Captivating Beauty 86p2

Chapter 86 p2

After having lunch with Little Crescent Moon, Shen Shu went to the kitchen to cut some fruit, and Xu Jinnan stayed with the little girl, her thoughts drifting to the notebook she had found, the original Xu Jinnan’s words of hatred and her hopes for her replacement, her desire for revenge against the Xu family.

With things becoming clearer now, Xu Jinnan’s anxiety had lessened, Little Crescent Moon’s presence a calming influence.

“Auntie Nannan, your nails are so pretty!” Little Crescent Moon said, touching Xu Jinnan’s hand. “Can I have pretty nails too?”

“Of course,” Xu Jinnan replied, nodding. “I’ll bring some next time.” She remembered seeing peel-off nail polish for children, a safe alternative to regular polish.

“Yay!” Little Crescent Moon exclaimed, her fingers tracing the diamonds on Xu Jinnan’s nails, her eyes filled with envy.

After a while, she leaned closer to Xu Jinnan, her voice soft. “Auntie Nannan, can I have a little ice cream?”

Xu Jinnan hesitated. It wasn’t exactly ice cream weather, but the room was warm.

“Do they have any here?”

Little Crescent Moon’s eyes lit up. “Yes! I saw the chef bring some earlier!”

Xu Jinnan chuckled, gently pinching her nose. “You little sweet tooth.”

She went to ask the chef, who confirmed they had some, vanilla flavor.

Just then, Shen Shu emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate of oranges, and seeing the ice cream in Xu Jinnan’s hand, she frowned. “Ice cream? In this weather?”

“It’s for Little Crescent Moon,” Xu Jinnan explained, hearing the disapproval in Shen Shu’s voice.

Shen Shu: “?” You’re giving a child ice cream?

“I already promised her. She’ll be disappointed if I don’t,” Xu Jinnan said.

Shen Shu looked at her. “You’re spoiling her. If she gets a stomachache, she’ll be the one suffering.”

“…” Xu Jinnan had a point. Little Crescent Moon’s foot was still injured. “I’ll just give her a little taste. I’ll eat the rest,” she said.

“And what about your stomach?” Shen Shu asked, glancing at her.

She didn’t say anything more, but Xu Jinnan sensed a hint of something else in her tone.

Back in Little Crescent Moon’s room, her eyes lit up at the sight of the ice cream, her gaze fixed on it longingly.

Xu Jinnan told her eating ice cream now could give her a stomachache.

Little Crescent Moon nodded, her thumb and forefinger pressed together. “Just a little,” she whispered.

She was surprisingly obedient.

After she had a few bites, Xu Jinnan ate the rest, then, noticing Shen Shu looking at her, went to help her with the dishes.

The orphanage now had two guest rooms, and since Xu Jinnan and Shen Shu were staying for two nights, the director had had them prepared with fresh linens.

Later that evening, after putting Little Crescent Moon to bed, the director returned and asked to speak to Xu Jinnan privately.

Shen Shu went to her room alone.

The guest room was on the second floor, the window overlooking the small playground in the backyard.

The window was slightly ajar, letting in a cool breeze that sent shivers down Shen Shu’s spine.

She closed the window and looked out at the playground below.

The main lights were off, only a single dim lamp illuminating the path beside the play area, casting long, eerie shadows.

The cheerful playground now had a strangely ominous atmosphere, a subtle unease that clung to the air.

Shen Shu’s gaze lingered on the swing set, a sudden chill running down her spine.

She felt a phantom pain, a tightening in her chest, her heart pounding.

She instinctively took a step back, then felt two arms wrap around her waist…

“What are you looking at?” Xu Jinnan whispered in her ear, her arms circling Shen Shu’s waist, her body warm against Shen Shu’s back, the coolness of the night air clinging to her clothes, yet her presence strangely comforting.

She had just returned from talking to the director, her mind still on their conversation.

She glanced at the swing set, the image of a small girl flashing through her mind, then her attention returned to Shen Shu.

“Nothing,” Shen Shu replied, shaking her head.

.

But that night, she was plagued by nightmares, falling from great heights, drowning in dark water, the pain and the suffocating terror alternating, waking her three times, leaving her exhausted and drained the next morning, her mind wandering even as she played with Little Crescent Moon.

The afternoon sky was overcast, the sun appearing and disappearing intermittently, like a flickering candle.

Xu Jinnan, noticing Shen Shu’s pale face and listless demeanor, touched her forehead, but she didn’t seem feverish. She simply wasn’t herself.

She asked a doctor, who said it was probably just fatigue.

Xu Jinnan, realizing Shen Shu had been staying up late with her, sharing her sleepless nights, led her to the guest room to rest.

She sat beside Shen Shu on the bed, taking her hand.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here,” she said softly.

Shen Shu, her emotions a tangled mess, couldn’t even speak, a strange anxiety gripping her, a feeling of something dark and powerful stirring within her, threatening to break free.

