Chapter 15: White Moonlight

The baffled “Did I give birth to her?” exposed Ji Huaqing’s utter confusion.

Gu Yining laughed into her hand, a pair of long, pale fingers covering her face in the struggle not to laugh out loud. “If you’re suspicious, take some of Ningning’s hair and run a paternity test. Maybe she really is yours.”

Ji Huaqing nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it next time I’m back. If it really involves me, I’ll raise her.”

“No need. Ningning is doing great now. Teacher Ji, live your own life—don’t disturb hers.” Gu Yining’s smile faded, her tone turning stern. She looked at her evenly. “I’m not joking with you. Just now was a joke; this is not. She’s in a good place now. Children are sensitive. She often asks me, ‘Where did Daddy go?'”

“I always tell her that Daddy is on a business trip. He has very secret work, and he’ll come back when she’s grown. If you take her away, everything I’ve painstakingly built falls apart.”

Ji Huaqing was silent. She had a feeling that Ningning and she were connected—if not born of her, then at least bound by blood.

She thought it over calmly, unwilling to give up, and met Gu Yining’s cold eyes. “Is she Ji Huaming’s daughter?”

A calm smile crossed Gu Yining’s face. The Ji Huaqing in her eyes looked a little awkward, a blush spreading over her fair cheeks, stirring a restlessness in her heart.

Ji Huaqing still blushed so easily.

“Yes. She’s Ji Huaming’s daughter.”

“And her mother?” Ji Huaqing’s heart skipped a beat. Looking at Gu Yining, her heart clenched hard. She never imagined Gu Yining would adopt her brother’s daughter.

Gu Yining raised her eyes to her. “Her mother ran off with the money. At first, Ji Huaming and I started a company together. Later, we disagreed, and he left the company.”

“He founded his own company, mainly in cosmetics. Then something happened—he went to prison, his wife ran off, leaving Ningning.”

“Because you’d disappeared, your parents were heartbroken. Ji Huaming didn’t dare trouble them, so he asked his lawyer to entrust the child to Zhou Hui. But Zhou Hui is busy, and school matters are complicated. She worried she couldn’t take care of Ningning, so she refused Ji Huaming. When I heard about it, I found Ji Huaming and signed an adoption agreement. Ningning is my daughter now.”

“I haven’t been alone in raising her all these years. You just saw—Zhou Hui is deeply involved in her schooling. So the Ji Ningning you see has the Gu family for daily life and Zhou Hui, the private principal, for academics. You don’t need to interfere. Just watch her grow up quietly.”

As she spoke, Gu Yining took the chance to look straight at Ji Huaqing.

Ji Huaqing was twenty-eight, with wonderful skin. Makeup-free, she looked like a girl fresh out of college, glowing with soft light.

The school legend had it that she had a gentle temper, never got angry, and always had laughter in her soft, dark eyes. The heart affected the body, and so her skin was wonderful.

She really was pale, and now, with a touch of shyness, like peach blossoms of March sweeping over her face, leaving behind the color of flowers.

For a long while, Ji Huaqing said nothing. She lowered her head, picked up her milk, and took a numb sip, utterly listless.

Gu Yining leaned back in her chair and unbuttoned her shirt collar, letting herself relax a little. She felt warm, and rose to say, “I’ll go change.”

With that, she left. Ji Huaqing finally found the courage to lift her head and look at her retreating figure.

She set her gaze carefully upon her—tall figure, long, straight legs, radiant and easy on the eyes. So why had Gu Yining adopted her brother’s daughter?

The Gu Yining of today was flawless. Not a single flaw could be found in her. She seemed like a figurine that heaven had taken great care to mold—whether in temperament or figure, beyond reproach. And she had adopted Ji Ningning out of wedlock. For what?

The answer formed faintly in Ji Huaqing’s heart, but she didn’t dare presume.

She and Gu Yining had only spent two years together. Two years wasn’t long—in the river of time, it counted for nothing.

In the empty dining room, Ji Huaqing sat lost in thought until Song Mingyao at the entryway broke her reverie.

“Teacher Ji, good morning.”

Song Mingyao wore a white shirt with embroidery, the white setting off a very easy-on-the-eyes face. She stood properly in the entryway, greeting Ji Huaqing politely.

Ji Huaqing sipped her milk, pressing down the waves in her heart. “Good morning, Miss Song.”

“‘Miss Song’ is too formal—just call me Little Song.” Song Mingyao smiled softly, habitually changing into slippers and walking over. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Very well.”

Gu Yining came back in a red shirt, collar open, showing off elegant collarbones.

“I looked everywhere, and I don’t know why there are so many shirts in this house.” Gu Yining muttered, her fingers brushing the collarbone beneath her collar, making the spot look irresistible.

Her skin was fair to begin with, her hair black enough to feel cold. Pinned up now, it bared the skin at the back of her neck—pale, beautiful.

