The Young Miss Refuse To Love-Chapter 102: She likes me

"You used to not care about anyone else’s opinion. Why does it matter so much to you now?" Mrs. Song pressed gently, her voice tinged with frustration and worry.

Ironically, it was her son’s disregard for others’ opinions that had been one of her greatest concerns when he was younger.

Yet now, when she and her husband hoped for him to embrace his individuality and strength, he seemed weighed down by the judgement of others.

Song Chengfeng raised his head, his deep, unwavering gaze meeting his mother’s. For a brief moment, Mrs. Song thought he might speak, that he might finally let out the emotions he kept buried.

"Chengfeng," she began, her voice quieter now, "you’ve always carried too much on your shoulders. You don’t have to fight this alone. You’re still my son, and your father’s son. Nothing—no words from anyone—can change that."

Mrs. Song could only try to reason with her son, knowing how deeply ingrained his stubbornness was.

Once Song Chengfeng made up his mind, not even the most heartfelt pleas could sway him. But she was his mother, and mothers never stopped trying.

"Your grandpa has been asking about you," she said gently, her tone soft but insistent.

"You know how old he is now. His health isn’t what it used to be, and he can’t take too much stress. He was never truly angry with you-not for what happened. He’s just worried. Worried that you’re blaming yourself." Her words lingered in the air, a mix of frustration and love.

Grandpa Song, despite his stern demeanor, had always held a special place for Chengfeng, his favorite grandson. Even now, he wasn’t disappointed in him but frustrated at his silence-at his refusal to explain the full story.

Mrs. Song’s gaze softened as she recalled the incident that had overturned their lives.

The tragedy had left so many questions unanswered, with only Song Chengfeng holding the key to the truth.

At the time, the mission had been in chaos. When the other soldiers returned to the site, they found two dead comrades and a grim-faced Song Chengfeng standing over their bodies.

There were no witnesses to the act. A brief loss of signal in their communication devices had left them disconnected for five crucial minutes. In that span, the fatal shots had been fired. .

And when questioned, Song Chengfeng’s confession had been straightforward yet maddeningly incomplete, "Yes, I killed them. There were only three of us."

No elaboration. No explanation.

His family had scrambled to clear his name. His grandfather and father, with their influence and connections, had done everything they could to gather evidence to support him.

But Song Chengfeng’s own testimony had undermined their efforts. He admitted to the act without defending himself.

The military’s investigation had eventually uncovered evidence against the two soldiers. That they were confirmed traitors who had leaked military information to the enemy for the past missions that cost the lives of the other soldiers.

It was a valid reason, but not convincing enough. Instead of apprehending the traitors for interrogation or following protocol, he had executed them on the spot.

To many, his actions seemed rash, driven by personal emotions rather than duty. And in the eyes of his superiors, that was a failure of leadership.

Mrs. Song’s voice wavered slightly as she continued, "You could have fought for yourself, Chengfeng. Your reasons were valid, but they weren’t enough. Not like this. Your silence only made things worse. Why didn’t you explain? Why didn’t you defend yourself?"

Her words hung in the air, but Song Chengfeng remained silent. His expression was unreadable, yet the faintest flicker of regret seemed to pass through his dark eyes.

Mrs. Song knew there was more to the story. Something he wasn’t telling anyone. Something he had decided to carry alone.

After waiting for a long time without getting any response from her son, Mrs. Song could only sigh and shake her head. She pulled herself together, suppressing her worries, and forced a motherly smile onto her face.

Deciding not to push further, she softened her approach while swiftly shifting the topic.

"It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me," she said gently. Then, her tone sharpened, and her eyes narrowed with an air of authority. "But don’t you dare run away anymore. How old are you to still act like a child running from home? Your grandpa’s birthday is next week. Come home for it. No excuses."

The firmness in her voice left no room for argument, and her determined gaze dared him to even think about defying her.

Knowing his mother well enough, Song Chengfeng realized there was no point in resisting. He finally gave her the answer she wanted to hear.

"Yes, I understand, Mom," he replied quietly.

Mrs. Song let out a relieved breath, her expression easing considerably. At least, for now, her son wasn’t completely distancing himself from the family.

The hint of success in her mission to bring him closer home lifted her spirits.

With the weight of their earlier conversation behind her, Mrs. Song’s demeanor shifted. Her face lit up with curiosity, and a playful spark danced in her eyes. She leaned forward, ready to indulge in a bit of light-hearted gossip.

