Chapter 94: Revenge

Actually, none of it mattered anymore.

Even without it, it was fine.

The things she couldn’t beg for back then were still out of reach now that she was grown.

Why cling to them?

Lu Huan withdrew her gaze and drew the curtains closed.

The location was a bit farther north, so mid-October brought cooler weather than Jinning. After their afternoon flight landed, they headed straight to the hotel—otherwise, with the clothes she had on, Lu Huan would have frozen on the way.

She settled onto the bed early, planning to rest soon and handle tomorrow’s work later.

Opening WeChat, she saw that Bai Jin had sent her lunchtime photos as usual.

Every day without fail. Just like how Lu Huan used to message Bai Jin right on schedule back then.

Lu Huan’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating for a long time, unsure how to reply. In the end, she just turned off the screen and left it unanswered.

At first, when she promised to come over for meals every day, Lu Huan had only wanted to stabilize Bai Jin’s emotions so she could properly accept treatment. Nothing more.

But as the visits piled up…

Their relationship had gradually blurred.

Lu Huan didn’t even know what they were to each other now.

They weren’t sisters anymore.

Nor lovers.

So what were they? Friends? Ex-girlfriends?

But after everything they’d been through, they’d never once confirmed their status. No heartfelt “I like you—be my girlfriend,” no declaration that they were a couple.

So maybe they didn’t even qualify as exes.

Every time Lu Huan tried to sort it out, her mind turned into a tangled mess.

She had wondered, what if she hadn’t done those things back then?

What if she hadn’t gotten close to Bai Jin just to make her voluntarily end things—tricking her into trusting, then deceiving and abandoning her? Would they have ended up like this?

But Lu Huan refused to judge herself.

She certainly wouldn’t play God and condemn her past self.

Lu Huan switched off the lights, adjusted her position for sleep, closed her eyes, and pushed her worries aside.

They’d talk once Bai Jin was better.

…

The next day, a business exhibition kicked off.

Top executives from various companies gathered, a prime chance to expand networks and negotiate deals.

On the way there by car, Lu Huan glanced down at her phone and spotted a message.

[I went to see them. We’re discussing the next treatment.]

[It went smoothly.]

Seeing these two messages from Bai Jin and learning the therapy session had gone well eased Lu Huan’s tension a bit. But an inexplicable unease soon followed.

Maybe things were going too smoothly.

Bai Jin had been too compliant. Just Lu Huan’s promise to come for meals and meet up had been enough to make her obediently seek treatment.

That obsessive side of her seemed to have vanished again.

Lu Huan figured it was because she’d witnessed Bai Jin’s unhinged moments several times—she couldn’t yet reconcile this compliant version with the obsessive one.

The contrast was just too stark, making everything feel off.

She hoped that was all it was.

“Why the frown?” Yi Ming turned her head to speak just as she noticed Lu Huan’s furrowed brow.

Lu Huan snapped back to attention and shook her head.

“It’s nothing.”

The car pulled up to the exhibition hall, where dedicated staff ushered them inside.

The event was grand, with full hospitality services.

Inside, Yi Ming quietly observed everyone present, taking in their expressions and postures.

“Did you see over there?” Yi Ming’s gaze landed on a woman with a sharp, sleek black bob, idly twirling a wine glass. She looked about thirty. “Lu Changyue.”

The name sparked a memory in Lu Huan’s mind, and she nodded. “I saw.”

She was a big name in the jewelry world—the one who’d taken a failing company and turned it into a powerhouse.

Lu Huan also recalled that Lu Changyue was from Jinning originally, though she’d relocated later.

Just then, Lu Changyue glanced their way, their eyes meeting. She offered a polite smile.

Lu Huan and Yi Ming curved their lips in response, nodding back.

The evening bustled on amid the crowd.

About halfway through, as Lu Huan chatted with Yi Ming, Lu Changyue passed by to grab a glass from the table and overheard Lu Huan speaking in the Jinning dialect.

Lu Changyue’s eyes swept over Lu Huan, picking up on something.

“From your accent, you’re from Jinning?”

Seeing they might chat, Yi Ming excused herself first, leaving Lu Huan and Lu Changyue alone.

Lu Huan met her gaze and nodded slightly. “Yes.”

“What a coincidence.” Lu Changyue smiled easily. “I’m from Jinning too—born and raised.”

“Small world.”

…

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. Lu Huan followed Lu Changyue’s leads, and each topic wrapped up smoothly before the next began. Lu Changyue regarded the woman before her, her expression softening.

They talked about their Jinning hometown, then business ventures, then Lu Changyue herself.

“I heard you joined the company at eighteen and took over officially at twenty-two?”

Noting Lu Huan’s reaction, she added, “At the end of the day, my heart’s still back home. I keep tabs on Jinning news.”