“Have you eaten?” As if unaware of Ji Huaqing’s stare, Gu Yining sat down and invited Song Mingyao: “Have some. I made sandwiches; there’s still a little.”

Song Mingyao sat down cheerfully, then caught Ji Huaqing’s eye and reflexively stood up again. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

Ji Huaqing, lost in thought with cold eyes, looked at her. “Why not?”

“Eat up. We have a lot to do today.” Gu Yining took a bite of her fried egg, finished it in two or three mouthfuls, and washed it down with milk.

A bit of white milk clung to the corner of her lips, making them look red and vivid.

Ji Huaqing glanced at it, then quickly looked away. Almost as a reflex, she pushed the tissue box to her. “Wipe your mouth.”

Gu Yining thanked her quietly, smiled politely, and looked steadily at Song Mingyao. “I heard someone below made a scene.”

“Yes. She was a player, two-timing, and got exposed.” Song Mingyao said.

Auntie Wang brought Song Mingyao a sandwich and asked, “Want a fried egg too?”

“No, thank you, Auntie Wang.” Song Mingyao thanked her.

Once Auntie Wang was back in the kitchen, she continued, “It blew up big—made the trending searches. Several executives discussed it and decided to drop her. The account’s being revoked.”

“Then follow the company’s decision.” Gu Yining nodded. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Keep a closer eye next time. The company poured resources into making her famous. She should cherish it. Something like this needs to happen only once; it affects the whole company. Find a replacement.”

“Okay. I’ll inform the executives. When are you going back to the office?” Song Mingyao put down her sandwich, took out her phone, typed a quick line, and said, “Sent.”

Gu Yining ate her sandwich in silence, not answering.

Listening to their conversation, Ji Huaqing was utterly lost. She still didn’t understand what the company did.

She looked at Gu Yining, and at the same time, Gu Yining was studying her, the corner of her mouth curving into a tiny arc.

After breakfast, Lu Xi finally came down. She slept poorly—for years she’d been troubled by nightmares, waking and dozing ceaselessly, unable to sleep yet unable to wake.

Mornings, Auntie Wang generally woke Ningning, fed her, and the driver took her to school.

Lu Xi was like the backbone of the household. With her here, Ningning had her grandmother, and Gu Yining had a mother when she came home. She rubbed her forehead, looking at the three, and realized it was late. “Leaving already?”

“I’ll be back in a couple of days.” Gu Yining walked over and hugged Lu Xi. “If you miss me, call me.”

Embarrassed before an outsider, Lu Xi blushed and pushed her away, then, without meaning to, glanced at Ji Huaqing and asked, “Feeling that good?”

Ever since last night, she’d sensed her daughter’s mood had changed.

“Not exactly. I have things to take care of. Keep an eye on Ningning.” Gu Yining smiled faintly.

Then she led Song Mingyao out.

Lu Xi stepped outside, watching her daughter get into the car, waving goodbye. Within the window, Ji Huaqing’s profile appeared.

She steadied herself. When she had gotten out of prison, Ji Huaqing was the one who had moved in across the hall. Lu Xi had never met her.

Her impression of Ji Huaqing: a Chinese teacher in her twenties, pretty, gentle, patient.

Almost every perfect word had been given to Ji Huaqing.

In Gu Yining’s heart, she was the white moonlight—visible but unreachable, forever unattainable.

The car stopped steadily at the police station. Gu Yining got out. Song Mingyao pressed the tablet into Ji Huaqing’s hands. “Amuse yourself with this. We’ll be back in a bit.”

The two went inside, one after the other. Ji Huaqing held the tablet; the screen was like a mirror, reflecting her cheeks clearly.

About fifteen minutes later, the two returned, Song Mingyao holding a document folder.

Gu Yining walked in the sun, her cold, handsome face paired with the red shirt. At first glance, she looked wild and untamable. The corner of her lips curved lightly—a complete enchantress.

The car set off again. For the next stretch, they said nothing.

Gu Yining fiddled with her laptop, making occasional calls, while Ji Huaqing, at leisure, stole the occasional glance at her.

Near noon, Zhou Hui called.

Zhou Hui’s tone was good: “It’s settled. They apologized; the parents apologized too. They promised there won’t be a next time.”

“Can that be trusted?” Gu Yining asked.

“If there is a next time, expulsion. Direct.” Zhou Hui said.

Gu Yining was satisfied. “Good.”

The line went suddenly quiet. Gu Yining was about to hang up when the other side spoke again: “Who is that person, really?”

Gu Yining’s eyes shifted, landing on Ji Huaqing, who was dozing with her eyes closed. A figure from a mirror, made flesh.

She said, “The person I love.”

There was a long silence on Zhou Hui’s end. Gu Yining didn’t hang up; she knew Zhou Hui was thinking.

After thirty seconds, Zhou Hui finally asked, “Are you not ashamed before Ji Huaqing?”

Hearing her own name, Ji Huaqing opened her eyes, looking at Gu Yining in confusion.

Gu Yining had wronged her?