The Eldest Lady always wants to have a double O Relationship with her old enemy - Chapter 26

The same place, the same time, still the same five people.

“You’re here, come sit,” Jiang Lan greeted them warmly.

Shen Jianxi sat down as she pleased, with Tang Yanzhao following right after.

“This time everyone eat as much as you want, it’s on me,” Jiang Lan said boldly, waving her hand.

Without a word, Shen Jianxi picked up a freshly grilled skewer of chicken wings and started chewing. Tang Yanzhao, quiet and not fond of talking, stayed reserved. Their odd tension did not escape Ye Tao’s eyes.

But the big-hearted Jiang Lan still asked, “Jianxi, what do you say? Should we have a drink this time?”

“Alcohol’s bad for the body, makes you dizzy. We still have school tomorrow, don’t drink,” Tang Yanzhao cut in before Shen Jianxi could blurt out an eager “yes.”

Lately, Tang Yanzhao had been constantly harassed by people, and just today someone had even treated her like a tool. Who did they think she was? She was Shen Jianxi—no one had ever dared to ignore her like that. She needed somewhere to vent her frustration. But just as she was about to speak, quiet little Zhaozhao interrupted, her words full of concern for her. In that instant, Jianxi suddenly didn’t feel quite so determined anymore.

Jiang Lan chimed in, “You’re right about that. I won’t drink either. I’ve still got to take Fang Xing home later. Otherwise her doctor sister will catch me and give me one of those random lectures again.”

Fang Xing couldn’t help but laugh. “I told her this time before coming out. Besides, I’m doing much better than last time, don’t worry.”

Jiang Lan pouted, “Who really knows?”

Fang Xing’s eyes rippled with laughter.

The awkward, restrained air between Shen Jianxi and Tang Yanzhao didn’t seem so obvious amid the noisy crowd.

At the next table, two girls were nudging each other and whispering. Shen Jianxi caught sight of them as they looked over, and that seemed to give them courage. The two slowly approached with a phone in hand.

“Hi, can we add you on WeChat?”

Shen Jianxi’s lashes flickered. Almost unconsciously, she turned to glance at Tang Yanzhao beside her, only to find Yanzhao’s eyes also fixed on the phone being offered.

Shen Jianxi curved her lips into a light smile, answering brightly, “Sure.”

She pulled out her QR code and held it up. With a “beep,” the two successfully added her. Jianxi even deliberately accepted the request in front of Tang Yanzhao.

“Um…” one of the girls began again.

Shen Jianxi lifted her brows, patient. “Go ahead.”

“My friend wants to add her too—would that be okay?” The girl pointed at the expressionless Tang Yanzhao.

Shen Jianxi’s springlike smile instantly faded. She’d never been good at masking her emotions, her tone stiff: “Ask her yourself.”

Without a second thought, Tang Yanzhao refused coolly, “No.”

The girls had expected rejection, but not such blunt coldness. Their expressions faltered, and pulling each other along, they hurried away—leaving behind their untouched barbecue.

Shen Jianxi bit her lip, suppressing laughter. Once the two left, she finally burst into giggles, tilting her head toward Tang Yanzhao.

Normally, she herself would’ve refused being asked for WeChat. But this time was an exception—she’d wanted to provoke Tang Yanzhao a little, to make that wooden block show some reaction. Who knew? No reaction at all—just a whole jar of jealousy she’d brewed up herself.

But then Yanzhao’s decisive rejection made all that jealousy evaporate in an instant.

Fast to come, fast to go.

And yet something still irked her enough to finish off three skewers of chicken wings in a row: when she herself had been asked for WeChat, Tang Yanzhao hadn’t reacted at all.

She knew Yanzhao never added strangers casually. In this situation, why hadn’t she stepped up to reject them firmly for her? Why just sit there like a good-luck ornament?

The more Jianxi thought about it, the angrier she got. Suddenly she stood, startling Jiang Lan so much that her hand shook, spilling water everywhere while pouring for Fang Xing.

“Jeez,” Jiang Lan clicked her tongue, wiping her hands. “What are you doing, jumping like that? Scared me.”

Jianxi shot Tang Yanzhao a glare and muttered, “Bathroom,” before turning away.

Tang Yanzhao blinked at the glare, baffled. Seeing Jianxi leave, she instinctively rose to follow.

But Ye Tao spoke up to stop her. “She’s just going to the bathroom—why are you following?”

“Exactly,” Jiang Lan added mischievously. “I think Jianxi’s long past the age of needing someone to escort her to the toilet.”

Shen Jianxi’s face darkened. Saying nothing, she strode off.

