Chapter Three: The Young Girl’s Coin Purse

Guilt makes people obedient.

Ye Mian closed her umbrella and walked under the eaves.

Perhaps the closeness made her nervous; for a moment, Ye Mian forgot her original intention—she had meant to leave after delivering the medicine.

Noticing her tense posture, lips pressed together with a hint of cherry red, Jiang Chen looked at her and smiled, “Are you very afraid?”

Ye Mian blinked.

Seeing such a smile on a dreary rainy day, for some reason, her heart skipped a beat.

Remembering that she had been reborn and that Jiang Chen was not a murderer, she shook her head and admitted, “I’m not afraid.”

“Is that so?” Jiang Chen raised his brows slightly, saying nothing more.

He looked at the wound at the corner of the girl’s eye.

He gently applied medicine from his finger to Ye Mian’s reddened eye corner, then casually smeared the remaining ointment on his own brow bone.

Only then did he hand the basket back to Ye Mian.

“Thank you.”

His voice was not loud, but it was gentle.

Perhaps it was the natural quality of his voice that allowed it to pierce through the rain and reach her ears with clarity.

Everything happened so smoothly, like flowing water.

Ye Mian didn’t know how to react; she wanted to step back, but she suddenly lost the ability to move, even her breathing felt uneasy.

She could only try her best to maintain a calm expression as she took the basket, saying, “No need to thank me, it’s what I should do.”

Only then did she turn and leave quickly.

Afterwards, she felt the cool, minty sensation from the ointment at the corner of her eye.

In a daze, Ye Mian felt her sense of guilt deepen.

And she couldn’t help but think… Jiang Chen was actually a good person now.

If not for that incident, his future would surely be even brighter.

When she returned home, the sky had darkened; the neighbor next door ran into Ye Mian and invited her over for dinner.

Ye Mian didn’t want to trouble anyone, so she smiled and politely declined.

Her cooking skills were quite good; she decisively started the stove and stewed an old duck with a few jujubes. The aroma soon filled the air.

On such gloomy days, nothing suited better than a nourishing soup.

The soup simmered for half an hour, its fragrance making her mouth water.

Ye Mian ladled the soup, took a small sip, and felt satisfied; yet her mind couldn’t help but recall what Jiang Chen’s stepmother had said that day.

“There’s no money at home, figure out your own dinner.”

Ye Mian pursed her lips.

She took out a clean thermos box, filled it with the most generous pieces of duck, poured in a full portion of soup, and added rice to the separate compartment.

After a moment’s thought, she opened her bedside cabinet and took out her small wallet.

Inside were ten hundred-yuan bills and some scattered change.

This was her saved pocket money.

Her father was still working out of town as a private doctor, his income was decent.

This year, her father was very busy, rarely at home, but he always provided ample living expenses.

She took out seven hundred-yuan bills, carefully wrapped them in a white envelope.

Although her allowance was generous, seven hundred yuan was a considerable sum for her at the moment.

After making sure nothing was missing, she smiled contentedly and set out for Jiang Chen’s house again.

Dusk was settling in, and the lights at Jiang Chen’s house were not on. She knocked on the iron gate of the yard, but no one answered.

She lingered for a few minutes, sighing softly; it seemed no one was home.

Just as she was about to leave, someone approached from the old locust tree at the street corner.

Looking closer, it was Jiang Chen.

He stood under the locust tree, the faint sunset casting its glow over him. The dim light blurred his features; his eyes, already dark, appeared even more somber.

“Jiang Chen.” Ye Mian looked up, her heart beating wildly, and hurried over in small steps. Her fingers gripped the lunchbox tightly, and a smile appeared at the corner of her eye.

“Hm?”

His tone rose slightly, carrying an indescribable chill, a sense of utter indifference.

They locked eyes.

For some reason, Ye Mian always felt nervous when facing him.

Fortunately, she didn’t forget her purpose for coming; holding the lunchbox in both hands, she offered it to him with a smile. “I stewed duck today. Try it.”

“For me?”

Jiang Chen’s eyes lifted slightly; after a brief silence, he asked, “Why?”

Ye Mian stared at his eyes and answered with sincere seriousness, “Because I hit you today, and I think just apologizing isn’t enough.”

And because I heard your stepmother say… you had nothing to eat, and I couldn’t bear it.

She left the rest unsaid.

She didn’t know where this sympathy came from, but she simply couldn’t look away.

The thought of Jiang Chen going hungry made her heart ache.

Jiang Chen was stunned.

He never expected this girl would come back again and again to apologize.

He himself never gave the matter much thought.

Suppressing his unfamiliar feelings, he tried to muster a gentle smile, “Thank you, but there’s no need.”

“Are you still angry?” Ye Mian asked softly.

“No, I’m not angry.”

“Then take it.” Ye Mian lifted the lunchbox again. “If you’ve already eaten, you can use it as a midnight snack.”

Jiang Chen looked helplessly at the lunchbox pushed into his hands and finally nodded. “Thank you.”

Seeing him accept it, Ye Mian smiled with satisfaction, her gaze drifting to the envelope attached to the lunchbox. She beamed, “Then I’ll head back now. Thank you for forgiving me.”

Jiang Chen nodded, and Ye Mian turned to leave.

She walked quickly, her steps light, as if she had urgent matters to attend to at home.

Her heart was anxious as she walked; she feared Jiang Chen would discover the envelope before she got far.

She wasn’t sure if Jiang Chen would accept the money.

But she felt he probably wouldn’t.

It was just intuition—her sixth sense.

So she hurried home, not giving Jiang Chen the chance to call her back.

Once home, Ye Mian closed the door and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

She changed into slippers, took a hot shower, and curled up on the rocking chair by the window.

By now, all traces of dusk had faded, the evening breeze danced happily down the street.

Night had fallen completely.

A faint scent of flowers wafted from somewhere, drifting into Ye Mian’s nose.

She took a deep breath; with the matter of offending Jiang Chen resolved, her nerves—tense all day—began to relax, and her mood improved considerably.

Her phone chimed with a message.

She opened it; it was a message from her class group.

Someone mentioned that school would start in a few days and asked if everyone had finished their summer homework.

Someone else said they had gotten the answers for the summer homework, five yuan a copy.

Ye Mian looked at these messages idly, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. Her grades were good, and she always finished her homework quickly.

Thinking about it, she once again felt regret for the umpteenth time that day.

If it came to grades, Jiang Chen’s were truly outstanding—he was the future top scorer in science for the college entrance exam.

And his success benefited not only himself.

From what Ye Mian knew, Jiang Chen could be considered the most conscientious entrepreneur; every month, she heard he funded the rescue of critically ill patients, once spent a fortune to replace bone marrow for a girl with leukemia, and even paid to care for girls abandoned by their families.

Most astonishing of all, she’d heard Jiang Chen once promised to unconditionally help girls who’d suffered abuse.

Those girls, often afraid of powerful forces or too poor to seek help, rarely received encouragement or support.

Only Jiang Chen stepped forward, finding them the best lawyers and the most reliable psychological counseling teams.