Chapter 31

“Shen Zhirou, where would you even be without me? Let me tell you, it’s not your place to lecture me.” Ning Jianfang was furious too. She’d put all her strength into that slap, and her palm was still burning with pain.

Shen Zhirou’s cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart—like a knife slowly scraping at an open wound. This incident forced her to face reality. Even though she and her mother had kept up a fragile peace these past few years, her mother had never truly cared for her or her sister. The only family she had left was her sister—maybe Lu Yao too.

But with her family always stirring up trouble like this, Shen Zhirou had no idea how far she and Lu Yao could really go. She craved love, but she wasn’t stupid. Her mother had made her stance clear, so there was no point clinging to the illusion of family bonds anymore.

Kang Defa froze for a second. He shoved Ning Lei aside and grabbed at Ning Jianfang. “What the hell are you doing? Zhirou’s a grown woman—why hit her? She’s your daughter. Ning Lei’s your brother’s kid. Ning Jianfang, snap out of it. If anyone’s in the wrong here, it’s us—we owe Zhirou and her sister more.”

Ning Jianfang was too heated to listen. She jabbed a finger at Shen Zhirou, ranting on. “You think I’m wrong? That’s why people say it: kids you don’t raise yourself just aren’t the same. Look at her now—what a sight. She’s climbed the social ladder and doesn’t want to admit her broke-ass mom anymore, right? Shen Zhirou, I’m suing you. Lu Yao’s the one I got someone to introduce you to—you can’t ditch me. If she wants to stay with you, then fix Ning Lei’s job situation. You got that?”

Shen Zhirou felt ice creep through her veins amid the woman’s screeching tirade, like a street vendor hawking insults. Outside, the temperature hovered at a sweltering 29 degrees, but she was shivering, teeth chattering.

“Do whatever you want. Next time you pull this crap, Lu Yao’s calling the cops. Deal with it yourselves. I’m done coming here.” Shen Zhirou turned and walked out.

Still raging, Ning Jianfang lunged to grab her, spewing curses. “Cops? Bring it on—let her try me. And you? Come back if you feel like it. I’ll just pretend I raised two ungrateful brats, you and your sister…”

Shen Zhirou stumbled out the door in a haze; her mother’s venomous words faded behind her. Her left cheek still prickled with pain. She didn’t need a mirror to know it was swelling up. With a sigh, she messaged the company for another day off—no way was she showing up with a puffy face.

She drove back to the apartment she shared with Lu Yao like an automaton, barely registering the road. Her mother blew up her phone several more times during the drive, but Shen Zhirou ignored them all. Things had reached this point; there was no maintaining contact anymore.

The instant she stepped inside, all her energy evaporated. She’d convinced herself these past few years that she’d overcome her insecurities about their poor family, but her mother had shattered that illusion with one slap, dragging her right back to rock bottom. Shen Zhirou didn’t even know how to face Lu Yao—or Lu Yao’s mother—anymore.

Her mother and Ning Lei were perfectly capable people. No telling what shameless stunts they’d pull, no matter how much she pleaded.

Her head throbbed like it might burst. The phone buzzed every few minutes. She powered it off, took a quick shower in the bathroom, and pressed a damp towel to her left cheek.

After drying off, Shen Zhirou grabbed her phone. After a moment’s thought, she WeChatted her sister: Don’t tell Ning Jianfang you’ve become the President’s Assistant. We don’t need those parasites latching onto you too.

Shen Yumian’s call came through almost immediately. The second Shen Zhirou picked up, an anxious voice flooded the line. “Sis, did they hurt you? I’m furious—I’ll go deal with them for you.”

“Stay out of it, Mianmian. There’s too many of them, and I don’t want you dragged in. Keep your job at work a secret from Mom too. She’s been brainwashed by Maternal Uncle’s family for years—used to handing everything over to them no questions asked. Now she wants us doing the same for Ning Lei. Why should we? I’ve seen the light this time. Grandma’s gone, but we’ve survived the worst together. Things will only get better for us now. Parents? No more wishing for that. You’re my only family from here on out.”

“Sis, where are you? I’ll take time off and come keep you company.” Shen Yumian pressed, worried her sister was spiraling.

“No need. I’m not a child anymore. Don’t worry—I’m fine. You, on the other hand, just started work a few days ago. Don’t take any leave. Make a good impression with HR so it’ll be easier to go permanent later.” There was no way Shen Zhirou could let Shen Yumian come over. If her Mianmian saw the swelling on her face, she’d charge off to have another huge fight with Ning Jianfang and the others. But what would be the point of that?

“Alright then, sis. If anything comes up, you have to tell me. No keeping secrets.” Shen Yumian still wasn’t reassured about her sister.

“Don’t worry. Didn’t I tell you right away? Just take care of your own job. No need to fret over me. And that house at home—don’t go back if you can avoid it from now on.” Shen Zhirou gave her a few more reminders before hanging up.

