"What to do When the Pretty Woman I Kissed is My Best Friend's Professor" - Chapter 15

“Auntie Wang, I understand what you mean, but I am not my father,” Shen Jinrong (沈錦容) frowned impatiently, tapping her fingertip on the wooden table before her, silently putting pressure on the woman opposite her. “You don’t need to talk about sentiment with me. When a person dies, their light goes out. He has passed away, and I do not care about the affection between him and others.”

“Oh, little Shen! That’s not the way to talk!” Hearing Shen Jinrong speak this way, Wang Dingyun’s  tone across the table grew urgent. She looked around fifty, with prominent cheekbones, sharp eyes, and thin lips. Her hands were resting on the tabletop, making it clear she had enjoyed a life of luxury for several years.

“Then what is the way to talk?” Shen Jinrong raised an eyebrow, one corner of her mouth curving up in interest. Her pair of clear, dark eyes watched the woman calmly.

The way she looked at her—as if she were watching a clumsy clown—made the arrogant Wang Dingyun very unhappy, but since she needed something from Shen Jinrong, Wang Dingyun struggled to pull up a smile: “I’m not ‘others’! I was your father’s—lover.”

Shen Jinrong was not at all stung by the word “lover” in her speech. She gave a slight chuckle: “Lover? Did he marry you?”

Wang Dingyun’s forced smile faltered. If old Shen had married her, would she be here now begging Shen Jinrong just to get a share of the inheritance?

“Auntie Wang, one must be cautious when being a mistress. If I remember correctly, you were already involved with him before my mother passed away, weren’t you?” The smile in Shen Jinrong’s eyes grew colder, and the sharpness in her gaze sent a chill through Wang Dingyun. That look reminded her of old Shen.

“You! How can you talk like that!” Wang Dingyun’s voice was soft and sweet; it had been that way when Shen Jinrong first met her many years ago, and it remained so even now that she was older. Perhaps old Shen liked it, but the sound was grating to Shen Jinrong’s ears.

“Why didn’t he marry you? Wasn’t it because he was afraid you’d divide his assets?” Although Shen Jinrong’s lips were smiling, there was no mirth in her eyes. She had no patience to continue feigning courtesy with Wang Dingyun and decided to be direct: “I guess he originally planned to leave a will when he was near death and deal with the asset distribution then. But he didn’t expect—and I guess you didn’t either—that this day would come so quickly.”

When mentioning this matter, there was no sadness in Shen Jinrong’s eyes, only a long-suppressed sense of triumph: “So, I’m sorry. His inheritance belongs entirely to my Grandmother and me. You are not entitled to a single cent.”

Wang Dingyun’s face turned ashen.

“He gave you a considerable amount of things over the years, didn’t he? Auntie Wang, it’s vital to know your place.” Shen Jinrong smoothed the curve of her lips and narrowed her eyes: “What he has already given away, I won’t pursue. But I also hope you won’t bother my Grandmother or me again. Do you understand?”

Perhaps because the last three words Shen Jinrong spoke were so chilling, Wang Dingyun felt a cold shiver run down her back. Her lips trembled. She pointed at Shen Jinrong for a long time without managing to speak a single word. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her bag and left.

Shen Jinrong dropped her earlier expression, lowered her gaze, and took a sip of the lukewarm coffee in front of her.

An Americano.

It wasn’t too bitter.

She closed her eyes, thinking, It’s finally almost over.

It’s a bit cold today.

She remained in her seat and ordered another hot Americano, placing her hands around the cup until her cold fingers gradually warmed up.

Her phone rang. She opened her eyes to look. It was an unfamiliar number.

Shen Jinrong hesitated for a moment but answered it anyway.

“Hello, who is this?”

After a brief silence on the other end, the careful, probing voice of a girl came through: “Professor Shen, hello, I am Yan He.”

The tightly pursed corners of Shen Jinrong’s lips suddenly blossomed into a gentle curve.

Today doesn’t seem too cold after all.

There was a long silence from Shen Jinrong on the other end of the line. Yan He thought her signal was bad. She sighed with frustration, but before she could speak, Shen Jinrong’s smiling voice came through: “Why the sigh, little one?” Shen Jinrong held her chin with one hand and the phone to her ear with the other, her voice carrying a tenderness she didn’t even realize: “It’s not good to sigh so much when you’re so young.”

Yan He nearly jumped up. She felt her face and ears growing hot. With wide eyes, she frantically turned off the speakerphone, glanced at the junior member next to her to ensure he hadn’t noticed anything amiss, and then continued holding the phone: “N-no, I thought my signal was bad.”

Shen Jinrong’s low, slightly husky laugh came through the phone again—soft and melodious, brushing past Yan He’s ear like a feather: “No, it was my fault.”

How is it your fault? Yan He nervously glanced around, unconsciously clenching her hand. Her throat constricted. For a moment, she actually felt she could smell Shen Jinrong’s perfume—a faint citrus scent mixed with the crispness of snow frost.

Only, this scent had no temperature, appearing faintly and briefly in the air before quickly fading away.

It was only slightly similar, but that tiny similarity was already enough.

Yan He suddenly looked up and scanned her surroundings, her gaze finally landing on Yu Ke, who was slicing a small green lime and preparing to drink frozen lemon Coke.

“The little one got her present on her own,” Shen Jinrong laughed, thinking of the time she had told Yan He, “If we can meet a fourth time.”

Yan He pursed her lips, momentarily unsure what to say to continue the conversation.

It felt like anything she said would be wrong, and anything she said might break the rare tenderness of the moment.

“What is it?” Shen Jinrong asked Yan He first. She switched the phone to her left hand and unconsciously stirred the small spoon in her coffee cup with her right.

“It’s about this…” Yan He subconsciously turned her head, her gaze falling on the junior member who was looking down for materials. She paused, then explained the school’s interview activity. Afterward, she nervously waited for Shen Jinrong’s reply.

Shen Jinrong tilted her head: “I see…” Her voice drew out a bit at the end, and the aspirated sound at the close of the word made Yan He’s ears turn red again—Does Elder Sister not know that sounds so much like flirting!

“I have time right now,” Shen Jinrong lowered her eyes, her gaze fixed on the coffee cup in front of her. Her tone was gentle, betraying no emotion. She asked, “How many of you are there?”

Yan He glanced at the junior member again; the latter straightened up, looking at her expectantly.

Yan He uncomfortably avoided his gaze and replied decisively: “One person!”

Shen Jinrong quietly murmured, “Mm-hmm,” and asked, “Is this your number?”

“Yes!” Yan He’s heart leaped with joy.

“Alright, then I’ll send you the address.”

Yan He grabbed the folder from the table, snatched her coat, and quickly walked out.

“President! Senior! What about me? What about me!” The junior member stared wide-eyed, unable to believe Yan He had just abandoned him and left for the interview.

Yan He didn’t look back: “I’ll do the interview! You write the article!”

The junior member: ???

The junior member was touched: !!! The President has entrusted me with the easy job!