Chapter 12: Who Is This?

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At her words, Zhu Jieyu’s eyes flashed with an almost imperceptible trace of panic and embarrassment.

She forced a somewhat stiff smile.

“When did Xiaowen come back?” she asked, trying to cover her unease. “I really had no idea. That girl is always giving people something to worry about.”

Left with no choice, and feeling somewhat guilty, she shifted aside to let Jiang Zhaoyang into the house.

Jiang Zhaoyang stepped inside.

The interior was decorated with elegant luxury.

From the exquisite chandelier to the antique coffee table, every piece of furniture spoke of the owner’s refined taste and relentless pursuit of a high-quality life. The famous calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls lent the space an added air of cultural sophistication.

Yet Jiang Zhaoyang had no mind to admire any of it.

He slowly bent down, slipped off his shoes, and placed them gently on the floor of the entryway. Then he lowered his head, searching for the familiar, comfortable slippers he always wore.

But the sight before him filled him with inexplicable surprise—the slippers had vanished without a trace.

With no alternative, he turned and took a spare pair from the corner of the shoe cabinet.

They were somewhat narrow and tight. The discomfort spread instantly from his toes throughout his body. He tried taking a few steps, but his gait was awkward and unsteady.

He could not help giving a bitter smile.

A trace of embarrassment crossed his face, and he secretly hoped no one had noticed how disheveled he looked.

Once he had barely adjusted to the ill-fitting slippers, he slowly entered the living room.

The scene before him brought him to an abrupt halt, as though time itself had frozen.

He blinked, thinking he must be dreaming—or perhaps suffering some kind of visual illusion.

Yet the sight before him remained clear and real. Several birthday candles on the table swayed gently in the breeze, their flames dancing.

They were like the brightest stars in the night, adding warmth and mystery to the tranquil evening.

Surrounded by the candles, a large cream birthday cake rested quietly on the table. The golden cream gleamed enticingly beneath the soft light.

Jiang Zhaoyang stood stunned.

In that instant, his face flushed crimson, as though stained by the fiery glow of sunset clouds.

He cursed himself inwardly, remorse surging through him like a rising tide.

So today was Liu Wen’s birthday!

He realized that, because his mood had been so wretched, he had forgotten to pick up the birthday cake he had ordered from the most luxurious hotel in the county town.

He had even forgotten her birthday entirely.

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When Jiang Zhaoyang stood empty-handed before Liu Wen—her makeup exquisite, her figure graceful, and her beauty mature and alluring—her expression changed from anticipation to disappointment.

At last, it hardened into an indescribable displeasure.

Her voice, usually as gentle as a spring breeze, was now cold and distant. She uttered only two words:

“Have a seat.”

Those two simple words struck the room like a bitter winter wind, piercing the living room and making the already awkward atmosphere even more frozen.

A subtle tension hung in the air.

Just as Jiang Zhaoyang was struggling to ease the awkwardness and searching for something to say, an even more startling discovery presented itself.

There was another uninvited guest in the living room.

Judging from the man’s back, he seemed strangely familiar.

Who was he? Why had he appeared at his fiancée’s birthday gathering?

Jiang Zhaoyang’s brows drew tightly together. An indescribable suspicion and unease rose within him.

He tried piecing together fragments of memory to identify the figure.

Suddenly, the man turned around.

Jiang Zhaoyang froze.

It was as if lightning had struck him. His vision gradually sharpened, and the figure before him came into clear focus.

“It’s you?” he exclaimed incredulously, his voice filled with undisguised shock.

The man was none other than He Di.

He Di, however, showed no surprise at all.

Jiang Zhaoyang knew that He Di and Liu Wen were acquainted, but theirs had always been nothing more than a casual nodding acquaintance. They knew each other, and that was all.

He had never imagined that they were familiar enough for He Di to suddenly appear in the Liu family home.

His gaze inadvertently fell upon the sofa and coffee table in the living room.

Two exquisitely packaged cartons of Zhonghua cigarettes and two bottles of extremely expensive Moutai liquor had been placed there.

Without a doubt, they had been brought by He Di.

If someone else had delivered the gifts several days earlier, Zhu Jieyu—given her personality—would have carefully put them away long ago. She would never have left them so casually displayed on the living-room table.

Such lavish gifts.

What could they be for?

Questions swirled through Jiang Zhaoyang’s mind.

When Liu Huang saw Jiang Zhaoyang arrive, a barely perceptible coldness appeared in his expression.

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He said in an indifferent tone, “Xiao Jiang, you’re here. Sit down.”

“Yes, thank you, Uncle Liu,” Jiang Zhaoyang replied obediently, then slowly took a seat beside the table.

A trace of guilt lingered on his face.

Turning to Liu Wen, he said softly, “Xiaowen, about your birthday… I was so busy that I completely overlooked it.”

Liu Wen was just about to speak when He Di cut in first, his words carrying a hint of mockery.

“Director Jiang, that really is your fault.”

He deliberately emphasized the word “Director,” making its meaning unmistakable.

“What exactly did I do wrong?” Jiang Zhaoyang shot back with a look of disdain.

A meaningful smile curled across He Di’s lips.

He spoke slowly. “Even if you receive news as shocking as a bolt from the blue, you still have to remain calm and composed. There’s no need to panic.”

“Once you lose your bearings, you won’t be able to handle anything properly.”

At that point, he paused deliberately, as though waiting for Jiang Zhaoyang’s reaction.

Liu Wen cut in.

Her voice held both reproach and disappointment. “I called you several times today. Why didn’t you answer?”

Jiang Zhaoyang had just opened his mouth to explain when He Di interrupted once again.

“That’s true. If I hadn’t happened to answer that call, Xiaowen’s birthday would probably have been painfully awkward and completely devoid of cheer.”

There was a note of smugness in his voice, along with unmistakable provocation.

Jiang Zhaoyang’s heart lurched, and a jolt ran through his entire body.

So that colleague had been He Di all along.

He had not even left yet, and He Di was already unable to restrain himself, eagerly trying to occupy his office?

Had he even brazenly charged his newly purchased phone in Jiang Zhaoyang’s office?

Taking over the magpie’s nest?

Jiang Zhaoyang understood everything in an instant.

He Di had used his phone to secretly speak with Liu Wen, thereby learning the important fact of her birthday.

Or perhaps he had tricked Liu Wen by asking whether she needed anything and claiming that he would pass the message along, thus finding out when her birthday was.

In the end, this scheming man had deliberately failed to tell her.

Then he had used the opportunity to ingratiate himself with the Liu family.

That bastard had actually begun plotting against Liu Wen behind his back?

Perhaps he had coveted her for a long time, harboring designs on her all along.

This time, he did not merely want to take Jiang Zhaoyang’s position.

He even intended to take his fiancée for himself.

Jiang Zhaoyang recalled all the flattery and obsequiousness He Di had shown him in the past.

A wave of revulsion rose within him.