"By the way," she began slyly, "have you delivered the bird’s nests I brought over yesterday?"

Caught off guard, Song Chengfeng hesitated briefly before nodding.

"She thanked you," he answered, his voice soft. His previously tense expression eased, and an almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.

"Oh?" Mrs. Song raised her brows with interest, not missing the faint smile. Her son’s subtle reaction confirmed her suspicions. He was undoubtedly smitten. She couldn’t help but grin.

"Did she like it? If she did, let me know, and I’ll send her more things. A good first impression matters!" Mrs. Song nodded with satisfaction at her own suggestion.

However, Song Chengfeng quickly dismissed the idea. "She liked it, but you don’t have to send more. I don’t want to overwhelm her."

His voice was steady, and his relaxed demeanor betrayed his concern for Qi Jianyi’s comfort.

Mrs. Song’s grin widened. "So, you do have a heart after all. She’s all you care about now, isn’t she?" she teased, watching her son’s serious expression closely.

It was clear to her that he deeply valued Qi Jianyi’s feelings and boundaries.

Her curiosity peaked. "So... has she accepted you yet?" she asked, unable to resist prying further.

At the mention of acceptance, Song Chengfeng’s posture stiffened noticeably. His expression froze, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t need to say a word. The answer was written all over his face.

Mrs. Song’s playful smile turned into a look of mock disappointment. She clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"Tsk, tsk. Just like your father. You’re so much like him it’s almost uncanny. Even with that handsome face, you still can’t win over the woman you like."

Her sneer wasn’t malicious, but it hit just hard enough to make Song Chengfeng sigh internally. In her eyes, he’d gone from being a proud soldier to a clumsy suitor—a transformation she found endlessly amusing.

"She likes me." Unable to tolerate the mocking look on his mother’s face, Song Chengfeng declared this with unwavering pride.

Mrs. Song raised her brows skeptically, her eyes narrowing with doubt. "Oh, really?" she drawled, her tone dripping with disbelief. "How interesting. Do elaborate."

Her reaction clearly stated she didn’t believe him. Her son might have achieved many things in life, but convincing her of his romantic prowess wasn’t one of them.

Song Chengfeng straightened his posture, refusing to back down. "It’s true, she likes me," he repeated, his tone firm as if willing the statement into existence.

Mrs. Song leaned forward slightly, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

"Did she say that?" she asked, clearly enjoying the interaction.

Her question threw him off. He froze for a moment, his brows furrowing.

Did Qi Jianyi ever explicitly admit that she liked him? He mentally replayed their interactions, searching for concrete proof.

"I just know," he finally said, though his voice had lost some of its earlier conviction.

Mrs. Song snorted, barely hiding her amusement. "You just know? So, let me get this straight—you, my son, who is as dense as a brick when it comes to emotions, somehow miraculously know what’s in her heart?"

Song Chengfeng’s lips twitched, and he looked away, avoiding his mother’s teasing gaze. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

Mrs. Song laughed softly and waved her hand dismissively. "Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing. But if she does like you, Chengfeng, make sure you don’t mess it up, okay?"

Her tone shifted, carrying a hint of seriousness amidst the humor. She leaned back on the couch, watching her son with a mixture of amusement and affection, secretly rooting for him.

Song Chengfeng silently absorbed his mother’s words, her advice sinking deep into his heart.

But he couldn’t bring himself to respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t agree. In fact, he understood it better than anyone.

Yet, there were things beyond his control—things he knew he couldn’t force no matter how strong his feelings were.

If given the chance, Song Chengfeng was certain he would never mess it up. He would treasure Qi Jianyi, love her with every fiber of his being. But reality was far crueler than he’d like to admit.

He knew, as much as she might care for him, Qi Jianyi was like a fleeting bird. Her heart was tethered to another life, another place, another world entirely.

Asking her to stay with him would mean asking her to give up her dreams, her home, and her identity.

And that wasn’t a price he was willing to make her pay—not for him.

The thought gnawed at him, a quiet ache that he’d grown used to carrying. He hated it. He hated that the world he was born into, the only world he’d ever known, was something she found unfamiliar.

What came naturally to him, what defined his entire life, was strange and unsettling to her.

For now, though, Song Chengfeng gave his mother a faint nod, signaling he had heard her advice. It was all he could do. Because he couldn’t predict what the future holds for him and Qi Jianyi.

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