The Subtle Seduction of My Ex-Girlfriend’s Aunt - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Tang Ran Noticed a Trace of Familiarity…

“Ngh.”

Song Zhixu let out a muffled groan.

The force with which Tang Ran pressed down had slammed Song Zhixu’s wrist directly against the countertop, giving it a heavy knock.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Tang Ran hurriedly grabbed her wrist to check it.

The red mark stood out starkly against her fair skin. Without thinking, Tang Ran brought the wrist close and blew on it twice. The cool breath eased the dull ache on the skin, but it also stirred a faint, ticklish sensation.

“It’s fine, just a little bump.”

Song Zhixu’s fingers curled instinctively. She wanted to pull her hand back, but Tang Ran beat her to it; Tang Ran pressed her palm against the reddened wrist, rubbing it gently as she turned to apologize guiltily.

“It’s all my fault for being so clumsy.”

Song Zhixu had stepped behind her to wipe the spilled sauce, so when Tang Ran turned around, she found herself face-to-face with the bridge of Song Zhixu’s high nose. Lowering her gaze slightly, she saw pink lips coated in a layer of shimmering gloss, looking exactly like a water-kissed peach.

Tang Ran instinctively pursed her own lips.

This series of movements happened so fast that by the time Song Zhixu realized it, Tang Ran’s exquisite, flawless face was inches away. A sweet floral scent drifted into her nose; a strange sensation flickered in the depths of Song Zhixu’s heart, and even her breathing hitched for a moment.

Similarly, Tang Ran felt the warmth of Song Zhixu’s breath on her face and suddenly realized the situation. A wave of heat rushed to her ears, and she hurriedly took a step back to widen the distance between them.

“Hello? Hello? Old Song, what are you doing?”

Murong Yi’s voice blared from the phone, breaking the slightly stagnant atmosphere.

Song Zhixu cleared her throat. “Nothing. I have things to do today, so I won’t be coming over.”

“Did I just hear someone talking? The voice sounded pretty sweet,” Murong Yi muttered before suddenly raising her voice. “No way, Old Song—is something going on?!”

If she had heard those words a minute ago, Tang Ran wouldn’t have reacted at all. But after that little interlude, she felt the atmosphere had turned undeniably ambiguous.

“That’s all for now. Hanging up.”

Ignoring Murong Yi’s loud protests on the other end, Song Zhixu promptly ended the call. The silence of the kitchen made the vibe between the two even more subtle.

Tang Ran said somewhat awkwardly, “Sister, if you have plans, you should go. I can come back to watch the courseware another day.”

“It’s nothing major, just a good friend.” Compared to Tang Ran, Song Zhixu was much more composed. She picked up a plate, her expression returning to normal. “Let’s eat first.”

“Okay.”

Stepping into the spacious dining room, Tang Ran let out a quiet breath and, while Song Zhixu wasn’t looking, fanned her ears with her hand. She comforted herself that it was just an accident and not to take it to heart—look at how calm Song Zhixu was, completely unaffected. Tang Ran recited this mantra twice before the temperature behind her ears finally dropped.

As they sat down, Tang Ran suddenly realized that, across two lifetimes, this was actually the first time she had ever eaten alone with Song Zhixu. She had known Song Zhixu much longer than Song Wuqi, but because of their nine-year age gap, they had never shared social circles outside of family gatherings.

Song Zhixu didn’t eat much. She wasn’t a picky eater nor did she have any particular favorites; just like her personality, she made it impossible for Tang Ran to guess her likes or dislikes.

After dinner, Song Zhixu led Tang Ran to the study.

The wooden desk was spacious. Aside from the desktop computer, there was a laptop, and an extra chair had been set out—clearly prepared by Song Zhixu in advance. Song Zhixu pulled up the training videos and placed the materials Assistant Jiang had delivered on the desk.

“These are the accompanying study materials. Take a look first, and if there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask me.”

“Okay.”

Tang Ran nodded. Seeing Song Zhixu put on her glasses and sit at the desktop, she conscientiously put on her Bluetooth headphones. The Song Group’s training course was a fast-track introductory program designed for management roles without a financial background. The content wasn’t difficult or overly broad; Tang Ran didn’t find it too taxing, though she occasionally struggled with certain technical terms.

While Tang Ran listened to the lessons, Song Zhixu worked beside her. During one forty-five-minute session, Song Zhixu took five calls and held a video conference for a project. Tang Ran sighed inwardly—a “big shot” is indeed a big shot; she said she was free tonight, yet she still had endless work to handle.

Sensing Tang Ran’s gaze, Song Zhixu looked up from the screen. “Is there a problem?” Her expression was gentle, showing no sign of being annoyed by the interruption.

