Worlds Apart | Chapter 39 | A Gesture of Devotion | Novela.app

Chapter 39 - A Gesture of Devotion Although the relationship between Xiao Fengtai and Tiffany was far from harmonious, they were, in every sense of the word, childhood friends. Over the years, Tiffany’s persistence had been nothing short of moving, yet Xiao Fengtai’s response remained as frigid as ever. Whether the two parties realized it or not, their relationship had reached a state of dynamic equilibrium. This balance allowed Xiao Fengtai, despite his irritation, to tolerate her frequent intrusions into the Xiao Residence. After all, she was a girl he had watched grow up; they knew each other’s backgrounds intimately. He never imagined that her current trip to Singapore could stir up any significant trouble. Of course, his cousin’s schemes were more than enough to handle someone like David. Xiao Fengtai felt he had fulfilled his duty as a friend by providing ample risk warnings; if David suffered for it, he had no one to blame but himself. As the summer break drew to a close, perhaps due to the looming pressure of university applications or the fact that the enthusiastic local boys at school had finally piqued her interest, the frequency of Tiffany’s visits to the Xiao Residence dropped significantly. Early one Saturday morning, as Xiao Fengtai hurriedly packed his bag for his appointment with Jiang Tong, he spotted Tiffany sitting in the living room sipping tea. He felt a rare, fleeting sense of warmth at the sight of her and paused to offer a greeting. *Since Grandmother is coming to Singapore soon,* he thought, *and Tiffany’s time in Asia is already on a countdown, I might as well be civil.* It was a wishful thought. He did not realize that the delicate balance of their relationship had already been shattered by Madam Xiao’s intervention. In Tiffany’s mind, she was no longer merely a distant cousin traveling a thousand miles for love; she was now an imperial envoy sent by the matriarch to scout the Far East. With her status validated, her confidence surged. This newfound boldness drove her to cross an invisible boundary, stepping directly into Xiao Fengtai’s path and staring into his startled eyes. "Where do you think you're going?" she demanded loudly. "It’s none of your business." Xiao Fengtai tried to sidestep her, but she blocked his way again. "What are you doing?" he asked coldly. He realized this delay would likely make him late, and when he considered how precious and brief his time with Jiang Tong was, a spark of irritation flared within him. *The first thing I’ll do when Grandmother arrives is convince her to take this brat back to England.* "Are you going to your Chinese lesson?" Tiffany took another step forward, her gaze fixed and intense. "Take me with you. I want to tutor my Chinese as well." Xiao Fengtai’s patience reached its limit. He tried to brush past her to leave, but the girl reached out and seized his arm. This was his first instance of physical contact with Tiffany. Looking back later, he would only remember the dull ache in his arm and the numbing sensation of restricted blood flow. Tiffany’s slender fingers were like steel pincers digging into his flesh, the veins on the back of her hand bulging from the sheer force of her grip. Startled, Xiao Fengtai forgot to break free, allowing her to seize the opportunity to throw herself into his arms. "Cousin, I love you!" Tiffany’s voice was suddenly, impossibly close. "I really, really love you!" "Have you lost your mind?" A boy his age possessed far more strength than a girl. Once Xiao Fengtai cast aside his politeness, tearing her off him was effortless. However, the struggle left them both disheveled. Their hair was a mess, their clothes were wrinkled, and even Xiao Fengtai’s backpack had been partially unzipped during the scuffle. "Escort Miss Tiffany out," Xiao Fengtai commanded the servants as he bolted for the door, not even sparing her a backward glance. "I don’t want to see her here when I get home." Tiffany’s uncharacteristic outburst at the Xiao Residence made his tardiness a certainty. By the time he arrived at Jiang Tong’s apartment, he was still shaken, his lingering awkwardness from their previous cold war completely forgotten. "Look at this," he said, rolling up his sleeve to show Jiang Tong the evidence of Tiffany’s "assault." Xiao Fengtai’s skin was fair; though the finger marks had mostly faded during the commute, a faint, ghostly trace remained. "That girl is usually annoying, but she at least used to have some sense of propriety. I don’t know what happened today—it was like she was a different person." "How did it get this bad?" Jiang Tong’s concern was written clearly across his face. He cradled Xiao Fengtai’s elbow as if it were fragile porcelain, wanting to touch it but hesitating. Finally, he stood up and headed for the kitchen. "I’ll get some ice. It’ll make the marks