Warm sunlight spilled across the lake, casting a shimmering, dazzling glow—truly a sight to behold. But at this moment, no one had the heart to appreciate the view.
Zhuang Dongping’s eyes were rimmed red. Just before her tears could fall, she spun around and ran straight toward the association, ignoring Yang Xueyan’s calls from behind. The wind roared in her ears, but her mind was consumed with anger and indignation, leaving room for nothing else.
This place—where she’d been since she could remember—she knew better than anyone. It took almost no effort for her to slip in through the side entrance and reach the temporary workshop. Inside, everything was peaceful, as if the morning’s incident had never happened.
“Lin Aiyun! Get out here!”
A furious shout shattered the calm.
Lin Aiyun paused mid-stitch on the rose she was embroidering and looked toward the source of the sound. Her eyes met Zhuang Dongping’s red-rimmed ones. Whatever she’d been through, she looked utterly disheveled.
“I’ll step out for a moment,” Lin Aiyun said to the person beside her.
“Her mood seems really off…”
Lin Aiyun could see that too, but she guessed Zhuang Dongping had called her out alone because she had something to say—and it was very likely related to the morning’s incident. So she still needed to go see.
With so many people at the association, Zhuang Dongping would have to think twice before trying anything.
Zhuang Dongping walked quickly and soon entered an empty storage room ahead. It was cluttered with odds and ends, and besides the two of them, there was no one else.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lin Aiyun didn’t want to waste time—she still had a lot of embroidery to finish—so she cut straight to the point. “Did you need something from me?”
“Don’t pretend to care about me!” Zhuang Dongping was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, every quill raised in defense.
“…” Lin Aiyun had only asked out of basic politeness, okay?
Seeing Lin Aiyun not responding, Zhuang Dongping swept some miscellaneous items off a nearby shelf, sending them crashing to the ground, and shrieked recklessly: “You think your life is so perfect and happy? You think everyone around you truly cares about you and treats you sincerely?”
Watching Zhuang Dongping’s outburst, Lin Aiyun edged to the side and instinctively raised a hand to protect her belly, frowning. She’d thought Zhuang Dongping had something to say, but this was it?
She was acting like a tantrum-throwing child—immature and ridiculous. But Lin Aiyun wasn’t about to play the doting adult.
“Calm down. I don’t think that.”
Hearing Lin Aiyun’s reply, Zhuang Dongping felt like she’d punched a pillow—frustrated but with nowhere to direct her anger. Her mind involuntarily replayed Yang Xueyan’s words by the lake.
Since her teacher already knew the truth, she had nothing left to lose.
“You outsiders can only come to the capital because of your precious husband! And you think that’s such a great thing? The truth is, he only sees you as a stand-in, a plaything—he doesn’t truly love you. He loves someone else!”
After saying this, Zhuang Dongping seemed to release a pent-up grudge, her expression relaxing considerably. She felt she’d gotten the upper hand—”bafen’er” as they said in the old Beijing dialect, meaning to be a cut above.
And Lin Aiyun did exactly as she’d expected: her brow furrowed deeply, her face darkened, as if hearing this for the first time. Her expression gradually stiffened, and when she looked up again, the muscles at her jaw twitched faintly.
Seeing this, Zhuang Dongping pressed her advantage smugly, continuing: “Before you came to the capital, Xiao Cheng was already searching the entire city for his old flame. He carried her portrait everywhere, questioning everyone, afraid of missing a single lead. They must have been deeply in love—not something anyone else could compare to.”
“You just happen to look a bit like her. A fake is a fake. No matter how skilled your embroidery is, in this life, you’ll always be nothing but a substitute!”
“It’s just like how you’ll join our teacher’s discipleship later—when people mention it, they’ll only think of me, Zhuang Dongping! Do you think a decade of bond between us can be replaced by some country bumpkin like you?”
“You’ll never get your husband’s true affection, and you’ll never steal my teacher away! So pack your things and crawl back to Jiangming Province—before the real one comes back and you have to slink away in disgrace. How humiliating that would be.”
“Honestly, I almost feel sorry for you!”
Zhuang Dongping’s shrill voice rang in her ears like a thunderclap. Lin Aiyun’s blank gaze suddenly sharpened, turning unreadable. Her fingertips clutched at the hem of her clothes, slowly twisting the fabric into wrinkles.
At the same time, her mind quickly sorted through the information Zhuang Dongping had thrown at her.
First: Xiao Cheng had a former lover before her—someone who looked very similar to her? And she was just a substitute?
Second: She would later join Auntie Yang’s discipleship?
Setting aside the first point, the second was blatantly false—she was set to join the president’s discipleship, not Yang Xueyan’s.
As for the first, although Zhuang Dongping had spoken with such conviction, her credibility was questionable at best. Between a barely familiar woman who’d suddenly “lost her mind” and her own husband, Lin Aiyun knew who to trust.
Besides, when they’d had their heart-to-heart before, he’d clearly told her she was his first love in this life—his very first partner.
He had no reason or need to lie about that.
Whether it was true or false, she’d find out by asking him directly tonight. Neither of them was the type to keep their mouths shut. If she jumped to conclusions based on Zhuang Dongping’s few words and created a misunderstanding between them, that wouldn’t be fair.
“You’ve said so much…” Lin Aiyun paused for a few seconds, then continued: “Does that mean you were the one behind this morning’s incident?”
The topic shifted too quickly. Zhuang Dongping was first taken aback, then erupted into a furious roar, shrieking at the top of her lungs: “So what if it was me? Who told you to come to the capital and join the association? Ever since you showed up, everything has changed—it’s all your fault! If you got out of the association, everything would go back to normal.”
