back.

Standing at the bus stop waiting for a ride to the station, Jiang Zhi was listless. Her bus passed by several times without her noticing. Someone tapped her arm.

Like a soul-less shell, Jiang Zhi slowly looked at the person. A passerby pointed to her pocket. “Your phone has been ringing. I think someone is calling you.”

Jiang Zhi snapped back to reality. Her phone was vibrating and ringing loudly—loud enough for others to hear—yet she hadn’t noticed.

“Thank you,” she muttered, pulling out the phone. The caller ID said “Director Lu.” They had exchanged contacts when she signed with ZAR yesterday.

She pressed answer. Her voice was incredibly raspy.

“Miss Jiang, do you have a cold? Your voice sounds very hoarse,” Director Lu said with concern.

Jiang Zhi forced herself to focus and cleared her throat. “No. Is there something you need?”

“Miss Jiang, I assume you haven’t left Mucheng yet? Our boss has a few more details she’d like to discuss with you personally. Is it convenient for you to come by again?”

Jiang Zhi dithered, unable to concentrate. She didn’t answer for a long time.

“Miss Jiang?”

“Sorry, I was distracted. I haven’t left yet. I understand. I’ll head over now.”

She hung up and sighed. If she had known things would turn out like this, she wouldn’t have come to Mucheng or signed the contract. Whether her career took off no longer interested her; she just wanted to go back and hide.

But it was too late. She was already in Mucheng, and the contract was signed. She would likely have to come here often to handle business. The thought filled her with a sense of dread and repulsion, but she couldn’t afford the breach-of-contract fee. She had to push through.

I’ll just communicate online in the future, she planned. I won’t come here unless absolutely necessary. I can’t handle being here.

Meeting Room.

Jiang Zhi held her teacup, lost in thought. All the contract details had been finalized yesterday; she had no idea what the boss wanted to discuss.

She rubbed her brow tiredly. After waiting thirty minutes with no sign of the boss, her anxiety turned into irritation. Losing her patience, she stood up to leave.

Just as she took a step, the door opened.

“Is Miss Jiang in such a hurry? It’s only been thirty minutes.”

The familiar voice made Jiang Zhi’s body freeze.

Lin Anran stood at the door, dressed in a light-colored business suit, looking noble and cold.

Jiang Zhi’s brain felt like it was buzzing.

The boss of ZAR… was Lin Anran?

Support