Colleagues fond of gossip had even purposefully dug up the old page. The girl paying her condolences, following her Grandmother, showed no trace of the current Jian Wanji—grinning and treating life like a game. It was like a completely different person.
“Nothing. What business did you have with me?” Sui Yuqian smiled and changed the subject, while simultaneously ordering someone to put something in Jian Wanji’s driver’s car.
Mi Shanxin still didn’t see Jian Wanji during her afternoon class. After class, her Teacher-in-Charge sought her out and asked Mi Shanxin: “Has Ms. Jian not come to class?”
Jian Wanji had signed the enrollment agreement long ago. If she came to class every day, the One-on-One Class hours would be used up quickly. But she was an adult; other classes also had this situation where people only came when free. They couldn’t really force her.
Mi Shanxin nodded. She was still her usual self, hair huddled around her neck and shoulders. Teacher Wang hesitated, struggling with her words, but finally said: “Shanxin, you need to either tie your hair up or cut it short. Look more energetic.”
“Although the kids haven’t complained about you, the instructor’s mental state also affects the Parent’s rating for us.”
This industry, ultimately, was still a service industry. Mi Shanxin wasn’t unfamiliar with complaints.
Her teaching ability was decent, it was just her lack of energy. The Head Teacher for the same course had already retired, her voice booming like a bell, far more vigorous than Mi Shanxin.
“If it really won’t work, putting on some makeup is also fine.” Teacher Wang knew about her difficult life situation and had tried her best to lower the commission taken from the one-on-one lesson fees. She added: “I had the finance department transfer Ms. Jian’s lesson fee to you. Check and confirm receipt.”
“I just got the text message earlier. Thank you, Teacher Wang.” Mi Shanxin’s voice was still very soft. Her skin was delicate and very fair. It was only her lack of vitality that made her seem listless, with pronounced dark circles.
Teacher Wang couldn’t help but say a few more words. “This Ms. Jian… did you know her before?”
Very few people specifically requested an Assistant Teacher, even though one-on-one was cheaper than with the Head Teacher.
Jian Wanji’s demeanor when she came looking that day was still vivid in Teacher Wang’s memory. She was slightly worried Mi Shanxin might have some conflict with her.
Mi Shanxin was so quiet, always wearing black or white clothes, like a QQ that wanted to sleep ten thousand times a day, slow in everything. This kind of personality wouldn’t go looking for trouble. Teacher Wang worried more that Mi Shanxin’s parent had some grudge against Jian Wanji, like unpaid debts or something.
Jian Wanji was the Boss of the largest Investment Company in the area; she shouldn’t have to personally come to collect debts.
Around the same age, the institution also had a Music Teacher—bright and lively in personality, who required absolutely no worrying. Mi Shanxin had this ability to make people instinctively worry. Teacher Wang asked another question: “Does she give you a hard time in private?”
“No, she treats me pretty well.” Mi Shanxin thought for a moment, then asked: “Teacher Wang, does the one-on-one have to be done at the institution?”
“Oh, so it’s Boss Jian who requested you teach at her Company, right?” Not knowing how Jian Wanji had embellished the story, Teacher Wang wasn’t surprised. “Just Clock In on the app first. Once you finish and Clock out again, it’ll be effective.”
Mi Shanxin hesitated slightly: “The time slot though…”
“Try to keep it during the day. You can record audio or take video for records.” Teacher Wang had also consulted the institution’s higher-ups. Industry overlap meant acquaintances were inevitable. She probably had heard something and warned Mi Shanxin: “Even if you’re both women, Shanxin, you still need to be cautious.”
“I understand.”
Mi Shanxin had just left the office when the driver’s saved number called her phone. An official-sounding female voice came through: “Miss Mi, I’m President Jian’s driver. The car is here.”
Mi Shanxin murmured an acknowledgment and left, not noticing herself passing by Zeng Baian.
