Chapter 42: Lan Tiao

However, things didn’t go as planned. Even after Chu Susu was forcibly kept in the hospital by Chu Qingyang for a full half month, she still didn’t get to see Han Xuan.

The day after she fainted in front of Client A, the entire art team from the company went on a business trip to another province for an exchange and study session, which would last three weeks. Han Xuan, naturally, was no exception.

In other words, Han Xuan had just left when Chu Susu woke up right after.

Not seeing Han Xuan, combined with the sheer boredom of lying in the hospital, left her a bit depressed. Fortunately, a few friends occasionally came to chat with her.

“I heard from your sister that the guy has confessed,” Li Le’er said as she placed a big basket of fruit by the bed, asking curiously, “Did you have some grudge with him before? To go after you over something so trivial?”

Chu Susu lay lazily on the bed. “Yeah.”

“What an idiot. Good thing you’re okay.”

The thug who kidnapped her had been tracked down by the police in just a few hours.

Unexpectedly, he was drunk when brought back to the station, as if he’d had quite a bit to drink, and he confessed every detail of the crime, which perfectly matched the evidence and clues found at the scene.

Although the person who hired him didn’t leave a name, the police quickly locked onto suspect Chen Jie—aka Jack—based on the clues.

There was a large unexplained expenditure in his account, and tracing it led straight to the kidnapper’s hands. Plus, other colleagues testified that Jack and Chu Susu had long been at odds.

All the evidence pointed to him hiring a thug out of work-related grudge.

“I didn’t!” When questioned like this, Jack slammed the table and angrily retorted, only to be pressed back down by the police. “I just wanted to teach her a lesson, make her miss that presentation. I didn’t want to kill her!”

He kept repeating: “I have a family to support. How could I possibly commit murder?”

The cop across from Jack sneered with disdain upon hearing this. “So you knew your actions were criminal? Why didn’t you think of your wife and kids when you did it?”

At those last words, he suddenly froze and covered his face, the pain still faintly lingering there.

After the incident, the first thing Jack’s wife did upon seeing him was slap him hard across the face.

“Chen Jie, you animal.” The woman’s face was haggard as she pounded on him through gritted teeth. “How could you… how could you do something like this? Did you ever think about me and the child?”

The news of her husband’s crime was the final straw that broke her after years of toil and hardship.

“Do you know that a criminal record for parents affects a child’s political background check? Our daughter’s still so young, and you’ve ruined so many paths for her!”

His wife wept bitterly, covering her face in heartbreak, a sight that even the nearby police couldn’t bear to watch for long.

Jack couldn’t forget it either.

He kept questioning himself inwardly: Yeah, all these years, he’d worked diligently and lived properly. How did he end up like this?

Jack fell silent, as if aging ten years in an instant.

He’d lost his job, could barely save himself, and his family was dragged into it…

If only he hadn’t heard those words back then.

Then, he absolutely wouldn’t have taken such a desperate risk…

Leaving Jack’s side for now—justice would deal with him. Meanwhile, the company was in an uproar.

First, the employee dispute. For ordinary workplace grudges to escalate to hiring a thug was shocking to the higher-ups.

Though it was Jack’s personal action, the severity demanded serious handling, or it would harm the company’s reputation if word got out.

The executives held an emergency meeting overnight and issued new regulations the next day, establishing an oversight team to prevent similar incidents.

Of course, these were handled internally. For Client A, they downplayed and sanitized the info, protecting it well.

Client A only knew Chu Susu had powered through illness, coming to present even with a concussion, deeply moving them with her dedication. They decided to add more projects.

Naturally, compensation for the injured party was a must. Both sides sent Chu Susu generous payouts, more than her year-end bonus.

More importantly, the company told her to rest up, no time limit—come back when she’s fully recovered.

So Chu Susu, who had planned an early discharge, lay back down.

Who could refuse paid leave?

Li Le’er sat beside her, clumsily peeling an apple, leaving the skin all bumpy and uneven.

“Speaking of, that little sheep of yours is like a god. Calling right then and saving you from the fire.”

She didn’t mind it being brought up, but mentioning Han Xuan made Chu Susu involuntarily recall that unforgettable scene.

The one only she knew about. Every time she thought of it, she wondered if it was all a hallucination.

For some reason, even though the thug had witnessed it firsthand, his statement completely omitted the garage part—claiming only that he’d attacked her and fled in panic.

The guy was a fugitive anyway, and now he’d finally been caught. All’s well that ends well.

That sky full of purple glow became a knot in Chu Susu’s heart alone, impossible to unravel.

