Jian Wanji really did book a hospital appointment for Mi Shanxin.
In Mi Shanxin’s view, going to the hospital was very troublesome.
She knew Jian Wanji had money power, and she seemed to know a lot of people, whether it was the female doctor who stood very close that day, or the doctor guiding Jian Wanji and Mi Shanxin to the Sleep Disorder Department this time.
The female doctor at the private hospital had her long hair tied at the ends, her face naturally gentle, though she looked sleep-deprived, her lips somewhat dry. “This shouldn’t be your daughter, right?”
“If I had a twenty-year-old daughter, do you think you wouldn’t know?” Jian Wanji wore that signature smile again. Mi Shanxin stood to the side, boredly observing them.
Her backpack was still in Jian Wanji’s car. The request made last night, and the next day Jian Wanji had already brought her to the hospital.
It was an early morning appointment. Mi Shanxin hadn’t slept nearly enough when the woman came to pick her up.
The neighbor aunt even thought Mi Shanxin had found her real family, suspecting she was some long-lost bloodline of a wealthy clan.
Mi Shanxin didn’t know what to say. If she really were, why would Jian Wanji need her as a Little Mother? Jian Wanji might as well be her real mother.
“That’s true.” The doctor chatting with Jian Wanji knocked on the door, then gestured for Mi Shanxin to enter.
The young girl was small in stature, her hoodie overly large, a mask covering her face, revealing a pair of listless eyes.
Dark circles weren’t easy to hide. Her mental state fit the patient profile of this floor perfectly. The doctor friend asked again: “Is she a relative of yours?”
Jian Wanji wasn’t in frequent contact with this friend either, too lazy to explain the full backstory. She nodded, smiling, “You could say that.”
“Same as ever, always grinning cheekily when you don’t want to answer.” The doctor didn’t press further. Jian Wanji pointed at the occupied consultation room, asking, “Can I go in?”
The escorting doctor had other matters, lifting her chin. “Ask yourself. Technically, being an adult, she doesn’t need accompaniment.”
Jian Wanji had thick skin and really went in.
The attending physician had a long list of titles. Jian Wanji had glanced at them earlier; she didn’t understand these things, just figured they looked professional.
She watched Mi Shanxin present her previous medical records, very calmly mentioning the sleep disorder that had plagued her for years.
Listening in, Jian Wanji felt as if sitting on pins and needles.
She was paying to hire an actor to play her deceased mother. By nature, this was a commercial transaction, a business exchange, and shouldn’t involve any intersection beyond work.
Unfortunately, their collaboration wasn’t standard. Mi Shanxin wasn’t a professional actor, and Jian Wanji couldn’t do without her.
Moreover, this entanglement was something Jian Wanji herself had sought out.
Money wasn’t that important to Jian Wanji. It was the things beyond money that weren’t so easily resolved.
Jian Wanji had been single until now, long accustomed to private life, even more averse to having concerns weighing on her heart.
Even when married friends went out with them, they usually calculated the time well.
The child was about to finish school, the child needed to buy something. Knowing that children also need personal space was one thing, knowing it’s fine to be away for a day or two was another, but not being able to let go was yet another.
Sui Yuqian was also like this when in love, never constantly saying “my girlfriend.” As the car drove past a certain shop, she’d ask Jian Wanji, who was driving, to stop. She saw the roses at the florist’s door were beautiful and wanted to buy a bouquet for her girlfriend.
Jian Wanji rarely faked anything in front of them. Probably because her speechlessness was too obvious, friends would deliberately ask in retort: “Jealous?”
Jian Wanji said: “I’ve brought things for you all too, it’s not the same.”
She distinguished clearly between friendship and love, and knew that concerns and longing weren’t entirely the same. She just didn’t want to create an unnecessary vulnerability, to be occupied by another worry during hard-earned vacation time.
Even when returning home, Jian Wanji wouldn’t bring the chaos of gatherings back with her. Lying on the sofa, zoning out, was pure enjoyment.
After getting to know Mi Shanxin, Jian Wanji’s malicious filial piety had been satisfied, but her conscience suffered constant lashing, no different from shooting herself in the foot.
Jian Wanji didn’t deliberately investigate Mi Shanxin’s family situation. Some things were obvious at a glance.
The girl had no fine clothes, poor and frugal. The strange thing was, she wasn’t self-conscious at all, feeling no shame during class when kids noticed the fraying seams of her hoodie.
Young yet world-weary. If talking about liveliness, even Jian Wanji probably had more vitality than her.
The doctor knew Jian Wanji was the parent accompanying Mi Shanxin and didn’t ask much, seeing the patient also consented, not asking Jian Wanji to leave.
