A Willing Mistake, My Lady – Chapter 108
by Little PandaModern AU Extra 2
Sheltering
The arrival of the new student had genuinely livened up the class for several days. The moment class ended, people would swarm over to chat her up, but this little beauty didn’t seem to know how to refuse anyone—her voice sweet and sticky, looking soft and easy to bully.
Shen Hetang worried about her life this past year. Being too outstanding—would she be resented by others?
What Shen Hetang worried about surfaced within days.
After the first diagnostic exam, her new desk-mate’s grades were merely average—middling at best, even below average. This gave those who were already jealous, or infatuated, male and female alike, the satisfaction of seeing a goddess tumble from her pedestal.
Gradually, boys began fixing their gazes on her figure. No matter how loose the school uniform, outstanding proportions were impossible to hide.
Some girls would invite her out, but their motives were clearly impure. Fortunately, she declined them all on the pretext of studying—likely having sensed something was off.
Shen Hetang felt this girl’s spirit often wandered far away. She would sit holding a textbook for ages without moving, her gaze distant, those pretty peach-blossom eyes1 somewhat hollow.
Seeing her holding the book with the text upside down, Shen Hetang reached over and slipped it from her hands.
Jiang Chenyu only saw a pair of slender, elegant fingers moving before her eyes.
“What are you doing?” She turned her head, looking a bit innocent. Her voice was soft yet like sugar water—sweet without being cloying.
“Your book is upside down. The teacher is almost here,” Shen Hetang reminded her.
“Oh, thanks.” Jiang Chenyu smiled her thanks, two dimples appearing and disappearing.
“You’re welcome.” Shen Hetang felt this girl might be carrying some burdens.
School ended late that evening. Outside the school gates, it was already pitch black. Shen Hetang rolled out her electric scooter2 parked nearby and was just about to start it when she spotted the man she had seen with Jiang Chenyu last time—probably her father.
“Uncle Wu, I made plans with a classmate today to celebrate her birthday. It wouldn’t be right to back out after promising. I won’t be going home tonight, alright?” Jiang Chenyu said firmly, looking at her stepfather.
“Oh? Going to a classmate’s house? Nanny Wu never mentioned it. Besides, it isn’t easy for me to carve out time. Won’t you keep Uncle Wu company? For your classmate, just bring her a gift tomorrow—that’ll do.” The middle-aged man rested his hand on her shoulder, kneading it. A hint of displeasure showed in his eyes.
“But she’s already there waiting for me. I’ve been here so long and haven’t made a single friend. Finally found someone I know—I can’t just stand her up.” Saying this, she waved at Shen Hetang across the street, her tone growing more resolute.
“It’s settled then. I’ll have a meal with you another day, Uncle Wu.” With that, she ran straight across the street and hopped onto the back of Shen Hetang’s electric scooter.
Her arms wrapped tightly around Shen Hetang’s waist as she said, “Go. Quick.”
The middle-aged man watched the two ride off on the electric scooter, his gaze malevolent, tinged with anger. He thought to himself: you can escape the first, but not the fifteenth3. The days are long. We’ll see.
Shen Hetang was completely bewildered by this series of maneuvers. Fortunately, she had been moving slowly enough to keep an eye on the situation over there—otherwise Jiang Chenyu wouldn’t have caught up to her.
“What’s wrong? Is something the matter?” Hearing her words, Shen Hetang twisted the throttle, and the two rode forward into the cool night breeze, the streetlamps providing just enough light to see the road.
“Take me in for the night. I don’t want to go home.” Jiang Chenyu’s voice carried a trace of sadness—like a wronged kitten, soft and yielding.
She could clearly feel Jiang Chenyu pressing her face against her back. Though Shen Hetang sensed something was off, she wouldn’t ask if the other girl didn’t volunteer it.
But seeing her so downcast stirred an unbidden tenderness in Shen Hetang. It wouldn’t cost her anything to comfort her a little, so she agreed without hesitation.
Only after she agreed did Jiang Chenyu breathe a sigh of relief. When she had first spotted Wu Daoyuan, she had tried calling Nanny Wu, but sure enough, the woman was on vacation back in her hometown.
The more Jiang Chenyu thought about it, the more aggrieved she felt. Leaning against her classmate’s back, her hot tears soaked through her thin clothes.
