Chapter 28

Meng Bai mumbled a few dazed replies before quickly drifting off to sleep.

The room fell silent. Miao Bai lay on her side, wide awake, her mind thrown into turmoil by that earlier story.

Memory was a strange thing. She had thought she’d forgotten it all, but when she tried to recall, it came back with crystal clarity.

That summer, that opera called Hundred Flowers Pavilion, had painted the entire small town in garishly vivid colors.

In Miao Bai’s memory, the woman sat under the long night, smoking one cigarette after another.

She would always say, “Miao Bai, after you go abroad, I’ll take a ship to visit you. I’ll cross the ocean to see you.”

Lies. All of it was lies.

That night, Miao Bai had seen everything.

The wealthy merchant from Beijing entered the woman’s room. The two of them cooed and caressed, the man wrapping his arms around her slender waist, his tone full of displeasure.

“I hear you’ve been hanging around with that old man’s daughter? Wasn’t the trouble you caused in Shanghai enough?”

The woman nestled into his embrace. “You weren’t here, so I needed something to relieve the boredom. She’s quite adorable.”

“What did you do with her?”

The woman scoffed. “What can two women do? She’s so innocent, nothing like you…” She pulled the merchant’s shoulders toward her proactively. “Do you miss me? If you do, let’s take it to the bed and talk…”

The world shattered in an instant.

That night, Miao Bai stood outside the door, listening to the muffled moans from within. All her fervent passion was doused with a bucket of cold water in that moment.

Had they really done nothing?

So what were those kisses over several nights?

Dragonfly-light brushes of lips at the corners, at the age when Miao Bai was at her most sincere and innocent—they were like opium poppies, stealing away nearly all her passion. Back then, Miao Bai had given her true feelings and was truly willing to burn forever for her.

So when she saw that scene, of course she was furious. Infuriated.

At that naive age, how could she have any composure?

That night, Miao Bai burst through the door, shattering the ugliness.

She demanded answers. Why? Why had she done it?

The woman panicked, pulling on her clothes, denying everything outright—even claiming that Miao Bai had made advances on her first.

Perhaps it was youthful recklessness, but Miao Bai insisted on some kind of resolution.

The resolution, of course, was a tongue-lashing from the merchant, attacking her with talk of morals and ethics.

Foolish as she was, even after all that, Miao Bai still hoped the woman would say something in her defense.

In the end, the woman said nothing.

But it didn’t end there. The commotion that day was huge—word spread to everyone.

The most prestigious family in town had produced such a scandal!

The old master’s most cherished, most precious eldest daughter had been involved with a dan actress from Beijing!

The next day, crowds gathered outside the walls of the Old Courtyard, all come to gawk at the spectacle.

From then on, the rumors flew.

“I hear Miss Miao and that dan actress were up to no good! Up to some twisted stuff. That dan actress’s man came all the way from afar, and sure enough, he caught the two women in the act of something filthy—that’s why it blew up so big last night!”

“Really? So Miss Miao’s no longer pure? Her first time with a woman—how desperate must she be? How’s she ever going to get married now…”

Virginity—that’s what they cared about most.

“She puts on such airs, acting all high and mighty in public, but sneaking around with a woman behind closed doors. Isn’t that wild? How do two women even… enjoy themselves?”

“If you ask me, Old Master Miao spoiled that girl too much. If it were my daughter, I’d marry her off to a good man quick—that’d cure her ailment for sure…”

Those baseless tales grew more outrageous with every telling.

Overnight, the lofty Miss Miao became a worthless commodity in their eyes.

But Miao Bai didn’t take it to heart. She thought simply: once summer ended, she’d go abroad and shut out all the gossip.

She never imagined her muddleheaded father would take all those whispers to heart.

“Do you know what people in town are saying about us?!!!”

“Does it matter?”

“If the Miao Family’s reputation is ruined by you, I won’t rest in peace even in death!!”

“Then I’ll leave half a month early? Once I’m gone, what more can they say?”

Old Master Miao slammed the table in fury. “You run off, and we’re still stuck in this town? Running away isn’t the answer. This mess has to be cleared up before you leave!”

Her kind and gentle father seemed to have lost himself amid the endless murmurs.

In the end, he laid down the condition: before Miao Bai went abroad, she had to get married and dispel the rumor…

Marriage. Ha. To Miao Bai, it was utterly absurd.

The past played out before her eyes, scene by scene.

In the darkness, Miao Bai narrowed her eyes. The past replayed, one face after another, all doomed to tragic ends.

She didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. Pointless, and exhausting.

It was too long ago. Those people who had pointed fingers and cursed her were long in their graves.

She must have been lost in memories for too long, because dawn had broken before she knew it.

Morning light tore open the night, spilling in brilliant deep orange rays.

The cramped little room suddenly felt ablaze.

Miao Bai turned her head and saw Meng Bai still asleep, her youthful face close enough to make out the fine down on her cheeks, bathed in warm light that gave her a girlish tenderness.

Beautiful.

Miao Bai gazed at her for a moment, like someone admiring a fine work of art, then looked away. “I have to go.”

She meant it as a murmur to herself, but the person beside her, still half-asleep, responded.

“Mm… stay a bit longer.”

“It’s dawn. I need to get home.”

Meng Bai reached out from under the covers and gently pinched Miao Bai’s finger, giving it a little shake. “One more minute.”

She looked exhausted, far from rested, but the next second her eyes fluttered open. She smiled up at Miao Bai. “So early? Feels like I just closed my eyes and it’s already light out.”

She said it with a smile, her voice soft and soothing.

“Wasn’t it because we stayed up too late?”

