If It’s Wrong, Then It’s Wrong - Chapter 89

Chapter 89: The Thirty-Second Day

Ji Chaozhou stood before the display board, his hand resting on the glass, looking at the photo. He turned to Cheng Liu: "I want this photo." He wanted to keep this most authentic version of her.

Cheng Liu rarely kept photos, especially casual ones like this, taken at the teacher's request. She thought for a moment: "I'll ask my homeroom teacher. She might still have a copy."

They walked towards the teaching building. Cheng Liu wasn't sentimental about the past, but she was curious about Ji Chaozhou's.

"What were you like in high school?" she asked, picturing a handsome young man quietly reading.

Ji Chaozhou, looking down at their clasped hands: "Ordinary." His high school years had been dull and lonely. He hadn’t interacted with anyone.

Cheng Liu looked at him, clearly not believing him. She laughed: "I was ordinary in high school too."

The two “ordinary” people entered the teaching building, stopping in front of an office on the first floor. The door was open. A middle-aged female teacher sat at her desk, writing lesson plans. Cheng Liu knocked on the door: “Teacher.”

“Come in,” the teacher said, looking up, pushing her glasses up her nose. A look of surprise crossed her face as she stood up. "Cheng Liu? What brings you back?"

"Just taking a few days off for the holiday," Cheng Liu said, still holding Ji Chaozhou's hand, pulling him into the office. "Teacher, do you still have that photo from the display board? I'd like a copy."

The homeroom teacher's gaze was drawn to Ji Chaozhou, noticing their clasped hands, but she didn't ask, simply pushing her glasses back up: “That photo of you? I have it. Just a moment.”

She opened a drawer, retrieving a mooncake tin from the back. Inside was a paper bag, which contained a dozen or so photos of Cheng Liu.

“The administration asks for a photo every year,” the teacher said, selecting three different ones. “I rotate them annually.”

Ji Chaozhou stood beside Cheng Liu, watching their exchange. The teacher clearly remembered Cheng Liu vividly, even after ten years, recalling details from her high school days.

“I still remember how hard you worked,” the teacher said, a hint of fondness in her voice.

There were many talented and hardworking students, but few like Cheng Liu, who excelled in every aspect and maintained good relationships with everyone.

Within a year of her arrival, the entire school had known about Cheng Liu, every teacher predicting her future success, which had come to pass.

Having been Cheng Liu’s homeroom teacher for three years, she had always found her to be exceptionally capable, almost too precise in her interactions, as if she could see through everyone.

She had thought Cheng Liu was emotionally detached, only able to maintain that cheerful façade and cater to everyone’s needs by suppressing her own feelings.

But…

Looking at the two young people before her, their subtle gestures and unspoken communication, the teacher thought perhaps she had been mistaken. A truly indifferent person wouldn’t be so attuned to another’s emotions.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” the teacher asked Cheng Liu.

“Thank you, Teacher,” Cheng Liu said, handing the three photos to Ji Chaozhou. “We have something to do later. We won’t be able to make it.”

“That’s alright. Come visit when you have time,” the teacher said.

“I will,” Cheng Liu said.

They left the teaching building. Ji Chaozhou carefully placed the passport-sized photos in a tissue, wrapping them up.

Cheng Liu, watching him, suggested, “We can buy a photo album later. One photo of you, one of me, side by side.”

Ji Chaozhou looked at her: “Do you have many photos?”

He had a separate album filled with photos Yun Se had taken, but Cheng Liu probably didn't. Otherwise, she would have shown them to him.

“…Photos aren't important. I can print one and put it next to yours,” CEO Cheng said, wanting to be close to him, even in photo form.

“Chief Assistant He might have some photos of you from university,” Ji Chaozhou said casually.

Cheng Liu considered it, nodding: “He Bai did like taking photos back then. I’ll ask him when we get back.”

Ji Chaozhou, calm and composed, while CEO Cheng, completely smitten, oblivious to her own role in his plan, even suggested, “I’m quite good at Photoshop. I can edit us together. That way, we can be ‘together’ in university too.”

CEO Cheng was eager to show off their relationship, already planning to post the edited photos on Moments.

Ji Chaozhou, suppressing a smile, his voice indifferent: “It wouldn't be appropriate to crop out He Bai and replace him with me.”

Cheng Liu, puzzled: “I’ll crop everyone out.”

Ji Chaozhou, seizing the opportunity: “You don’t have any photos together, just the two of you?”

“I don't think so,” Cheng Liu said, thinking back. She usually only took group photos, for celebrations or special occasions.

Ji Chaozhou, having obtained the information he wanted, didn’t ask any more questions. If He Bai had any photos of them together, he would have posted them.

…

Leaving No. 1 High School, Cheng Liu drove along the highway, the crowds thinning as they left the city. The road stretched before them, seemingly endless, the world shrinking to just the two of them, surrounded by green rice paddies swaying in the wind.

Ji Chaozhou, one arm around Cheng Liu’s waist, lifted his other hand, pushing up the visor of his helmet. He looked at the passing fields, the wind blowing in his face, feeling a strange sense of connection to her past, as if he had traveled back in time, sharing her world.

