Blossom through the Cloud - Chapter 25

Chapter 25

If he had heard Ruan Xian speak like that the first time, Fu Mingyu would have flown into a three-story-high rage.

If he had heard it a second time, his blood pressure would have surged.

Yet right now, Fu Mingyu simply sighed, feeling nothing other than helplessness.

Silently turning around, he walked over to the desk to grab the scissors, disassembled the Chinese mitten crabs, and then cleaned up all the packaging strings and debris scattered on the table.

"Let's eat."

Ruan Xian ran off to wash her hands, taking her seat at the table first, while Fu Mingyu went to wash his own hands.

Glancing over the dishes on the table, Ruan Xian noticed a small ice pack tucked off to the side.

Opening it up, she found a portion of cream puffs inside.

Compared to the steaming hot meal, in this sweltering weather, she craved a bite of something sweet even more.

Breaking open a puff, soft cream oozed out, and Ruan Xian immediately took a large bite.

After finishing the puff, she sucked the lingering cream off her fingertips while hunting for a tissue.

Just at that moment, Fu Mingyu emerged from washing his hands.

His gaze landed on Ruan Xian's fingers and her lower lip, his eyes darkening by a fraction as a sudden itch flared in the center of his chest.

"Wipe it off."

He casually passed over a tissue from the cabinet behind him.

Ruan Xian wiped her fingers, and the two of them sat down facing each other.

Without speaking, Fu Mingyu picked up his chopsticks and began to eat, while Ruan Xian took a sip of soup and glanced across at him, feeling that life was truly quite wondrous.

In her wildest dreams, she never imagined she would be sitting calmly at the same table sharing a meal with Fu Mingyu.

Even so, she hadn't forgotten the true purpose behind letting Fu Mingyu into her apartment.

Swirling her spoon aimlessly in her bowl, she stared at the food before her, pondering how to phrase her words.

Just moments ago, Fu Mingyu had mentioned that Zheng You'an was the daughter of his partner company's boss.

Ruan Xian already knew this much; what she didn't know was that Fu Mingyu and Zheng You'an actually knew each other, and seemed to be on reasonably good terms at that.

After all, everything she knew about Zheng You'an came from unilaterally stalking Zheng You'an's Weibo profile, without ever having any genuine contact with her—not even an indirect connection.

Ruan Xian had always known that her feelings toward Zheng You'an were a bit strange.

When she had accidentally stumbled upon Zheng You'an's Weibo in the past, she had even secretly hoped that Zheng You'an would turn out to be a flashy, spoiled rich second-generation heir—someone who spent her days wallowing in hedonism and debauchery, all external show with a rotten core—so that it might balance things out in her own mind.

You abandoned your own biological daughter to go become someone else's stepmother, but look at that child—she's nothing special either, nowhere near as capable as me.

Yet Zheng You'an stubbornly refused to be that kind of person.

At least, judging from Ruan Xian's one-sided understanding through Weibo, although Zheng You'an spent money recklessly and loved flaunting her luxurious lifestyle online, one could also occasionally spot her complaining on Weibo about missing out on the first-class scholarship, or showing off awards won by her photography works, or even learning through her posts that the three dogs and one cat she kept were all rescues.

Ruan Xian had even watched through those Weibo updates as those stray cats and dogs slowly grew from pitiful little creatures into chubby, well-fed pets.

This completely stripped Ruan Xian of any justified footing for her dislike toward Zheng You'an, leaving her feeling like some petty villain lurking in the dark and spying on others.

Yet while she despised her own petty mindset, she remained endlessly curious about whether Zheng You'an in private was truly the same person portrayed on Weibo, and just as curious about the genuine relationship between her and Dong Xian.

And Fu Mingyu seemed to be the sole thread connecting her and Zheng You'an together.

"Um..."

Just as Ruan Xian opened her mouth, Fu Mingyu chimed in at the exact same time, "You..."

The two of them paused. Ruan Xian instantly pulled back her little scheming thoughts like a startled turtle and blurted out, "You speak first."

Fu Mingyu said, "Are you finishing your supervised training next week?"

Ruan Xian nodded.

A moment later, Ruan Xian abruptly raised her head.

"Done speaking?"

Fu Mingyu swept a look over her, a faint, ambiguous smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"What else did you want me to say?"

Ruan Xian: ?

Do you think you're a comedian from the Deyunshe crosstalk troupe, with people lined up all day waiting to hang on your every word?

Without replying, Ruan Xian lowered her head and took a small sip of soup.

"What was it you wanted to say just now?"

Fu Mingyu asked.

