The Guide to Faking Innocence to Win His Wife - Chapter 2

Knock, knock-knock.

The sound of knocking shattered the silence of the night. Inside the room, the woman paused in a daze before asking, “Who is it?”

“The water heater,” the person outside blurted out. She then pursed her lips and added, “Grandma said you don’t know how to use it. She sent me up to show you.”

Sitting by the bedside, Xie Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief. She tossed the thick, rolled-up book onto the mattress and got up to open the door.

In recent years, Jiang Town had lost its publicity, and tourists had become increasingly scarce. Rooms that once required advance booking now sat empty for months. Consequently, Xie Zhiyi had paid an extra two hundred yuan to rent out the entire third floor.

She opened her bedroom door, crossed the small living room furnished with low tables and stools, and opened the outermost door.

Light spilled out, etching a tall, lean silhouette with increasing clarity.

Perhaps because she was already preparing for bed, Jiang Zhongmu wore only a loose white tank top, black mid-length shorts, and flip-flops. The muscles in her forearms and calves were prominent—not the calculated bulges from a gym, but the kind earned from heavy manual labor.

It made sense; for an orphaned girl living alone with an elderly woman in a small town, the younger one had to shoulder more of the burden.

“Xie Zhiyi.”

“Huh?” Hearing her full name so suddenly, Xie Zhiyi blanked for a moment before reflexively responding.

Jiang Zhongmu stood about 170cm tall, slightly taller than her. With a slight curve in her spine, she looked down at Xie Zhiyi and spoke helplessly, “Why are you spacing out again?”

Her voice was somewhat deep. Even though she was the younger one, there was an inexplicable sense of indulgence in her tone—the kind an elder might show toward a mischievous junior.

This realization embarrassed Xie Zhiyi, who was six years older. She turned slightly to avoid the other’s gaze and said coolly, “I was just remembering some things.”

Jiang Zhongmu blinked and strode inside naturally, adding, “Was it the same this afternoon? You seem to have a lot of ‘things’ on your mind.”

Xie Zhiyi’s wrist flared with a twinge of pain from being pulled earlier. She followed behind, shaking her hand. She knew Jiang Zhongmu was referring to how she had blocked the bus door that afternoon. She didn’t explain herself, but she felt that the person in front of her wasn’t as dull as she appeared on the surface.

Is she actually a bit mischievous?

However, when Jiang Zhongmu reached the bedroom door, she stopped. She stood to the side, looking straight ahead without casting a single glance inside. This display of boundaries made Xie Zhiyi dismiss her previous thought.

She seems like a well-mannered kid.

“It’s fine, come in,” Xie Zhiyi said, taking the lead and pushing the door open.

The room had a typical small-town layout: a square space with a window directly ahead. An open suitcase lay beside the large bed. The bathroom was to the left of the entrance, where a heavy water heater hung above a ceramic sink. Despite the Jiang family’s careful maintenance, it couldn’t hide its aging state.

“Did you try to turn it on just now?” Jiang Zhongmu asked casually, noticing the puddles on the floor.

Xie Zhiyi hummed in affirmation. The journey had been tedious, leaving her covered in dust and sweat; naturally, she wanted to wash up. However, she had struggled for a long time without getting hot water. To her, such a machine felt like a relic from the distant past, and the characters on the buttons had long since blurred. After puzzling over it for a while, she had finally sought outside help.

“Old things are always a bit troublesome,” Jiang Zhongmu comforted her. She leaned in and reached out to press the water heater.

“It’s hot in the summer, so if you want to shower, you only need to heat it a few minutes in advance.” She held down the leftmost button and turned to look at Xie Zhiyi like a patient teacher. Her tilted chin was taut, her jawline sharp and clear, and the pulse in her neck throbbed slightly.

“When you see sixty degrees displayed here, it’s ready.”

“Mhm,” Xie Zhiyi looked at the numbers flashing on the rectangular screen.

Jiang Zhongmu grabbed the faucet to demonstrate: “Then you turn this. Red is hot, blue is cold. Don’t turn it all the way to hot at once—”

“Wait!” Xie Zhiyi suddenly remembered something, but it was too late.

The showerhead, which wasn’t hanging on the wall as usual, instantly erupted with water, spraying directly onto Jiang Zhongmu.

Water splashed everywhere.

Fortunately, Jiang Zhongmu reacted quickly and shut it off immediately. Even so, she couldn’t stop the thin fabric of her clothes from soaking through. The wet cloth clung to her, tracing her silhouette—firm and upright above, flat below. Droplets trailed down her pant legs.

Both were stunned. Jiang Zhongmu instinctively turned to look at her.

Xie Zhiyi pointedly averted her eyes. Her long, chestnut curls fell loosely over her shoulders, and her loose shirt was unbuttoned at the top. A slender silver chain traced down her collarbone, its cross pendant swaying.

The drenched girl narrowed her eyes, her gaze settling on Xie Zhiyi’s hand, which was gripping the doorframe. The bent knuckles betrayed her tension; she had even unconsciously taken a half-step back.

Jiang Zhongmu suddenly realized something. Her earlier embarrassment vanished, replaced by a flicker of amusement in her narrow eyes, though her tone remained as flat as ever. “You didn’t hang the showerhead back up?”

“I… I forgot,” Xie Zhiyi stammered. “Sorry, I forgot to warn you.”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Zhongmu hung the swaying showerhead back in place, her tone light. “I was going to shower later anyway, so I’ll just change now.”

