Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 94

Chapter 94: “Why Did You Abandon Me Again?”

The moment she saw the bare wrist—the moment Anran casually said, “The cord doesn’t match today’s outfit”—the final string inside Jiang Zhi snapped.

Perhaps it didn’t snap “suddenly.” It had been fraying since the start of their conflict: from the increasingly sparse texts and calls, to the frequent mentions of a new friend, to the silent protest of not visiting on Saturday only to realize Anran didn’t even notice.

Too many grievances had accumulated in her heart until she could no longer bear the weight. She finally erupted.

“What did you say?” Anran stood frozen.

Jiang Zhi gritted her teeth, enduring the churning spasms in her stomach. She forced herself to stand up slowly. A heavy silence stretched between them.

Jiang Zhi no longer avoided her gaze. She looked Anran directly in the eyes and held out her hand. “Give it back to me. The hand-cord.”

Anran stared at the palm held out before her. Her chest rose and fell sharply with her ragged breathing, her jaw tight. “Just because I didn’t wear it today, you want to take it back? Do you have any idea what taking it back means? What is going through your head to make you say such a thing?”

She threw out questions one after another, her fury nearly overwhelming.

Jiang Zhi remained silent, but she didn’t retract her hand. Her intent was clear: she wouldn’t leave without it. As the pain in her stomach intensified, cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Her body trembled slightly; she pressed one hand against her abdomen, biting her lip to endure.

Anran’s interrogating words and angry emotions dissolved into worry the moment she saw how pale Jiang Zhi had become. “Fine. I don’t want to fight with you. I’m taking you to the hospital first.”

Anran reached out to support her swaying frame.

Jiang Zhi recoiled sharply, avoiding her touch as if Anran were a venomous beast that would kill her upon contact. Anran’s hand froze in mid-air. For two seconds, the air seemed to stand still.

The temper that had been suppressed by worry flared up once more. “What kind of madness is this? Fine, I don’t care what you’re losing it over. We are going to the hospital first, and we can talk about the rest later, okay?”

Jiang Zhi didn’t say a word. She looked at Anran with cold, distant eyes, as if looking at a stranger.

Anran took a deep breath. “Fine. Fine! Fine!”

Repeating the word three times, Anran turned to her desk. With a loud clatter, she pulled open a drawer and took out a square, palm-sized box. She slammed the box into Jiang Zhi’s hand.

“The cord is inside. It’s back in your hands. Are you satisfied now? Can we go to the hospital?”

Jiang Zhi’s fingers curled tightly around the box until her knuckles turned white. Shaking, she skirted around the woman in front of her and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Anran shouted after her.

Jiang Zhi’s footsteps paused. She didn’t look back. Her voice was incredibly light yet incredibly heavy, thick with a sob: “Let’s… just end this.”

It was a mismatch. She had known they were a mismatch from the very beginning; that incompatibility had simply surfaced again.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the “clack-clack” of high heels sounded on the floor. Anran rushed forward and blocked the door, preventing her from leaving.

“Explain yourself. You demand the cord back, and now you say ‘let’s end this’? What does that mean? You want to break up? You need to give me a reason. What is the point of this sudden performance? You aren’t leaving. Even if you go, you’re going to explain it clearly to me.”

Anran stared at her coldly, her breath uneven with rage.

Jiang Zhi gave a self-mocking smile. Explain it clearly? How? She couldn’t even explain it to herself.

Could she suspect Anran and Chu Yuening of an illicit relationship? That they were in an ambiguous “more-than-friends” stage? Not exactly. Anran was pure and straightforward; she wasn’t the type to two-time anyone.

Could she blame Anran for not prioritizing her sadness and jealousy? That didn’t seem fair either. Anran was a human, not a god; she couldn’t be expected to manage someone else’s emotions every second of the day.

Could she blame Anran for no longer anticipating their Saturday meetings? For not being urgent about ending the long distance? For listening to Chu Yuening and not wearing the cord today?

What exactly was to blame?

The reasons she could list were all trivial—tiny, microscopic things that shouldn’t cause a relationship to collapse. But these tiny things eventually culminated in one truth.

That truth was: Anran doesn’t need me as much anymore.

That passionate love had faded. The fact that Little Kitten no longer desperately needed Jiang Yi was something Jiang Zhi could not accept.

Her stomach cramped again, and the urge to vomit resurfaced. She knew she must look pathetic—covered in sweat, face deathly pale. She was already a mess; she must look even worse now. She hated confronting Anran in this state; it made her look so pitiable.

“You won’t even give me a reason?” Anran looked her straight in the eye.

“I’ve always been like this. Irrational, cowardly, and useless. Didn’t you know that long ago?” Tears welled in Jiang Zhi’s eyes.

“So that’s your reason?”

Jiang Zhi said nothing.

