Chapter 8: A Hopeless Romantic

Despite a momentary flicker of panic, she had, after all, been thoroughly refined under the formidable tutelage of that young lady.

Now, she possessed the composure to remain utterly unshaken, even if Mount Tai itself were to crumble before her.

“I had always assumed girls your age were rather demure, yet you’ve proven surprisingly forthright. Are you, then, a person who approaches life with such initiative?”

Yan Miqing, feigning an air of nonchalance, deftly steered the conversation.

“I don’t believe so. However, when faced with someone I truly care for, I imagine I would instinctively become more proactive. After all, too much rigidity might just send a potential girlfriend running off.”

Bearing in mind that individuals in professions such as medicine and law often appreciated straightforwardness, Qian Surou offered a candid response, subtly lacing her words with a hint of playful banter.

“However, as this marks our very first encounter, I find myself rather partial to the charm of a first meeting… an exchange imbued with a touch of polite distance.”

A sudden thought struck Yan Miqing: phrasing it thus would gracefully sidestep most avenues for physical contact, all while she discreetly committed Qian Surou’s response to memory.

The young lady had dispatched her not merely because she was heterosexual, but also with the explicit purpose of dissecting the other’s preferences and meticulously gathering intelligence.

The terrifyingly obsessive individual intended to make her move only after every conceivable preparation had been made.

“Surou, is there someone you fancy at school? I’m curious to know what kind of girls catch your eye.”

Driven by her desire to unearth information, Yan Miqing purposefully dropped back half a pace, feigning admiration for the spherical topiary and vibrant blossoms lining the path, occasionally bending to inhale their delicate fragrance.

She sensed Qian Surou had also paused, now observing her from the side.

Qian Surou had not anticipated such a degree of youthful innocence from her companion; the woman had refused even the most innocuous touch, such as holding hands, and seemed utterly absorbed in appreciating the garden, leaving Qian Surou no opportunity to offer any commentary.

One hundred and fifty an hour—what a lavish expenditure.

Qian Surou found herself empathetically considering the other woman’s perspective.

Bathed in the sunlight, the graceful curve of her exposed neck gleamed even more luminously than the surrounding blossoms.

Qian Surou believed that a slightly older partner would pose no issue, for she herself had not been particularly young before her transmigration; however, she harbored no intention of selecting a partner from among her clients.

This particular question landed perfectly within her expectations, as portraying a devoted ‘ji-you’ did not exclusively require the presence of the female lead; the current situation served as an apt example.

“Indeed… she is a person brimming with vitality, ever optimistic, and profoundly conscientious.”

While mentioning other women in front of a potential partner was generally ill-advised, given their superficial acquaintance, it served to establish her desired persona.

Furthermore, the individual in question was not an ex-girlfriend, but simply a romance that had faded without truly blossoming.

Yan Miqing, still crouched, tilted her head to observe Qian Surou’s face, and an unsettling premonition immediately seized her.

For what she saw was not the bashful blush of a girl experiencing first love, but rather the profound melancholia of one lost in cherished memories, haunted by an unrequited affection.

Just then, a gentle breeze stirred, causing her soft, pink hair to cling closely to her cheek, cascading down to her collarbone.

Through the delicate strands, one could faintly perceive a strained smile and an unwavering glint of defiance in her eyes.

The girl idly swept aside her long hair, her gaze seeming to transcend the immediate space, drifting towards some distant, unseen horizon.

‘Oh no, she’s a hopeless romantic!’

“And what of others, apart from her?”

“Others, you ask…”

A silence stretched between them for a full seven seconds.

Yan Miqing was now convinced: this girl had clearly never entertained the notion of liking anyone else, and was currently struggling to formulate a suitably vague response.

“Hmm, someone beautiful and steadfast, I suppose. And it would certainly be a bonus if they were wealthy.”

A perfectly conventional response.

If one were to use this answer as a template, the young lady in question would align perfectly.

Yet, precisely because it was such a perfectly ideal, standardized answer, it held little genuine weight.

It merely indicated that the girl was contemplating her response from a ‘typical person’s’ viewpoint, rather than her own authentic desires, rendering it utterly devoid of any true insight.

Yan Miqing was now convinced: the young lady desired not merely to possess the person, but to capture their very heart, a task whose difficulty was far from negligible.

If it were merely a matter of acquiring the person, a generous sum of money would undoubtedly suffice; after all, she was already in a position where she needed to date strangers for financial gain.

Unless her motivations stemmed from a desire for thrills, a significant downturn in her family’s circumstances was all but confirmed.

“Could it be, then, that you were… rejected?”

Yan Miqing purposefully laced her query with a touch of polite curiosity.

From a mere client’s standpoint, one would certainly not wish to delve into the romantic history of their date.

Thus, she resolved to cast herself as a quasi-elderly confidante, aiming to guide the conversation with utmost warmth and offer a few seemingly sagacious pieces of advice.

