The Miser

The orange sun dipped below the horizon. Back at the hotel, after washing up, Jiang Wenzhe began packing his luggage, preparing to return home the next day.

Although the two of them slept in the same bed, Jiang Wenzhe had still booked a suite when he made the reservation.

He had always been particular about cleanliness, disliking clutter; everything in his line of sight had to be simple. So he used one room for sleeping, and the adjacent room for storing luggage.

Pushing open the door to the next room, he was startled to realize that Lin Sangyu had filled it up at some point without him noticing.

The bed was piled with Jellycat plushies, and on the table sat some local chocolates and butter cookies, a few of which had already been opened, half-eaten, then wrapped up again and put away.

Jiang Wenzhe could even imagine Lin Sangyu, to avoid being discovered by him, hiding in this room alone during the day, nervously eating snacks like a startled mouse, wary of every sound.

He pulled open the cabinet door, and the contents inside were even more of a hodgepodge—dizzying to the eye: various handbags, fridge magnets, tea bags, perfume... and a bottle of Scotch whisky.

Little disobedient thing.

Jiang Wenzhe picked up the bottle and, lowering his voice, called out, "Lin, Sang, Yu."

"Here, here."

Hearing Jiang Wenzhe's displeased tone, Lin Sangyu rushed over at lightning speed. The moment she saw what he was holding, her face turned pale.

The glass bottle thudded against the table with a dull sound. Jiang Wenzhe's entire demeanor cooled by a degree. His jaw tightened as he lowered his brow and said, "Explain."

"I didn't drink it," Lin Sangyu said frantically, snatching the bottle back and showing him the intact seal. "See?"

"Of course I know you didn't drink it. But you bought it, which means you intend to drink it later."

Tap, tap, tap—

Jiang Wenzhe's fingers drummed rhythmically on the table. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Lin Sangyu with an air of leisurely expectation, curious to see what excuse she'd come up with this time.

Lin Sangyu spoke without missing a beat: "Who said I was going to drink it? Don't accuse me. I just bought some local specialties to bring home and put on display. You have plenty of alcohol in your liquor cabinet too."

"That's different. Have you ever seen me drink?" Jiang Wenzhe countered.

"You did at Tang Lin's wedding last time. I saw you," Lin Sangyu said matter-of-factly.

"...I don't drink in private. That was a necessary public occasion," Jiang Wenzhe tossed the bottle into a bag and warned, "I don't smoke or drink, so you shouldn't pick up bad habits either. If I find out, you can guess what will happen."

Lin Sangyu scoffed at him, but knowing she was in the wrong, she didn't push it.

"It's for your own good anyway. If you really want to drink, you can have some fruit wine. That distilled liquor is bad for your health if you drink too much," Jiang Wenzhe then picked up a cookie from the table. "Are you bringing this back too?"

"Yes, yes, yes." Lin Sangyu nodded eagerly.

"Can't you buy it in China?"

Even if she couldn't, she could have it shipped over.

"It's different," she said. "Remember to pack it all up and bring it back. Don't waste any. I want to eat it." Lin Sangyu hugged Jiang Wenzhe, acting cute, resting her chin on his chest and beaming.

Jiang Wenzhe ignored her coaxing. "Don't buy so much next time. If you want something, you can buy it back home."

"But it feels different." Lin Sangyu hugged him tighter.

"...Fine, suit yourself."

After a few more moments of dawdling chat, Lin Sangyu hurried back to her room to edit videos. Though she seemed unreliable, she was indeed the type who, if a task could be completed that day, would never put it off to the next.

Night had fully fallen. The two went about their own business in their separate rooms, not disturbing each other—separated by a wall, both focused on the task at hand.

Compared to Lin Sangyu's video-editing workload, Jiang Wenzhe's packing was much quicker. He finished and quietly returned to the main bedroom.

The gilded crystal chandelier cast a soft, warm glow. Lin Sangyu sat cross-legged on the single armchair, wearing headphones, one hand on the mouse, the other flying over the keyboard.

On the screen were the dozen or so videos filmed during the day. As the mouse slid, the images replayed frame by frame before her eyes.

Jiang Wenzhe stood silently behind her, his gaze fixed and unblinking.

Many times, Jiang Wenzhe had to admit that Lin Sangyu, who seemed air-headed on the surface, was actually amazing—amazing in every way.

So amazing that after everything she'd been through, those hardships seemed like nothing more than a light drizzle in her life. Once the wind stopped and the rain ceased, the sun would come out, drying her drenched self, and her heart would burn hot again.

The first time she transformed into human form, when she saw her paws become human limbs—what had she been thinking then?

Did she tremble in fear, thinking she was a monster?

When she first entered the orphanage, when she was bullied, hungry, and cold—did she cry like she did in front of him, wailing loudly? Or did she not even dare to cry, grieving alone in solitude?

When she turned back into a sugar glider, if other animals fought her for food, could she win? Would she get bitten? Would she lick her wounds alone in the pitch-black night?

