**Chapter 1004: Can I Hug You?**
There was a spot between Jiang Jingyu and his mom, so she plopped down, handed the alcohol to her mother, wiped the sweat off her forehead, and said, "Here."
Then she turned to explain to Jiang Jingyu.
"My dad doesn’t usually drink, so we don’t have any good liquor at home. This is the best I could find at the supermarket. Make do with it—don’t judge."
So she’d gone out to buy alcohol for him.
Jiang Jingyu wanted to say, *But I’m driving. Your dad doesn’t drink—what am I supposed to do with this alone?*
But before he could, Tong’s mom had already cracked open the bottle.
"Come on, Xiao Jiang, you’ve helped our family so much today. Auntie really wants to thank you properly."
"Don’t mind the simple meal or the cheap alcohol. I might not have much to offer, but my gratitude is real. Her dad’s health isn’t great, so I’ll drink with you instead. You can’t refuse—or else Auntie will be upset."
Jiang Jingyu hadn’t expected such a formidable woman in the family. He hadn’t planned on drinking, but with that kind of talk, he had no choice but to take the glass.
"After I finish this, let’s never bring up the house thing again, okay? Auntie, I hope we only grow closer from here. This one’s to you."
They clinked glasses and downed their drinks. Only then did Jiang Jingyu remember to ask Tong An’an,
"What about you? Drinking?"
Tong An’an waved her hand. "No, I’ve never had alcohol in my life. I can’t handle it at all."
Jiang Jingyu said, "Then do you know how to drive? I’ve been drinking—you’ll have to drive us back later."
Tong An’an had gotten her driver’s license in college, but she hadn’t touched a car since.
"Besides, your car is so expensive. I wouldn’t dare."
"It’s fine. It’s easy—I’ll guide you."
"What if I crash it?"
"Then you crash it. There’s insurance. Crash all you want."
Tong’s mom also encouraged her, saying she needed to be bolder.
"If you’re always this timid, when will you ever learn? Since Xiao Jiang is letting you drive, just go for it. Once you get the hang of it, you can bring him over for dinner more often. I’ll cook even better meals for you both."
Jiang Jingyu shamelessly agreed right away.
"Auntie, your cooking is amazing. I’ll definitely come back whenever I can."
The meal was nothing short of warm and joyful.
Jiang Jingyu and Tong’s mom finished an entire bottle of liquor together, and neither showed the slightest sign of being affected.
After dinner, Tong An’an rushed to do the dishes. Jiang Jingyu felt bad, but her mom waved it off.
"She does the dishes most of the time anyway. As part of the family, she’s got to contribute. Let her handle it. Auntie really likes you—the more I look at you, the more I like you. Keep me company for a chat."
Tong’s mom held onto his hand, not letting go. Watching Tong An’an busy herself alone, Jiang Jingyu felt a little uneasy.
But then an idea struck him—a way to make up for it.
"Auntie, how about we go take a look at An’an’s room? You said she’s been a straight-A student her whole life, with tons of awards. I’d love to see them."
That sounded perfect. Tong’s mom led him upstairs.
Tong An’an’s room was a typical girl’s space—simple and tidy.
A small wooden bed with a clean, floral-patterned bedsheet.
The blanket was neatly folded, and a pink plush toy sat at the head of the bed.
Next to it was a desk piled with books, a desk lamp, and a potted plant.
A wardrobe stood nearby. Jiang Jingyu opened it—her clothes were few, all modest in style, not even filling the small closet.
The furnishings were basic, but the walls told a different story.
The wall at the foot of the bed was plastered with dozens of award certificates—every single one she’d earned from childhood up.
Jiang Jingyu carefully examined each one, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. He couldn’t help but ask Tong’s mom,
"She’s always been smart and responsible. You must’ve had it easy raising her, huh?"
Tong’s mom sighed. "For the most part, yes. As a kid, she was lively, loved studying, made friends easily—never gave me a reason to worry. Except for one year… something happened, and after that, she became how she is now."
"Stopped talking to me, kept everything bottled up, stopped making friends too."
Curious, Jiang Jingyu pressed for details.
Tong’s mom sat on the edge of the bed and began recounting the story.
"It was during her fourth-grade year. Back then, the factory was booming, so we had a steady stream of workers and passersby stopping to eat. Business was always busy."
"Other parents would take their kids on trips during holidays, to zoos or botanical gardens, or enroll them in extracurricular classes. But with our situation and work, that just wasn’t possible."
"To reward her for being such a good kid, her dad once bought her a little teapot-shaped alarm clock while out getting supplies. You know, the kind made to look like a purple clay teapot."
She gestured the size—a little bigger than a palm, adorable in design.
"When the alarm went off, the lid would tremble like it was real. It was the most unique gift An’an had ever gotten, and she loved it. I never realized how much it meant to her, though."
"One time, my niece came over to visit. She was two years younger than An’an and took a liking to the clock. I figured since she rarely visited and was a guest—just a kid wanting something—why not let her have it?"
"An’an got really upset. She snatched it back from her cousin and refused to give it up. I felt embarrassed, so I scolded her, took it, and handed it to my niece. Just like that."
"After that tiny incident, she held a grudge against me."
Though the story was small, because it involved Tong An’an, Jiang Jingyu listened intently. Putting himself in her shoes as a child, he understood exactly how she must’ve felt.
Her one beloved toy, callously given away by her mother—that sense of loss was something a rough-around-the-edges, unrefined parent could never grasp.
It only made him miss her more. Ached for her even deeper.
Unable to contain his emotions, Jiang Jingyu stood and said to Tong’s mom,
"Why don’t you rest for a bit? I’m going to use the bathroom."
Then he hurried downstairs and straight to the kitchen.
Tong An’an was bent over the sink, washing dishes with red rubber gloves on. Watching her gentle, quiet profile, Jiang Jingyu couldn’t help but step behind her, his voice thick with emotion as he said,
"Tong An’an."
She turned. "Hmm? Weren’t you upstairs with my mom? Why’re you back so soon?"
"I feel awful. I missed you." His voice dropped. "Can I hug you?"
Before she could react, his arms were around her waist, his face buried in the curve of her neck.
"I can’t wait anymore. Have you made up your mind? Can you just say yes now?"
"I want to be your boyfriend. I want to chase you. I want to see you all the time, be with you every day."
"Even if you’re not sure yet—just agree first, okay? If there’s anything I do wrong later, I’ll fix it. Just don’t make me wait. I can’t take it anymore."