She paused. “Le’er, do you ever watch those sci-fi movies?”

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Do you think Han Xuan might have some ability ordinary people don’t, to save me just in time like that?”

Li Le’er burst out laughing with a “pfft,” set down the mangled apple, and reached over to pat her head.

“You finally noticed?”

Chu Susu startled, frowning at her. “You… know too?”

“You ordinary human, finally spotting us little fairies hiding around you.”

Li Le’er ruffled her hair. “Silly girl, did the blow to your head scramble you?”

Chu Susu: …

Fine, she knew no one would believe it.

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would’ve imagined such bizarre things existed in the world.

Chu Susu rolled over and scrolled Weibo on her new phone. As expected, she came across that astrology blogger again.

She checked back; while the minor stuff had been eerily accurate, for this bloodshed, the blogger hadn’t mentioned it at all.

Guess it’s not that mystical after all.

Since privately consulting the blogger last time, they’d chatted casually now and then, becoming regular online friends.

Chu Susu looked down and sent a message—unsure if the person was male or female, she’d just use “he” for now.

@Susu: “Ursa Major, you’ve been off lately.”

@BetaUrsaeMajoris: “?”

@Susu: “Otherwise, how’d you miss me lying in the hospital now? [sigh]”

@BetaUrsaeMajoris: “Some things happen even if you know about them.”

Which was true—Jack would’ve tried again if the first failed; impossible to guard against everything.

Catching him on the first try was the best outcome.

@Susu: “[crying].”

@BetaUrsaeMajoris: “Since you’re sick, I’ll give you a free prophecy.”

@Susu: “Oh? What’s that?”

@BetaUrsaeMajoris: “If there’s something to say, say it soon—even if you can’t see that person. You’re pretty free right now, aren’t you?”

It seemed to say nothing specific, yet hit the nail on the head.

Chu Susu stared at the message for a bit, didn’t reply, and opened another app.

“What’re you doing?”

Li Le’er glanced sharply at the screen, recognized it, and realized her intent. “Whoa, you’re bold. Not scared your sister will kill you?”

Chu Susu shushed her, then tapped confirm on the flight booking payment.

“Keep it secret for me.”

In Magic City, inside a certain restaurant.

It was the second week of the art team’s exchange study. After the meeting wrapped, the team lead booked lunch at their hotel and brought everyone.

Familiar colleagues gathered in twos and threes, but Han Xuan sat alone at the far edge, absently stirring her soup.

“Come sit with us.”

Her colleagues warmly invited her, but Han Xuan shyly shook her head. “It’s fine. The AC’s a bit cold over there. I’m good here.”

The colleagues went “oh” and thought nothing more.

Han Xuan had been around for months now. This little girl had no other issues; she was just too introverted, so even after all this time, no one was close to her.

It’d get better with time, probably.

The meal was going peacefully until, on a trip to the bathroom to wash up, the colleague next to Han Xuan suddenly clutched her stomach and cried out “ow.”

“Oh no, I think I got food poisoning.” She looked pained, face scrunched up, leaning on the wall, utterly feeble.

“You okay?” Han Xuan asked.

The colleague’s face was ashen. “Could you grab some stomach meds for me? I can’t move at all.”

She let out a breath. Without waiting for Han Xuan’s response, she took the initiative to stuff a room card over.

“There’s one in the drawer of my room. Thank you.”

“…Okay.”

Han Xuan passively accepted it. She glanced down at it but didn’t refuse. She simply walked out of the bathroom, gripping the room card as she headed upstairs.

She followed the number on the card and soon arrived at the room door.

Just as she was about to swipe the card to enter and get the medicine, the item in her hand was suddenly clamped by a force from behind right before she touched the door. It nearly slipped from her grasp.

Han Xuan turned back in surprise.

The corridor held no other figures—only the person before her, pinching the same room card as her. Their eyes met.

Her long hair was loosely pinned up, an apricot-colored thin coat draped over her shoulders, her red lips blazing, the corners of her eyes seductively alluring.

Her presence was so overpowering that at a glance, only she existed—impossible to ignore.

This delicate beauty, utterly at odds with her name—who else but Chu Susu?

“Susu.”

Han Xuan froze, subconsciously calling her name.

It seemed that whenever she got nervous, she couldn’t help repeating those two words: “What a coincidence… how come you’re here too…”

“Not a coincidence.”

Chu Susu said. Then she pinched Han Xuan’s slender wrist with slight force, staring intently at Han Xuan’s clear, pure, and refined face.

“Because I was waiting for you.”