Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 87

Chapter 87: “Don’t Cry, Don’t Cry, It’s My Fault…”

“Why are you wearing my clothes?” Lin Anran asked, her sharp eyes spotting something amiss.

Jiang Zhi was currently wearing a white chiffon high-neck blouse. The design was intricate and frilly, a style Jiang Zhi usually avoided in favor of simple, inconspicuous items. Clearly, this wasn’t her own.

“Take a guess,” Jiang Zhi said, tugging at the high collar that covered her neck.

Anran’s eyebrows shot up as realization dawned on her.

“You have the nerve to ask?” Jiang Zhi grumbled. “You nibbled on my neck and shoulders until they were covered in marks. I didn’t bring a change of clothes, so whose was I supposed to wear but yours?” Fortunately, their frames were similar, though the proportions were slightly off; what was a long-cut blouse on Anran became a crop top on Jiang Zhi.

“Who nibbled on you? Do you have evidence?” Anran asked, acting entirely unbothered and fearless.

Jiang Zhi choked on her response. Anran raised her eyebrows triumphantly.

While Jiang Zhi had to use a high collar to hide the evidence, Anran’s neck remained snow-white and clean, without a single mark. Even in the heat of the moment, Jiang Zhi had been extremely disciplined, never leaving marks in visible places for fear of making things difficult for Anran the next day.

But Anran was different. she didn’t care about “the next day.” She wanted to leave a hundred markers on Jiang Zhi—marking every inch possible, as if doing so would make the person truly hers.

“Alright, I’m done bickering. We need to go. The flight is at 11:00, and it’s an hour’s drive to the airport. If we’re any later, we’ll miss it.”

Jiang Zhi continued, “I’ve already packed your luggage and left it at the front desk. We’ll grab it on the way down.”

Anran put her hands on her hips. “How rude! How can you pack my bags without my permission?”

Jiang Zhi gave her a light pat on the head. “Stop being extra. I called you rude a few times, so now you have to say it back? You just love making trouble.”

“Hmph,” Anran pouted.

As they spoke, Anran looked at her own hand, then at Jiang Zhi’s hand. The hint was incredibly obvious. Translated: Hold my hand.

Jiang Zhi cleared her throat. “We’re still in the office. Your employees are watching. We’ll hold hands once we’re outside.”

Anran: “So? I’m the boss. Since when do I care if the staff has opinions on my love life?”

Helpless, Jiang Zhi gave in and took her hand. “Fine, we’re holding hands.”

Anran tilted her chin up. “Holding hands? I don’t even like it.”

“I want to. I’m the one who wants to hold hands,” Jiang Zhi said, playing along perfectly.

“You’re being far too clingy. People in a relationship need space. Holding hands like this all the time… what’s that about?” Anran lectured.

Jiang Zhi found it hilarious. Give this girl a ladder and she’d climb to heaven; give her an inch and she’d take a mile. Looking at Anran’s tsundere expression, Jiang Zhi found her so cute she felt her heart melting. She couldn’t resist reaching out to pinch Anran’s cheek. “How are you this cute?”

Anran frowned. “I am a cold, aloof CEO type.”

Jiang Zhi couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t think I’m a cold, aloof CEO?”

“Yes, you are. You absolutely are. If you say you are, then you are.”

“Shut up.”

They walked through the hallway hand-in-hand, chatting and laughing. They passed the workspace, and employees occasionally cast curious glances their way. Several times, Jiang Zhi wanted to pull her hand back, but seeing Anran’s calm and natural demeanor, she forced herself to tuck away her cowardice.

Anran is being so brave; I can’t fall behind.

Jiang Zhi tightened her grip. She wouldn’t run away or let go of this hand because of anything ever again. From now on, every day would be like this—holding on tight. Sensing the squeeze, Anran glanced sideways at her. Jiang Zhi gave her a shallow, tender smile, and Anran’s lips reflexively curled into a grin.

Getting back to the small mountain village required a flight, followed by a bus, and finally, a bicycle ride. The village where Jiang Zhi grew up was extremely remote.

Jiang Zhi expected the “Third Miss” to lose her temper or complain about the exhausting journey. To her surprise, Anran was quite well-behaved. She didn’t say she was tired or act disgusted by the surroundings; she actually seemed excited.

“Cow! Look, there’s a really ugly cow over there,” Anran pointed to a distant field.

A large black ox was grazing, its tail swishing back and forth. Hearing Anran’s shout, the ox lifted its head and let out a huff through its nose.

“Whoa, does this ugly cow understand human speech? Does it not like me calling it ugly? But it is ugly. Why can’t it handle the truth?”

Jiang Zhi pulled the energetic woman back and wiped the sweat from her brow with a tissue. “Are you really not tired?”

“Not at all.” Anran looked at her, her eyes bright and reflecting only Jiang Zhi.

Jiang Zhi sighed. “Not tired? Look at all this sweat. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have brought you. This place is so far and remote…”

Before she could finish, she got a kick. “There you go with the nonsense again. You’re so annoying.”

Jiang Zhi hissed. “Step lighter! I have to ride the bike in a minute. If you break my leg, are you going to peddle? You don’t even know how.”

“Who says I don’t? I’ll ride it then. Big deal.”

“Miss Lin, are you trying to spite me on purpose?”

“You say I’m spiting you? Weren’t you spiting me with that ‘I wouldn’t have brought you’ talk? If you didn’t bring me, who were you planning to bring? You have other girlfriends I don’t know about?”