Shen Hetang could clearly feel the change behind her. Seeing her crying again, she sighed inwardly, stopped the scooter, and draped the jacket from her basket over Jiang Chenyu’s shoulders.
The weather was turning cool, nearly October. Jiang Chenyu’s jacket had gone who-knows-where, and she was only wearing a thin shirt—she had to be cold.
“Thank you.” The thanks from behind came with a sniffle.
“We’re almost there. Hold on tight!” With that, she rode all the way back to the residential complex.
It was a fair distance from school to home, but by scooter it only took a dozen minutes or so. To save time, she always rode her electric scooter to school. The school didn’t exactly encourage it, but as long as she kept a low profile, it was fine—after all, her circumstances were special, and if no one reported it, no one would pursue it4.
Her occasional absences, the teacher had grown accustomed to as well. He never said things like “it’ll affect your studies”—after all, it’s easy to talk when you’re not the one hurting5. Pretty words couldn’t replace three meals a day. He was an understanding, good teacher, and Shen Hetang was deeply grateful.
She took her little desk-mate through the dark streets. The night wind rustled the leaves loudly. The shops behind the trees were mostly closed by nine or ten at night, so the road was pitch black—only the headlight of the electric scooter illuminated the way ahead.
Jiang Chenyu’s mood was somewhat diluted by the surroundings. She looked up and saw an oppressive expanse of blackness above—she wasn’t sure what it was—and pressed herself closer against Shen Hetang’s back.
The electric scooter rounded a corner and arrived at the entrance of a residential complex. Shen Hetang greeted the elderly gatekeeper, and the old man lazily pressed the button to unlock the gate.
“Yo, Little Shen, how come you’re bringing a girl home today?” The old man was well acquainted with Shen Hetang’s grandmother and kept an extra eye out for her.
“Found her on the road, so I brought her back.” Shen Hetang’s tone was perfectly casual.
“Hey, always teasing your old man. Get going now. Kids these days work too hard—going to school from dawn till past dark.” The old man waved her off.
“Sure thing. See you, Uncle!” She coasted the scooter down to her building.
“Why did you say I was found on the road?”
“Weren’t you?”
“Hmph.” Jiang Chenyu voiced a small note of dissatisfaction.
“I’m kidding. Don’t be mad.”
Shen Hetang’s home was on the third floor—an apartment her parents had bought when they got married, nearly twenty years ago now. No elevator. The building went up to seven floors.
Jiang Chenyu’s mood had improved considerably. She followed behind Shen Hetang into the apartment with curiosity and fresh excitement. The place wasn’t too big or too small—about seventy or eighty square meters—but the living room was quite empty, with only a sofa and a projector.
“I’m too lazy to clean most of the time, so the setup is pretty slapdash.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a bit embarrassed.
“I think as long as it’s comfortable for you, that’s what matters.” An image of Shen Hetang curled up on the sofa holding half a watermelon and watching a movie flashed through her mind, and she smiled faintly.
“You rest first. I’ll make a midnight snack.” She grabbed some fruit from the fridge for her and headed toward the kitchen.
“I’m not hungry. You don’t have to cook. Showing up suddenly is already trouble enough for you.” Jiang Chenyu was feeling a bit sheepish now, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt for something to do.
“You’re not hungry, but I still need to eat. I burn so many calories every day. Look at classmate Jiang in our class—his hair is going bald, and his face is even worse, completely occupied by the enemy army.” She spoke as she heated water.
Jiang Chenyu covered her mouth and laughed. That classmate really was pitiful—having to search for his facial features beneath a field of acne.
Seeing her laugh, Shen Hetang turned her attention back to the pot. She almost never ate dinner at school.
Saving money was secondary; the main issue was that the food was terrible.
These fresh meat wontons6 with their thin skins and generous filling were handmade by her grandmother. The little old lady had sat at the table and wrapped over two hundred of them, nearly filling the entire freezer.
There were also eggs, goose eggs, salted duck eggs, and homemade chili sauce. Every month, the old lady would ride the bus into the city with big bundles and small parcels—her signature routine—and she never tired of the round trip.
Once the water boiled, she slipped the ingot-shaped wontons in one by one, then turned to fetch two large white porcelain bowls with cartoon patterns.
She added seaweed, dried shrimp, cilantro, soy sauce, a pinch of salt, and a dash of chicken bouillon, then waited for the plump, white wontons to float to the surface.
