Chapter 2: MAMA-02

MAMA-02: Better Call the Police

Mi Shanxin was stunned. She didn’t respond to the eight-thousand-yuan demand for compensation. Instead, she picked up her phone, ready to call the police.

Seeing her input 110, Zeng Baian hurriedly tried to stop her. “Little sister, I’m sorry. Don’t listen to her nonsense. No need to pay for it. She was asking for it.”

On the side, Little Zheng watched Mi Shanxin’s pale face, truly afraid she might faint from shock.

She had thought earlier that the kid next to her had unnaturally pale skin, like she hadn’t been properly exposed to sunlight. Such a cold white shade in real life—it was just too un-lifelike.

This kid must have been sitting there all afternoon, maybe even a regular at the cafe. She saw a staff member pour her hot water, asking why she was still waiting for the Frappuccino to melt, saying it wouldn’t taste good once melted, and so on.

Although nowadays some people looked stunning with the lower half of their face covered but completely ordinary when fully revealed, Mi Shanxin’s eyes were large, yes, but lifeless, much like two black stones without highlights. Among a crowd, she wasn’t that ordinary either.

The oversized hoodie made her frame look even smaller. She had gone to the restroom midway. Little Zheng saw her sleeves droop down, covering her hands, almost like water sleeves in traditional opera. It was truly ill-fitting.

“…Asked for it?” Mi Shanxin clutched her phone. It was also an old model from many years ago. Zeng Baian swept her eyes over her a few times and immediately assessed the price of the kid’s entire outfit. She hummed in affirmation. “She didn’t mean it that way.”

Mi Shanxin was still seated. Zeng Baian threw a tissue at Jian Wanji’s face, who was still smiling. “Go clean yourself up. The first floor also has clothing stores. Get lost.”

Jian Wanji refused to leave. She merely wiped her face. “I have something to say to her. Can’t let her get away.”

After knowing her for so many years, Zeng Baian understood why she had done this the moment she saw Mi Shanxin’s face.

On the side, Little Zheng belatedly took out the photos she had brought, comparing the woman in the photo with Mi Shanxin’s appearance.

She suddenly understood why the people they found before didn’t meet Jian Wanji’s requirements. Some looked similar in form but not in spirit; even standing before you, they felt bland and uninspired.

And while some might not look particularly alike in appearance, this kind of cold, aloof, otherworldly feeling had a ninety-nine percent similarity match.

Even a typecast actor couldn’t achieve this. This kid looked like a student and probably wouldn’t be easy to convince.

What parent would let their child play a woman who had been dead for thirty years, let alone be the mother of a nearly forty-year-old woman?

“I know. You go take care of that first. Don’t make more trouble for the staff. They still have to mop the floor. Go atone for your sins.” Zeng Baian’s short hair and teardrop-shaped earrings swayed, strongly distracting Mi Shanxin. She was a bit nervous, holding her phone. “What are you trying to do?”

Zeng Baian sat on another stool and gravely apologized to the little girl. “I’m sorry, classmate. My friend is looking for a suitable actress to play her mother.”

Mi Shanxin was stunned for a moment. She looked up. The woman drenched in ice-cold drink in the middle of winter didn’t care about others’ stares. She wiped her collar while speaking to the girl who was filming, seemingly trying to persuade the other party to stop.

Soon, she went to the counter to find a staff member, pointed towards Mi Shanxin’s seat area, and then turned a corner, likely heading into the shopping mall.

Zeng Baian and Jian Wanji were the same age. She worked at an insurance company, and her parents ran a liquor retail store.

She had been classmates with Jian Wanji in middle school. They weren’t in the same high school but kept in touch and had a good relationship.

Although they’d known each other for many years, by the time she met Jian Wanji, the other’s parents were already gone.

Jian Wanji lived with her maternal grandmother. The family discipline was very strict. She was the female classmate whose pocket money was practically zero in her classmates’ eyes.

Her friend had few relatives. Now the old lady was advanced in years. The end stage of her chronic illnesses was organ failure. Her mind was unclear. She had been sent to a hospice ward, just waiting to pass on.

At the very end, the old lady still fretted about her youngest daughter who had died so young. She kept muttering about her. The hospice caregiver said the old lady always stood by the window, waiting for her daughter to come home from school so they could have a late-night snack together.

Ordinary people might just let the old lady wait in a daze or coax her.

Jian Wanji, however, took a completely different approach. She wanted to find an actress who could play her deceased mother.

No age limit. Daily wages. Starting at one hundred thousand.

Initially, Zeng Baian advised her it wasn’t necessary. What kind of demons and monsters would this attract?

Later, she still helped Jian Wanji contact a classmate who had switched careers to open a film company. That classmate introduced her to agent Ms. Zheng.

Another while passed, still no results.