“No,” Jiang Zhi facepalmed. “I just think this travel is too much work for you.”

Anran: “Shut up. Not a single word out of your mouth is something I want to hear. You’re crazy.”

After her scolding, Anran’s attention went back to the ox. She looked like she wanted to go over and pet it. Jiang Zhi quickly held her back. “It’s dangerous. You can’t go over. It’s someone else’s cow; it doesn’t know you. It might charge at you.”

Anran looked dissatisfied but dropped the idea. She took a few photos, posted them to her “Moments” feed, and then commanded Jiang Zhi to “Like” the post immediately.

Jiang Zhi retrieved her bicycle from a neighbor’s house and wiped the dust off the back seat. “Get on.”

“I thought I was riding.”

“Enough, stop being difficult. Get on quickly. It’ll be dark soon, and country roads are hard to navigate at night.”

“Who’s being difficult? Are you a pig? Pig-brain.”

“Once you’re done cursing, get on.”

Anran huffed and sat sideways on the back seat.

“Hold onto me,” Jiang Zhi reminded her. Anran didn’t move. Jiang Zhi leaned back, grabbed Anran’s hands, and placed them around her waist. “Hold tight.”

Anran muttered an “oh” and then pinched the soft skin at Jiang Zhi’s waist.

Jiang Zhi turned back to glare at her. “Don’t pinch! You don’t know your own strength. It hurts. You’re going to leave a bruise.”

The only response was a “Hmph.”

Jiang Zhi pedaled hard. She wasn’t used to carrying passengers, and the front wheel wobbled as she started.

“What kind of riding is this? You’re scaring me to death!” Anran hugged her waist tightly.

“Quiet.” Jiang Zhi stabilized the bike and began to ride smoothly.

They rode down the narrow country path, flanked by vibrant green rice paddies. A gentle breeze blew, carrying the scent of soil and rice. It was sunset; a streak of crimson remained in the sky, casting a golden glow on the two figures on the bike. The scenery was like a painting.

Jiang Zhi’s hair blew back, tickling Anran’s face. Anran reached out and toyed with a strand.

Then came Jiang Zhi’s mood-killing warning: “Don’t pull. You can pull normally, but I’m ‘driving’ right now. If you pull too hard and I lose focus, we’re falling into the field.”

Anran: “I know.”

Jiang Zhi: “You’d better.”

Anran wrapped her arms around Jiang Zhi’s waist and pressed her face against her back, nuzzling affectionately. “It’s really beautiful here. The place where you grew up.”

Jiang Zhi smiled. “It’s beautiful to visit occasionally, but living here long-term has its downsides. No food delivery, no packages, nothing is convenient, and there are so many mosquitoes.”

Anran: “I don’t care. It’s just good.”

Jiang Zhi inhaled deeply against the wind, feeling cheerful and free. They rode together on the old bike through the peaceful fields, and even the air felt like freedom.

She pressed the brakes and put her feet down, stopping the bike. She pointed to a patch of rice. “That’s my family’s field. Does the rice look good?”

Anran followed her gaze. “The field from your videos? It looks bigger in person.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I was planting and filming at the same time. I was busy from dawn till dusk every day, covered in mud. But hard work pays off—seeing it grow like this gives me a real sense of achievement.”

Anran’s gaze lingered on the field for a moment before she looked back at the person on the front seat.

“It’ll be ready for harvest in a month or two. When it’s ripe, you have to taste it. I grew it myself; it’ll taste different,” Jiang Zhi said with a smile.

Anran didn’t speak; she just watched her quietly.

Jiang Zhi rubbed her nose. “Okay, actually it probably tastes the same. But the meaning is different… You aren’t saying anything, it’s making me awkward.”

Anran: “These past two years… living here alone… was it very hard for you?”

Jiang Zhi’s smile faltered. She turned back to look at her, her lips parting, but the words wouldn’t come.

Was it hard? Not exactly. Planting vegetables, farming, filming—it was all just to find things to keep her busy. So busy she was exhausted, so busy she’d fall asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. It left her with no time or energy to think about anything else.

She had lived like that for two years, never daring to slow down. If Anran hadn’t actively reached out to keep her, she might have continued that life forever, never leaving this place.

Jiang Zhi cupped Anran’s face with both hands. “Wasn’t my ‘hardship’ self-inflicted? Little Kitten should keep punishing me. You shouldn’t feel bad for someone who did wrong.”

“Your hands are rough. It hurts my face.”

Jiang Zhi froze and let go. She looked at her palms; two years of farm work had left several calluses. They were indeed rough.

Anran stroked the calluses on her palm. “They’re so ugly.”

“They are a bit,” Jiang Zhi admitted.

“I don’t like them.”

Jiang Zhi chuckled softly. “Then what should I do…”

She was still smiling, but then she saw Anran’s eyes welling up with tears. Jiang Zhi panicked instantly. “What’s wrong? They’re just some calluses. They don’t hurt. It’s fine, really.”

Anran pouted. “If you wanted to hide, if you wanted to run, you should have at least lived a better life. Why live so miserably? Are you trying to act pitiful? Don’t even think about it—I won’t feel sorry for you.”

Her eyes were red, and tears were on the verge of falling. Jiang Zhi hugged her and stroked her head. “Alright, alright. My fault.”

Anran opened her mouth and bit down on Jiang Zhi’s shoulder. It hurt, but beneath the pain, Jiang Zhi felt Anran’s overwhelming care and heartache. It was deeply moving.

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