Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 81

Chapter 81: “Who Am I To You?”

The sunlight was perfect. Lin Anran stood on the opposite side of the road, leaning gracefully by the bus stop as the traffic surged between them.

She waved. The gentle breeze played with her long hair—it was the most beautiful scene of early summer. It was hard to tell if the sunlight favored her, or if Jiang Zhi was the one doing the favoring, but every ray of light seemed to settle exclusively on her. The surroundings were a blur of grey, leaving only her, radiant and glowing.

Jiang Zhi could feel her heart acting up again, completely out of her control.

The light turned green. Following the crowd, Jiang Zhi walked across the crosswalk, moving toward the source of her racing pulse. With every step, her heart beat faster, thumping against her ribs. Even though she was just crossing a street, sweat broke out on her forehead. She wiped it away and, in the same motion, tugged at her white T-shirt.

She wanted to look as neat as possible, hoping not to appear too pathetic. She had left in a hurry, frantic to find the hand-cord, and hadn’t thought about her appearance. After rushing to leave Zhaocai with Grandma Li, she had arrived in a plain T-shirt, jeans, and canvas shoes. The collar of the cheap T-shirt was wrinkled from too many washes, and there was a black footprint on her shoe—someone on the train had stepped on her.

She hadn’t wanted to appear before Lin Anran looking so disheveled, but here she was. She stopped about five meters away, took a deep breath, and finally forced herself to close the gap. She didn’t dare get too close, stopping a full meter short.

Watching the distance Jiang Zhi kept between them, the faint smile on Anran’s lips dimmed. A flash of anger flickered in her eyes, but she quickly suppressed it.

Patience, patience, just a little more patience… Anran chanted internally.

She reached into her pocket, extended a closed fist toward Jiang Zhi, and then opened it. A plain red hand-cord lay in the center of her fair, slender palm.

Jiang Zhi’s gaze fell on the cord; her eyelashes trembled. The way Anran held it out reminded Jiang Zhi of two years ago, before they had even defined their relationship. Back then, when Jiang Zhi was still running away from her feelings, she had lost the cord once before.

The cord had fallen into a park pond. Lin Anran had hired people to drain the pond, ignored the mud staining her clothes, and disregarded the winter cold to dig through the muck with her bare hands. When she found it, her hair and face were streaked with mud, but she didn’t care. She had held it up, beaming with joy, and shouted, “I found it!”

Jiang Zhi had never forgotten that moment—the heart-stopping emotion of it. But sometimes, out of cowardice, she had deliberately avoided remembering. Now, that memory and the present moment felt infinitely close, overlapping perfectly.

Lin Anran had found her cord twice. This was her brave, wordless second attempt to make her stay.

Jiang Zhi’s eyes welled up. She fought the tears, determined not to cry in front of her.

“Thank you.” Jiang Zhi reached out to take the cord.

Before she could touch it, Anran’s palm snapped shut into a fist and pulled back. Jiang Zhi’s hand grasped empty air. She looked up, confused. Anran arched a mischievous eyebrow.

“What evidence do you have that this is yours? I can’t just hand things over to strangers.”

Jiang Zhi was stunned. Lin Anran stuffed the cord back into her pocket and, without a second glance, turned and walked away. Jiang Zhi stared at her back for two seconds before chasing after her.

“Wait… you aren’t giving it back?”

Anran didn’t look back. “Does it have your name on it? If not, why do you say it’s yours?”

“…”

“Where are you going?” Jiang Zhi asked.

“Where else? To work,” Anran stopped and turned to look at the person following her, who had to brake suddenly to avoid a collision. “I’m busy. Do you think I’m still like I used to be? Just eating, drinking, and playing all day?”

Jiang Zhi stammered, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You didn’t? Really? Don’t you just think I’m a useless person who can only survive on my family’s money?”

Jiang Zhi’s lips moved, but no sound came out. No, I just felt that you are a noble princess who deserves the best in the world. You shouldn’t have to struggle at the bottom with me, worrying about chores and money, or being worn down by life…

But she couldn’t say any of that.

Lin Anran gave a cold snort and kept walking. Jiang Zhi watched her pull away, unsure if she should follow. After a few steps, Anran stopped. Without turning around, she said coldly: “Keep up. If you don’t follow me, you can forget about getting that cord back.”

Jiang Zhi bit her lip, hesitated, and then trotted after her.

