Chapter 9: The Tug-of-War

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Jiang Mugui didn’t know what he wanted to say and felt there was nothing to discuss between them, so she simply resisted. Mu Anyan rubbed his brow, feeling helpless with her.

In fact, he found everything that happened today quite unexpected. After finishing his business and planning to return to the hotel, he passed by the playground and saw a familiar face swiftly passing by on a stretcher, with someone anxiously calling “Xiao Jiang.” He found the world incredibly small, yet he couldn’t truly ignore this person.

“I know over the years I’ve been distant and cared little for you, so I can understand your attitude toward me.”

Mu Anyan was a little surprised to hear himself say this; he had never spoken like this before or allowed himself to express such feelings. But seeing the girl’s pale face—worn thin and darkened by military training, lying weakly in bed like a frail kitten—he couldn’t help but speak:

“There were some things I didn’t finish saying last time. My marriage to Jiang Wei wasn’t something we could decide on our own, but that doesn’t mean we don’t care about you...”

The girl suddenly threw the blanket off her face and asked, “What do you want to say?”

Mu Anyan wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Seeing her impatience, he got straight to the point: “I hope to make it up to you now, if you’re willing.”

The atmosphere grew quiet. The ticking of the clock on the wall was sharp and piercing.

After a long pause, Jiang Mugui finally said, “Why didn’t you think this way when I was a child?”

Mu Anyan was silent for a moment. Back then, he was furious—Jiang Wei had betrayed him and forced him to become a father unexpectedly. In his anger, he abandoned the family. Jiang Wei was no pushover either; they decided to live separate lives, but in the end, it was Jiang Mugui who got hurt.

Mu Anyan had thought about treating her better during that time, but Jiang Wei treated their daughter as his possession, forbidding any contact, pushing him away completely. He was not one to bow his head easily, which gradually led to the situation they were in today.

Jiang Mugui whispered, “Why do you suddenly want to make it up to me now?”

Mu Anyan remained silent.

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Jiang Mugui smiled bitterly: “But Dad, I don’t need your making up anymore.”

Mu Anyan said no more. For him, lowering his pride and reaching out to Jiang Mugui was already his limit. He almost said, “Rest well, I’ll leave now,” but stopped when he saw moisture welling in her eyes, unable to utter the words.

Suddenly, Jiang Mugui lifted her eyes to him. Her gaze was bright and clear but carried a sharp edge: “Then will you leave Fang Muqing alone and spend more time with my mother? Can you do that?”

A strange feeling struck him to his core.

The Jiang Mugui he remembered was a timid girl who sought to please everyone with every gesture. But at some point, her character had grown a bit prickly.

As she leaned toward him, the scent of rose-scented shower gel wafted from her.

One moment she was damp and vulnerable, stirring his pity; the next, she made a demand that, at such a tender moment, made it cruel even to say "no."

Words were on his lips when suddenly his phone rang.

It was a call from his secretary, interrupting a question he didn’t know how to answer.

Jiang Mugui, showing a tacit understanding, did not ask further and pulled the blanket back over herself.

Sometimes silence is the best answer, isn’t it?

After resting for two days, she rejoined the military training team. Before she requested to rejoin, the school leaders had told her she didn’t have to attend the remaining training sessions, speaking with notable kindness. Jiang Mugui knew Mu Anyan must have said something.

Whether from a rebellious streak or simply not wanting to receive any special treatment related to Mu Anyan, she stubbornly endured until the training was over.

Then came the National Day holiday.

Just as she finished packing to go home, her phone rang—it was Mu Anyan.

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She looked at the three words on the screen, feeling a bit unfamiliar, but after hesitating, she pressed the answer button.

“Going home for National Day?” His steady voice came through the phone, making her ears tingle. He had never called like this before, seemingly intending to follow through on his promise to make amends.

Jiang Mugui’s tone was still a little cold: “Yes.”

Mu Anyan said, “I’ve booked two tickets. Let’s go together.”

She was a little surprised—she thought Mu Anyan had already returned to S City but hadn’t expected he was still in Haicheng. In fact, after she fainted and woke up, Mu Anyan had called twice, but she neither answered nor returned the calls.

Her tone turned teasing: “What, are you coming home to see Mom with me?”

Mu Anyan didn’t fall into her trap: “I’ll wait for you outside your school at 4 p.m. on Saturday.”

After saying this, he hung up first.

Jiang Mugui stared at her phone, lost for words, but she couldn’t refuse. To be precise, both Mu Anyan and Jiang Wei knew her well—she was like a clear spring before them.

They all knew she had always yearned for their love. So they could act as they pleased: Jiang Wei could ignore her on a whim, and Mu Anyan could coldly treat her before unilaterally deciding to “make amends.”

None of this required her consent.