Chapter 022: Where Will You Put It?

Jiang Yao hurried to the door of Chen Shu’s hospital room and found, as expected, that Chen Shu had already woken. Aunt Qin was gripping Chen Shu’s hand, wiping her tears ceaselessly. But Chen Shu’s eyes were fixed, vacant, staring straight at the doorway, where Jiang Yao stood.

Aunt Qin turned her head, saw Jiang Yao, thought for a moment, and got up to stand before her. For the first time, she didn’t scold Jiang Yao.

“Chen Shu is awake now. You don’t need to come anymore. No matter how many times you come, my son Chen Zui won’t come back.”

Her tone was still cold and resentful.

Jiang Yao lowered her head, thought for a moment, then shoved the bag of fruit she’d been carrying into Aunt Qin’s hands and turned away, biting her lip as she left.

Passing the nurses’ station, she overheard two young nurses chatting.

“The patient in that room woke up?”

“Yes, just now. But this is only the beginning—the next phase of treatment, who knows how much it’ll cost.”

Jiang Yao realized they were talking about Chen Shu and unconsciously slowed her steps.

“Didn’t the hospital apply for assistance from the Tianya Medical Relief Fund?”

The other nurse clicked her tongue, “They said he’s one year over the age limit, so Tianya only provided a small portion. The rest—the bulk of the funds—came out of our director’s son’s own pocket, given to Tianya, which then distributed them.”

Jiang Yao stopped in her tracks, turned back to the two nurses. “Excuse me, your director’s son is…?”

The two nurses exchanged a glance and gently shook their heads. “We’re new here, haven’t met him. He rarely comes to the hospital, but we heard he’s both handsome and talented.”

As they spoke, admiration filled their eyes.

Jiang Yao smiled, pondering silently: if she ever had the chance to meet the director’s son, she must thank him properly and repay what he had advanced.

Not long after, “Heart-Piercing” finally began filming.

The weather was bitterly cold, and Ye Yiyi’s costume was always too thin. Whenever Jiang Yao had a moment, she would brew some ginger tea and bring it to her.

“Ah Yao!” Ye Yiyi waved joyfully when she saw Jiang Yao approaching.

Jiang Yao carried a thermos, spotting a woman, face smudged with dust, greeting her.

“What happened?” Jiang Yao drew closer, inspecting Ye Yiyi’s little face, reaching out to wipe it clean.

“Don’t touch.” Ye Yiyi dodged, somewhat aggrieved, quietly gesturing toward another woman in the distance. “It’s intentional makeup—the director said my usual makeup is too eye-catching and steals the spotlight. This is called toned-down makeup.”

Jiang Yao patted Ye Yiyi’s shoulder comfortingly. “I brewed ginger and date tea for you. Drink up.”

Ye Yiyi drank the tea happily. “But Ah Yao, I’m still very happy, because I’m in the same crew as He Yunqing!”

As she spoke, she pointed toward a corner. “Look, he’s resting over there now.”

Jiang Yao followed the direction of Ye Yiyi’s finger. Though a thick pillar blocked the view, she could make out a figure behind it.

Jiang Yao’s eyes darted.

If she brought him a cup of ginger and date tea, perhaps he’d be pleased enough to return the ring.

“Ye Yiyi, it’s your scene now! Why are you still dawdling?” The director started to scold.

Ye Yiyi ran off to film, and Jiang Yao poured a cup of ginger and date tea, quietly approaching the pillar.

Behind the pillar.

He Yunqing lay on a lounge chair, eyes closed gently, seemingly asleep.

Winter sunlight spilled faintly across his handsome face, making his flawless skin seem even more like fine jade.

One hand was tucked behind his head, the other resting casually on the armrest, exuding a lazy tranquility.

Jiang Yao stretched her neck and softly called his name, “He Yunqing.”

The man did not respond.

Jiang Yao exhaled, set the ginger tea on a small stool nearby, and began to steel herself.

“Jiang Yao, taking back your own things is not stealing.”

“Just for a moment—it won’t be noticed.”

Nervously, Jiang Yao smoothed her hair, feeling guilty as she sidled toward He Yunqing and quietly slipped her hand into the outer pocket of his coat.

She rummaged, but found nothing.

Frowning, she rubbed her hands together and moved to the front, crouching before him, stealthily lifting his coat.

With the coat lifted, the breast pocket was revealed.

He Yunqing, on the lounge chair, furrowed his brows.

Jiang Yao didn’t notice, her hand reaching further into the pocket, where indeed there was something.

Her eyes brightened, and she took it out.

It wasn’t the ring she sought, but a delicately crafted brooch in the shape of auspicious clouds, seeming more like a woman’s accessory.

Jiang Yao tilted her head, then put the brooch back where she found it.

She was about to search the other pocket when the man stirred.

Jiang Yao was startled, her mouth falling open, her body tilting dangerously close to collapsing onto him.

Fortunately, he did not wake.

Jiang Yao patted her chest, silently chiding herself—Jiang Yao, you really aren’t cut out for mischief.

Steadying herself, she turned to the other pocket, but again found nothing.

“Sorry,” Jiang Yao muttered, blowing at her bangs, “eyes red from rummaging,” she placed both hands at the man’s waist, searching for the ring.

“Do you need my help?” His magnetic voice came from above.

Jiang Yao instinctively shook her head. “No, I can manage.”

No sooner had she spoken than she realized something was wrong; her scalp tingled.

Slowly, she looked up and met his sharp gaze.

He Yunqing frowned, scrutinizing her, not rushing, as if curious what tricks she might pull next.

“Ah!” Jiang Yao exclaimed softly, completely losing her balance, one hand pressed against his firm chest.

She could feel his strong heartbeat beneath her palm; embarrassed, she forced a smile, propping herself up with her other arm, not realizing it rested in a most inappropriate place…

“Where are you putting your hand?”

Jiang Yao looked down, stared at her own hand, froze for two seconds, then became mortified, wishing she could disappear into the earth.

“Ah!” She cried out again.

He Yunqing frowned.

“S-sorry, I just came to bring you some ginger tea… heh… ginger tea…”

Jiang Yao stammered, knowing she must look terribly awkward.

She had intended to use the tea to coax him into returning the ring, but now, she had thoroughly offended him.

“I—I’ll get up now.”

As she tried to rise, the man suddenly pulled her into his arms, wrapping them both tightly in his thick coat.

Jiang Yao’s slender body collided with his, her heart once again racing uncontrollably.

She’d always said it—she must be ill…