fade faster." "It’s not that serious," Xiao Fengtai tried to protest, but Jiang Tong gently pressed him down onto the sofa. Within moments, Jiang Tong had crushed some ice, bagged it, and pressed it against his arm through a towel. The towel was freezing, the chill seeping through his skin and extinguishing the smoldering embers of frustration in his heart. Xiao Fengtai struggled to keep a straight face, thinking of the Chinese idiom about a blessing in disguise. If he had known Jiang Tong would be this attentive, he would have let Tiffany pinch him a little harder. But this was only the beginning of the surprises. Jiang Tong paced the room twice, lost in thought for a moment, before retrieving a folder from the bedroom and placing it on the sofa. "This is for you." He offered no further explanation. Confused, Xiao Fengtai opened the folder. His eyes met a dense grid of small squares on A4 paper—a comprehensive six-month timeline. The SAT dates, TOEFL dates, application deadlines for top-tier American universities, and estimated interview windows were all marked with meticulous clarity. Colored sticky notes with the names of different schools were attached to the plastic sleeves. As he flipped through the pages, he found the specific essay requirements for each university, minimum admission scores, standout departments, and application steps that Jiang Tong deemed vital—all carefully bound and categorized. The thin folder was so overstuffed with content that it could barely stay closed. "The application process for the US is very tedious. If you do it yourself without an agency, you’re bound to miss something. You can look through this when you have time; consider it a memorandum." Jiang Tong paused. "At this stage... there isn't much else I can do for you. But if there is anything you need from me, you must tell me." Jiang Tong’s explanation was concise, yet it stirred a tempest in Xiao Fengtai’s heart. A scalding, overwhelming wave of love surged through him, making his fingertips tingle. Without a word, he tossed the ice pack aside, lunged into Jiang Tong’s arms, and kissed him deeply. How could he have ever doubted Jiang Tong’s feelings? Half from a lack of oxygen and half from sheer joy, Xiao Fengtai felt the small living room begin to spin clockwise. He closed his eyes, surrendering the full weight of his body to Jiang Tong. He clung to Jiang Tong, half-embracing and half-hanging off him, causing the older man to stumble back until they both collapsed onto the bed. Their hands searched each other with frantic urgency, clumsily undoing buttons and zippers. Words were superfluous now; the intensity of their emotion had reached a limit that could only be released through the most primal, physical means. The caresses, the kisses, the embraces—they were both intimately familiar with the steps of their physical dance. They were only one step away from a new, secret realm where their relationship would undergo a qualitative metamorphosis. Yet, once again, Jiang Tong reined himself in at the precipice. If they weren't already stripped bare, Xiao Fengtai might have suspected he was hiding some physical ailment. He bit Jiang Tong’s shoulder in a fit of playful spite, leaving a bright red tooth mark on the man’s firm muscle. "Eighty-nine days left," he hissed into Jiang Tong’s ear. "I’m counting every single one." The young man didn't speak. Instead, he handed Xiao Fengtai his phone. Xiao Fengtai immediately saw a new app icon on the home screen—a stark white calendar displaying two prominent black Roman numerals. 89. Xiao Fengtai burst into a helpless laugh, rolling over to lie flat on the bed with one hand draped over his eyes. In the self-imposed darkness, he refused to acknowledge just how foolishly happy his smile was. Though there was no substantive breakthrough in the end, the process had been intensely real. The path from the living room to the bedroom was a mess of discarded items. Xiao Fengtai’s ill-fated backpack lay upside down on the floor; when he moved to pick it up, books, papers, and stationery spilled out in a chaotic heap. "Is this yours?" Jiang Tong helped him tidy up, picking a small keychain out of the pile of papers. The metal ring was slightly deformed, but the pendant was intact—a tiny cube woven from black Swarovski crystals, scintillating in the sunlight. "No way." Xiao Fengtai frowned as he recalled the morning’s events. "It’s probably my cousin’s. It must have gotten snagged on my bag during the scuffle." He carelessly stuffed the pendant back into his bag. *I’ll find someone to return it to her later,* he thought nonchalantly as he prepared to leave. He could have simply thrown the pendant into the trash. But today had been a perfect day, and Xiao Fengtai planned to give it a perfect ending—even if it meant being civil to the inexplicably crazed Tiffany. After all, she wouldn't be in Asia much longer anyway. ***