Zeng Baian, there to pick up her child, watched the thin girl get into a familiar-looking car. Her daughter asked: “Mama, isn’t that the car Aunt Daji bought before? The one Papa really wanted, but you said he didn’t deserve to buy?”
Zeng Baian murmured vaguely. She wasn’t far; she could see the person driving wasn’t Jian Wanji.
Her friend was originally well-off. Small company Bosses had drivers, let alone the head of such a large Company. Watching the car drive past her eyes, she felt mostly worry.
She feared Jian Wanji would repeat past mistakes, meeting a troublesome lunatic. And she feared Mi Shanxin was too young, unable to resist such temptation—wanting to cling to power yet being hurt by Jian Wanji.
Jian Wanji never failed at anything she set out to do, ever since childhood. She was ruthless toward the task, not the person; that was why she could build a large Company. Once people climbed in status, having a bit of money and power, it was easy to breed ill intentions. Toying with an ordinary person would be effortless.
Even trusting Jian Wanji’s character, Zeng Baian couldn’t control the potential change in another person.
Under Jian Wanji’s charm offensive, few hearts remained unmoved. That detached, aloof posture of hers made people’s competitive desire surge, wanting to win her over.
Did a twenty-year-old girl have that kind of resolve?
“Are these all for me?” It was Mi Shanxin’s first time in such a spacious business van. She guessed this was Jian Wanji’s company car.
The woman driving nodded. “President Jian arranged everything.”
Mi Shanxin counted. The paper bags crammed into the back seat were mostly clothes. It seemed Jian Wanji intended to replace everything Mi Shanxin wore, from head to toe.
In the corner was a small bag containing a paper box.
Mi Shanxin opened it for a look. The thing inside resembled a Suction Cup, very strange.
Only after reading the manual did she realize what it was. She thought dully: It seems Jian Wanji won’t be helping her sleep today.
Was she too tired yesterday?
Mi Shanxin didn’t make a fuss. Very few things could shake her emotions.
She silently stuffed the small box into a larger bag and asked the driver: “Sis, will you also be the one taking me home from the hospital tonight?”
The driver confirmed, and Mi Shanxin didn’t send Jian Wanji any more messages.
That evening, she accompanied Wan Qingqing for dinner, then watched the News Simulcast with her. In between, she endured the old lady’s rambling about her homework as a daughter, saying things like “you must become the best Lawyer” and so on.
Much of the information was fragmented. Fortunately, Mi Shanxin had looked through the Photo Album and had some impression.
Jian Wanji’s Mother was a Broadcasting major. During university, she fell in love with a poor boy from out of town. After graduation, they stayed together against parental objections. Both had work units in Ning City, their relationship was good, their life stable.
Without that tragic, lamentable accident, Jian Wanji perhaps wouldn’t have become an orphan.
The night shift Caregiver wasn’t as chatty as the daytime one but would supplement some points when Mi Shanxin faltered.
Mi Shanxin played the Daughter and, using the end of the News Simulcast as an excuse to do Homework, took her leave.
The driver took her home and brought all those New Clothes into her house as well.
Her dinner engagement over, Jian Wanji checked the driver’s message saying Mi Shanxin had just been dropped off home.
She drove to Mi Shanxin’s house, her car still parked outside the alley entrance.
The winter night was cold. A passing dog-walker and their dog both exhaled white puffs of breath.
Jian Wanji wore a white Trench Coat, strikingly conspicuous in the dark night.
Mi Shanxin’s home was on the first floor. The hallway was dim, the walls mottled, covered in stamped advertisements and phone numbers.
She messaged Mi Shanxin. No reply. She knocked for a long time before finally hearing the sound of slippers.
Old houses had two doors. The Burglary-proof Door’s mesh screen was tattered. The inner wooden door opened. The girl in Pajamas looked up, meeting her gaze through the iron bars. “Why are you here?”
Jian Wanji looked very innocent, shrugging with a smile: “Didn’t your Additional Contract demand it? I can’t take unexcused leave from my sleep-assistance duties.”