Mi Shanxin had seen doctors before. This type of disorder was mostly related to psychology, not something completely solvable with medication.
But the girl’s body couldn’t handle strenuous exercise, and she often existed in a daze. When talking to the doctor now, mentioning her parents, she seemed a beat slow, speaking of divorce, parents remarrying, each parent remarrying, new younger siblings.
Clearly, Mi Shanxin was the person involved, yet it was as if she detachedly narrated this tedious experience lacking any narrative quality from a third-person perspective.
When asked about rare good sleep, the girl also showed none of the shame ordinary people have mentioning sexual matters, saying: “…After signing the part-time contract, I worried I wouldn’t have the energy for classes, but I really needed the money.”
Mi Shanxin’s large eyes were like cosmic black holes, harboring a quiet danger. Aside from her height, she didn’t give the impression of being easily bullied.
“Frequency?”
“Daily.”
“When did you notice it wasn’t as effective anymore?”
“After meeting her.”
When the doctor looked at Jian Wanji, the girl still kept her head down, sitting before the doctor with habitual slouched shoulders, unlike Jian Wanji, who, having been forced by her grandmother’s upbringing to keep her spine straight, carried herself with poise everywhere—which completely contradicted her lazy aura.
“Hm?” Jian Wanji made a surprised sound. Only then did the doctor realize the relationship between these two wasn’t quite right. She asked Jian Wanji: “You’re not her relative?”
“If she’s your girlfriend, just say so sooner.”
Jian Wanji: “I…”
Rarely was she this embarrassed. The instigator said: “Not girlfriend, she’s my Boss.”
The doctor frowned, looking at the age on the medical record. “Boss of a training institution?”
Mi Shanxin shook her head: “No, at the training class, she’s my student.”
Doctor: …
Jian Wanji: …
Why does it feel like the explanation just makes things worse?
Fortunately, the doctor wasn’t overly surprised, seemingly unfazed by their astonishing age gap. Probably had seen more extreme cases. She typed something on the screen, then let them leave.
Once the door closed, Jian Wanji stood stunned for a while. “That’s it?”
“A blood test, a form? Medicine?”
“I’ve taken medicine before, so I don’t need to be prescribed again.” Mi Shanxin thought she was making a fuss. “It requires self-regulation, didn’t you hear her say that?”
Jian Wanji wanted an answer that contradicted Mi Shanxin’s request. She hadn’t expected that her relationship with Mi Shanxin would be reinterpreted at the hospital as lovers, and because it was too common, it actually wasn’t unique at all.
Mi Shanxin saw the woman avert her gaze, and confirmed again: “So is what you said still valid?”
Jian Wanji didn’t answer immediately. Mi Shanxin wasn’t disappointed either, turning around very crisply: “Then I’m leaving.”
Jian Wanji pulled her back, unable to control her strength, nearly dragging the girl into her embrace.
After settling her onto a nearby seat, Jian Wanji said: “Wait for me a moment.”
She pushed the door open and went back in.
Mi Shanxin wasn’t anxious at all. She had no surprise about her own test report.
Aside from the cost issue, she had also chosen this method knowing it couldn’t be cured in the short term anyway.
Wasn’t this also a form of exercise?
After meeting Jian Wanji, Mi Shanxin’s life indeed had many changes.
She still couldn’t sleep well, so she could only blame Jian Wanji.
Jian Wanji came out quickly. It was already past lunchtime. The woman took Mi Shanxin away. “What do you want to eat?”
“Whatever, I need to prepare for class.” Mi Shanxin got in the car and fastened her seatbelt, asking at the same time: “Are you coming to class today?”
Jian Wanji: “No, I still have things to do.”
Mi Shanxin didn’t press further, nor did she ask what she discussed with the doctor just now.
Her curiosity was so short-lived it was almost non-existent, like a dying ember, just like her person, making one worry she could easily pass away silently.
After buying lunch for Mi Shanxin, Jian Wanji dropped her off at the institution. The girl didn’t bring up anything about the doctor’s suggestions or contract terms, calmly saying goodbye to Jian Wanji.
Jian Wanji’s car was parked by the roadside. She watched Mi Shanxin’s silhouette disappear from sight, kneading her temples with a headache.
At that moment, Sui Yuqian, back from vacation, called her. “I’m back, heading back from the airport. Thanks for wrapping things up yesterday.”
“By the way, Little Wu told me you asked her to help look into the Sleep Disorder Department?”
“You have trouble sleeping? Even when we were losing tens of millions, you could still sleep soundly.”
Sui Yuqian’s voice was different from Jian Wanji’s vibrant energy, and similar to Mi Shanxin’s—like they came from the same pot, mostly listless, the type who rarely exercised or found it inconvenient to.