As villages appeared on either side of the road, Cheng Liu slowed down, pointing: “That’s where my school used to be.”

Ji Chaozhou looked. There was no trace of the school left, the buildings replaced by new houses.

Cheng Liu didn't stop, continuing along a narrow path, finally stopping beneath a small dam.

She looked up at it, smiling: “It hasn’t changed. It just looks smaller than I remember.”

Cheng Liu climbed up the embankment, then turned, reaching for Ji Chaozhou’s hand: “I used to come here a lot when I was younger.”

Ji Chaozhou took her hand, stepping onto the dam.

Wild grass grew along the sides. From the top, they could see the farmland below.

Ji Chaozhou followed Cheng Liu, watching her. Her usual cheerfulness had faded, replaced by a quiet silence. He felt this might be the most authentic version of her.

“I liked to sit here and look down, look up,” Cheng Liu said, stopping, pulling Ji Chaozhou down beside her.

Ji Chaozhou sat beside her, quietly listening.

“But mostly, I liked to look up,” Cheng Liu said, tilting her head back, pointing at the sky. “Look, a bird.”

Ji Chaozhou followed her gaze. The clear blue sky, unobstructed by tall buildings, a white bird soaring above.

Cheng Liu, her hands behind her back, watching the bird: “I used to wonder where they went.”

She had always been perceptive, attuned to the world around her, skilled at reading people, but limited by her circumstances, like someone trapped at the bottom of a well.

Back then, Cheng Liu had longed for the freedom of the birds in the sky. She had wanted to see the world outside.

But her parents were preoccupied with their struggles, her peers couldn’t understand her, and she had been alone in her world.

So, she had sat there, looking up at the sky, counting the birds, as if she could fly with them, see the world from above.

Years later, she had left, seen the world, no longer trapped, and she had thought that yearning had long vanished.

Now, she realized she wanted to share her world with someone. And that person was sitting beside her.

Ji Chaozhou, mimicking her posture, his right hand moving closer to hers, gently covering it.

Cheng Liu turned, their eyes meeting.

The afternoon sun was warm, the wind carrying the scent of grass. They sat there, hands clasped, shoulders touching, sharing a quiet, sweet kiss, their shadows merging.

…

After a long while, Cheng Liu suddenly took out her phone, wanting a photo of them together: “Those business partners are all posting about their holiday trips. I want to post one too.” Of course, their focus was on being in pairs.

Ji Chaozhou didn’t comment on why she wasn't taking a photo of the scenery, letting her take a selfie with him.

So, the ever-competitive CEO Cheng successfully captured a photo of them together, posting it on Moments with the caption: [Such a beautiful view :D].

Feng Shi, having just returned from Z Province, scrolled past the post, then clicked on it, speechless. What view? Just two people, and the photo wasn’t even good.

As he continued scrolling, seeing similar couple-themed posts from Li Dong and others, he finally realized Cheng Liu was showing off.

CEO Feng was suddenly acutely aware of the world’s malice towards single people.

He Bai, still recovering from his injury, in S City, also saw Cheng Liu's post and abruptly stood up, only to fall back into his wheelchair from the pain in his toe.

May Day, and Cheng Liu had posted about Ji Chaozhou again!

What beautiful view? Having worked with Cheng Liu for so many years, He Bai knew exactly what she meant. She was clearly saying Ji Chaozhou was beautiful.

He Bai had never been so jealous of a man's looks.

His hopes, already shattered, were now being trampled on repeatedly.

He Bai, gripping his phone, frustrated and unable to vent, contacted the guru again, transferring another hundred thousand yuan.

Client #7: [Can I just…talk to you? One hundred thousand.]

Wang Hongyang, seeing the transfer, sat up. He still harbored resentment towards He Bai, knowing he had deliberately interfered with his dates with Cheng Liu.

But money talks.

Guru: [Of course.]

Client #7: [She never liked taking photos. Now she’s taking selfies with him, even posting them. Does she like him that much? Just because he's good-looking?]

He Bai typed each word with force, venting his frustration.

Wang Hongyang, his face covered in cucumber slices, munched on half a cucumber. Just good-looking? Was that all Ji Chaozhou was?

But he was being paid to offer comfort.

Guru: [She’s clearly shallow!]

Client #7: [She’s not shallow. Just…blinded by love.]

Wang Hongyang rolled his eyes: [I think you should go out more, clear your head.]

Client #7: [I have a broken toe. I can’t go anywhere.]

Guru: [Then get some more rest.]

He Bai, still unwilling to accept it: [I’ve been by her side for so many years. In just a month, she’s fallen for someone else.]

Wang Hongyang, taking a large bite of his cucumber, couldn’t understand this self-sacrificing devotion: [Are you the only chief assistant she can have? She can easily replace you, can’t she?]

He Bai: “…”

The guru’s blunt words stripped away his last shred of hope.

Cheng Liu simply didn’t like him. She hadn’t even noticed him. Anyone could be her chief assistant. No matter how long he stayed by her side, she wouldn’t look back.

Client #7: [Thank you. Goodbye.]

Explore Previous Contents Next

Support my work!

Become a Patron Buy me a Coffee