Chapter 4: I'll Keep You

Duan Yan set down his chopsticks and looked at her.

"From now on, if you want to buy—"

He'd been about to say "just buy whatever you want," but the thought of his salary—rent already carved out, leaving only a few thousand—stopped the words in his throat.

He didn't know what to say.

But Rong Jiqiao spoke first: "I won't buy those things anymore. Living in Beijing is too expensive. I can't live like I did back in the county town."

Duan Yan lowered his eyes. "However much money there is, just buy what you want. Just don't go looking for work in those kinds of places. If you really don't want to go out and work, then stay home. The property management company said they'll promote me to security captain next month—two thousand more in salary. That should be enough for you to spend."

Rong Jiqiao had a belly full of things she wanted to say, but Duan Yan shoveled the rest of his food down in two quick bites and stood up.

"I'm heading to work."

She could only swallow her words and call after him.

"Take it slow. Be careful on the road."

"Mm. Sleep early."

The door closed. Rong Jiqiao sat in the chair and let out a long, long breath.

One lie could only be covered by another lie.

She felt deflated, certain there should have been a better way to handle it.

But if she were smart, she wouldn't be a small-town vocational school girl—she'd have gotten into Tsinghua or Peking University by now.

Rong Jiqiao stood up and cleared the takeaway boxes from the coffee table.

She tossed the trash, grabbed a rag, and wiped down the table.

Then the floor. The kitchen. The bathroom.

She'd never been this diligent before.

She used to think all of this was Duan Yan's job—she only needed to be pretty and that was enough.

But now she didn't dare. She had to let the heir see that she was contributing something.

After mopping the floor, she changed the trash bag and carried it out to the hallway bin.

She showered, lay down in bed, and tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Rong Jiqiao closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Six months. Just six more months.

Once she had the money, she'd go back to the county town.

Beijing's elite circles were not something someone like her should even dream about.

She rolled over and forced herself to sleep.

Duan Yan came home at 3:30 AM.

He opened the door as quietly as he could, habitually preparing to tidy up the apartment before sleeping.

But the moment he stepped inside, he froze.

The apartment was spotless.

The coffee table was immaculate. The floor gleamed. Even the stovetop had been scrubbed shiny.

A fresh trash bag lined the bin.

Duan Yan stood in the doorway, looking at this home that was at once familiar and strange.

Rong Jiqiao lay on her side, back to the door, breathing evenly.

He just stood there, watching her for a while.

Duan Yan fumbled through the dark to wash up. He turned the faucet to its lowest trickle and set his mouthwash cup back on the sink as gently as he could.

He lifted the corner of the blanket. The mattress dipped slightly.

Rong Jiqiao, half-asleep, shifted toward the wall to make room for him.

Her mind was foggy. She wanted to tell him about the apartment, but figured he must be dead tired. Forget it—tomorrow.

Just as she was drifting off, a cold sensation pressed against her wrist.

Metal against skin—that icy, bone-deep chill shot straight through her nerves.

Rong Jiqiao's eyes flew open, her heart pounding like a war drum.

White light exploded in her brain. It was the sensation from her past life—handcuffs clamped around her wrists right before they drowned her.

Cold. Hard. Locked tight. No matter how she thrashed, they wouldn't give.

Her breath caught. She bolted upright.

"What's wrong?" Duan Yan's voice came from beside her, thick with sleep.

Rong Jiqiao looked down. In the faint light filtering through the curtain, she made out what was on her wrist.

Not handcuffs.

A delicate bracelet.

A fine gold chain glowed softly in the dimness, its pendant a tiny four-leaf clover that caught scattered light as it swayed against her wrist bone.

She stared, then looked up at Duan Yan.

"Where did this come from?"

"Bought it."

Rong Jiqiao stared at the bracelet, her heartbeat still not fully settled. "We're supposed to be saving money right now. You don't need to buy things like this."

Duan Yan didn't answer. He just looked at her wrist.

The four-leaf clover pendant swayed against her wrist bone. Her skin was fair, her frame small—that thin chain made her entire wrist look impossibly delicate.

No wonder she loved these things.

She was made to wear them.

"Mm." Duan Yan acknowledged, his tone flat. "Wasn't expensive."

Rong Jiqiao opened her mouth, wanting to say something, then swallowed it back.

She was about to lie back down when she noticed Duan Yan's voice didn't actually sound sleepy.

Well, she was awake now anyway.

"Oh, right." Rong Jiqiao cleared her throat. "I already told the landlady—we're moving out next month."

Duan Yan's fingers paused.

"I went to look at an apartment today when I was out. In the urban village area—four thousand a month. We'd save half the rent."

She spoke quickly, afraid he'd disagree, and added, "That place is nice too. Not as new as this one, but it's plenty livable."

A few seconds of silence in the dark.

"No need to move." Duan Yan's voice came through. "This place is fine."

Rong Jiqiao blinked.

"Huh?"

How is it fine?

This dump costs eight thousand a month.

But now she was starting to think the urban village wasn't so bad either.

"It doesn't have to be this nice." Rong Jiqiao said seriously. "We can save money."

Duan Yan turned onto his side, facing her.

"No need to save. I can earn more. Do whatever you want."