Jiang Wenzhe unconsciously raised a hand to the scar on his chest, now so faded it was almost invisible.

So when she'd bitten someone out of stress back then, was it also because she felt happiness was still far away, and she had to stay on guard at all times?

His thick lashes lowered and raised. In his line of sight, Lin Sangyu had shifted positions again, resting the laptop on her thighs, leaning lazily back in the chair.

In the quiet air, a very soft sigh escaped.

But it vanished quickly, replaced by the louder clatter of keystrokes.

Had she been wronged in the human world? Had naughty children thrown stones at her? Had someone tried to catch her and keep her at home, and she fled in panic?

Jiang Wenzhe had so many whys.

But he didn't dare ask a single one.

Because he knew Lin Sangyu had endured a lot, a lot of suffering.

But amazingly, with her strong heart, she'd pulled through it all.

Just like now—even though she knew nothing at first, with some pointers from her teacher and her own trial and error, she'd quickly gone from a complete computer novice to being able to fully edit videos on her own.

She didn't wallow in self-pity, didn't lament her weakness, didn't surrender her autonomy.

Lin Sangyu was a sugar glider, yet she didn't learn to migrate like an animal. Instead, she was a resilient flower—no matter how barren the soil, she stayed rooted, dug deep, and bloomed with brilliant colors.

Lin Sangyu was amazing, incredibly amazing. Jiang Wenzhe wholeheartedly agreed.

"Hey, when did you get behind me?"

Lin Sangyu had just finished editing her video, hands and neck aching. She laced her fingers together and stretched widely, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jiang Wenzhe standing behind her.

Jiang Wenzhe said indifferently, "A while now."

"Then why didn't you call me?"

Jiang Wenzhe stepped forward, and Lin Sangyu, like a boneless creature, leaned her whole body against his waist, her expression relaxed.

"Wasn't I afraid of disturbing you?"

"So considerate?" Jiang Wenzhe rarely said nice things, and Lin Sangyu looked at him in disbelief, her round eyes wide.

"Of course," Jiang Wenzhe bent his arm, rubbing the back of his neck, and twisted it a few times. "If you don't finish, I can't sleep. Tomorrow is another ten-hour long haul, so I have to be good to myself."

Fine, so she'd overthought it.

"Pfft, you only care about yourself."

"True," Jiang Wenzhe said with a serious face. "So let me remind you again: there are only ten days left until my birthday. Remember to prepare a birthday gift for me. Don't be perfunctory."

"You're going to ask for it? How could you," Lin Sangyu chided him. "I can give it voluntarily, but you can't ask for it."

"Where did you learn that toxic-masculinity quote from? I don't understand. I gave you the main card—pick something nice."

Then, thinking of the cabinet full of cheap stuff he'd just packed, Jiang Wenzhe pinched her earlobe and added, "The unit price must not be under a hundred thousand."

"Oh, so it's your money. Why didn't you say so earlier?" Lin Sangyu's tone brightened as if a weight had been lifted. "Wait for it—your 32nd birthday gift will be the best."

"Did you think it was your own money?" Jiang Wenzhe picked up a strand of Lin Sangyu's hair that hung over her chest and rubbed it between his fingers.

"Yeah."

With that, Lin Sangyu solemnly opened her savings balance.

It shone brightly: a fortune of 5,547.27 yuan.

"I know my savings are already a lot, but compared to buying you a gift, they're still a bit short. When I found out you wanted a birthday gift, I was so stressed I could barely breathe."

That was a bit ridiculous. Jiang Wenzhe asked, "I stressed you out?"

"Yeah. Who told you to be so extravagant? I just started earning money and you're already squeezing me dry. Wouldn't anyone be stressed?"

Jiang Wenzhe summarized objectively, "Fine, got it. You little miser."

Hitting a nerve, Lin Sangyu immediately bristled: "Don't call me that!"

Jiang Wenzhe repeated casually, "Oh, the miser."

Lin Sangyu shot back without backing down: "Fine, you gold digger."

"?" A flicker of disbelief crossed Jiang Wenzhe's face. "Gold digger? Where did you learn that? Do you even know what it means?"

"It means you live off my money."

"How so?" Jiang Wenzhe genuinely wanted to crack open Lin Sangyu's head to see what was inside.

He really should consider cutting off her internet.

Lin Sangyu adjusted her position, kneeling upright on the chair cushion, hands resting on the backrest, and spoke leisurely: "You called me a miser, which means you want me to spend money. You want me to spend money, so you're a gold digger."

Jiang Wenzhe was completely deflated by this twisted logic and said, "Fine, fine. From now on, you don't have to spend a cent in this house."

If that makes you feel safer.

Suddenly, a phone call rang out jarringly.

Jiang Wenzhe picked up his phone, and when he saw who was calling, his expression changed slightly. He turned and left the room.

The old streetlamp cast a hazy, dim glow; thick fog lurked beneath the night, and the world was quiet.

The first thing the voice on the other end said was:

"Mr. Jiang, the final version of the engagement banquet has been revised. It's been sent to your email. Please take a look."