Ruan Jiaojiao blinked her bright, fox-like eyes, the fine drizzle clinging to her long eyelashes.
Since Second Uncle had called her, she walked over, stopping at a distance of about one arm's length.
"Second Uncle, is something the matter?" she asked.
Seeing that she wouldn't come any closer, Fu Zhinian took a step forward, instantly standing right in front of her.
The distance between them was less than two fists.
In an instant, Ruan Jiaojiao was enveloped by his cool, aloof aura, and she could clearly catch the scent of Chinese herbs about him.
"Sec—Second Uncle..." Ruan Jiaojiao was about to back away when he caught her hand. He didn't use much force, but she lost her footing and stumbled straight into his embrace, her free hand instinctively grabbing at his shoulder.
For a fraction of a second, Fu Zhinian's body stiffened inexplicably. A woman's unique fragrance invaded his nasal passages, and his grip on the umbrella tightened.
"I'm sorry, Second Uncle, I didn't mean to." Sensing the change in his demeanor and thinking he was about to get angry, Ruan Jiaojiao quickly straightened up and apologized in a panic.
"Don't move around, it's raining," Fu Zhinian said in a low voice.
Only then did Ruan Jiaojiao realize that Second Uncle had called her over simply to share his shelter from the rain.
"Th—thank you, Second Uncle." Ruan Jiaojiao steadied herself, her attitude docile.
Fu Zhinian slowly released her hand and slipped his hands into his pockets.
Suddenly, a gust of cold wind blew. Ruan Jiaojiao couldn't help sneezing, rubbed her nose—which had been turned red by the chill—and smiled apologetically at Fu Zhinian.
"Second Uncle, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to."
Fu Zhinian looked down at her. After a moment of silence, he handed the umbrella to her. "Take it."
Not quite understanding, Ruan Jiaojiao nevertheless took the umbrella.
Next, Fu Zhinian unfastened his scarf and wound it around Ruan Jiaojiao's neck. The scarf still carried his residual warmth.
"Second Uncle, this is your scarf, I can't—"
"Wear it."
Startled by the imperious tone in Second Uncle's voice, Ruan Jiaojiao didn't dare touch the scarf around her neck anymore. Her mouth and nose were covered by it, leaving only her pair of fox-like eyes exposed.
Her eyes curving into crescents, she said, "Thank you, Second Uncle."
A subtle shift crossed Fu Zhinian's gaze. He took a deep, silent breath and said, "Hurry back."
Ruan Jiaojiao held out the umbrella to return it. "Second Uncle, your umbrella."
"Keep it." With that, Fu Zhinian strode off, continuing on his way.
Ruan Jiaojiao watched his tall figure recede. In no time at all, a layer of fine drizzle settled over his short black hair, his woolen trench coat swaying from side to side as he walked.
Ruan Jiaojiao withdrew her gaze and turned toward the Third Branch villa.
Looking at the umbrella in her hand and pulling the scarf tighter around her neck, a warm feeling welled up inside her.
*
Back inside the villa, the servants were serving dishes, looking as though dinner was about to be served.
Fu Jiaru was sitting on the sofa looking at her phone. She glanced sideways at Ruan Jiaojiao, let out a disdainful scoff, and went right back to her screen.
No one paid any attention to Ruan Jiaojiao. Unwilling to humiliate herself by lingering downstairs, she picked up her things and headed for the stairs.
Just as she reached the steps, however, Fu Jiaru's cold voice snapped from behind, "Stop right there!"
Ruan Jiaojiao halted and turned around.
Fu Jiaru hurried over, looked her up and down with a gaze full of disgust and suspicion, and demanded, "Where did you get that scarf and those clothes?"
Ruan Jiaojiao smiled. "What about them?"
"What do you mean, *what about them*?! Your clothes and scarf both look like high-quality pieces. A penniless wretch like you—could you possibly afford to buy them?" Fu Jiaru scrutinized the garments on her, finding them vaguely familiar.
Ruan Jiaojiao was taken aback, though she wasn't surprised—they were Second Uncle's clothes, after all.
"What? Could it be you stole these clothes?" Seeing that she didn't answer, Fu Jiaru suspected she had stolen them.
Faced with this accusation, Ruan Jiaojiao frowned slightly. Of all things, she detested being accused of theft the most.
Back when she was little, a classmate at school had lost some money. Without even investigating, people had immediately pointed fingers and claimed she was the thief simply because her family was poor and there was no one else to blame.
Ruan Jiaojiao had cried out of grievance, but the false accusations hadn't stopped; neither the teachers nor the students believed her.
In the end, Ruan Qianlian had paid that classmate back out of her own pocket, and the matter had finally been put to rest.
Yet Ruan Jiaojiao hadn't felt happy at all, because she hadn't been the one who did it.
When she told her mother, her mother said she believed she hadn't done it—so why pay the money back, then?
Her mother explained that it was because they couldn't afford to offend those people. When you have no money, you are at your most humble; if you don't apologize and pay up, the likely result is that you get expelled from school.
So, when you can bear it, you just have to bear it.
As she grew up, she faced many more accusations. While grievances were inevitable, she had endured every single one of them.
"Why are you staring at me? Still angry? Must be a guilty conscience!" Fu Jiaru raised her voice. The servants busy setting the dinner table glanced over, but quickly averted their eyes.
Suppressing the anger deep in her eyes, Ruan Jiaojiao looked at Fu Jiaru with a smile. "You've misunderstood. These clothes were given to me by someone."
"Given to you by someone? As if! You just got here—who could you possibly even know in the manor? What a pathetic excuse to cover up your stealing!"
Ruan Jiaojiao's expression remained completely unchanged as she smiled. "I didn't steal anything. If you don't believe me, you can go ask around the manor and see if anyone has lost anything."
With that, Ruan Jiaojiao continued up the stairs, ignoring Fu Jiaru altogether.
Fu Jiaru yelled after Ruan Jiaojiao's retreating back, "You just wait! Once I find out whose things you stole, I'll have you thrown out on the street!"
Little vixen! Just you wait!
When Ruan Jiaojiao returned to the attic, her mother was standing by the window, looking out through the glass panes. Hearing footsteps, she turned around.
"Jiaojiao's back."
"Yeah. Mom, why are you standing by the window? It's cold."
Ruan Jiaojiao set the umbrella by the door, unwound the scarf, took off her coat, gave it a shake, and draped it over her arm.
"It's fine, I'm not cold." Ruan Qianlian pointed to the quilt on the bed. "He had someone bring a quilt over. Two pillows, a towel, and some toiletries were bought for us as well."
"Jiaojiao, actually, I think he's still quite good to us, don't you?"
Looking into her mother's eyes, which were brimming with romantic affection, Ruan Jiaojiao let out a helpless sigh.
She knew her mother had never been able to let go of Fu Dexin. Even after being abandoned and treated with contempt by him, her mother still held onto hope.
Her mother was an absolute hopeless romantic.
"Mom, all of this is only what he ought to do. Even if a total stranger came to stay as a guest, he should still prepare these things in advance."
Ruan Jiaojiao hung her clothes on a hanger. There was no wardrobe here, so they could only be hung temporarily from the lintel of the door.
Still indulging in fantasies, Ruan Qianlian murmured, "Maybe... maybe he's just been too busy."
Ruan Jiaojiao shook her head and stopped trying to persuade her mother.
"Mom, I'm going to take a shower first. They must be eating downstairs by now; we can go down a little later so Fu Dexin doesn't have anything to complain about." With that, Ruan Jiaojiao went into the bathroom.