You’re getting married?

Chapter 17

"This is my home. I used to be an orphan."

Lin Zhengmo thought she'd misheard, instinctively letting out a confused "Hm?"

The rain was too loud, so Jian Yue raised her voice: "I was born with a heart condition. My biological parents thought I couldn't be cured, so they abandoned me." She added, "Later, my adoptive mother took me in, got me surgery, and made me fully functional. That's roughly the story."

This was the second time Lin Zhengmo was shocked.

She'd always assumed Director Jian came from a happy family with wealth and status, the kind of background that nurtured her calm confidence. It never occurred to her she'd been abandoned.

The rearview mirror reflected Jian Yue's face. On this rainy day, the muted gray light sharpened her features, making her look both icy and glamorous.

Lin Zhengmo was stunned, her pupils rippling with emotion.

She didn't know what to say.

After Jian Yue navigated two traffic lights, Lin Zhengmo finally asked: "Did the surgery hurt?"

"They made a long incision, from my chest to my upper abdomen, but I didn't feel much during the operation. The pain came after the anesthesia wore off." Jian Yue laughed as she spoke. "Actually, I had a happy childhood. The women's welfare institute was like a big family, and the director was very responsible. Then my mom adopted me and never treated me poorly."

Lin Zhengmo breathed a sigh of relief. Subconsciously, she'd hoped Director Jian had a relatively happy childhood.

"A friend of mine also has a heart condition," Lin Zhengmo thought of Ah Ah Ah. "She told me the same, but we haven't met yet."

The driver said nothing, focusing on the road.

The passenger continued: "Actually, you and my friend have a lot in common."

The driver's ears perked up, but she played dumb: "Hm? What did you say?"

"Nothing."

Lin Zhengmo didn't have the courage to repeat it.

Twenty minutes later, the scooter stopped at Lin Zhengmo's apartment building.

As Lin Zhengmo got off, Jian Yue handed her a serving of shredded chicken cold noodles, apologizing: "Sorry, I said I'd take you to eat, but we haven't had a chance in two hours."

Food wasn't a priority for Lin Zhengmo; she rarely felt starving.

"It's fine, Director Jian. I had a good time today."

Jian Yue smiled: "Really?"

"Really." Lin Zhengmo took the cold noodles and looked up at the sky.

The rain continued, a drizzle that made her think of stretchy pizza cheese. Strangely, she felt hungry now.

Director Jian was still on the scooter, wearing that cute raincoat and looking at her expectantly, waiting for a goodbye.

Lin Zhengmo meant to say "bye," but the words morphed in her throat, and what came out was:

"Are you hungry?"

"Hm?" Jian Yue was surprised but nodded. "Yeah, starving."

"Would you like to come up and eat? At my place."

Jian Yue was clearly taken aback, her eyes flickering with uncertainty for a second before she quickly agreed: "Sure."

She hopped off the scooter, parked it by the roadside, and removed her raincoat and hat with swift movements:

"Let's go."

Lin Zhengmo thought she was refreshingly straightforward—no polite refusals. Of course, the invitation was genuine.

As they walked into the apartment building, Lin Zhengmo suddenly felt impulsive.

Why had she invited Director Jian to her home? She was usually so orderly, never inviting strangers over. What made Jian Yue special enough to break her rules?

She couldn't find an answer, blaming it on the weather.

Blame the rain.

"Which floor do you live on?"

"The eighth."

"Got it." Jian Yue reached out. "Let me carry that."

Lin Zhengmo shook her head: "It's light. I can manage."

In the elevator, they stood in opposite corners. The confined space compressed the air, making the atmosphere as damp as the rain outside. Lin Zhengmo felt inexplicably nervous, even though it was her own home.

She was so conflicted—she'd invited Jian Yue, but now she couldn't act naturally.

She was terrified...

"Here we are."

She led Jian Yue to the door. As soon as it opened, a cat's meow put her at ease. With Bubble around, it wasn't just the two of them.

"Ah, you have a cat?" Jian Yue saw the little feline for the first time. How else would I send my wife daily photos without you?

"Yeah, his name is Bubble."