Sui Yuqian had joked her fingers might catch fire and sent a box of Finger Cots to her office. Jian Wanji had never imagined these things came in so many varieties, much less thought of using them on Mi Shanxin. She’d tossed them in a cabinet, out of sight, out of mind.
Mi Shanxin wore Pajamas. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, and the Sleep Disorder patient was already preparing for bed.
Last night, Jian Wanji had only serviced the specific area requested. But she had seen where Mi Shanxin unconsciously touched herself. The Pajamas were too old; a button had fallen off and hadn’t been sewn back on, revealing the tips Mi Shanxin had pinched red herself. Jian Wanji averted her gaze. “Didn’t I buy you new Pajamas?”
Mi Shanxin still didn’t open the Burglary-proof Door. “They need washing. The home Washing Machine’s spin-dry function is broken. Hasn’t been fixed yet.”
Actually, the repairman had said she could just replace the entire machine. This Washing Machine had lasted nearly thirty years—a genuine miracle.
Mi Shanxin had money now but no mental energy to consider these things.
“No problem. I’ll have someone deliver a new one tomorrow and install it for you.”
Jian Wanji looked past her. On the floor were still the clothes she’d had her assistant buy from the boutique in Mi Shanxin’s size. The girl had clearly looked through them but stuffed them back in; the paper bags were bulging.
It was too quiet here. So quiet that Jian Wanji heard a strange buzzing sound.
She let out a puzzled noise. “Are there mosquitoes now? What’s that sound?”
“The toy you gave me is still…” Mi Shanxin gasped for breath, leaning against the door. “…inside my body.”
The hallway light was also broken. Mi Shanxin stood inside her home. The living room light was probably only three watts. In the dimness, Jian Wanji couldn’t see her expression clearly, only noticing her body seemed somewhat taut. Assuming she was just cold, Jian Wanji’s mind crackled and sparked. “What thing?”
Her smile froze instantly. “I gave you? A toy? I only gave you clothes.”
Mi Shanxin let out a muffled cry. Jian Wanji now knew what state she was in. She reached a hand through the broken mesh screen door and unlatched the Burglary-proof Door from the inside.
Her movements were swift, practically like a burglar. Holding Mi Shanxin up, she walked deeper inside, not forgetting to hook the door shut with her long leg.
The air held the scent of old, dusty books. The small room had the heater on, its yellow glow warm.
Jian Wanji tossed her onto the bed, too embarrassed to completely pull down Mi Shanxin’s loose sleep pants. Staring at the wire also trembling between the girl’s legs, her voice suppressed a fury whose source she didn’t even recognize. “Mi Shanxin, you didn’t even confirm with me what I’d sent, and you just opened it and started playing?”
“What if something you put inside your body turned out to be bad?”
She had completely shed her usual playful demeanor. Mi Shanxin collapsed on the bed, her collar gaping wide open, her barren chest slightly piled up from the angle, like a palmful of snow scooped up with great difficulty.
Jian Wanji reached out, pulling the blanket over her, covering the skin that troubled her heart.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Very…” Mi Shanxin frowned. Suddenly she let out another cry, burying her face into the blanket.
Jian Wanji: …
“I didn’t send you this. But I can guess who put it in.”
Jian Wanji had no time now to pursue Sui Yuqian’s “kindness.” She flipped the convulsing girl on the bed over. “Where is the packaging box? Where’s the manual?”
Mi Shanxin’s forehead was beaded with sweat—whether from pain or pleasure, she couldn’t tell. She pointed outside. “In the bag…”
By the time Jian Wanji found the item labeled “Shocking High Frequency” amidst a pile of cardboard boxes, Mi Shanxin on the bed was already crying from overstimulation, her pillow soaked with tears.
The girl, usually half a beat slow in everything, was now incredibly vivid. Like a paper deer in a hanging scroll of a vast snowy mountain suddenly coming to life.
Jian Wanji sinfully appreciated the sight for two seconds, then forced herself awake. She leaned down and asked Mi Shanxin: “Are you taking it out yourself, or should I?”
