Chapter 11: Where Is It Small?

A few days later, Liang Jinshang received a message requesting her to suspend tutoring Shang Aor. She was not surprised at all, for she knew all too well that Gong Xueyuan was someone who would never let a slight go unpunished. Coincidentally, her graduation project model had entered a grueling, fast-paced phase, so she simply devoted herself to working in the model classroom for over half a month.

During this period, besides Shang Aor, Zhao Xinghe would also reach out to her from time to time. Upon learning of the age difference between them, he began addressing her as “sister,” bright and candid, always respectful, making it impossible for anyone to dislike him.

Thus, at Zhao Xinghe’s request and with Shang Aor’s encouragement, Liang Jinshang began tutoring Zhao Xinghe first. She needed a great deal of money, and earning it through her own work was nothing to be ashamed of.

When Liang Jinshang arrived at the Zhao residence, she had expected that anyone who could be friends with Shang Aor would hardly come from an ordinary family, but the garden—complete with fountains and an enormous artificial lake—still left her wide-eyed with wonder.

After two tutoring sessions, Liang Jinshang said to Zhao Xinghe, “Starting next week, I won’t be coming anymore.”

“Why, sister?”

She glanced at him with a half-smile. Her pupils were darker and brighter than most, making Zhao Xinghe feel as if she could see straight through him.

“My abilities can’t help you. You don’t need to keep pretending to be clueless.”

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted Zhao Xinghe’s attempt at an explanation. His usual playful grin vanished when he saw the visitor, and he obediently called out, “Brother.”

The newcomer came straight to the point. “Xinghe, I’d like to borrow your tutor for a favor.”

At the sound of his voice, Liang Jinshang turned and caught sight of a face one would not soon forget. Clad in top-tier luxury leisurewear, exuding an unmistakable sense of upper-class reserve and elegance, yet his lips were curved in a genial smile, making one feel as if bathed in a gentle spring breeze.

The visitor smiled at Liang Jinshang, but upon seeing her face clearly, his brows furrowed ever so slightly and his expression grew hesitant.

Liang Jinshang had always been aware of her own beauty. Though her looks were not the kind to stun at first glance, no one had ever responded to her appearance with such an expression before. She was momentarily displeased and kept silent. Zhao Xinghe, sensing her mood, asked on her behalf, “Brother, what do you need Miss Liang for?”

The man pressed his lips together. “Bu Qingqing is here again. I wanted to borrow Miss Liang to play a part and make her give up, but...”

Zhao Xinghe quickly explained to Liang Jinshang—it was a typical story of a woman chasing a man. Clearly, this striking gentleman was weary of being pursued and hoped Liang Jinshang could pose as his official girlfriend to send the persistent suitor away.

Liang Jinshang raised an eyebrow and repeated, “But...?”

“You think I’m not convincing enough to make her lose hope?”

“No, no, don’t misunderstand.” The man waved a hand gracefully. “You’re too young—hmm, perhaps not my type. Sorry, it’s my own issue.”

Liang Jinshang was thrown off by his focus and unconsciously straightened up. “What do you mean, too young?”

It’s not just men who are sensitive about being called “young”—women are, too, after all.

“...Your looks,” Zhao Jingyu replied, a touch helplessly. “You look too young. I’d feel like some shameless old pervert.”

Liang Jinshang shot a glance at Zhao Xinghe; these brothers apparently shared the same questionable taste.

The man apologized once more for disturbing her, then closed the door and left swiftly.

Watching his retreating figure, Liang Jinshang felt a strange sense of familiarity from the very first moment she saw him. Those brief exchanges were an attempt to jog her memory of where they might have met before.

A sudden flash of clarity struck her. She turned sharply to Zhao Xinghe. “Is your brother’s name Zhao Jingyu?!”

“Yes, do you know him?”

Liang Jinshang sprang to her feet and hurried after Zhao Jingyu. “Dr. Zhao, I can help you!”

Zhao Jingyu was not surprised to hear her address him so.

He was the nation’s foremost expert in neurology, and to speak without false modesty, the renown his profession brought him was hardly less than the honor of his family name.

Hands in his pockets, Zhao Jingyu looked down at her and spoke frankly, “Miss Liang, thank you for your offer, but Bu Qingqing knows very well that I prefer... a mature style. She won’t believe you’re my lover.”

“I’ll make her believe,” Liang Jinshang insisted. “Find me a more alluring dress.”

Today she wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans—far too student-like. Her face was only part of the issue; styling and aura were another, and those could be changed.

This Zhao Jingyu was Liang Xizhou’s most distant yet final hope. She had once done everything she could to book an appointment with him as a specialist, but it was nearly impossible no matter the price. Over the past few years, she’d scoured every bit of information about Zhao Jingyu, which explained why his face seemed so familiar at first glance.

“There aren’t any women’s clothes in my house,” Zhao Jingyu declined politely but with a touch of distance. “Let’s just forget it, but thank you.”

“Then lend me one of your white shirts!” Liang Jinshang paused, then looked up at him with a sudden, dazzling smile—like a night-blooming flower in full glory. “If a woman is attractive enough, no matter what a man’s usual preference is, he’ll be drawn to her.”

Zhao Jingyu stared at her in silence for a few seconds. “All right, I’ll leave it to you, then.”

In the light of her smile, those slightly audacious words suddenly sounded utterly convincing—he, as a man, could find no argument against them.