The First Taste of Happiness

A deep, low, masculine voice echoed from the other end of the line, carrying a hint of lazy teasing: “Dumped, huh? Hmm. Tang Xiaodian, why don’t you consider me?” I pouted, pushing back the suggestion: “No need, you’re too old.” The other person laughed, slightly annoyed: “What do you know? Older men know how to spoil a woman.”

That conversation happened much later. Right now, Tang Xiaodian was still just a country girl, stepping into the Giang family’s opulent villa for the first time—the new home for my mother and me. My best dress, a slightly faded one-piece, looked tragically out of place against the extravagant backdrop. Even the guard was much better dressed than me.

Under the scorching summer sun, the roar of a heavy-duty motorcycle tore through the quiet air, followed by the screech of brakes violently scraping the asphalt. I froze in fear. Several teenagers, about seventeen or eighteen, stopped right beside me.

The leader took off his helmet. Jiang Huai. His eyes, which should have been gentle, now held a sharp, cold gaze, radiating an air of reckless arrogance. He wore a simple silver necklace.

“Newcomer?” He gave a half-smile, a casual smirk that made me clutch my suitcase tighter. “Name?”

“Tang Xiaodian,” I whispered.

The smirk on his face deepened, mockingly: “Your mother is about to marry into the Giang family. Why are you still using the Tang surname?”

That was my first encounter with the young master of the Giang family, a notorious figure known for his unruly temper and defiant arrogance, a person who, as I would later learn, harbored immediate hostility towards my mother and me.

My mother, after years of hardship since my father’s death in a covered-up construction accident, finally found a haven. Her marriage to Uncle Giang instantly transformed me into a “Miss Giang” in the eyes of outsiders. Lying on the soft bed, I felt uneasy; everything reminded me that I didn’t belong. But for my mother’s happiness, I couldn’t be selfish.

Jiang Huai didn’t accept my mother, and naturally, didn’t like me either. He used his rebellious facade to hide his loneliness. I understood, as I too grew up in an incomplete family. I told myself that no matter how bad his temper was, he was still my brother. My mother advised me to use gentleness and sincerity to win him over. Looking at his door slamming shut, I knew this would be a long battle.

The wedding of my mother and Uncle Giang was where I first met Pei Li. He was an important business partner of Uncle Giang, the youngest CEO of the Pei Group, only 27, with an unshakeable position in the industry. My mother warned me to be careful, as he was rumored to be “cold, unemotional, and never showed mercy.”

Fate, however, had other plans. Blocked by a group of arrogant girls who mocked me and threatened to pour wine on me, I managed to dodge and, in a moment of defiance, splashed my fruit juice on their ringleader’s dress. Panicked, I rushed into a room and collided with a tall man.

“He was truly tall. I only reached his chest.”

The man smoothly wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace. My cheek pressed against his chest, heated by his body temperature, faintly smelling of subtle tobacco. Looking up nervously, my eyes met his deep, dark ones.

“Stand steady,” his low, pleasant voice made my heart race.

I quickly broke free, stammering an apology and calling him “Brother.” He raised an eyebrow, then introduced himself.

“Pei Li, my name. Given the relationship, you should call me Uncle.”

My ears burned. The person my mother warned me never to offend, I had just slighted. I immediately corrected myself: “Hello, Uncle.”

He gave a lazy “Hmm,” and then said something that made my heart flutter: “Very well-behaved.”

Throughout the reception, being seen with Pei Li tacitly acknowledged my status, making everyone treat me with immense respect. I sat in a corner, my eyes unconsciously tracking him. He was striking, handsome, and composed, his long, slender fingers idly tracing the rim of a wine glass. But when I looked away, I caught Jiang Huai’s dark, icy gaze. He was sitting in another corner, a lit cigarette between his fingers, looking straight at me with a complex mix of anger and resentment.

I escaped the party unscathed, but that night, Jiang Huai missed dinner. I went to the kitchen to reheat food for him. When I stood at his door, he opened it, radiating coldness.

“Brother, didn’t you eat dinner?”

“What does that have to do with you?” he retorted coldly.

I pretended not to notice his indifference and gently placed the food on his desk. Just as I was about to leave, Jiang Huai called out: “Tang Xiaodian.”

“Yes?”

He frowned, his voice a little sharp: “I heard those girls gave you trouble at the party today… Since you’re in the Giang family now, don’t lose face. If someone bullies you, fight back. You have people to back you up.”

He slammed the door shut. I stood there, stunned. His words were cold, but the underlying sentiment was undeniably caring and protective.

Since that night, I was no longer afraid of Jiang Huai. I actively, even forcefully, inserted myself into his life. Although he always looked annoyed and rejected my closeness, I would just smile cheerfully. After a year of persistence, he seemed to accept me as family. He would lift me onto the back seat of his motorcycle, secure my helmet, and say: “Hold on tight, don’t scream in my ear again.” Yet, the motorcycle’s speed was always slightly slower.

My relationship with Jiang Huai gradually softened, but my secret crush on Pei Li grew deeper.

He often came over for dinner, and I always found excuses to walk in the yard to “accidentally” run into him. I was so reserved and nervous that he mistakenly thought I was afraid of him.

“Mr. Pei is so young, I don’t want to call you Uncle,” I flushed, challenging the title to narrow the perceived gap.

Pei Li looked at me and chuckled softly, as if seeing through my nervousness: “It’s nothing. I just suddenly realized that our Xiaodian has quite the expressive eyes.”

“Xiaodian.” It was the first time he used that intimate name. My heart nearly lost control.

I knew the distance between us was vast. He saw me only as a child, a junior. So, I buried my secret deep, making him my motivation. I studied diligently, aiming for the best university, the one Pei Li had attended.

The biggest turning point came in the summer after my university entrance exams. I plucked up the courage to call Pei Li. His voice on the phone was cold and distant, unlike the Pei Li I knew.

“Mr. Mr. Pei, I’m Tang Xiaodian.”

I nervously explained my desire to intern at the Pei Group, which was a leader in jewelry design.

He listened silently, then his familiar, lazy voice came back: “It’s good that you want to learn. Come and report tomorrow. I’ll call Uncle Giang. Just come straight to my office on the top floor tomorrow.”

I was so happy I couldn’t stop smiling. Just before I could hang up, Pei Li called out: “Xiaodian.”

“Yes?” I worried he might change his mind.

He simply said softly: “Next time you call me, don’t be so nervous.”

A simple sentence, yet it sent my heart racing uncontrollably. I later learned that the call was connected while he was in a high-level board meeting, and he had paused the meeting just to take my call.

On my first day at the company, Pei Li unexpectedly showed me incredible tolerance. He arranged my workspace right inside his office, separated only by a glass partition. He could see me working.

With his undisguised favor, I became the most unique intern. He maintained his composure, but that very composure was my greatest shield. The physical distance was closed, but the gap in age and status remained.

I know the road ahead is long. But at least, right now, I have stepped into his world, right next to him. The reflection in his office window is not just the city light, but the light of hope in my heart. Happiness doesn’t have to be spectacular; it just needs to be the unique indulgence and gentleness he shows me.