The place Qiao Qian had chosen was a lesbian bar they had visited once before. As for why they had only gone once, it was because Chu Susu didn’t really like the atmosphere there—the “sales” vibe was too strong.
It was normal for the salespeople in the bar to promote drinks and memberships to customers, but back then, they had crowded over impatiently not long after they sat down. Their eager-beaver attitude made it hard to feel any goodwill toward the place.
Moreover, once those salespeople saw they weren’t planning to order expensive drinks, they immediately put on a different face.
None of those previous experiences had been pleasant, so Chu Susu didn’t understand why Qiao Qian wanted to come here, especially since it seemed like they had something important to discuss.
The moment they walked in, they spotted her in the central booth.
Qiao Qian was dressed up glamorously, her makeup exquisitely done, but no matter what, it couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. Clearly, she hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and her mental state wasn’t great either.
Chu Susu subconsciously frowned at the bottle of liquor in front of her.
Li Le’er was even more direct, blurting out in surprise, “Qiao Qian, even in this state, you’re still…”
Still spending money on opening a bottle?
This bottle wasn’t cheap—it had to be nearly two thousand. No big deal for someone flush with cash, but Qiao Qian clearly wasn’t in a position to afford it right now.
With a few bar salespeople standing nearby, Li Le’er didn’t want to embarrass Qiao Qian, so she didn’t finish her sentence. But she exchanged a glance with Chu Susu, and suddenly a ridiculous suspicion arose—
Could it be that Qiao Qian’s recent money shortage was because she was blowing it all here?
Why? Was she drinking herself into oblivion? That didn’t add up either.
Harboring all sorts of doubts, the two sat down in front of her.
“Susu, Le’er.” Qiao Qian called their names, her face beaming with a smile that betrayed nothing. “Have a seat.”
Besides the liquor, the table was laden with an assortment of fruit platters, probably complimentary with the package.
They had glanced at the menu before coming in, so they had a sense of the prices. This package was exorbitantly priced, which only puzzled them more.
Li Le’er had always been straightforward and couldn’t hold back her words. Her butt had barely warmed the seat when she came right out with it: “Qiao Qian, if there’s something going on, just lay it all out. We’re all friends here—we’ll definitely help if we can.”
At those words, Qiao Qian froze slightly, a crack appearing in her smile.
But she didn’t respond to Li Le’er. Instead, she lowered her head, hiding her unnatural expression, then leaned forward to pour them drinks: “Try it. I remember Susu loves this one.”
Qiao Qian pushed the glass toward Chu Susu, but she didn’t reach for it.
“What, changed your tastes?”
“Qiao Qian.” Chu Susu finally spoke.
She had quietly scanned the surroundings earlier and noticed all the salespeople staring over. On the stage at the other end, someone was dancing, their gaze flicking this way repeatedly, as if keeping close tabs on their booth.
This was only her and Li Le’er’s second time here, and the bar was full of new faces—there was no reason for these people to pay them special attention. So it had to be about Qiao Qian.
Called by name, Qiao Qian suddenly felt a pang of guilt, like she’d been seen through, and shrank back instinctively.
Chu Susu leaned in close, asking softly amid the blaring music, “How long have you been coming here? How many times?”
These people’s job in the bar was to make money, and the only reason they’d care so much about Qiao Qian was if they saw her as a big-spending customer. But that clearly didn’t match reality.
“…Not many times, just like that.”
Qiao Qian gave no straight answer, dodging the question with vagueness.
Chu Susu knew there was definitely something off, but with those people watching, she couldn’t dive too deep. She was also at a loss, still unable to connect the dots between the bar and Qiao Qian’s recent cash crunch.
Li Le’er wasn’t stupid, just blunt. After Chu Susu’s question, she picked up on the weirdness too and eyed Qiao Qian suspiciously: “Tell us the truth—what’s really going on?”
With the two of them pressing like that, under the lights, Qiao Qian’s exquisitely made-up face paled slightly, but she still didn’t answer, just pushing the drinks toward them again.
“Drink first,” she said. “We’ll talk while we drink.”
Li Le’er was a bit thirsty and, seeing Qiao Qian avoiding the point, reached for a glass—only for her movement to be abruptly blocked.
Chu Susu’s arm barred her way, signaling her not to touch the drink yet.
“What do you mean?” Qiao Qian swallowed, a hint of hurt in her tone. “Susu, after all our friendship, do you really think I’d give you two bad drinks?”
That probably wasn’t it, but Chu Susu had a bad feeling that made her reluctant to drink right now.
She shook her head. “It’s inconvenient if we get drunk. Let’s finish talking while we’re sober, then drink.”
Li Le’er thought Chu Susu made sense and pulled her hand back.
Looking at the silent Qiao Qian, she urged, “We’re all close here—whatever it is, just spit it out. You think we’re gonna mock you or something?”
