Chapter 41: Kissing Those Lips I've Longed For

Soon, the Hucheng University bulletin board exploded.

The post titled "The School’s Number One Beauty from the Industrial Management Department Challenges the Student Union Presidium" broke ten thousand replies in less than half an hour.

Even late at night, the gossip-hungry crowd was on the front lines.

According to the descriptions of those present, the scene could only be described as earth-shattering.

Soon, someone uploaded a live stream recording of the event.

Although she didn't appear on camera herself, everything that should—and shouldn't—have been revealed was out in the open.

—I’ve long been sick of that group in the Student Union. I don’t know where they get off acting so high and mighty. Finally, someone has the guts to stand up and say something.

—I’m a girl, and I absolutely love Ying Jing!

—Do they really think the Student Union is still the same as it used to be? They’re all acting like emperors and princesses.

—That group probably thinks they’re something special just because they have a little bit of money. Seriously?

—They even dared to bully Ying Jing. They must not know about her past track record.

...

Most were speaking up for Ying Jing; the few who tried to smear her were scolded into deleting their posts as soon as they popped up.

The person in question was completely unaware of the bulletin board war she had ignited.

After seeing Jin Qingqing off, Ying Jing sat alone on the steps outside the restaurant, munching on a Cornetto she’d swiped from Qingqing for a few bucks before she left.

Ying Jing was waiting for Assistant Zhang.

Zhang Yang arrived with a bowl of stinky tofu and found her sitting outside.

"Miss Ying, you finished your meal so quickly?" That was incredibly fast! Was she that impatient to see the boss?

Ying Jing pouted and took a big bite of her Cornetto.

"I didn't eat." Ying Jing stared at the stinky tofu in Zhang Yang’s hand and licked her lips. "Assistant Zhang, that looks delicious!"

Stinky tofu—it smells foul, but it tastes divine.

Ying Jing knew this, of course; she had eaten it in her past life, only to be looked down upon by Ying Zenan every time.

"Would you like some, Miss Ying? I can go buy you some!"

Ying Jing shook her head.

Ten minutes later, Assistant Zhang was panicking internally, trembling as he held the stinky tofu, unable to take a bite.

"Miss Ying, why don't I drive? How could I let you go to the trouble?"

"It's fine, I can drive. Assistant Zhang, you go ahead and eat slowly."

He wanted to eat slowly, but could she drive slowly?

His heart, which had been stuck in his throat, finally returned to its place when she parked.

The paper box holding the tofu was soaked through with the sweat from Zhang Yang’s palms.

After getting out of the car, his legs felt a bit weak.

Ying Jing glanced at the sign.

"Assistant Zhang, this place looks pretty good too. Why don't we get a room next door and eat while we wait for Wen Fucheng?"

How could Zhang Yang refuse her suggestion?

Soon, Wen Fucheng knew she was there and even instructed Zhang Yang to take good care of her.

With food in front of her, Ying Jing temporarily forgot about those unpleasant matters.

"If it's not enough, we can order a few more dishes."

Ying Jing nodded while eating the food that had already been served, her finger tapping on the menu a few times. "I almost forgot to ask what you like to eat, Assistant Zhang. Order whatever you want!"

Zhang Yang:...

It wasn't until ten o'clock that Wen Fucheng arrived.

Zhang Yang tactfully left.

The large private room was left with just the two of them.

He sat down beside the young girl, saw her cheeks puffed out like a little squirrel, and poured her a glass of warm water.

"Zhang Yang said you went to a restaurant but didn't end up eating. Did something happen?"

Ying Jing swallowed the last bite and set down her chopsticks.

"Nothing, just that everyone said that place was delicious, but I didn't think so. I went anyway, but in the end, I realized that no one cared about what I liked to eat. So why should I force myself to cater to others' tastes and forget my own? This dish is good, do you want to try it?"

She was clearly in a bad mood.

But since she didn't want to talk about it, Wen Fucheng didn't press her.

Back home, Ying Jing lazily sprawled on the sofa, burying her head in a cushion, looking like she wanted to shut out the rest of the world.

Picking up the phone she had tossed onto the sofa—which had been ringing for who knows how long—Wen Fucheng walked over and knelt on one knee beside her.

"It’s rung many times. Do you want to answer it?"

His voice was right beside her, and she looked at him through the gap in the pillow with her beautiful eyes.

"I don't want to."

Without a word, Wen Fucheng immediately turned off her phone, looking even more decisive than Ying Jing.

Ying Jing sat up instantly.

"Wow, you didn't even ask me what it was about. What if it was something important?"

"If it were important, would you have stopped me? It seems it wasn't important enough to be worth answering."

Ying Jing deflated and leaned her head back.

"Sometimes I feel like we’ve only known each other for such a short time, yet you seem to understand me so well."

"Maybe." He took off the watch that was getting in his way. "Perhaps we knew each other in a past life." His thin lips parted and closed; what he said sounded like an insignificant joke, yet it made Ying Jing’s heart skip a beat.

She stared at him intently, trying to discern something from his face.

After a long while, she compromised.

"Then, if we knew each other in a past life, what do you think our relationship was?"

"What do you think?" he countered.

"I think! We must have been lovers, a very loving couple."

*Little fool.* Her words brought a smile to his face, and his entire demeanor softened.

"I don't think so."

Ying Jing pouted and asked him why.

"We must not have been together in our past life. Otherwise, how would it be your turn to pursue me in this life to complete the ending?"

Ying Jing’s heart was struck by his words.

A wave of soreness rose in her nose.

Wen Fucheng, oh Wen Fucheng.

Everything you say makes sense, yet it makes me so incredibly sad.

The two said goodnight to each other. Wen Fucheng stood outside for a long time, watching Ying Jing enter the house, until the chill of the night soaked through his body, forcing him to move his stiff limbs.

With Wen Fucheng’s comfort, Ying Jing slept well that night.

No dreams.

The next day, she was woken up by Ying Zenan’s relentless, life-threatening phone calls.

The school had even called him directly.

Ying Jing thought she would be scolded by her brother for being too impulsive.

Unexpectedly, Ying Zenan was even more agitated than she was.

"Is my, Ying Zenan’s, sister someone anyone can bully? Did anyone ask for my opinion? I’m telling you right now: if you don't bully them back in front of me, don't even think about stepping foot in the Ying household. Even if the old man comes home and breaks my legs, there’s no room for negotiation on this."

Ying Jing reached up to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes.

But she smiled more happily than she had in a long time.

Ying Jing got up happily, intending to make a beautiful breakfast for Wen Fucheng, but when she walked into the living room, she saw the man sleeping on the sofa.

Had he been outside all night?

It was only a few steps away; why didn't he come inside to sleep?

Ying Jing was about to go over and wake him, but the closer she got, the more she was mesmerized by his beauty.

She could never get tired of looking at this face she had fallen in love with at first sight.

She crouched quietly in front of the sofa, looking at the face she had longed for day and night, now within arm's reach.

She had never imagined that a single glance in her youth would lead to so many years of yearning.

"Wen Fucheng, oh Wen Fucheng, only you could make me like someone for so long."

What she thought was a chance encounter was actually a memory she couldn't let go of for years.

The curtains in the living room swayed silently, and the clouds outside the window played hide-and-seek.

Even the sun shyly withdrew its light.

The man she loved.

He possessed a refined elegance that time could not contain.

And a deep tenderness that time could not pause.

The young girl knelt halfway, lowered her head, and kissed those long-desired lips with utmost devotion.

(End of chapter)