Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

Time slipped by, second by second. Zhao Ying still stood at the window, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the world outside. Suddenly her whole body gave a violent shudder, and she nearly lost her footing and dropped straight to the floor. She had seen Yang Ce—but Yang Ce was holding Wang Yanqiu's hand, the two of them walking over, chatting and laughing.

Zhao Ying felt her breath catch, her mind go blank. She just stood there, dazed, watching Yang Ce and Wang Yanqiu pass in front of the villa together and then go into Wang Yanqiu's house. Only then did she come back to herself, face pale, one hand braced against the wall, her heart churning as if a five-flavor bottle had been overturned inside it, tears beginning to swim in her eyes. "Miss Zhao, what's wrong?" Auntie Li asked, seeing that her expression and bearing were all wrong.

"N-nothing," Zhao Ying said with a miserable shake of her head. "I'm just a little dizzy."

"Then sit and rest on the sofa a while," Auntie Li urged. "I'll go fix you something to eat, or—"

"Really, there's no need, Auntie Li." Zhao Ying sat down on the sofa and shook her head, her face bleak. How could she possibly have any appetite for food now?

Looking at the little box in her hand, Zhao Ying did not know what to do. Why? Why did both Yang Ce and Wang Yanqiu have to lie to her? They were plainly already together, yet both of them had lied and told her there was nothing between them. Zhao Ying bit her lip, at a loss. They were holding hands already—could that really mean there was nothing else between them? But then again, that did not prove anything. That was the only comfort Zhao Ying could give herself.

Maybe they really were just friends, and holding hands was all it was—there was nothing wrong with good friends holding hands, surely. She and Yan had been good friends once too, and had they not held hands as well?

"Miss Zhao, it really is very late. Why don't you give Mr. Yang a call, or—" Auntie Li said, a little worried.

"No. I'll wait for him here." Zhao Ying sighed. Deep in her heart there still lingered a sliver of illusion—the illusion that Yang Ce had only gone to Wang Yanqiu's house as a guest, and would be back in a little while.

Auntie Li shook her head helplessly. But she was only a nanny; she had no right to interfere in or inquire about Mr. Yang's affairs. Otherwise she would have called Yang Ce herself.

The night was very still.

Zhao Ying sat alone on the living-room sofa, and every so often Auntie Li would come out and brew her a cup of hot tea.

A little embarrassed, Zhao Ying said to her, "Auntie Li, you don't need to look after me. Go and rest."

"I'm fine. I used to nurse the sick, so I'm used to a life of waking and sleeping in fits and starts," Auntie Li said with an indifferent smile.

Time slipped quietly away. Unnoticed, most of the night had passed, and still Yang Ce had not come back.

Looking over at Wang Yanqiu's villa beside them, the lights were already out. Zhao Ying's nose stung and tears came pattering down. Hearing a sound behind her, she hurriedly wiped her tears dry and turned to look—it was Auntie Li coming over with a cup of oatmeal. "Have some oatmeal. You haven't eaten a thing—you really can't go on like this."

"Thank you." Seeing that Auntie Li had already set the oatmeal before her, Zhao Ying had no choice but to take it and drink it slowly. The oatmeal was fragrant and sweet, but to Zhao Ying it had no taste at all.

The little hope left in her heart dwindled away, and at last Zhao Ying sighed. It seemed Yang Ce was not coming back tonight.

The edge of the sky had already taken on a faint whiteness. The day had finally broken; the night was over.

Zhao Ying sighed, looked at the little box in her hand, and set it down on the tea table beside her. Then she thought better of it and picked it up again, and so back and forth several times, until at last she took it back into her hand and said to Auntie Li, "Auntie Li, I'm leaving."

"Oh, Miss Zhao, you're going?" Auntie Li sighed too, and came out to see her off.

To be continued

1030. Uncle Chen's Phone Call

Yang Duoran had no idea that so much had happened in his own home overnight.

He stretched and looked at Wang Yanqiu, fast asleep beside him, and smiled faintly. The two of them really were growing more and more in tune with each other. He got up and headed toward the bathroom, deciding to take a hot shower first.

A ringtone sounded—his own phone. Yang Ce glanced at the caller ID: it was actually a call from Chen Shutang's house. His heart instantly gave a guilty lurch. He tiptoed into the bathroom before answering. "Wife, calling so early in the morning—missing your husband, are you?"

"Yang Ce, this is your Uncle Chen." The voice on the other end was Chen Fei's.

"Ah?" Yang Ce was thoroughly mortified. No way—it was actually Chen Fei calling? What could Uncle Chen want with him at such an early hour? A little awkwardly he said, "Uncle Chen! Ha, good morning."

"Mm, good morning." Chen Fei spoke with a hint of a smile that was not quite a smile. "Yang Ce, this won't do at all—you think only of Mengyan and forget all about your Uncle Chen."

"How could I?" Yang Ce said, a little embarrassed. "I just didn't expect you to call me from the house phone, Uncle Chen. I thought you'd use your cell."

"My cell's out of battery—it's charging in the study, so I didn't bother going to get it," Chen Fei said. "All right, Yang Ce, let's talk a little business."

"What business?" Yang Ce asked, startled.

"I hear you're the one who caught Chen Afu. Not bad—quite impressive." Chen Fei's voice was full of admiration. "Looks like your Uncle Chen never misjudged you."

"Ah, you know about that too?" Yang Ce was not particularly surprised. After all, Chen Afu had not been caught by the police—the Mystery Investigation Bureau had handed the credit over to the police—but some of the police leadership would certainly know the truth of the matter. Someone like Uncle Chen, who was both head of the criminal investigation team and a deputy director, would naturally know more than most.

It was just that he had given the credit to Xia Xue and not to Uncle Chen. Wasn't that a bit much? At the thought, Yang Ce broke out in a sweat of shame.

So Yang Ce hastily spun a line: "I've always been well thought of, haha. No need for Uncle Chen to be surprised."

"I was a little surprised, though—I didn't expect you to join the Bureau as well," Chen Fei said. "Xia Yan kept the purpose of his approach to you from me until you agreed to join, and only then did he tell me the truth."

"Uncle Chen, actually, that credit—it wasn't that I wanted to give it to Xia Xue alone, but..." Yang Ce thought it over and decided he had better explain, or else his father-in-law would think he was feeding outsiders at his own family's expense.

"Ha, that's nothing." Chen Fei laughed. "Your Uncle Chen is this old already—rising to bureau chief is as far as it goes for me. What do I want with that kind of credit? Better to give the young people more chances. Though that fellow Xia Yan is Xia Xue's own elder brother—don't hold it against him. A good thing like that, naturally it goes to his little sister."

Hearing that Chen Fei was not the least displeased and was even making excuses for Xia Yan, Yang Ce breathed a sigh of relief and set his heart at ease.

"I'm glad you're not angry, Uncle Chen," Yang Ce said. "I was afraid you'd be upset."

"Do you take your Uncle Chen for such a petty man?" Chen Fei laughed. "Still, from now on your Uncle Chen's official career will be riding on your father's coattails. These few days around New Year's, going out to dinner with your father, I've been rubbing shoulders with the big provincial leaders."

Hearing Uncle Chen's words, Yang Ce could not help but feel a pang of sentiment. His own father had actually become so worldly and smooth, so effortless and at ease in dealing with officials and businessmen.