Before the other could speak, she added, “Those two steps—did you understand them?”

“Yes. You should go down and shower quickly, or you’ll catch a cold,” Xie Zhiyi replied, trying to project the image of a caring elder while her eyes remained fixed elsewhere.

“I live on the second floor. You can come find me if you need anything.” Jiang Zhongmu, however, was in no hurry to leave. She pretended to wring out her shirt, lifting the hem and revealing her midriff—tight, lean, and showing the faint hint of waist dimples.

As she applied pressure, the hem pulled higher, and water splashed loudly into the puddles below.

“Okay.”

The short response was stiff, and the bone of Xie Zhiyi’s knuckle became even more prominent.

Jiang Zhongmu let go of her wrinkled tank top and turned toward the door.

Xie Zhiyi stepped aside to let her pass, thinking she was leaving. Instead, a shadow loomed over her, swallowing her whole.

It was the sweltering aura of a young person, faintly carrying the scent of lime and stone.

The girl propped her hand against the doorframe. Her light amber eyes looked down under the light, her crow-feather lashes casting fine shadows. Her voice was playful: “Sister, did you actually learn how to do it?”

Her lips curved, revealing a faint dimple. Her tone held the teasing quality of youth, a far cry from her dull demeanor during the day.

Xie Zhiyi took a step back to create distance, lowering her head to avoid the girl’s gaze, only to accidentally look at the wet contours of her shirt.

“Sister?” The girl continued to play dumb, drawing out the final syllable with a questioning lilt.

Xie Zhiyi clenched her hands at her sides.

She was the elder, after all; she had seen her fair share of the world. Xie Zhiyi took an imperceptible breath and looked up, regaining her gentle and polite composure. “You explained it very clearly. I’ve remembered it.”

“If anything comes up, I’ll ask Grandma.”

“Even though it’s hot in summer, you should be careful. Getting splashed with cold water might make you sick. Go shower now,” she said, looking toward the door, making her desire for the guest to leave crystal clear.

Jiang Zhongmu didn’t linger. Despite being shooed away twice, she wasn’t angry. Her lips simply flattened into a straight line again as she replied, “As long as you remember. I’m heading down then?”

Xie Zhiyi stepped back, giving a silent answer.

The flip-flops left a trail of wet footprints. With a thud, the door was closed impatiently, and the light from the room was cut off.

Jiang Zhongmu walked down the stairs step by step, long accustomed to the darkness.

Jiang Town’s development had been slow. For a long time during Jiang Zhongmu’s childhood, electric lights were a luxury. Elders constantly reminded her to save electricity. There were rarely streetlights when she played in the fields at night, so she had developed the ability to see in the dark—not perfectly, but enough to distinguish outlines.

Her steady footsteps were unhurried, like a chess player holding a black stone, pondering the next move. She was pulling at a thread, trying to confirm a suspicion.

The fragrance of white champaca in the courtyard was long and elegant, its slender white flowers blooming quietly and swaying in the breeze.

The long staircase ended, and Jiang Zhongmu pushed open her door. The scent of lime and stone dust rushed out.

The layout was the same as the third floor, but the living area was occupied by a metal table. A device resembling a generator hung on a rack; a silver pipe slightly thicker than a thumb dangled down, its end wrapped in black rubber to form an odd-looking handle.

A plastic bucket hanging above had an IV tube inserted, dripping water into a metal tray on the table. Inside the tray was a rectangular piece of jade. Clearly, she had been working on this earlier.

Jiang Zhongmu stared at the unfinished piece for a moment, let out a sudden exhale, and shut off the water tube. She switched off the desk lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

Though it was just daily practice, jade carving required a calm mind. If one’s thoughts were wandering while pressing a machine against a stone, they would either hurt themselves or ruin the jade, let alone carve anything good.

She walked further in and finally turned on the light in her bedroom. Compared to the cluttered outer room, this space was simple: a bed, a wooden desk, a metal rack for clothes, and a pile of books tossed carelessly in the corner.

Jiang Zhongmu pulled out the chair, the wood scraping loudly as she sat down.

She looked down at the transparent glass covering the desktop. Tucked underneath were two pieces of paper.

One was an old Jiang family photo. A young Jiang Zhongmu was held by her parents, with Grandma smiling kindly beside them.

The other was an ordinary sheet of letter paper. In the corner was the printed name “Xunyang University.” The margins were covered in elementary school math problems. It seemed the owner hadn’t valued it much at first, but for some reason, it had later been placed solemnly in such an important spot.

She sat there leaning back against the chair, staring blankly at the glass divider, lost in thought.

Outside, the lights flickered and shadows of trees stretched long. Stars dotted the deep blue sea of the sky, and pale gray mists drifted by.

Jiang Zhongmu unconsciously brushed her hand over her abdomen. Things she had never cared about before now suddenly felt precious.

As the night deepened, the occasional sound of water from upstairs finally stopped. The ancient wooden bed creaked piercingly. For some unknown reason, Jiang Zhongmu, lying in bed in the middle of the night, began doing sit-ups like a person possessed. One could faintly hear her counting: “Sixty…”

“Seventy-one.”

“Eighty!”

She didn’t stop until she hit one hundred. The water stains on her shirt hadn’t faded; instead, they had become even more transparent with sweat.

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