The Guide to Faking Innocence to Win His Wife - Chapter 13

The sunlight was brilliant, and a gentle breeze ruffled the shade of the trees, scattering the dappled light on the ground as they stepped across ancient stone steps.

Jiang Zhongmu turned around to look at the woman trailing a step behind.

 

Xie Zhiyi’s long, curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail. She wore a silk white shirt with a shawl collar, with two buttons casually undone to reveal the silver pendant resting beneath.

 

Jiang Zhongmu’s gaze lingered on the swaying pendant for a moment before she looked away. Her narrow eyes were half-veiled, masking all emotion as she spoke: “Are you tired? Do you need to rest for a bit?”

 

Xie Zhiyi stopped in her tracks, hesitating for a moment before answering breathlessly, “Let’s walk a little longer.”

 

Jiang Zhongmu didn’t insist, but her pace slowed until she was exactly half a step behind Xie Zhiyi. Even with two bottles of mineral water in her pockets, she looked much more relaxed than her companion.

 

After a few days of rest, the two were finally fulfilling the promise they had made days ago.

 

Jiang Town was a quiet place. Though promoted as a tourist town, its main attractions were simply the peaceful environment, ancient houses, and traditional jade carving. To a local like Jiang Zhongmu, these things held little “aesthetic” novelty, so she followed Xie Zhiyi’s lead entirely—wherever the woman wanted to go, she followed.

 

But Xie Zhiyi was equally aimless; she had explored the town thoroughly years ago and had no real desire to “revisit old haunts.” After some discussion, they decided to head outside the town limits.

 

The small mountain they were currently climbing was only about ten kilometers from the town. It was said there was a small Taoist temple at the peak where an old priest lived, though the temple remained desolate as the town wasn’t particularly devout.

 

Jiang Zhongmu didn’t care for religion either, but having no better ideas, she led Xie Zhiyi into the mountains.

 

As the wind brushed past their ears, Xie Zhiyi’s footsteps grew heavy. Her stamina was no match for Jiang Zhongmu’s, who was used to manual labor. Having done little exercise since starting work, Xie Zhiyi felt she had hit her limit by the time they reached the halfway point.

 

She glanced at the relaxed Jiang Zhongmu. She couldn’t tell if the girl was actually climbing or just taking a stroll—every stride of those long legs cleared two steps at a time.

 

“Rest for a while?” Jiang Zhongmu looked over and asked again, her tone as steady and unaffected as ever.

 

This made Xie Zhiyi, whose muscles were starting to ache, feel a surge of annoyance. She forced out a stubborn, “No need.”

 

Jiang Zhongmu didn’t understand the pride involved and simply said, “If you’re really tired, just forget it. We don’t have to reach the top.”

 

To Xie Zhiyi’s ears, this sounded like a straight-A student telling you that studying doesn’t matter and grades aren’t important—pure “humblebragging.” She shot a look at the girl, said nothing, and continued walking.

 

The person behind her rubbed the bridge of her nose, hesitated, then took a large stride forward and reached out.

 

The next second, a hand covered in thick calluses firmly grasped Xie Zhiyi’s slender wrist. The touch was cool and smooth, like holding a piece of polished jade; Jiang Zhongmu could even feel the pulse thrumming against her palm.

 

Xie Zhiyi froze and looked back, her eyes filled with confusion.

 

Jiang Zhongmu pursed her lips, her sharp jawline tensing. After a moment of hesitation, she said, “Don’t be angry anymore.”

 

Xie Zhiyi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her earlier irritation vanished. “I’m not angry.” She was just annoyed at her own lack of fitness compared to her younger self.

 

“Really?”

 

“How could I be angry over something like this?”

 

Jiang Zhongmu searched her face as if confirming the truth. Seeing that the woman’s gaze was open and carried a lingering smile, she instinctively loosened her grip, then tightened it slightly. She turned back to face the path, hiding her fluttering nerves with a blunt tone: “I’ll pull you up.”

 

Having someone pull you along did indeed make it easier. Xie Zhiyi didn’t protest; being the elder, she wasn’t as prone to the overthinking and awkwardness of youth.

 

However…

 

She shifted her wrist slightly. Their body temperatures were vastly different—one ice-cold, the other burning hot—making the sensation vivid. Moreover, Jiang Zhongmu’s palm and knuckles were covered in a layer of rough calluses, which created a strangely tingly, numbing sensation.