She couldn’t even tell who was more obsessed anymore. Based on Jian Wanji’s age when her parents died, she should have long had no impression of them. Besides, how could the mother in her eyes possibly be the same as the daughter in her grandmother’s eyes?

Usually very easy-going, Jian Wanji was stubborn on this point. She interviewed many people, yet still found no one suitable.

Today, Little Zheng came to resign. She felt she couldn’t handle this job anymore. But just now, seeing the bag Jian Wanji gave her, she seemed to feel she could manage after all.

In terms of social skills, Zeng Baian, as a salesperson, wasn’t as cunning as Jian Wanji. It seemed that none of those who could build a leading company from scratch were good eggs.

And now she was even capable of threatening a little girl.

Zeng Baian looked at the girl before her. It felt like even speaking loudly would scare her. The kid was just like a fragile little bird, one that hadn’t even finished fledging, encountering a cunning raptor.

She had to lower her voice, using an attitude several hundred times gentler than when dealing with her own daughter, to describe her friend’s motives to Mi Shanxin.

On the side, Little Zheng thought: It’s not that pitiful.

Both parents deceased was true, but being very close to the grandmother? Not really.

Based on the information she’d gathered since accepting the commission, plus some videos from when Jian Wanji’s grandmother Wan Qingqing was still mentally sound, as well as accounts from Ms. Wan’s friends, this grandparent-grandchild pair communicated very little.

The outwardly eloquent and extroverted Jian Wanji just didn’t have many words for her own grandmother.

The specific family matters were things outsiders couldn’t know.

Although people called her Little Zheng, she wasn’t much younger than Jian Wanji. Thirty-nine years old was one foot in the grave to a kid, but for a businesswoman, it was still a career rising period. In her eyes, this Jian Wanji, always smiling on the surface, wasn’t so easy to fool.

“…So that’s the situation,” Zeng Baian looked at the girl whose mask was still hanging under her chin. “Can you understand?”

Mi Shanxin shook her head. “I can’t understand.”

“No matter how well you act, it’s not a real mother.”

Zeng Baian: So damn true. That’s exactly how I tried to convince her.

How could Jian Wanji not understand a truth that even a child could grasp?

“What are you all chatting about?” At that moment, the woman who had rushed to a clothing store on the first floor to buy new clothes came in with a paper bag and sat down, nudging Zeng Baian aside.

Earlier, Jian Wanji had also ordered a few small cakes at the counter, several macarons too. She piled them all on the table. Mi Shanxin hadn’t touched a single bite.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Jian Wanji looked at Mi Shanxin. “Classmate, what’s your name?”

“Don’t like sweets, huh?” As she spoke, she picked up the empty cup Mi Shanxin had thrown earlier. “Seventy percent sugar… sweet enough.”

Mi Shanxin stared at the three women before her and thought tangentially: Combined, they must be over a hundred years old.

She didn’t look much like a university student. Thin, weak, shriveled, and pale, she was just like the white part of a scallion losing its moisture, as if signs of decay would soon climb onto her exterior. Her pupils were very dark, yet not lively. She looked lifelessly at Jian Wanji. “Do you have to have me and no one else?”

Perhaps because it was bought in a hurry, the sweater Jian Wanji wore inside still had its tag attached.

Her skin tone was considered fair. Grape-purple even brightened her complexion. Sitting next to Mi Shanxin, the cool-white contrast was too obvious, making the little girl look even more fragile, helpless, and pitiful.

“Of course, I have to have you and no one else.” Jian Wanji pushed the desserts towards Mi Shanxin. Maybe it was the nature of her smile-lip surgery, but even her face looked much more fawning. “The price is negotiable.”

Zeng Baian was really afraid someone would call the police. She had to add another question. “Little sister, how old are you? Graduated high school, right?”

Mi Shanxin hummed in agreement. “Twenty years old.”

Zeng Baian breathed a sigh of relief. Jian Wanji asked, “What’s your name? Where do you live… Ow, don’t step on me.”

The woman’s long hair was still tied behind her head. The permed fringe edges were frizzy, perhaps from rushing back after changing clothes. The edges weren’t lying flat, making her look very much like Mi Shanxin’s neighbor’s Springer Spaniel with the curly ears.

Her expression twisted for a split second from her friend’s high-heel attack, but quickly returned to the squinty-eyed, smiling look. “Really, I need you so much. Please, I’m begging you to help me.”

“You can name any conditions.”

The coffee shop had small tables. The long ones were at the bar counter. Mi Shanxin didn’t like sharing tables or bar stools; they gave her a feeling of stepping into empty space.

But having three people at this kind of small table was far too cramped. Her computer was surrounded by desserts. Earlier, Jian Wanji had thrown away her empty cup, and the server had made her a new drink, which was clearly also ordered by this woman.