“I finished the first lesson, but there are a few parts I don’t quite get.” Since she was using her resources, Tang Ran felt bad about interrupting constantly, so she had highlighted everything she didn’t understand to ask all at once.

Song Zhixu stood up and walked over, leaning one hand on the desk to look at Tang Ran’s materials. Tang Ran pointed to several marked spots on the balance sheet. “I don’t quite understand the formulas for calculating a company’s short-term solvency.”

This was Tang Ran’s biggest concern, but the teacher in the video had only touched upon it briefly.

“There should be a more detailed analysis later in the balance sheet section, but I’ll give you a simple explanation first so you have an idea.” Song Zhixu didn’t skip over it just because it would be covered later; instead, she was exceptionally patient. Beyond explaining the confusing parts, she expanded on the topic, mentioning real-world scenarios encountered in daily management.

Song Zhixu tilted her head slightly, her hair falling on one side and obscuring her view. She lifted a hand, her slender fingers tucking the hair behind her ear, and then reflexively adjusted her sliding glasses frames.

Seeing this gesture, Tang Ran’s gaze froze.

It was so similar.

The last time she saw Song Zhixu wearing glasses, Song Zhixu had been wearing a mask, so Tang Ran hadn’t thought much of it. But the moment she tucked her hair just now, Tang Ran sensed a trace of familiarity.

Song Zhixu and Song Wuqi only shared about thirty to forty percent of the same facial features. Since Song Wuqi always wore glasses, no one would think they looked alike unless they looked closely. However, looking closely now, it wasn’t their features that were similar, but their mannerisms. Song Wuqi’s expressions, movements, and even her calculated “gentle and thoughtful” persona were all extremely similar to Song Zhixu’s.

Tang Ran’s eyes darkened. It was behind such a soft, considerate mask that Song Wuqi had deceived her, leading her step-by-step toward a dead end.

“A company’s short-term solvency requires a comprehensive consideration of these values I mentioned. In the following lessons…”

As if sensing something, Song Zhixu suddenly stopped talking and turned her head to look at Tang Ran.

Tang Ran blinked, suppressed the sudden surge of hostility in her heart, and forced a smile. “I understand now. Your explanation was very detailed, thank you, Sister.”

“Mhm. We’ll do a comprehensive comparison and calculation once the later lessons cover the rest.” Song Zhixu seemed not to notice Tang Ran’s abnormality and put down the pen with an unchanged expression.

“Okay.” Tang Ran nodded obediently. She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. I won’t disturb your rest anymore, Sister.”

With her anger difficult to restrain, Tang Ran could no longer focus on the lesson; she even felt a momentary urge to avoid seeing Song Zhixu.

“Mhm.” Song Zhixu stood up and made way for her. “I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon, so I might be back a bit late.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for you to come back.” Tang Ran lowered her head to tidy her materials.

Song Zhixu walked her to the door. The cool night breeze blew, and Tang Ran took a silent breath, pulling her rationality back. To deal with Song Wuqi, winning over Song Zhixu was the most effective method. She shouldn’t take her anger out on Song Zhixu because of Song Wuqi. Even if she took another step back—even if Song Zhixu’s gentleness was also a hypocritical mask—what did it matter? All she wanted was a partnership, not her heart.

Tang Ran curled her lips into a smile and turned back. “Sister, what do you want to eat tomorrow?”

“Anything is fine, I’m not picky.” Song Zhixu’s answer was the same as before.

Tang Ran blinked. “But is there any dish you especially like?” A streak of stubbornness rose in her heart; the more she couldn’t guess, the more she wanted to know what Song Zhixu actually liked.

Song Zhixu lifted her eyes, seemingly thinking seriously. After a few seconds, she shook her head gently. She truly had no strong preferences when it came to food.

But Tang Ran seemed very determined to find out. Song Zhixu had noticed Tang Ran’s little observations during dinner. With her keen intuition and the frequent “accidental” encounters lately, Song Zhixu guessed that Tang Ran was intentionally trying to get closer to her. As for the motive, Song Zhixu had her suspicions but didn’t jump to conclusions.

Tang Ran’s phone vibrated. It was a call from Lu Shuyang. The smile on Tang Ran’s face vanished instantly. Among her friends, Lu Shuyang was the most mature and possessed a strong sense of boundaries; he wouldn’t call this late unless it was an emergency. Tang Ran guessed that, in all likelihood, something had happened to Song Wuqi.

“Shuyang,” Tang Ran answered.

Lu Shuyang’s deep voice came from the other side: “Ranran, Wuqi has been injured. Can you come to Jiangcheng Hospital right now?”

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