Lin Anran walked ahead, and Jiang Zhi followed at a modest distance. In the elevator, it was the same—one in the front, one in the back. Jiang Zhi peeked at the back of the person in front of her. In the small space, the faint scent of peaches drifted. Anran had changed a lot, but this perfume had stayed the same.

The elevator doors opened with a ding. Anran walked out, but Jiang Zhi was lost in thought. Realizing the doors were closing, she panicked and instinctively stuck her arm out to block them.

Thump!

The doors clamped onto her arm. Luckily, the sensor triggered and they reopened. Jiang Zhi hissed, shaking her sore arm. She looked up and met Anran’s gaze; the latter had stopped and was looking back.

Jiang Zhi gave a weak smile. “It’s fine, just a little pinch.”

Anran’s brow furrowed. “Are you a pig? You don’t know how to press the button? You use your hand? Even a three-year-old knows basic safety.”

Jiang Zhi shrugged. Anran pouted, pushed open her office door, and slammed it behind her with a loud bang. The door practically rattled.

Jiang Zhi rubbed her nose, hesitated for two seconds, then pushed the door open and poked her head in. Anran was sitting at her desk, ignoring her. Jiang Zhi tiptoed inside.

Anran flipped through documents, acting as if the person who just entered didn’t exist. Jiang Zhi looked around. The office was decorated in a cold, white, modern style—beautiful, but stiff and chilly. It wasn’t the “pink and soft” style Anran usually liked.

Actually, it wasn’t just the office. Anran’s clothing style had changed too. At the banquet, she wore a formal evening gown; now, she wore a sharp, cold black suit. She felt like a stranger clothed in a familiar skin.

The office was quiet, save for the rustling of paper and the occasional clack-clack of a mouse and keyboard. She was busy. Her brow was knit in genuine concentration—this wasn’t a child playing dress-up; she clearly had a mountain of complex tasks to handle.

Jiang Zhi stood awkwardly by the door. “Um, I…”

“Shut up. You’re noisy,” Anran said.

Jiang Zhi’s lips quivered. She cleared her throat and walked quietly to the sofa, sitting down. The sofa faced the desk directly; every time she looked up, she saw the busy woman.

Perhaps feeling hot, Anran took off her blazer and draped it over her chair. She rolled up her shirt sleeves, revealing a silver watch on her wrist. Every movement exuded a calm elegance. Jiang Zhi couldn’t look away.

Hidden from view, Anran’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly. Jiang Yi, are you dazed?

On the surface, Anran was calm and orderly, but her heart was practically wagging its tail.

Jiang Zhi wanted to keep looking, but she feared her intense gaze would annoy Anran, so she forced herself to look away. With nothing else to do, she noticed some magazines on the coffee table. Most were financial or business titles, which held no interest for her. But tucked among the professional books was a novel with a pink cover.

She picked it up. Dominant, Paranoid Love.

This title…

Suddenly, her hand was empty. Lin Anran had appeared silently beside her and snatched the book away.

“What are you doing? Touching my things without permission! How rude!” Anran hid the novel behind her back, glaring.

Jiang Zhi pulled her hand back awkwardly. “I was just bored, thought I’d read something.”

Anran looked at her with an unfriendly expression.

Jiang Zhi stood up. “Look, just give me the hand-cord back. That way, I won’t have to stay here and annoy you.”

Anran gave a cold laugh, lifting her chin. “I’m not giving it back. Go call the police.”

Jiang Zhi froze, feeling both amused and helpless. Anran ignored her, taking the novel back to her desk and resuming her work. However, she was clearly distracted now, frequently glancing at the woman on the sofa.

“Can I look at my phone?” Jiang Zhi asked, truly bored.

“No,” Anran snapped.

“If I can’t look at my phone, what should I look at?”

“Look at me! You were already doing it secretly,” Anran’s eyes narrowed. “But tell me… in what capacity are you staring at me?”

Jiang Zhi’s expression faltered. Her hands, resting on her knees, unconsciously gripped the fabric of her jeans. She didn’t answer, staring instead at the black footprint on her canvas shoe.

Anran let out an ambiguous laugh. “Is it that hard to answer?”

Jiang Zhi looked up. She gathered her courage. The word “girlfriend” was on the tip of her tongue, but at the last second, she took a detour.

“You are… someone very important to me. Very important.”

Jiang Zhi met her eyes. They were still clear, pure, and bright—so bright that Jiang Zhi felt a pang of shame.

Anran replied, “I don’t like that answer. Try again.”

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