After a bit more talk, Lu Changyue had gleaned a brief outline of Lu Huan’s story. She sighed with genuine admiration. “You young ones these days—each generation outdoes the last.”

“At your age, I was already crumbling under the pressure. My mental health tanked more than once.”

It wasn’t some deep secret or taboo—her history was public knowledge—so she said plainly, “There was a stretch where I was really down, and therapy got me through it.”

“The clinic I went to back then? Years later, it’s one of Jinning’s top spots now—the Psychological Clinic. You’ve heard of it?”

Lu Huan asked for the exact name, and Lu Changyue raised an eyebrow. “That’s the one. You’ve looked into it too?”

Lu Huan nodded. “A friend needed help recently. I checked it out for her.”

“I see. Wishing her a speedy recovery.” Lu Changyue mentioned casually, “Though she might have to wait a bit. They’re relocating the clinic right now, so the therapists are off on vacation during the downtime.”

Lu Huan latched onto that. “So they’re closed at the moment?”

“Yes.” Lu Changyue eyed her curiously at the question. “Why? Something wrong?”

Lu Huan paused, her mind racing. Then she brushed it off. “Nothing. Just curious.”

They parted on good terms—Lu Changyue even added her on WeChat before being called away, suggesting they keep in touch.

Lu Huan stood, watching her go.

A moment later, she slipped to a quiet corner, pulled out her phone, and opened WeChat, staring at their chat.

The last message was still Bai Jin’s claim that things had gone smoothly.

After a long silence, Lu Huan dialed her number.

It took a while for Bai Jin to pick up.

“Have you gone to bed?” Lu Huan asked.

“Not yet,” Bai Jin replied. “Just back from the hospital—got my dressing changed.”

She’d gone for a dressing change?

Lu Huan pressed, “Why wait until evening?”

“I went to the Psychological Clinic during the day—like I told you.”

Was it really the clinic?

But Lu Huan had just learned they were closed.

Lu Huan fell silent, then decided not to press. “It’s chilly at night. Go out during the day next time.”

“Got it,” Bai Jin agreed.

Bai Jin asked about Lu Huan’s work in turn.

As they were about to hang up, Lu Huan called her name, her voice dropping. “When I get back, let’s have a real talk.”

Bai Jin already knew full well from Lu Huan’s tone.

She nodded, though Lu Huan couldn’t see it.

“Okay.”

The call ended, and Lu Huan stared at the screen for a long while.

Bai Jin was lying to her.

She hadn’t scheduled with the clinic at all—hadn’t gone for a session.

Why?

Still because of her? Just to keep her coming for daily meals?

…

By the event’s close, night had fully fallen outside.

A full evening of hustle, plus dealing with people, had drained her completely. Yi Ming leaned against the car window, unusually quiet for once.

Lu Huan leaned against the other side, too preoccupied to feel the exhaustion.

Her mind was still on Bai Jin.

These thoughts had spun through her head all night.

Why lie and refuse to go?

Streetlights whipped past outside as Lu Huan stared into the dark, her fingers slowly rubbing together, mirroring the confusion in her heart.

A sudden glow lit the dim car interior—Lu Huan’s phone screen.

She checked it: an email from an unknown sender, signed by Bai Shan.

Her again.

Persistent as a ghost.

Last time, after that inexplicable “meet-up,” Lu Huan had sensed ulterior motives, blocked her, and heard nothing since.

Lu Huan opened it: surveillance footage.

The timestamp was from two years ago.

It appeared to be a high-rise rooftop at night—hazy, but clear enough to make out two figures standing apart.

A man teetered on the edge.

That curly hair on the woman…

Bai Jin…?

Lu Huan peered closer, confirming it was her.

Who was the man facing her?

His face was grotesque, marred by what looked like severe burns.

The footage ticked on; they were too far for words, but clearly talking.

Lu Huan watched intently.

Then her pupils dilated as a memory hit.

—Bai Jin had once told her that after handing over the company, her father had taken his own life.

So this man…

Before Lu Huan could squint for a better look, the video cut to the next moment: the man leaped from the roof.

Bai Jin stood motionless, utterly calm.

It was footage of his suicide.

A chill premonition welled up in Lu Huan’s heart. As the video ended, Bai Shan’s name appeared below.

Why send her this?

The car pulled up to the hotel, and Lu Huan hurried back to her room. She quickly pulled up Bai Shan’s old contact from her blocked list and made the call.

Bai Shan answered almost immediately, as if she had anticipated the move and been waiting for it.

“Little President Lu, you’ve finally decided to reach out to me?”

“Cut the crap,” Lu Huan said bluntly. “Why did you send me that video?”

“I’ve got something good, so of course I had to share it with you~” Bai Shan drawled, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Want to team up with me for some revenge on her, Little President Lu?”