“Indeed, it appears to have been merely a one-sided affection on my part. Any proactive steps would only serve to burden them further. Um… is it truly appropriate for us to be discussing such sensitive topics?”

Yan Miqing offered an encouraging smile.

“I confess, I find the emotional lives of young people rather fascinating… So, if I understand correctly, the object of your affection is heterosexual, isn’t that right? I’ve had similar experiences myself; even when momentarily swayed by profound devotion, they invariably find their way back into the arms of a man…”

These, of course, were experiences conjured entirely from her imagination.

She allowed a natural touch of wistfulness to color her demeanor, lending an air of profound authenticity to her words.

The unspoken message was clear: ‘Give up; loving a straight woman is a fruitless endeavor.’

“Heterosexual, you say…”

A sudden surge of bitterness welled within Qian Surou.

‘If only she truly were heterosexual, then perhaps the sting of defeat would not feel quite so potent…’

With so many women in the world, any of them could have been a possibility, yet she alone seemed to possess no chance whatsoever.

Unless some cursed author or the very will of the world was secretly orchestrating this, then Ji Yushu must possess an absolute, unshakeable reason for never choosing her.

But even if she were to uncover such a reason, what true difference would it make?

Whether one perished by slit wrist or by plummeting from a great height, the sole distinction lay in the degree of dignity afforded to the end.

After a moment of contemplation, she mused that perhaps it would be simpler to simply regard Ji Yushu as heterosexual.

Adopting a facade of casualness, she then remarked,

“I hadn’t anticipated that you would be the one offering me guidance. Nevertheless, I assure you, I am quite alright now… truly, I am. If she genuinely is heterosexual, I will undoubtedly persuade myself to abandon hope swiftly.”

The repetition, the conditional ‘if,’ and the urgency of ‘swiftly’ were all tell-tale signs.

Yan Miqing felt an urge to cover her face; this was clearly not the resolve of someone planning to give up!

‘Ugh, money is hard to earn, and this is truly a tough pill to swallow!’

“It’s excellent that you can adopt such a mindset. I confess, I’m quite intrigued: why would a girl of your considerable advantages—someone, in my estimation, who appears utterly perfect—choose to pursue this particular line of work?”

Qian Surou’s expression clouded with a hint of distress. “I require funds,” she stated simply.

Yan Miqing’s gaze swept over the youthful and radiant Qian Surou, assessing her from head to toe.

Her slender, yet not delicate, figure was adorned in a jacquard silk chiffon dress, its waist cinched by a charming bow.

Lace trimmings embellished the seams, subtly hinting at a veiled allure. Coupled with her radiant, sharply defined features, she possessed a beauty capable of captivating any observer.

The skirt’s hem nearly brushed her ankles, yet her pale, slender ankles were revealed by white sandals, their graceful curve inviting one to imagine the flawless legs concealed beneath the fabric.

Her youthful, exquisite features seemed to merge with the garden’s petals, creating a somewhat languid, late-summer floral tableau.

With her delicate features, gracefully arched brows, and ethereal bearing, she was a vision of such tender beauty that she stirred a protective pity in anyone who beheld her.

Small wonder, then, that Jin Xiaoyue, who typically evinced interest in nothing, had fallen for her to such a passionate, almost obsessive degree.

Qian Surou, for her part, also became aware of this discerning gaze.

“I had initially planned to sell this very outfit, but then I recalled our impending meeting and decided I ought to present myself with at least a modicum of formality.”

The truth was, this ensemble had been a gift from her mother long ago.

Her personal luxuries and presentable attire had long since been listed on second-hand websites.

Because the items were all remarkably new, they had been priced slightly higher, and while she had intended to lower the prices further, most had unexpectedly sold. She could only attribute this success to her discerning taste.

Fearing she might not be well-received, Qian Surou had even tied a purple ribbon into the left side of her hair and spent time styling a fluffy ponytail.

Though her pink hair felt a little awkward, with everyone else sporting various colorful hair, it didn’t seem quite so peculiar.

Moreover, the fact that she could carry off pink hair suggested her appearance was certainly above average.

“That truly pleases me.” Yan Miqing swiftly shifted the conversation. “Might we discuss other things? For instance, your favorite hobbies, foods, and activities. I find the interests of young women quite fascinating.”

“You are quite young yourself, you know.”

This was no mere flattery; Qian Surou genuinely believed it.

She gestured towards a nearby white arched bench, inviting Yan Miqing to sit beneath the spherical arbor, having noticed her companion was wearing high heels and seemed unaccustomed to them.

Perhaps her own personality had been subtly shaped by her original body’s upbringing, making thoughtfulness an instinct.

She didn’t dislike this trait; on the contrary, she found herself comfortable with people like her, and if she could extend that comfort to others, she was more than willing to do so.