 

But as Jiang Zhongmu continued upward, Xie Zhiyi suppressed her thoughts and followed.

 

They had left late and walked slowly, so the afternoon heat had begun to mellow. Jiang Zhongmu intentionally led them through the shade, where the breeze felt cool and leisurely. Their shadows gradually merged on the ground as the town houses below blurred into the distance.

 

Birdsong erupted as their footsteps startled a flock into the sky, the branches swaying in their wake.

 

Though Jiang Zhongmu looked ahead, her mind was entirely on the person behind her. Usually someone who walked like the wind, she was now forcing herself to take “kitten steps,” moving up the stairs one by one. If Jiang Nanxun saw her, he would surely mock her ruthlessly.

 

Jiang Zhongmu felt a brief lapse in focus. A person with hidden motives always thinks more than others. Though they had shared more intimate contact a few days ago, Xie Zhiyi had been semi-conscious then. Now, they were both wide awake under the clear sky.

 

She let out a stealthy breath to ease her tension, but the lapse in concentration nearly caused her to trip. She stumbled for a second but regained her balance instantly. Since the movement was small and her reflexes were sharp, the huffing and puffing Xie Zhiyi didn’t notice.

 

Jiang Zhongmu glanced back, her heart a tangled mess of emotions, before turning back to the path.

 

Half a quarter-hour later, the Taoist temple appeared. It was as dilapidated as rumored. The doors to the small main hall were wide open, revealing a wooden statue inside. A side room stood with its doors shut, though signs of habitation were visible.

 

Jiang Zhongmu called out, but no one answered. The old priest was nowhere to be found. But they hadn’t come for worship, so it didn’t matter.

 

After Xie Zhiyi rested for a bit, they wandered through the temple. The wooden statues were half-eaten by termites and offered little to see, so they eventually sat down together on the blue stone steps in front of the temple.

 

They sat two palms apart, their breathing still slightly hurried. Jiang Zhongmu was dressed in her usual loose T-shirt and mid-length shorts. It was as if she had bought them in bulk; she only ever wore plain black or white shirts. That old school uniform had actually been her most colorful piece of clothing.

 

She took a bottle of mineral water from her side pocket, loosened the cap, and handed it to Xie Zhiyi.

 

“Thank you,” Xie Zhiyi said, but she didn’t drink immediately. Instead, she gazed at the distant mountain valley, her watery eyes filled with a faint, unreadable emotion as she traced the hazy horizon.

 

“It’s nothing,” Jiang Zhongmu replied. She followed the woman’s gaze, looking steady on the surface, yet her hand was secretly pressing against the stone step, leaving a deep indentation in her palm.

 

She hesitated, then brought up a clumsy topic: “Xie Zhiyi, what are you looking at?”

 

Hearing this, Xie Zhiyi arched an eyebrow. Finally remembering the matter of etiquette, she emphasized lazily, “Call me ‘Sister’.”

 

“Xie Zhiyi,” Jiang Zhongmu repeated, not only refusing to change but adding weight to her words. She kept her face toward the mountains, her jawline sharp and tense.

 

“You brat, are you looking for trouble?” Xie Zhiyi said with a half-smile. Perhaps the trip had eased her heavy heart; looking at the endless distance, she felt like “educating” this impolite child.

 

“You can’t beat me,” Jiang Zhongmu suddenly laughed, her eyes crinkling with a strange sense of pride. “You’re not capable of it, Xie Zhiyi.”

 

Xie Zhiyi glanced at her. Not at all annoyed, she said earnestly, “Zhong-Zhong, there’s no need to resort to physical force for some things.”

 

The person beside her started frowning the moment she heard that nickname.

 

“I won’t hit you, and I don’t need to,” Xie Zhiyi paused, then added with a playful smile, “I just need to tell Grandma…”

 

Jiang Zhongmu pursed her lips and shot her a dark, brooding look.

 

The smile transferred to Xie Zhiyi’s face. She said cheerfully, “Come on, kid. Say it once for your Sister.”

 

Jiang Zhongmu pretended not to hear, staring at the scenery with a stony face. But Xie Zhiyi wasn’t about to let her off easy. She drew out her words lazily: “Grandma—”

 

“Sister,” the word was blurted out at high speed, dripping with reluctance.