It was a terrifying feeling.

She tightened her grip on Xu Jinnan’s hand, as if the physical contact could somehow anchor her, dispel the growing panic.

But her sleep was still restless, her dreams fragmented and disturbing.

.

Towards evening, Xu Jinnan, seeing Shen Shu’s pale face and trembling body, covered in cold sweat, was worried she was getting sick and was about to go find a doctor when Shen Shu’s hand tightened around hers, her grip surprisingly strong.

She had initially thought Shen Shu was waking up, then realized she was having a nightmare.

Xu Jinnan’s attempts to soothe her were initially effective, then useless as Shen Shu’s grip tightened, her fingers digging into Xu Jinnan’s skin, like someone clinging to a lifeline.

Shen Shu clung to the rusty metal doorframe, the cold, rough surface digging into her palms, her cries echoing in the empty hallway, as a large hand grabbed her arm, lifting her off the ground.

Her mouth was covered, her voice muffled.

As she was carried away, she saw a woman standing in the doorway, her face blurry, her voice echoing in Shen Shu’s mind. “Nannan, be a good girl and go with them. Mommy is doing this for your own good.” She couldn’t hear anything else, her mind clouded, her head spinning, the sound of a child’s cries echoing in the distance, but she couldn’t open her eyes.

She heard the sharp crack of a cane against flesh, the cries turning into whimpers.

She curled up, the cold wind biting at her skin, snowflakes melting on her face.

She shivered, her body numb with cold, afraid to make a sound.

Then, the scene shifted.

She was back in the courtyard, the familiar square space with its high walls, raindrops falling steadily, the rhythmic drumming echoing in her ears. She turned to see a large, dark water tank, her own reflection staring back at her from the surface of the water.

Herself, as a child.

A face she almost couldn’t remember.

A hand grabbed her neck, a voice whispering in her ear, “You little bitch, still haven’t learned your lesson? I’ll teach you how to behave!”

She stared at the water, her eyes wide with terror, about to see the person behind her, when she was suddenly pushed into the tank, the cold water engulfing her.

A wave of panic, the familiar feeling of suffocating, the heavyset figure, the rough hand on her neck, the repulsive scent…

She screamed, struggling in the water, knowing she was dreaming, but unable to wake up.

Then, she was out of the water, lying on the ground in the courtyard, the same heavyset woman standing over her, her fists raining down on her, her heeled shoes kicking her stomach.

She could only see the swing set swaying back and forth in the background…

The pain was unbearable, her entire body aching.

“Shu Shu!”

She woke up with a gasp, her heart pounding, her eyes filled with tears, her body drenched in sweat.

Xu Jinnan bent down, gently wiping away her tears, her hands cupping Shen Shu’s face. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It was just a dream. Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, her voice soothing.

Shen Shu’s arms wrapped around Xu Jinnan’s neck, pulling her closer.

“Xu Jinnan, I dreamed…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Xu Jinnan didn’t rush her, her hand gently stroking Shen Shu’s hair. “It’s okay, I’m here. It doesn’t matter what you dreamed about.”

Shen Shu swallowed, her throat dry. “I dreamed about my mother,” she whispered.

Xu Jinnan paused, then realized she meant her biological mother, the one she barely remembered.

“Mm,” she murmured. “What happened?”

Shen Shu was silent for a moment, her initial panic subsiding, but her voice was still muffled against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder. “She abandoned me,” she whispered, biting her lip. “It felt so real. Xu Jinnan, I don’t know…” While she couldn’t see her mother’s face, the feeling had been vivid, visceral.

She could even picture the metal gate, the chipped paint in the corner.

But she wasn’t sure if it was a dream, or a memory.

If it was real… she couldn’t bear the thought of being abandoned by her own mother.

Xu Jinnan nuzzled her face against Shen Shu’s hair. “What else did you dream about?” she asked softly.

After a long silence, Shen Shu whispered, “A courtyard… a traditional courtyard… and that person…” She frowned, as if the memory was painful.

Sensing her reluctance, Xu Jinnan said, “Don’t think about it. It was just a dream. It’s not real, Shu Shu. It’s okay…”

Shen Shu pulled away from her embrace, her eyes still glistening with tears. Xu Jinnan bent down and gently kissed her dry lips. “Have some water,” she murmured, then asked if she was hungry.

Shen Shu shook her head. She had no appetite.

In fact, she felt strangely detached, her emotions beyond her control, her mind replaying the dream despite her attempts to suppress it.

Xu Jinnan stayed with her.

Around 8 or 9 p.m., Lin Wei knocked on the door, Little Crescent Moon in her arms, bringing them dinner.

Shen Shu sat on the bed, bending down as Little Crescent Moon reached out to touch her cheek. “Don’t worry, Auntie Shen Shu will be fine soon,” she said, her voice sweet and comforting.

Shen Shu pulled her onto her lap. “You’re the best, Little Crescent Moon,” she said, then glanced at the food. “You should eat your dinner.”