“On my very first day at the association, when Luo Cheng splashed ink on me—that was your doing too, wasn’t it?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she saw Zhuang Dongping’s expression flicker, a flash of panic in her eyes—clearly not expecting Lin Aiyun to suddenly bring up that old incident. In that moment, her true feelings slipped through.
That tied everything together. Her instincts back then had been right—it was Zhuang Dongping.
Realizing this, Lin Aiyun couldn’t help but press her forehead and let out a bitter laugh. Without waiting for an answer, she continued on her own: “I got into the association through my own abilities, without any outside help. If you want to join, you can follow the same process and let your embroidery speak for itself.”
“There are so many talented colleagues at the association with unique skills—and new people will keep coming in. There’s always someone better. If everyone were jealous and schemed to drive others out, wouldn’t you get tired of it?”
“Back in the car, I already warned you—and those words came from my heart. With your current skill level, if you focused on honing your craft, you could definitely join within a year or two. But now it’s clear you not only didn’t listen, you put all your energy into underhanded tricks.”
“But back then, you helped block the ink from getting on me—that must have meant something, right? Why did things change? Jealousy alone doesn’t explain it…”
As she spoke, Lin Aiyun’s brow furrowed tighter. “Is it because you thought I was going to become your junior disciple? Is that why you did this?”
“I don’t know where you heard that, but from start to finish, Auntie and I never had that intention. In her heart, you will always be her only disciple!”
“Does Auntie know what you’ve done? If she found out, how heartbroken and disappointed would she be?”
After hearing Lin Aiyun’s words, Zhuang Dongping’s whole body trembled violently. Her ears buzzed, her mind went blank, and for a moment it seemed she couldn’t hear anything at all. She instinctively reached out to steady herself against a nearby storage box, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Thinking of the look in Yang Xueyan’s eyes by the lake, she felt as though she’d been thrown into an icy, bottomless sea—her blood freezing, unable to breathe.
“The things you’ve done—by the association’s rules, you’ve completely lost any chance of ever joining.”
The two stood facing each other. Lin Aiyun found the whole situation utterly absurd—it all started with a misunderstanding, one wrong step leading to another.
She wondered what Zhuang Dongping was feeling now. Did she regret it?
At barely over twenty, her career in embroidery was essentially over.
“Ping’er?”
Yang Xueyan, after all, was getting on in years and had only just caught up. Her hair was disheveled, a far cry from her usual composure and elegance. Gripping the doorframe, she gasped for breath. Taking in the scene, she immediately guessed that Lin Aiyun now knew the whole truth.
But at this moment, she couldn’t dwell on that. Her gaze shifted to Zhuang Dongping—but the moment their eyes met, the girl lowered her head and looked away.
“Auntie, you two talk. I’ll step out.” Out of consideration for Yang Xueyan, Lin Aiyun took the initiative to leave. As she passed the doorway, she heard an apology.
It came from Zhuang Dongping.
She didn’t respond, only gave Yang Xueyan’s arm a reassuring pat before walking away.
—
By late afternoon, the investigation results were out. Word had it that Vice President Yang Xueyan had personally led Zhuang Dongping to confess. Lin Aiyun didn’t go to watch the spectacle, but she still caught bits and pieces from others’ conversations.
Later in the afternoon, someone else came looking for her—this time, it was Jiang Run.
The two sat on stone benches in front of the cafeteria. Lin Aiyun adjusted the blanket draped over her shoulders and buried her face slightly into it.
“You’re married?” That was Jiang Run’s opening question. Perhaps feeling it was too abrupt and inappropriate, he added: “I just heard it from someone else.”
“Yes, back in September. We weren’t very familiar back then, so I didn’t invite you.” Lin Aiyun gave a polite, reserved smile.
Hearing her confirmation, Jiang Run took a deep breath. Only now did he finally believe it. After a moment of silence, he spoke again: “You and Xiao Cheng have had your ups and downs, your conflicts—why would you get married so quickly? Shouldn’t you think it over more?”
“Ups and downs?” Lin Aiyun caught onto that key phrase.
“Yes. Did I say something wrong?” Jiang Run turned to look at her, puzzled. Since it was confirmed that Lin Aiyun was Xiao Cheng’s new wife, he naturally assumed she was the same woman Xiao Cheng had been searching for before.
The two must have met and fallen in love by chance, separated, and then reunited.
“How do you know about that?” Lin Aiyun suppressed her curiosity and pretended to be in the know, when in reality she was trying to pry information out of Jiang Run.
Fortunately, Jiang Run didn’t notice anything off. He let out a bitter laugh. “He made such a big scene looking for you in the capital back then—who in our circle wouldn’t know?”
“So it was about him looking for me with that portrait?” Jiang Run’s words overlapped with Zhuang Dongping’s. A complicated feeling welled up in Lin Aiyun’s heart. Her fingers intertwined, clenching and unclenching.
“Yes.” Seeing that Lin Aiyun was already aware, Jiang Run let go of his last doubts. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he still couldn’t let it go. “If you two ever… there are plenty of other men out there—ones more suited to you than him.”
“You don’t have to settle.”
Hearing this, Lin Aiyun shot him a surprised glance. His words were hard not to read into. She hadn’t expected Jiang Run to harbor such feelings for her.
But his affection for her might be just a passing fancy, or a mutual appreciation between fellow embroiderers…
Either way, men’s words couldn’t always be taken at face value.
So Lin Aiyun just smiled, pretending not to catch his meaning. “I definitely won’t settle.”
“When the president returns, we’ll officially be martial siblings. If you ever need anything, you can always come to me.”
“Alright. Thank you in advance.”
The two sat in silence for a moment. Before long, Lin Aiyun used the cold as an excuse and headed back to the workshop.
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