The entire process was clean and efficient, done in very little time. She glanced at Jiang Chenyu sitting in the living room watching cartoons, then went to fetch some sesame oil.
Though Jiang Chenyu was covered by her jacket, curled up on the sofa watching cartoons, her peripheral vision kept stealing glances at her.
Before long, a savory aroma filled the room. Jiang Chenyu, who had claimed she wasn’t hungry, licked her upper lip and gazed longingly toward the kitchen.
Shen Hetang turned and caught her gazing with big, dewy eyes—looking utterly ravenous and impossibly endearing.
She carried the bowls out of the kitchen.
“Try some? For a first-time guest, the hospitality is a bit thin—I’m sorry.”
Though she wore a bob, her features and bearing carried a certain aloof coolness. Paired with her naturally rosy lips, she gave off an unapproachable air.
But her actions were kindhearted and measured, with edges when needed. Jiang Chenyu felt very safe with her.
She was always secretly, whether intentionally or not, drifting closer to her.
She had never had many friends growing up, let alone known how to make them. So even though they had been desk-mates for nearly a month, she was still sometimes overly polite.
“Then I won’t hold back!” Jiang Chenyu looked up at her, genuinely happy.
“Mm, eat a few more!” Her gaze fell to Jiang Chenyu’s waist. Remembering that slender waist the little black dress had accentuated—so narrow it looked like it could snap—she suspected this girl’s regular meals were woefully inadequate.
It was truly beautiful to look at, but also alarming to behold.
She held the white porcelain spoon, puffed her cheeks, pursed her lips and blew gently, then slowly brought the fragrant morsel to her mouth.
She ate so demurely and cutely. Shen Hetang’s gaze lingered on her face, forgetting to look away, seized by an impulse to secretly keep her.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Seeing her holding the spoon without moving, Jiang Chenyu asked casually.
“Watching you enjoy it.”
“Cough… cough!” The girl who had just claimed she wasn’t hungry now blushed, covering her face with her hand in embarrassment.
“Take your time. I’ll go boil some water.” She got up and turned on the water heater.
This girl blushed so easily—if anyone ever teased her, how would she manage?
Ever since meeting this new classmate, she felt she had become fussy and over-attentive. Fortunately, she hid it well enough that no one could detect her inner turmoil.
The apartment had two rooms—hers and her grandmother’s. But her grandmother’s room had been piled high a few days ago with ten sacks of cotton bales shipped from afar.
Relatives had hauled them here to sell, and these leftovers had been given to her grandmother at rock-bottom prices, half-sold and half-gifted as a favor.
She still remembered calling over her fellow martial-arts students to help carry the cotton upstairs—each one invisible behind their loads, like walking SpongeBobs.
The enormous sacks had stuffed the little room full. It was already past ten at night—moving them now would be quite an undertaking.
After some thought, she said to Jiang Chenyu, “You can sleep in the bedroom. I’ll take the living room.”
“Why? We’re both girls. What does it matter sleeping in the same room? Or… do you not like me?” Jiang Chenyu’s tone carried a hint of uncertainty, afraid her visit had become a burden.
“No, no, no—I don’t not like you! I just thought you might not be used to it. If you’re fine with it, then let’s share the bedroom!” Shen Hetang waved her hands hastily.
Where did this damned guilt come from?
Footnotes
- Peach-blossom eyes (桃花眼, taohua yan) are a Chinese aesthetic ideal for eyes with slightly upturned outer corners and a dreamy, romantic quality.
- 小电驴 (xiao dianlü), literally 'little electric donkey,' is Chinese slang for an electric scooter or e-bike, a common urban commuter vehicle in modern China.
- 躲得过初一，躲不过十五 (duo de guo chuyi, duo bu guo shiwu) literally means 'you can escape the first, but not the fifteenth,' referring to the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month—a Chinese idiom meaning trouble avoided now will catch up with you later.
- 民不举官不究 (min bu ju guan bu jiu) is a Chinese legal maxim meaning 'if the people don't report it, the officials don't investigate'—implying tacit tolerance as long as no one complains.
- 站着说话不腰疼 (zhan zhe shuohua bu yao teng) literally means 'standing and talking doesn't make your back hurt,' a Chinese idiom for giving easy advice when you're not the one suffering.
- 鲜肉馄饨 (xianrou huntun) are fresh pork wontons—a classic Chinese comfort food of thin wheat wrappers filled with seasoned minced meat and boiled in broth.
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