She had just tucked her little probing shoots back into the soil, but now that Fu Mingyu had proactively brought it up again, Ruan Xian couldn't quite help herself.

Pondering for a brief moment, she slowly began, "What do you think of Zheng You'an?"

Had Ruan Xian looked up at that exact second, she would have witnessed the smile vanish from the corners of Fu Mingyu's mouth entirely, followed by a deep, long-suffering inhalation of air.

"How do you even know her name?"

Fiddling with her spoon, Ruan Xian muttered, "Never you mind how I know it."

"Why are you so fixated on her?"

"Never you mind why I'm fixated on her."

"..."

Setting his chopsticks down, Fu Mingyu fixed a solemn, steady gaze on Ruan Xian.

"I've already stated this: she is merely the daughter of my partner company's boss, and her parents run in the same social circles as mine. That is the extent of it."

Running in the same social circles...

Ruan Xian gave her spoon a tiny, desultory stir and asked once more, "So what do you actually think of her?"

Letting out an elongated sigh, Fu Mingyu calculated how many multiples his patience had multiplied by over the span of just a few months, seeing as he was now explaining the exact same matter for the third time.

"I've known her for less than two years, met her no more than four times, and spoken fewer than twenty sentences to her. How am I supposed to know what she's like? And what does what she's like have to do with me?"

Ruan Xian: "......?"

Turns out you two aren't even close after all.

If you aren't close, you aren't close—why are you snapping with such an attitude?

You're the one who dragged yourself over here to ask me out to dinner, yet you won't even let me make a little casual small talk?

Is this guy out of his mind?

Anger flared up in Ruan Xian. Dropping her spoon, she completely lost her appetite.

"Forget it if you don't know."

Seeing Ruan Xian's reaction, Fu Mingyu lost his appetite as well. Setting his chopsticks down, he stared straight across the table at her.

"Ruan Xian."

"What."

"Eat some more."

"No appetite."

Pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek and closing his eyes for a second, Fu Mingyu demanded, "What on earth are you still angry about?"

Ruan Xian felt equally exasperated: "Who's angry?"

"Go find a mirror and take a look at how dark your face is right now."

Ruan Xian let out a soft huff through her nose. "Don't I always look like this? It's not like today's the first day you've known me."

Fu Mingyu sneered. "Oh, so you actually know your attitude toward me is terrible?"

Turning her face away, Ruan Xian couldn't even be bothered to look at him. "Would I be treating you with this kind of attitude if you hadn't provoked me?"

"When did I provoke you?"

"Just listen to the tone you used a minute ago! You're the one who insisted on coming over to find me for dinner, yet you won't even let me talk. What, am I just some side dish meant to accompany your meal?"

Raising a hand, Fu Mingyu forced himself to compromise. "Fine, drop it. Let's just say it's my fault, alright?"

Ruan Xian: "......?"

It was clearly your fault to begin with—what's this nonsense about "let's just say it's my fault," like you're some kind of wronged party?

Fortunately, the doorbell rang at that exact moment. Relieved of having to argue further, Ruan Xian didn't even bother asking who it was and went straight to open the door.

Moving with exaggerated vigor, her scowling face frightened the delivery worker half to death the moment the door swung open.

"S-S-Sorry! My delivery bike broke down on the way, so I had to push it the rest of the way and spent ages registering at the security gate, which made me late. I am truly, deeply sorry."

Listen to that—even a delivery worker earning a few bucks in delivery fees had a vastly better attitude than Fu Mingyu. And the guy still had the nerve to try and hit on women with an attitude like that? Fat chance.

Pfft!

Wait, why was she insulting herself? It was all Fu Mingyu's fault for driving her up the wall.

Taking the delivery bag, Ruan Xian smiled and said, "It's fine, you've worked hard. I'll make sure to leave you a glowing review."

With that, she casually grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the nearby cabinet and handed it to him. "It's hot out, have some water."

Flattered beyond belief, the delivery worker accepted the bottle, practically radiating gratitude with every fiber of his being. "Thank you, thank you so much!"

Closing the door, Ruan Xian turned around to find Fu Mingyu still seated at her table like some grand lord, wearing a dark expression as though she owed him millions.

Unwilling to face him across the table anymore, Ruan Xian took her takeout over to the sofa, tore open the packaging, and began digging in with her spoon.

"You certainly have a nice attitude toward delivery workers."

"If you went out delivering food, I'd have a nice attitude toward you too. Can't help it, I have a grudge against the rich."

Massaging the back of his neck with his mouth half-open, Fu Mingyu let out another prolonged sigh.