Under Jian Wanji’s expectant gaze, Mi Shanxin pushed the desserts back. Her long eyelashes lowered. Her voice was dull and slow when she spoke. “It’s very crowded. Can you all go away?”

Jian Wanji: …

Zeng Baian laughed. She patted Jian Wanji’s shoulder. “Alright, stop bothering this little one with her homework.”

She pulled her friend back. “We can find another actor. Don’t harass a university student.”

Mi Shanxin never felt guilty for rejecting others. “Yes.”

“Or I’ll call the police.”

She even nodded to herself as she spoke. A few strands of hair drooped onto her hood, a few others nestled with the nape of her neck for warmth. Maybe it was the hoodie’s color, or perhaps Mi Shanxin’s attitude, but Jian Wanji felt like she was looking at a penguin.

She nodded, as if taking it in. But before turning away, she asked Mi Shanxin, “Then can I know your name?”

Mi Shanxin shook her head. “No.”

Jian Wanji was different from her friends. She seemed to be forever smiling. Mi Shanxin hadn’t noticed earlier, but there was also a small black mole at the corner of the other’s right eye.

Now the other party was leaning in so close. Even though she had changed clothes, that faint, spicy perfume scent lingered.

It should be pungent, yet Mi Shanxin felt she was too dazzling.

“Really?” The squinty eyes disappeared. The smile-curved lips could also downturn. Such a mature woman let out an emotional sigh. “Was my request too excessive?”

“That was harassment.” Mi Shanxin opened her computer, intending to continue editing her video. The woman casually swept her eyes over her screen, then looked away. “It’s not being a real mother. It’s acting. Daily wages, that’s all.”

Mi Shanxin: “I’d consider it for a daily rate of one hundred thousand.”

Even Zeng Baian was shocked. Do kids nowadays watch too many short dramas? Does everyone they randomly meet on the street turn out to be a Wall Street tycoon?

She was so afraid Jian Wanji would agree and then get sued for fraud.

“That’s not possible.” Jian Wanji said, “A daily rate of ten thousand is no problem.”

Forget university students—for an ordinary office worker, this was high pay.

Although Zeng Baian knew the hardships Jian Wanji faced starting her business and understood her current wealth was well-earned, she still felt… resentment towards the rich.

But the little classmate clearly didn’t take it seriously. She stared at her screen, her large eyes lifeless, much like those plush animal dolls online that stared at a computer helplessly, face full of seriousness yet forced to start working.

Mi Shanxin firmly refused. “My stamina is poor. I’ll faint if work exceeds three hours.”

Jian Wanji didn’t intend to let go. “No problem. Still counts as a day’s wage.”

She tried to find an opening to exploit from Mi Shanxin’s peeling backpack and the hoodie with its print stuck together.

But Mi Shanxin noticed her scrutiny. “You’re leering at me. I don’t trust you.”

After speaking, she closed her laptop, unconcerned about anyone’s gaze. She packed her bag and put it on. A small body, a huge backpack. The student vibe was so strong that Zeng Baian’s elementary school daughter seemed more like an adult in comparison.

“Where are you going?” Jian Wanji wanted to grab her arm, but because of that “leering” comment, she didn’t lay a hand on her.

“I’m going to class.”

“Isn’t it winter break?” Jian Wanji asked.

“I’m a teacher.” Throwing down those four words, the girl left without looking back.

“She’s smiling, of all things. And Little Zheng, what’s your problem?” Jian Wanji’s smile failed to load. She propped her face in frustration and asked.

“Sorry, Sister Wanji. You finally got a taste of your own medicine. It was way too satisfying.” Little Zheng had been holding back her laughter for ages. She finally burst out.

Her friend was even less polite. “I told you, you can’t use the same trick on everyone. Even if you’re a single pringle, you can’t be this frivolous forever.”

“I don’t understand what young people think nowadays. I swear I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, Sister Wanji,” Little Zheng coughed. “The way you slipped a business card into the kid’s backpack side pocket just now was super creepy.”

“You actually have a physical business card? What era is this from?”

“Wow, you guys. Be nicer to me, would you?”

…

After class, Mi Shanxin had dinner with Li Yin. But the restaurant had a waiting line.

As Li Yin stood beside her, she suddenly pulled out a piece of paper from Mi Shanxin’s side pocket.

“…Mi Shanxin, why is there a business card in your backpack?”

“Who pranked you? How can someone be named Jian Wanji? That’s just too slapdash, All-Is-Well, hahaha.”

“Don’t make fun of people’s names.” Mi Shanxin paused after speaking. “She wanted to give me one hundred thousand to be her mother.”

Her friend’s laughter stopped abruptly. “What?! What kind of pervert is that!”

“Mi Shanxin! Did you call the police?!”