“Mm… don’t wanna go to school.”

“It’s Friday—holidays soon. You still have to go.” Miao Bai glanced out the window. “I really do have to leave.”

“Alright.” Meng Bai let go. “Come find you tonight?”

“You can, but just you. No one else.”

Meng Bai paused, then understood.

Miao Bai meant Zhou An couldn’t come.

However, she herself had no intention of letting Zhou An know.

Their secret, as they had agreed beforehand, was not to be shared with anyone.

“Let’s go.”

In her line of sight, Miao Bai’s figure blended with the morning light and soon vanished.

Meng Bai lay in the warm quilt, her sleepiness gradually fading, a lingering warmth still trapped in the bedding.

Outside the window, brilliant light flickered, and the eastern horizon flushed with the pale white of fish belly.

Meng Bai dozed a little longer, then heard Lin Li’s voice drifting from the kitchen. She suddenly remembered the vitally important task she had to handle today.

She needed to rendezvous with Zhou An.

At the police station.

~~~

Meanwhile, in the teachers’ dormitory, Zhou An had already dressed and slipped quietly out of the classroom dorm while few people were arriving at school.

Yesterday, everyone had discussed it and agreed that holing up here wasn’t a good long-term plan.

No one seemed to be searching for her, filing a case was nowhere in sight, and bunking at Teacher Xu’s indefinitely didn’t feel like the best option either.

So Zhou An skirted around the school and made a beeline for the town police station.

She arrived just as the officers were settling in for the day. When they heard her name, their surprise was immediate.

“You’re back!!!”

Zhou An had her story locked and loaded.

The police, of course, had questions. Sure enough, she spun the tale of a runaway teen who’d starved for half a month and finally come crawling home.

“Now we need to call your guardian.”

“Call my dad.”

And so, bright and early, Carpenter Zhou and Zhang Caiyun both showed up at the police station. The instant they laid eyes on Zhou An, they burst into tears that could move heaven and earth.

“Do you have any idea how long your dad’s been looking for you?!”

“Look what you’ve done to your mom—her hair’s gone white from worry!!!”

“Heaven’s got eyes, heaven’s got eyes. My Zhou family girl’s finally home! Thank you, officers, thank you all!!”

Zhou Qiang was probably tapping into the greatest acting chops of his life right there.

Zhang Caiyun cried too, but nothing like Zhou Qiang’s theatrical flood; she seemed downright startled by his performance.

After jumping through a series of procedural hoops, Zhou Qiang led Zhou An out of the station.

The moment they cleared the doors, he and Zhang Caiyun dried their eyes like a switch had flipped. Strange, that.

Zhou An dropped the act entirely and cut straight to the chase. “Cut the crap, you two. Let’s put all our cards on the table starting today.”

Zhou Qiang scowled. “What the hell are you on about, you little mutt? Where’ve you been hiding? Do you know how long we’ve been searching?!”

Zhou An stared at his face, a surge of revulsion churning in her gut. “You’re dragging me to Zhang Gou, aren’t you? I know all about your shady deals.”

She figured there was no point in the phony family charade—better to go all in.

But Zhou Qiang was blunter still:

“You have any clue the hell I’ve caught because you bolted? Zhang Gou nearly diced me up!”

“And if I hadn’t run? You think I’m some idiot, waiting around for you to sell me off to some old creep?” She paused, then drove the point home: “From here on out, don’t even dream of scheming against me. If I vanish again, you really think the cops won’t tear Zhang Gou’s hideout apart?”

Zhou An had never dared talk to him like this before. The transformation left Zhou Qiang and Zhang Caiyun stunned.

“You little bitch, you’ve grown some balls, huh?”

Zhou An went full broken jar—nothing left to lose—and fired back sarcastically: “Oh, so even you know you’re a dog?”

“You!!” Zhou Qiang shook with rage, rearing back to slap her—only for a police officer to step out of the station at that exact moment. He froze, hand hovering.

“I’ve got evidence on Zhang Gou’s crimes, and you’re both accomplices. Get nabbed, and it’s prison time.”

Truth be told, Zhou An had no such evidence, but she had to bluff. Teacher Xu had coached her on that very line before she left.

It worked like a charm—Zhou Qiang looked genuinely rattled. “What kinda evidence could a kid like you scrape up? If it’s real, I’ll rip your tongue out!”

“It’s real, don’t doubt me—but I won’t spill. Here’s the deal: let me prep for the college entrance exam in peace. Once it’s done, I’ll head out on my own, make my fortune, and yeah, I can still take care of you in your old age. Win-win.”

She was dangling a golden carrot for Carpenter Zhou.

Taking care of them? Fat chance.

Zhang Caiyun sensed the vibe turning sour—and they were right outside the police station, voices carrying. Bad for drawing eyes.

“We’re family. Days ahead, we live ’em right, same as always.”

Zhou Qiang bristled. “Look at that attitude!!!”

Zhang Caiyun tugged his arm, urging him to pipe down.

Zhou An played their game, flashing a saccharine smile. “Treat me right, and I’ll be the perfect daughter.”

She’d spun that carrot into a full feast.

The trio bickered outside the station for what felt like ages.

Zhou An scanned the area and finally spotted Meng Bai.

That bicycle rolled up slowly from the opposite direction, and the knot in Zhou An’s chest finally loosened.

Zhou Qiang’s eyes were sharp; he clocked her too. “This pal of yours is like a bad penny—turns up every time. You barely hit the station, and she’s already got wind.”

Zhou An ignored him, waving frantically. “Meng Bai!!!”

“Zhou An!!!”

The pair had scripted this reunion down pat: put on a show the second they locked eyes.