22. Watching Him Dote on Someone Else with My Own Eyes

Su Yiyi cried for a long time, and Ji Qingran listened silently for equally long.

In the end, she heard Lu Tingyuan sneer lightly, “Ji Qingran, her English is terrible.”

He paused briefly, then smiled faintly at the little girl, “You’re not stupid at all, much better than her.”

Ji Qingran sat there, her hands and feet icy cold as she absorbed his words, her expression numb, betraying not a flicker of emotion.

Unlike Su Yiyi, who could shed tears effortlessly, Ji Qingran never learned how to cry or act coquettishly to win others’ sympathy with her vulnerability.

Because no one would pity her.

In truth, Lu Tingyuan was right—her English was indeed dreadful, shockingly so.

Before she turned twelve, she lived with her foster parents in modest circumstances, attending a public school of average quality. Her English was entirely self-taught and terribly inadequate.

When she later came to the Ji family and heard Ji Wanrou speak fluent English, she couldn’t help but envy her.

But that was all she could do—envy.

Chen Yuru had wanted to hire a tutor to help her with English, but Ji Wanrou was displeased, so the idea was abandoned.

If not for her talent in dance, she might not have even gotten into university.

Yet even after all her efforts to enter, she was ultimately rejected.

Her only escape was to study abroad.

So, despite her poor English, she begged Lu Tingyuan to send her overseas.

She had heard somewhere that practicing speaking with a stone in her mouth could make her pronunciation sound more authentic.

She believed it, holding a pebble in her mouth every day, practicing until her mouth was full of painful blisters. She would spit blood whenever she opened her mouth, the pain so intense she couldn’t even drink cold porridge, yet she gritted her teeth and persisted.

Even now, she clearly remembered the pain in Lu Tingyuan’s eyes when he saw her mouth covered in blood.

She hadn’t thought it was that painful herself—she was used to it; pain could be endured. But seeing him distressed because of her, she gradually began to truly feel the hurt.

He applied medicine gently, careful not to hurt her.

As he did, his eyes grew moist and his voice quivered as he said, “Ranran, seeing you like this hurts me more than it hurts you.”

He only said that once, never again afterward. Yet for some reason, she remembered those words clearly all these years.

Perhaps it was because she had so rarely received such tenderness.

Even if brief, she struggled to engrave it in her memory.

She envied Su Yiyi deeply—envied how she always had someone to protect her.

But she had no one.

So she envied.

Deeply envied.

To the point of jealousy.

Suddenly, Ji Qingran recalled how she had seen her pale, lifeless reflection in the bathroom mirror just moments ago.

That was her face.

She thought, no wonder Lu Tingyuan preferred Su Yiyi—who wouldn’t like such a vibrant, radiant face?

Who would want to face a dull, uninteresting face like hers every day?

That was why he grew tired of her.

The more she thought, the more her eyes grew moist.

She tried to hold back, tilting her head slightly, but tears slipped quietly down, falling to the ground and vanishing into the dust without a trace.

See, even her tears dared only to fall silently.

In front of others, she had to present a calm, unruffled facade, never revealing weakness to anyone.

Ji Qingran allowed herself only a few seconds of vulnerability.

When the time was up, she wiped away her tears and crossed the green lawn.

“Jiang Yao said to have lunch together at noon.”

Ji Qingran spoke without emotion, mechanically informing the two who stood close together.

She watched Su Yiyi sit up from Lu Tingyuan’s embrace and, out of his line of sight, flash her a displeased look.

The little girl was annoyed with her for interrupting the date with Lu Tingyuan.

Ji Qingran showed no expression as she withdrew her gaze and turned to leave.

Lu Tingyuan called her back.

She turned and saw him sitting on a bench, sunlight filtering through tall trees, casting dappled shadows over him, sharpening his already striking features. His shirt collar was casually unbuttoned at two buttons, revealing a graceful collarbone.

He lifted his head slightly, legs crossed, one hand resting on his knee, the other placed gently on Su Yiyi’s back, protecting her carefully.

His usually indifferent expression softened by the presence of the girl beside him, warmth flickering between his brows.

The two sat close, almost leaning into each other, their posture intimate.

She felt like a voyeur, peering at tenderness that would forever be beyond her reach.

“What’s the matter?” she asked without expression.

“I have a meeting this afternoon, won’t join you for lunch. Take good care of Yiyi.”

Ji Qingran remained silent. Su Yiyi pouted, grabbing Lu Tingyuan’s hand and shaking it.

“Senior Brother, you won’t stay with me? Really not staying? Then what am I supposed to do when I miss you?”

Lu Tingyuan glanced down at her, his tone unconsciously indulgent, “I’ll come pick you up after work.”

Ji Qingran watched this scene expressionlessly.

Lu Tingyuan was always a man who kept others at arm’s length, rarely allowing anyone close, no matter how familiar.

His tolerance of Su Yiyi’s childish clinginess now only proved one thing—he truly doted on her.

Exclusively.

Su Yiyi insisted on seeing Lu Tingyuan off, but he worried the little girl might get lost and insisted Ji Qingran accompany them.

Walking behind alone, she watched the girl link arms with him, her face blooming with smiles.

At the park gate, he ruffled her hair, and after promising something unknown, the girl happily wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Senior Brother, you can’t lie to me!”

“All right.” He pinched her nose, making a solemn promise.

Ji Qingran glanced once, then looked away.

His small affectionate gestures could be for her or for someone else—it was entirely up to his preference.

When his car arrived, she voluntarily gave up her seat, leaving the farewell to Su Yiyi.

Yet Lu Tingyuan said to her, “I’ll come find you tonight.”

Ji Qingran said nothing.

He had stood her up for Su Yiyi more than once.

She hardly dared to believe him.

Lu Tingyuan chuckled softly, promising, “I’ll definitely come tonight. Wait for me.”

Ji Qingran nodded and replied simply, “Okay.”

She wasn’t feeling well that day, her work progress unsatisfactory, forcing her to stay late to finish.

Afraid he might get upset waiting too long, she messaged him immediately.

“I’m at the office. If you’re not coming, just let me know anytime.”

He replied, “Wait for me.”

And so she waited—until nearly midnight.

Actually, she had finished her work long ago, but without receiving his call, she dared not leave, fearing a last-minute change of plans and missing him. She stayed on, carrying out tomorrow’s tasks ahead of schedule.

Eventually, exhausted, she wanted to ask if he was still coming, so she could leave if not.

But by mistake, she clicked into Su Yiyi’s social media.

There she discovered that tonight, Su Yiyi had enjoyed a candlelight dinner, watched a romantic movie, and visited a popular ice cream shop.

Her night was full of excitement.

In the center photo of a nine-grid collage, two hands were clasped together, each wrist adorned with a handcrafted amethyst bracelet.

Su Yiyi’s caption read: “Doing happy things with the one I like.”

Ji Qingran’s hand hovered over the like button, hesitating, unable to press it.