Jian Ershao?
How did Sister Sa know I was second in the family, and that I was a young master?
Could it be that she already knew my identity?
If this woman knew, wouldn't Jiang Ling also…
Xiao Hei, who was equally confused, looked at Sister Sa in surprise: "You… How do you know he… he is the Second Young Master…"
Hearing this, Sister Sa wished she could slap herself twice.
You loose-lipped blabbermouth, did you let it slip?
Sister Sa's eyes darted around quickly, and she quickly mumbled, "What second young master, third young master, did you mishear?"
"No, you clearly said Jian Ershao just now, I couldn't possibly have misheard."
But Sister Sa adamantly denied it, insisting that Xiao Hei had misheard.
…
Jiang Ling was feeling agitated. She had wanted to ask Jiang Yushuang to go shopping with her.
But thinking that she was more than nine months pregnant and her due date was within days, if anything were to happen, Jian Fan would probably skin her alive.
There was no other way, so Jiang Ling, all geared up with her new Chanel handbag, sunglasses on, headed to the most high-end mall in Modu to shop to her heart's content.
Admittedly, the feeling of retail therapy was truly exhilarating, though extremely wasteful.
Fortunately, she was a major shareholder in the world's top three luxury brands, so no matter how much she bought, it was all money flowing back into her own household, so she didn't feel the pinch.
After a spree of shopping, while the thrill of retail therapy was present, it didn't last long before she felt gloomy again.
Jiang Ling, laden with shopping bags, found a dessert shop she frequented and ordered an afternoon tea.
Eating sweets could lift one's mood, and at this moment, she craved something sweet.
As Jiang Ling was enjoying the wildly popular soy flour cake, her phone rang.
She picked it up and saw it was Jian Zhou calling. She hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Hello!"
"Where are you?"
"Shopping. Is something wrong?"
From the other end of the phone, Jian Zhou's teeth seemed to be grinding slightly: "I want to talk to you."
Jiang Ling was silent for a moment, then said, "Okay, I'll be home in half an hour. You wait for me at home now. The key is still in the flower pot to the right of the door."
"Alright!"
Jian Zhou was right outside Jiang Ling's door. After hanging up, he found the key under the flower pot and let himself in.
Sitting quietly on the cozy fabric sofa, Jian Zhou's mind was in turmoil.
At this moment, he desperately wanted to know when Jiang Ling had found out his true identity.
Did she know from the beginning, or did he accidentally reveal himself during their time together, arousing her suspicion and leading her to discover his identity?
If she had known from the start, why would she have hired him as her personal assistant?
All these doubts needed someone to answer them.
Suddenly, Jian Zhou's gaze fell on a light cyan-covered booklet on the coffee table.
Jian Zhou knew that Jiang Ling had a tendency to be forgetful and often forgot things she needed to do.
To overcome this flaw, Jiang Ling had formed the habit of taking notes, writing down points to remember in advance and reviewing them ten minutes before filming to avoid affecting the quality of her performance.
Not only that, but Jiang Ling also liked to jot down various trivial matters of life in the notebook, mixing them all together.
Therefore, this light cyan-covered booklet served as both her memo and her diary.
Jian Zhou had once teased her, "Who writes a diary when they're a proper person?"
But Jiang Ling had said, "A good memory is no match for a bad pen. What needs to be remembered should be remembered!"
Jian Zhou knew that reading someone else's diary was an offensive act, and his upbringing wouldn't allow him to overstep. Yet, at this moment, he couldn't resist.