Ye Tao watched her until she disappeared from sight, then turned to Tang Yanzhao. Yanzhao met her gaze for half a minute before asking, “What is it?”

“What’s your relationship with Jianxi now?”

Tang Yanzhao fell silent, thought for a few seconds, then answered flatly, “Friends.”

Ye Tao smiled faintly. “Just friends?”

“……”

“Then how do you explain that look you gave when Jianxi was asked for WeChat?”

Tang Yanzhao’s eyelids twitched. Her mind replayed the scene.

Her look? She couldn’t remember exactly. But yes, she had kept staring at that phone.

Pressing her lips together, she asked, “Is there a problem?”

She didn’t ask what look, just the outcome.

Ye Tao chuckled. “Problem? That’s for you to figure out. All I know is—we wouldn’t look at someone like that.”

Tang Yanzhao fell silent, lifted her cup, and drank. Winter’s chill seeped into the night, coolness she hoped would calm her swirling thoughts.

But on matters like these, she lacked a certain instinct. Even after a long time, she still couldn’t make sense of Ye Tao’s meaningful smile. The only thing she did know was this: the answer lay with Shen Jianxi.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated against the table. The screen lit with Shen Jianxi’s name. She answered at once.

Jianxi’s voice floated coolly through the night wind: “I shared my location. Come.”

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up. A second later, her real-time location popped up on WeChat.

Tang Yanzhao didn’t hesitate. After briefly excusing herself to the others, she followed the marker.

On Jianxi’s end, the silence was striking—a stark contrast to the lively place Tang Yanzhao had just left. And indeed, when she finally found her, it was just as quiet.

After ten minutes of walking, Tang Yanzhao spotted her sitting on the curb. A lone streetlamp spilled its yellow light onto Jianxi’s hair. Her hands rested on her knees, staring forward without moving. From afar, the scene wrapped her in a faint golden glow, even her shadow drawn tight around her.

At that moment, Tang Yanzhao felt an unfamiliar pang of loneliness radiating from Jianxi. It mirrored her own well-worn solitude so sharply it pierced her chest.

But how could Shen Jianxi ever be lonely?

Taking a deep breath, Yanzhao shook away the illusion and stepped quickly forward, stopping at her side.

Jianxi didn’t look up, just turned her head slightly at the sight of familiar white sneakers, and said flatly, “Sit.”

In front of Shen Jianxi, Tang Yanzhao had one virtue: she would obey without question. So, despite her usual aversion to dirt, she sat right down.

With a stern face, Jianxi shoved a gift box into her hands. “Look.”

“What is it?” Yanzhao asked, weighing it in her palm.

“The gift I promised you. Took some time to make, so I didn’t manage to give it to you when the exam results came out. Just had it delivered.”

Yanzhao unlatched the clasp. With a click, the lid opened. Inside lay a jade safety pendant, glowing faintly green under the dim light.

“I can’t accept this,” she said at once, shutting the box again. It was clearly too valuable.

But Jianxi reopened it herself, lifting out the pendant. A black woven cord dangled from her fingers as she held it between them, the jade swaying gently.

“When I first came back, my mom gave me a piece of jade. At the time, there were still deep misunderstandings between us. But even then, I’d already started preparing this. The exam was just an excuse—because I knew, unlike that little fox plush, you’d think this was too precious. You’d reject it right away. But Zhaozhao, I only want to give you a gift—not for its worth, but for my heart. I just want you safe and sound, to live a long, long life.”

Her gaze carried the words straight into Yanzhao’s chest. The hard walls she’d built inside crumbled before she knew it.

Tang Yanzhao clenched her jaw, lips taut.

Jianxi shifted closer, slipped one arm around her neck, and with swift ease fastened the pendant around her. She flicked the jade lightly with a finger, praising, “Looks good.”

Yanzhao’s eyes locked onto hers. Just as Jianxi began to pull away, Yanzhao caught her cool fingers in her grip.

Jianxi froze, staring at her. “What? You’ve already put it on—are you still going to refuse?”

Yanzhao gave a small shake of her head. “Are you angry?”

Jianxi’s brows rose in surprise, a chuckle escaping her nose. “You just realized?”

“No. I felt it before. I just confirmed it now.”

Still smiling faintly, Jianxi said, “I was angry, yes. But the gift was something I’d planned long ago. I didn’t want my emotions tangled up with it. Still, the fact that you asked me now makes me happy—because holding in feelings is exhausting.”

Yanzhao blinked. “Why?”

Jianxi didn’t expect her to sort it all out instantly. But the fact that she could sense it—that was already a good beginning.

“If I tell you the reason, it ruins the point. You’ll have to figure it out yourself. But when you do—promise me you’ll tell me right away. Okay?”

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