 

“Good girl~” the “Sister” replied triumphantly.

 

It wasn’t that Xie Zhiyi had a particular obsession with being called “Sister.” She had been a teacher, and many of her students had preferred calling her “Sister” over “Teacher.” She was used to it. But Jiang Zhongmu was different. She had been a “silent gourd” since childhood and had rarely used the title then; now she was even more stubborn about it.

 

Before, Xie Zhiyi hadn’t bothered to care, but now… She laughed, the upward curve of her eyes soft and alluring. Teasing this little “mute stone” was just as fun as it used to be.

 

Jiang Zhongmu seemed annoyed for some reason and stayed silent. Xie Zhiyi took a sip of water and began to coax the “child” again. “So, you’re leaving for school in September?”

 

It was a terrible topic. Jiang Zhongmu curled her lip. “You’ve already asked twice, Xie Zhiyi.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“…Sister.” Jiang Zhongmu corrected herself grudgingly.

 

“Have you finished preparing your things?” Xie Zhiyi continued, satisfied.

 

“There’s nothing much to prepare,” Jiang Zhongmu’s tone softened slightly.

 

“Aren’t you going to get some sunscreen…” Before she could finish, Jiang Zhongmu turned to look at her, a hint of wordless exasperation in her narrow eyes.

 

Xie Zhiyi stopped, looking at the girl’s tanned skin. Indeed, she couldn’t get any darker; it wouldn’t make a difference. She twitched her lips, trying to salvage the conversation: “Well, you should at least buy a few new shirts.”

 

“No need. I have plenty at home.”

 

“You should have new clothes for the start of term.”

 

“Not interested. It’s a hassle,” Jiang Zhongmu took a sip from her own bottle.

 

“Then…” Xie Zhiyi wanted to continue.

 

“If you want to show concern for me, you could tell me about the world outside,” Jiang Zhongmu said directly. She glanced at her, then quickly looked away.

 

There was a tiny, hidden motive behind the request. It wasn’t that she had never traveled—she had worked away from home with her godfather before. She just wanted to use this as a way to find out a little more about Xie Zhiyi’s life.

 

Hearing this, Xie Zhiyi’s smile faded. Her expression turned distant as she muttered, “There’s nothing to tell about the outside world.”

 

“You said a few days ago that the world outside is huge and exciting.” Perhaps because she was too eager, Jiang Zhongmu didn’t notice the change in the woman’s tone.

 

“In my eyes, those things aren’t as interesting as this broken temple.”

 

“What’s interesting about it?” Jiang Zhongmu frowned, feeling like she was being brushed off. Just a moment ago, this woman had barely glanced inside before walking out.

 

Xie Zhiyi turned serious, even offering a justification: “There are mountains, trees, houses, and an ancient wooden statue. It’s just a pity the old priest isn’t here, otherwise I could have had him read my fortune.”

 

“It doesn’t matter if he’s not here,” Jiang Zhongmu said, easily distracted.

 

“Huh?” Xie Zhiyi was stunned.

 

“I can do it too,” Jiang Zhongmu said, her tone calm and steady, as if she hadn’t just said something incredibly strange.

 

“How could you…” Xie Zhiyi didn’t believe it, but then she remembered that the girl wasn’t the type to play pranks or tell lies.

 

“You don’t believe me?”

 

Xie Zhiyi looked her up and down. She had seen plenty of fortune tellers under city bridges, but someone so young and so tanned,she had certainly never seen that.

 

Jiang Zhongmu sat with her back straight, letting her be scrutinized. “Why don’t I read yours for you?”

 

“What can you read?”

 

“I can read palms.”

 

Xie Zhiyi asked immediately, “Left hand or right hand?”

 

Jiang Zhongmu answered even faster: “Left.”

 

“Left for men, right for women,” Xie Zhiyi said, thinking she had caught her in a mistake.

 

Jiang Zhongmu was unruffled, explaining with a touch of helplessness, “Left represents innate destiny, right represents developed fate. For those under thirty, you look at the left first.”

 

Does she actually know what she’s doing?

 

Xie Zhiyi blinked, then actually reached out her hand.

 

The wind swept through the green leaves like waves, the red sun slowly began its descent, and everything fell silent.