“Mock…”
Qiao Qian murmured the word, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “I’d rather you mocked me. At least then there’d be something to salvage.”
But she said it too softly, drowned out by the music, so they didn’t hear.
Qiao Qian gazed at the two of them, her eyes flickering with indecision, like she was wrestling with something.
After a long moment, she finally said, “I’ve been really short on cash lately.”
That was no surprise—they’d figured as much.
Chu Susu stared at her steadily, brow furrowed. Before Li Le’er could speak, she said coolly, “You can borrow from us, but you have to be clear on what the money’s for. Where has all your cash gone lately? If you keep it from us, there’s nothing we can do.”
The relentless questioning made Qiao Qian press her lips tight, a slight tremble in them.
“Yeah.”
Li Le’er saw how pitiful Qiao Qian looked and felt a twinge of sympathy, but she knew Chu Susu was right, so she chimed in:
“You know us—we wouldn’t just stand by if you’re in trouble. But look at you now; something’s seriously wrong. How can we help if you won’t tell us?”
Qiao Qian’s lips twitched. Suddenly, she hugged her head with both hands, looking tormented and conflicted.
She muttered a few words, but with the music volume cranking up, they couldn’t make them out—though Chu Susu read her lips.
—”I owe money.”
“To who? Why? How much?”
Tears welled in Qiao Qian’s eyes as she started mumbling to herself, repeating over and over: “Don’t push me, don’t push me anymore, Susu.”
Her neurotic reaction sent a shiver through Li Le’er, who suddenly thought of the worst possibility and subtly signaled Chu Susu with a look and gesture—
She wasn’t on drugs, was she?
Chu Susu shook her head cautiously.
Drug users would blow every penny on their fix and wouldn’t splurge on drinks if they had cash—they’d save it.
Besides, Qiao Qian just had heavy dark circles and looked a bit haggard; her figure and appearance were otherwise the same, no signs of drastic weight loss.
“Qiao Qian, listen to me,” Chu Susu softened her tone. “I’m not pushing you. We just want to know what happened.”
Li Le’er sighed and patted Qiao Qian’s shoulder. “We’ve asked you several times before, and you always said it was fine. Better say it now while it’s still fixable.”
The salespeople and staff nearby sensed something was off and seemed about to crowd over, but a single glance from Chu Susu sent them retreating.
Even though it was just a quick, light flick of her eyes, the upward tilt and glare in her beautiful gaze were still incredibly intimidating.
“Are you alright…”
“Don’t come over and disturb us,” Chu Susu waved them off. “Can’t you see my friend is upset?”
The people hovering around finally backed off.
In the booth, Qiao Qian covered her face and sobbed for a while before calming down. Li Le’er rubbed her back, coaxing her to talk slowly.
“I took out a high-interest loan.” Her voice was thick with tears, pleading.
Li Le’er jumped. “From where? Is it legit?”
The Imperial Capital cracked down hard on illegal activities; there were hardly any brutal debt collectors shaking people down. Legit loans didn’t pull shady stunts.
Qiao Qian nodded with red-rimmed eyes, wiping them and smearing her makeup everywhere. “But the interest is sky-high. I’ve been rolling it over forever, paying one loan with another, and now I can’t keep up.”
Chu Susu asked, “How much?”
Qiao Qian named a seven-figure sum.
Not astronomical, but hopeless for an average person to pay back.
Li Le’er hesitated. “So how much do you want us to lend you?”
Their families were much better off than Qiao Qian’s. Pooling together, they could probably swing it.
But there were two issues. First, Chu Susu had a rocky relationship with her family, so she’d only use her own money. Lending that much would wipe out her savings from years of work—and then some.
Second, Li Le’er didn’t lack for spending money, but she had zero financial sense, so most of it was managed by her mom.
And good luck getting Mom to agree to lending it to a friend for high-interest debt.
Qiao Qian suddenly grabbed Li Le’er’s wrist and raised her head. “I called you here not because I want you to lend me money.”
“Then…”
“We’re all friends, and I don’t want to trouble you.” Qiao Qian forced a stiff smile. “You’ve helped me a lot before, and I remember it all. But I’m really at the end of my rope now.”
“There’s one thing—Susu, you must promise me.”
Her pleading tone left Chu Susu baffled. “Besides lending you money, what else can I do to help? Are you planning to sue the lenders?”
“No.”
Qiao Qian seemed to have spent a long time mentally preparing herself before mustering the courage to speak.
“Last time at the birthday banquet, I overheard your conversation with Xiaoying…”
Her throat felt parched, but ignoring Li Le’er’s shocked gaze, she continued word by word:
“Xiaoying told you back then that Han Xuan is actually the illegitimate daughter of Fucheng Group, right? That Fucheng Group which monopolizes real estate in the Imperial Capital and has countless subsidiaries under its name. They threw money around without a care at even the Eldest Miss’s birthday banquet—they certainly aren’t short on cash.”
“I want to borrow this money from her… through you.”