Anran waited for a long time. When no answer came, she let out a cold laugh and threw the door open wide. “Fine! Then go. Go, and don’t come back.”

Jiang Zhi gave her one long, deep look. Then, she lowered her head and walked out.

Behind her, the door was slammed shut with a deafening bang.

Jiang Zhi’s footsteps were unsteady. She bit her lower lip until it turned white. Suddenly, the door that had been slammed shut was flung open again.

“Jiang Zhi! I’m saying this for the last time. If you leave now, we are truly finished. I don’t have to have you. I’m not so pathetic that I’ll let you abandon me a third time!”

Jiang Zhi’s figure went still.

Anran stared at her thin back, her eyes filled with a desperate hope. But that hope ultimately fell through. Jiang Zhi did not turn around. She kept walking, further and further, until she disappeared around the corner of the elevator.

Anran stood there, her hands clenched into tight fists. Anger and humiliation surged in her heart simultaneously.

It was always like this. She was always the one waiting for her to come back, waiting for her to turn around. But Jiang Zhi had never once come back on her own initiative. She had never once turned back.

On what grounds? Why did she have to be the one waiting? Why was she always hoping for a turnaround?

Never again.

Anran used all her strength to slam the office door. The force was so great that the entire door frame seemed to shudder, sending a vibration through the floor.

She walked fuming to the coffee table. With a sweep of her hand, she sent the cake crashing to the floor. Without a single backward glance, she sat at her desk, opened her files, and went back to work.

She worked with cold efficiency. All her emotions seemed to have leveled out—except for the fact that she was hitting the keys harder than usual, and the fact that she tore the paper several times while signing with her fountain pen.

She worked for hours until her task list was cleared. Only then did she let out a long breath. She looked out the window. The sky had long since turned black. The neon lights of distant skyscrapers flickered. Anran leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the lights, lost in thought.

Her gaze slowly drifted down, landing on the cake on the floor.

It sat there, lonely and ruined. She still remembered the taste—peach, soft, melting in her mouth. She stared at it for a long time.

Anran tiredly rubbed the space between her brows and pulled her gaze away.

Five minutes later, she picked the cake up. It was smashed and misshapen; most of it was dirty and inedible. Anran picked out a single clean piece and stuffed it into her mouth.

She remembered it being delicious. But now, it tasted bitter—so bitter her tongue felt numb. Is it spoiled? Did it pick up something from the floor? But she had clearly picked a clean piece—the only clean piece left.

How could something so delicious turn so bitter?

Tears splashed onto the cake. Once one tear fell, the rest became uncontrollable. A flood of tears poured from her eyes, drowning the cake in her hand. She sobbed and ate at the same time, looking like a child who had been deeply wronged.

Creak—

The office door was pushed open.

Anran hurriedly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and barked out fiercely, “Who told you you could come in? Get out!”

The newcomer wore a simple qipao, her long hair pinned up with a jade hairpin. Her face was gentle and serene. Faced with Anran’s hostility, Lin Yishu didn’t react. She walked straight in.

“Do you have any idea what time it is? Still working overtime at the office… you’ve really caught our eldest sister’s disease. Soaking in the office every day and never going home.”

“Honestly, you should just swap for a different second sister. I’m exhausted. Every day I have to come here to drag you home, then go drag Big Sister home. Can’t you two give me a break?”

“Are you trying to end up in the hospital again from lack of rest? Believe it or not, I’ll go tell your wife. I can’t control you, but I don’t believe your wife can’t.”

Lin Yishu kept chattering as she approached. Only when she got close did she see Anran’s current state.

Her mouth was stuffed with cake, cream was smeared on her lips, her eyes were flooded with tears, and her nose was red from crying. She looked like a pitiful, abandoned kitten.

Yishu froze. She quickly sat beside her, turned Anran’s face toward her, and grabbed a tissue to wipe the tears. “What’s wrong? Oh, look at you… don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re going to break your second sister’s heart.”

Anran pushed her hand away and kept eating the cake.

Yishu tried to stop her. “Did this cake fall on the floor? It’s dirty! Why are you eating it? Have you lost your mind from working too much?”

Anran didn’t listen. She kept stuffing cake into her mouth, eating and crying simultaneously.

“In one more week… I’ll be finished with this project,” Anran sobbed, her words broken and full of grievance. “I… I’ll have saved enough money then.”

“If you’re short on money, tell me! I’ll give it to you. You don’t have to push yourself like this for money,” Yishu said, her heart aching.

“I don’t want other people’s money. I want to earn it myself. I want to buy Jiang Yi a big courtyard where she can film her videos easily. I’ve already picked out the house. I just need the final payment from this project to buy it.”

“I work from morning till night… I was so close to buying it. We wouldn’t have had to be apart anymore. But… Jiang Yi abandoned me again…”

She spoke between gasps and sobs, sounding utterly lost and wronged. Her tears fell like pearls from a broken string, one after another.

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