When he looked back at Ruan Xian, he found that she was devouring the food—which gave off the distinct aroma of cheap rapeseed oil—with gusto, while the exquisite dishes laid out before him were gradually growing cold.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Fu Mingyu slowly stood up.

Just as he started toward Ruan Xian, her phone rang.

Glancing down at the screen, she saw it was Yan An calling.

What could he possibly want at this hour of the night?

Holding her spoon in one hand, Ruan Xian answered the call with the other.

"Hello, President Yan, is something the matter?"

Hearing Ruan Xian use that formal title, Fu Mingyu's footsteps paused mid-stride.

On the other end of the line, Yan An's voice carried a distinct hint of alcohol.

"Have you gone to bed yet?"

Was he drinking?

Some men, once intoxicated, loved making late-night phone calls to the women lingering in their thoughts; she hadn't expected someone of Yan An's stature as a corporate CEO to suffer from this sentimental affliction.

In situations like this, letting the conversation drag on too long easily opened the door for the other person to read too much into things, so Ruan Xian spun a white lie. "I'm about to go to sleep. Is there something urgent?"

Yan An fell silent for a moment before saying, "Sigh, I just wanted to talk to you. Could you... come down for a moment? I'm right outside your building."

Sensing a pair of eyes fixed on her from across the room, Ruan Xian turned back to shoot a glare in that direction, shuffling further into the corner of the sofa. "I'm really sorry, I've already crawled into bed."

"Sigh..." Yan An continued, "Well, talking on the phone for a bit works too. Actually, about that incident last time, I really knew nothing about it. I've completely made a clean break with my ex-girlfriend; that sort of thing won't ever happen again."

Ruan Xian massaged her temples.

Why were both men determined to create headaches for her today? Were corporate executives these days really this suffocatingly idle?

"President Yan, I thought I made myself perfectly clear regarding this matter."

"Sigh..."

"It's getting late. You should head back and get some early rest."

Sighing once more, Yan An paused for quite a while before finally saying, "Alright, go get your rest then. I won't disturb you any longer."

Hanging up the phone without the slightest hesitation, Ruan Xian looked up to find Fu Mingyu still watching her.

"Yan An?"

Ignoring him, Ruan Xian lowered her head and went back to eating.

Just as Fu Mingyu opened his mouth to speak, his own phone chimed.

It was Bayang calling.

Truth be told, he had carved out this time slot by squeezing it into his busy schedule; he still had to head back to the office for a meeting tonight, and the hour was fast approaching.

Walking over to the sofa, Fu Mingyu picked up his suit jacket. "I have matters to attend to at the company, so I'm leaving."

"Don't let me keep you."

That stiff, icy tone stirred a fresh wave of helplessness in Fu Mingyu's chest. He wanted to say something, only to realize there was nothing left to be said.

"Ruan Xian."

With a trace of irritation, Ruan Xian snapped, "What is it now?"

"Takeout isn't hygienic. Eat less of it."

Head still buried in her meal, Ruan Xian acted as though she hadn't heard a word.

The moment the front door clicked shut, her hand paused. She lifted her gaze to stare at the untouched feast left on the dining table.

Damn it all, if Fu Mingyu hadn't been acting like an absolute lunatic, would she have ever abandoned a meal from Xixiang Banquet just to choke down claypot rice?

By the time Fu Mingyu descended to the ground floor, the sky had turned pitch black.

Clutching his jacket, he strode toward the exit with brisk, heavy steps.

Having worked himself to the bone all day without a shred of rest, he had deliberately carved out time amidst his chaos to accompany Ruan Xian for dinner, only to get himself driven half-insane by her in return. He had no idea what he was even trying to achieve anymore.

Yet before he could even step out of the main lobby, a familiar figure caught his eye outside.

Yan An stood with a hunched back, leaning against the side of a car while lighting a cigarette.

Though his expression couldn't be seen, his entire posture radiated an aura of "I am deeply sorrowful and melancholic." At a casual glance, he genuinely possessed the tragic demeanor of a heartbroken man.

Fu Mingyu's initial impulse was to pretend he hadn't seen him and walk right past, but as he descended the front steps, his stride faltered. Turning his head slightly, he called out in a low voice, "Yan An."

Yan An raised his head. Seeing that it was Fu Mingyu, he had zero desire to engage in conversation.

Tilting his head to study him from the side, Fu Mingyu stated flatly, "She's already posting thinly veiled jabs at you on her WeChat Moments, yet you're still hovering around like a stray dog. Have you lost every ounce of your backbone?"