Meanwhile, Ning Jianfang had calmed down and started to feel a twinge of regret. What she’d done amounted to burning bridges with Shen Zhirou. But she was still counting on the betrothal gifts from her daughter’s future marriage, so she didn’t want things to fall apart completely. She persuaded Ning Lei and the others to head home first, then called Shen Zhirou again, intending to offer a few soft words to smooth things over. But Shen Zhirou never picked up.

Left with no choice, Ning Jianfang sent her several WeChat messages.

Mom: Zhirou, I’m sorry. Mom got a little worked up earlier. Please don’t take it to heart.

Mom: What we did today was thoughtless, I know, but I got caught up in the moment. It wasn’t on purpose. Put a wet towel on your face to bring down the swelling.

Mom: Say some nice things to Lu Yao for me. Tell her not to hold today against us. If she really can’t help Ning Lei, we’ll figure something else out.

Mom: A mother and daughter can’t stay mad overnight. Don’t let us grow apart like this.

Shen Zhirou stared at the endless stream of WeChat messages, her head pounding. The fiery sting along her cheek was secondary; the raw ache in her heart was all too real.

She didn’t want to cry over this and forced herself to stay strong, but tears had welled up in her eyes unbidden, silently tracing paths down her porcelain-pale cheeks. Shen Zhirou curled into a tight little ball, arms wrapped around herself as she sobbed quietly—like a wounded kitten licking its injuries in solitude.

It had been ages since she’d cried like this. Shen Zhirou had learned young that tears solved nothing. After Grandmother passed, she’d shed very few. But today, for some reason—perhaps the tension in her heart had stretched too thin, or maybe she’d simply reached her limit—she clung to herself and wept without restraint.

She didn’t want her sister to know and worry, didn’t want Lu Yao to see her as fragile or burdensome, didn’t want to dump her family mess on friends. She had to process it all alone.

She lost track of time amid the tears, but eventually, her heart eased a fraction. Red-eyed, she shuffled to the bathroom to splash water on her face, repeating to herself like a mantra: Live for yourself. Stop caring about Mother’s side. Yet the pain sliced deep all the same.

She and her sister were Mother’s flesh and blood too. Why were they nothing more than tools in her eyes? Could any parents truly be that cold?

Shen Zhirou’s crow-black lashes quivered, sending two crystalline tears splashing down. Yes—they could. Her own parents proved it. She commanded herself not to grieve for such people anymore. She had Mianmian at her side, and now Lu Yao too.

Lu Yao might come off as aloof and buried in work most days, but when Shen Zhirou fell ill, she nursed her tenderly and even cooked. It was a warmth Shen Zhirou hadn’t known in years.

To her, Lu Yao was like the sun—radiant and comforting, yet laced with danger. Even aware of the moth-to-flame end, she’d dive in willingly. The instances of kindness in her life could be tallied on one hand, and Lu Yao claimed nearly half. Shen Zhirou couldn’t fathom what she’d do without her.

Time slipped away unnoticed. Propped on the living room sofa, Shen Zhirou drifted off to sleep before she knew it. Her heart’s turmoil had churned her stomach too—no appetite for a bite.

Lu Yao wrapped up her work and joined partners for a late dinner. By the time she got home, past nine, the house was pitch-black. Her brows furrowed faintly in discomfort. She’d grown accustomed to Shen Zhirou leaving a light on for her late nights.

As soon as Lu Yao turned on the living room lights, she saw Shen Zhirou leaning against the sofa, fast asleep. Shen Zhirou’s brows were furrowed together, as if she were pondering something unpleasant. Lu Yao changed into her slippers, hung her handbag on the hook of the shoe cabinet, and hurried over to Shen Zhirou’s side in a few steps, wanting to wake her up so she could go sleep in the bedroom.

Her attitude toward Shen Zhirou that morning had been a bit harsh. After venting her anger and finishing up her work, allowing herself to calm down, Lu Yao finally realized that she might have lashed out at the wrong person. Ever since she had gotten together with Shen Zhirou, she had developed a good understanding of her—Shen Zhirou would never do something like dragging relatives to the company to demand job arrangements from her. The only possibility was that Shen Zhirou’s mother had taken it upon herself to bring someone to the company to find her. Shen Zhirou had called her specifically to give her a heads-up and let her prepare in advance, but Lu Yao had been swamped at the time and hadn’t thought it through at all, ending up taking out her frustration on Shen Zhirou instead.

Lu Yao pursed her lips, a sour feeling rising in her heart. She leaned in close to Shen Zhirou’s side, intending to kiss her lips, only to notice Shen Zhirou’s slightly swollen left cheek. With Shen Zhirou’s naturally fair skin, the patch of red swelling on her face stood out quite obviously.

Lu Yao’s expression darkened. She gently caressed the side of Shen Zhirou’s face with one hand while softly calling out to her, “Wake up. Why’d you fall asleep in the living room? What’s going on with your face?”

Shen Zhirou was still groggy from sleep and squinted against the harsh light, barely able to open her eyes. She peered at Lu Yao through narrowed slits, her voice hoarse as she murmured, “I dozed off by accident. It’s nothing on my face—I just bumped into something.”