“I’ll eat later,” Xu Jinnan replied.

Shen Shu’s demeanor was strange, a quiet anxiety clinging to her, reminding Xu Jinnan of her own initial days in this world, Shen Shu’s vulnerability a constant presence.

Shen Shu didn’t reply, her attention focused on Little Crescent Moon.

Her own mood had darkened, a mixture of guilt and sadness weighing on her. She had been so consumed by her own anxieties, her own nightmares, that she hadn’t even considered whether Xu Jinnan had eaten. Even Lin Wei had been more thoughtful.

When you were feeling down, everything seemed wrong.

After Lin Wei and Little Crescent Moon left, Xu Jinnan, seeing Shen Shu’s listless demeanor, barely touched her own dinner.

After clearing the table, she went to bed.

Shen Shu, lying on her side, her back to Xu Jinnan, her eyes still open, felt Xu Jinnan’s arms wrap around her waist, her warm breath on her neck.

Xu Jinnan didn’t speak, simply holding her close.

After a few minutes, Shen Shu turned over, snuggling into Xu Jinnan’s embrace, her voice a soft murmur against her chest. “Nannan…”

“I’m here,” Xu Jinnan whispered, holding her tighter as Shen Shu’s arm tightened around her waist.

Shen Shu drifted off to sleep, her breathing even, but Xu Jinnan couldn’t sleep, her mind racing, the hours passing slowly. She checked her phone; it was past midnight.

November 21st, Friday.

Shen Shu’s birthday.

She turned her head, her lips brushing against Shen Shu’s forehead. “Happy birthday, wifey,” she whispered.

–

The next morning, as planned, they were returning to North City, then going to the company retreat, which would also serve as Shen Shu’s birthday celebration.

Tong Jia and Cai Ying had both sent birthday messages early that morning, their timing perfectly synchronized.

Despite her attempts to appear normal, Shen Shu’s mood was still subdued, her lack of appetite evident as she barely touched her breakfast.

After saying goodbye to Little Crescent Moon, they left the orphanage.

During the drive back, Xu Jinnan, worried Shen Shu might get hungry, had packed some pastries and a bottle of grape juice.

“Nannan.”

Xu Jinnan glanced at her. “Yes?”

Shen Shu’s voice was low, the usual coldness softened slightly.

“I’m not feeling well. I don’t think I can go to the company retreat today,” she said. They had planned this a week ago.

But she truly wasn’t feeling up to it, especially since it was Xu Jinnan’s company event.

Xu Jinnan slowed down as they approached a red light. “Okay, we’ll go home then,” she said.

“You go. I can go home by myself.”

“No way,” Xu Jinnan said firmly. “Leave you alone? What are you thinking?” She paused. “They know it’s your birthday. They won’t mind. I’ll give them a bonus later. They’ll probably be glad I’m not there.”

“I’m sorry,” Shen Shu said, her voice soft. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Xu Jinnan, surprised, pulled over to the side of the road and turned to Shen Shu, her voice gentle and serious. “You don’t have to apologize. Your happiness is more important than anything else. Do you understand?”

Shen Shu didn’t reply, and Xu Jinnan asked, “Is it because your heat is coming soon?” Besides the physical symptoms, many Omegas also experienced mood swings before and during their heat cycles.

Shen Shu’s cycles were irregular, and this one had been delayed.

Shen Shu: “…”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Your period is also late this month,” Xu Jinnan commented.

Shen Shu: “…”

“Yes,” she murmured.

Everything seemed to be out of sync.

She had never felt like this before, a listlessness, a heaviness in her chest, like a weight pressing down on her, a feeling of something just beyond her grasp, a memory struggling to surface, yet also a resistance, a fear of what it might reveal.

The push and pull of her own mind was a torment.

Without the pressure of the company retreat, they could relax and take their time.

They stopped at a rest stop, and Xu Jinnan ordered some porridge, which they shared, neither of them having much of an appetite.

As they ate in silence, Xu Jinnan’s gaze swept over the parking lot, lingering on a gray Volkswagen. The sun was reflecting off the windshield, making it difficult to see if anyone was inside.

She thought she had seen the same car earlier, perhaps because it was such an ordinary, unremarkable vehicle.

Having witnessed the Xu family’s and Yin Xue’s schemes, she was always vigilant now, and instead of starting the car immediately, she waited for a few minutes.

Shen Shu, sensing her hesitation, offered to drive.

Xu Jinnan, her thoughts returning to the present, smiled faintly as Shen Shu opened a bottle of juice. “Shu Shu, I don’t want to die young,” she said, her tone playful.

Seeing her smile, Xu Jinnan’s own mood lifted slightly.

“Want some?” Shen Shu asked, offering her the juice.

Shen Shu shook her head, opening a bottle of water, a few drops splashing onto her jeans.

Xu Jinnan didn’t insist.

Before driving off, she deliberately drove past the gray Volkswagen. It was empty, and she relaxed slightly.