"Bubble—cute name." Jian Yue called from the doorway: "Bubble, little Bubble~"

Bubble looked confused, his sapphire eyes shining as he meowed sweetly from the floor.

Lin Zhengmo picked up a pair of slippers for Jian Yue: "Come in, Director Jian."

Jian Yue suppressed her excitement, acting like a polite guest as she neatly changed her shoes and only sat when Lin Zhengmo gestured to the sofa.

"Let me get you some water."

"Thanks, sorry to trouble you."

They were as formal as strangers meeting for the first time.

While Lin Zhengmo was in the kitchen, Jian Yue subtly observed the apartment.

It was small but stylish. Lin Zhengmo kept plants on a three-tier wooden shelf, neatly arranged—begonias, it seemed.

Near the balcony stood a wooden piano, its stand piled with books as if to deliberately keep it unused.

Lin Zhengmo returned with water and sat beside Jian Yue: "Here you go, Director Jian."

"Thanks." Jian Yue withdrew her gaze and couldn't help asking: "You play the piano?"

"Occasionally." Lin Zhengmo sipped her water, staring blankly at the piano.

Lin Zhengmo was a prodigy at piano, winning countless competitions since childhood. Her parents, Zhou Jingfang and Lin Hong, had always been proud of the trophies lining their cabinets.

A piano teacher once said: "Whether your daughter pursues this or not, the piano will always belong to a talent like her."

But in Lin Zhengmo's tiny apartment, there were no trophies. They didn't belong to her.

It wasn't that she disliked the piano. She admitted the music could be moving, but art had become a facade for her parents' vanity. Every achievement lit up their pride while dimming her own.

"What do you usually play?"

"Anything." Lin Zhengmo looked at Jian Yue. "But I don't play often."

"I noticed," Jian Yue smiled. "Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many books here."

"English lesson plans." Lin Zhengmo laughed too. She put down her mug, walked to the piano, moved the books aside, lifted the lid, and sat down. "I'll play you something."

Jian Yue's gaze followed her, landing on her shoulders.

Ms. Lin's black hair fell casually over her shoulders, catching the light and shimmering. Her shoulders were straight, her hands resting naturally on the keys, exuding a composed aura.

Lin Zhengmo and the piano were a perfect match—she was the keys, and the keys were her.

Clear, melodious notes filled Jian Yue's ears, a piece she'd never heard before.

Do, re, mi—

It was hard to tell.

But a picture gradually formed in her mind...

It was like a rainy day, a wet path winding through a world washed clean by rain, leading to a warm room.

Jian Yue was entranced, watching slender fingers dance across the keys. The music was a thread pulling at her nerves, as if Lin Zhengmo were holding her hand and leading her in a dance, making her cherish this love.

The illusion of their love became tangible in that moment.

Jian Yue felt like she'd become part of the piano, wanting to be the space between the keys so she could see Lin Zhengmo every time she pressed down.

The music continued—

The player acted on a whim,

The listener was spellbound.

When the music abruptly ended, Jian Yue couldn't tear her eyes away. She could no longer pretend to be a polite guest; her gaze was so intense it could have dried the rain.

Lin Zhengmo turned, her beautiful eyes meeting Jian Yue's: "Did you like it, Director Jian?"

"Like it?" Jian Yue felt words were inadequate, her heart trembling. "It was incredible."

"But I've played it many times," Lin Zhengmo said meaningfully. "It doesn't feel special anymore."

"But it's my first time hearing it," Jian Yue decided to be honest. "It was perfect."

Lin Zhengmo's ears reddened, still unaccustomed to such blunt praise.

They stared at each other for seconds, their gazes lingering. The rain outside helped ease the awkwardness.

Jian Yue looked away, searching for a topic: "So you live alone?"

"Yeah."

"What about your partner?" —I'm asking myself.

"She's busy," Lin Zhengmo looked down at her fingers, murmuring: "She spends a lot of time with me, but not really."

"What do you mean?" Jian Yue was confused.

Lin Zhengmo didn't want to elaborate, switching topics: "What about you, Director Jian? I heard from Teacher Zhang..."

"Heard what?" Jian Yue had a bad feeling.

"Teacher Zhang said you're getting married?"