“Not me.” From the corner of her eye, Jian Wanji spotted a tangled cord on the passenger seat, realizing it was Mi Shanxin’s tattered earphones. Under Jian Wanji’s insistence, she’d replaced her computer, yet today she still carried that old laptop with a fan sound like a typhoon, appearing rather nostalgic.
“Oh, the Little Mother you found, right.” The friend chuckled. “I haven’t met her yet. The company’s rumored you secretly married and had a daughter, even came looking for you.”
“Turns out my secretary saw a secretly taken photo and said the girl in the picture looks more like my kid.”
Jian Wanji’s mouth twitched. “You want her? You acknowledge her.”
Sui Yuqian was also her schoolmate, the trio having known each other for years, never standing on ceremony, laughing: “Then I’d have had to have a kid just after turning eighteen, how terrifying.”
“Besides, you’re calling her ‘Mom,’ so she’s my daughter, and I’d be of the same generation as your grandmother?”
Jian Wanji had no time for jokes with her, her voice noticeably more irritable. “Is there anything else? If not, I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t hang up, I haven’t finished asking.” Sui Yuqian had heard from Zeng Baian about Jian Wanji’s relentless pursuit of the actor Little Mother, and asked curiously: “Why take her to the hospital? A health certificate doesn’t require such fanfare, right? Is there a problem with your contract?”
Sui Yuqian was smarter than Zeng Baian, and with her rich romantic history, she thought more deeply than Zeng Baian.
She had long guessed Jian Wanji’s psychology: a workaholic who ironically sought stability in romance. Unfortunately, their circle wouldn’t have anyone like a blank sheet of paper. Even if there were, it would be a commercial trap.
Those outside the circle, Jian Wanji might not look highly upon, partly thinking it too hard to make last, partly too lazy to maintain.
Jian Wanji was willingly single, also fearing the soulmate-oath effect brought by her parents’ love-suicide pact. On the surface, she was very filial, seemingly following her grandmother’s expectations: singlehood, elite until death.
Sui Yuqian knew some people don’t need that kind of emotion, but Jian Wanji definitely wasn’t one of them. But if the person involved wouldn’t admit it, there was no helping it.
Although some words sounded very immoral, even as Jian Wanji’s friend, she wanted to see Jian Wanji at a loss.
She and Zeng Baian’s awkward moments, Jian Wanji had all witnessed. There must be a place for friends to be useful, to turn a statue into a living person, to break Jian Wanji’s curse related to “Mama.”
“Must you say it?” Jian Wanji closed her eyes, the doctor’s words still lingering in her mind.
She didn’t know what Mi Shanxin had said, but the doctor had defaulted to acknowledging their relationship, hoping she would take her girlfriend out more to bask in the sun, try not to touch electronic devices three hours before sleep, and not consume any caffeinated products after 2 PM.
If it were just that, Jian Wanji naturally wouldn’t be troubled.
“I won’t force you, but your attitude sounds off. I’m curious, what kind of female college student can torment you like this?”
Jian Wanji had zero romantic experience, same for sexual experience.
To her, it was a waste of time and inefficient. Though she’d once joked that if a relationship could bring in a massive project, she’d be willing.
In reality, she couldn’t do that kind of thing.
Zeng Baian couldn’t be asked; she simply didn’t understand. Sui Yuqian had dated a classmate back in Girls’ School and, her relationships to this day ending with being dumped, at least had a track record.
Jian Wanji’s sigh was especially long, staring at the winter afternoon sunlight.
The year was drawing to a close. Someone’s life countdown ticked away. She couldn’t let go of Mi Shanxin, so she had to agree to her addendum conditions.
“…Then I’ll ask you.”
“Ask.”
“…”
“Alright, I guessed it.” From the phone came Sui Yuqian’s breathless laughter. “The Little Mother you found wants to sleep with you.”
“Can you use a normal term? Compared to being my mom, she being your grandmother’s daughter is the actual job.” Jian Wanji didn’t want to admit it but couldn’t help sighing. “If only you calculated project results this accurately.”
“Well, that’s just how fate works.” Sui Yuqian was still laughing. “I’m not a pillow princess, asking me is useless.”
Jian Wanji: “I’m not asking you that.”
She closed her eyes, asking: “Is there any way to make someone quickly fall asleep tired from doing… that?”
Who knows what Sui Yuqian guessed again, but she laughed even more wildly. “Well, using your mouth gets results faster. Too bad, you have no experience, hard to learn quickly.”
Jian Wanji was rarely mocked like this, and didn’t know where this competitive spirit came from. “I can.”
