Chapter 021: Heart Racing Fiercely

In the end, Jiang Yao never did get the ring. Disgruntled, she called a cab and headed home alone.

Her mind felt fit to burst, crammed full of thoughts. All the way back, He Yunqing’s voice echoed in her ears—asking which man had given her the ring, saying he didn’t want to draw boundaries with her, explaining he didn’t smoke, rarely drank, and certainly wasn’t the type to fall from grace…

“So noisy!” Jiang Yao pressed her hands to her head, ruffling her already messy hair even further.

Up front, the driver, glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing only Jiang Yao in the back seat, shrank his neck in alarm…

Beside the snail noodle hotpot restaurant, in a red sports car, He Yunqing sat in the back seat, lightly rubbing the ring between his fingers, his gaze as deep and impenetrable as an abyss.

“So, that’s why you waited so long?” The fashionable woman in the driver’s seat rested one hand lightly on the steering wheel, her voice soft as a spring breeze. “Is this a new woman you’ve found?”

Her tone was gentle and pleasing, like a caress of warm air.

He Yunqing unconsciously rubbed his wrist.

“Did you hurt yourself fighting over that wallet with the other man?” A knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Yunqing, you never used to get into fights.”

He Yunqing opened his coat and carefully tucked the ring into the pocket over his heart. “People change. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” The woman blinked, momentarily surprised.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to go home?”

She smiled with quiet satisfaction, started the engine, and drove away.

When Jiang Yao returned home, she found Ye Yiyi sitting alone on the balcony, lost in thought.

Jiang Yao walked over and quietly sat beside her. Now, instead of one person dazing on the balcony, there were two.

Who knew how long passed before Ye Yiyi finally spoke. “A-Yao, do you think money really can solve everything?”

Jiang Yao turned blankly to look at Ye Yiyi. “Huh?”

Ye Yiyi lowered her head, twisting the hem of her shirt, a hint of grievance in her voice. “The cast for ‘Piercing Heart’ is finalized. I’m not the third female lead anymore.”

“How could that be?” Jiang Yao was surprised. Ye Yiyi, though a little too naïve, had both beauty and talent.

Ye Yiyi sighed softly. “My agent said the role was mine, but right before filming started, an investor put someone in for the third female lead. Now…I’m just the maid to the third lead.”

Jiang Yao reached out, wrapped Ye Yiyi in a gentle embrace, and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Yiyi. You’re still young. There will be plenty more chances.”

She truly felt for Ye Yiyi. All these years, she’d witnessed every hardship Ye Yiyi endured to become a good actress.

“That’s right. Isn’t it true, there are no small roles, only small actors?” Ye Yiyi straightened up and smiled at Jiang Yao. “I won’t give up.”

Her smile was bright and adorable, and Jiang Yao felt that having Ye Yiyi in her life was a blessing.

“But what about you, A-Yao? You seem off today.”

Jiang Yao pressed her hand lightly to her chest and murmured, “Me? I think I might be ill.”

“What? Where do you feel unwell?”

“Here.” Jiang Yao pointed to her heart. “Today it’s been pounding, all day long. Did you hear it beating?”

Ye Yiyi leaned over and listened to her chest, then sat back and blinked in confusion at Jiang Yao.

The next day, Jiang Yao went to the hospital to have her heart checked.

A middle-aged doctor with large, thick glasses frowned intently at her test results.

“Doctor, is it serious?” Jiang Yao asked nervously, watching his expression.

The doctor looked up at her. “Miss Jiang, I must tell you, according to these results, your heart…”

“It’s severe?”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong.” The doctor suddenly smiled. “As for the palpitations you mentioned, I can’t see anything unusual. I suspect it’s all psychological—maybe you’re under too much stress lately?”

Jiang Yao tugged at her hair. “Is that so?”

“I’ll prescribe something to help soothe your nerves. If you still feel discomfort, I recommend seeing a psychologist.”

Jiang Yao thanked him, pressing her hand once more to her heart.

Then, as usual, she went to visit Aunt Qin and Chen Shu.

Before she reached the ward, she spotted a thin figure approaching from afar.

Her mother looked even thinner than before.

Jiang Yao instinctively took a step back.

Her mother’s eyes dimmed further at Jiang Yao’s reaction. She hurriedly waved her hands in explanation. “Don’t misunderstand. I know you don’t want to see me; I have no other intentions.”

She walked over to the bench by the corridor and gently set down the lunchbox she’d been holding.

“I just wanted to give you this,” her mother said, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry for everything in the past. I made some osmanthus cakes, just try one.”

She turned, about to hurry away.

Watching her mother’s retreating figure, Jiang Yao was suddenly transported back in time.

Her mother had always left in haste, always leaving behind this same silhouette.

“Jiang Zhihua, you’re only touching yourself with these gestures!” Jiang Yao clenched her fists. “You’re always running away!”

Her mother’s body stiffened and she stopped in her tracks.

“Do you think making things for me now will make me happy like when I was a child? I’m not a little girl anymore. I don’t cheer up just because I get to eat something nice!” Jiang Yao’s voice trembled. “When I needed you, you weren’t there. Now that I don’t need you, what good does it do—no matter how much you give?”

Her mother turned to look at her, tears streaming down her face…

She gazed at her daughter for a moment through blurred eyes, then turned and fled once more.

Jiang Yao sniffled; she had long since given up hope in her mother.

The mother who always ran away, whose favorite phrase was, “There’s nothing I can do…”

Yet she still gently picked up the box of osmanthus cakes.

When she looked up again, she thought she saw a woman stepping out of Chen Shu’s hospital room.

Jiang Yao frowned, wondering if she’d imagined it.

In her memory, the Chen family had few relatives or friends, let alone a woman like this.

The woman looked to be in her thirties, impeccably dressed—not a great beauty, but strikingly refined.

Her high heels clicked crisply across the floor as she passed by Jiang Yao and walked on.

Jiang Yao watched her go, a strange sense of unease blooming in her chest.

Not long after, Aunt Qin’s voice rang out behind her, “Doctor, nurse, Shu is awake—he’s finally awake!”