Captivating Beauty 87

Chapter 87

Xu Jinnan sat in the living room downstairs for a while, listening to Shen Guotao’s thinly veiled request for another investment.

She didn’t refuse outright, simply saying she would discuss it with Shen Shu.

If Shen Shu agreed, they would draw up a contract, like last time.

“Of course, of course,” Shen Guotao said readily. “Don’t worry, this time it was a genuine oversight. Nannan, we’re both businesspeople; you understand these things. There are always ups and downs, times when you need a little help. Once this is over…”

Xu Jinnan tuned him out. He was a mediocre businessman, his vision even more shortsighted than Wei Wuqing’s, and he lacked her charisma and social skills.

It was a wonder the Shen family hadn’t gone bankrupt yet, considering their mismanagement. But they had a solid foundation, built by the previous generation, which had allowed them to survive this long.

However, in Xu Jinnan’s opinion, their downfall was inevitable.

She glanced towards the staircase; Shen Shu hadn’t come down yet. Unable to bear Shen Guotao’s incessant chatter any longer, she stood up.

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

“Would you mind if I took a look around?”

He offered to give her a tour, but she declined. She simply wanted to escape his presence, and she was also curious about Shen Shu’s childhood home.

The living room was easily surveyed, the decor mostly new.

She walked through a small side room, the stained-glass windows, a nod to old Shanghai, casting colorful patterns on the wooden floor.

She followed the rainbow of light, as if tracing Shen Shu’s footsteps, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Are you… Miss Xu?” a voice asked.

She looked up to see a middle-aged woman with a kind face and a warm smile, her cheeks dimpling slightly.

Xu Jinnan didn’t recognize her, and Shen Shu had never mentioned her… but then again, Shen Shu rarely talked about her childhood.

Perhaps, like Xu Jinnan herself, she preferred not to dwell on unpleasant memories.

“I am. And you are…?”

“I’m the housekeeper. I used to take care of the old madam and… Little Miss,” the woman replied.

From their brief conversation, Xu Jinnan learned that the housekeeper, Mrs. Liu, had worked for the Shen family for many years, and after Shen Shu’s grandmother passed away, Wei Wuqing had kept her on to maintain the house.

That explains why it’s so clean, Xu Jinnan thought.

The side room led to the backyard, and Xu Jinnan followed Mrs. Liu outside. Shen Shu had mentioned the garden, filled with flowers and plants.

Shen Shu had a few succulents and a pothos on her balcony, the only flowering plant the rosebush Xu Jinnan had brought home from the office.

“My grandmother and I don’t have green thumbs. We can only manage these easy-to-care-for plants,” she had said, then, when Xu Jinnan had commented on how beautiful flowers were, she had replied, “But they’re so difficult to keep alive.”

“That’s what the old madam always said,” Mrs. Liu said, smiling, after hearing Xu Jinnan’s comment about the flowers. “She was a very independent woman. She always said that weakness only invites trouble. Perhaps that’s why Little Miss has such a strong personality.”

“She does,” Xu Jinnan agreed.

Shen Shu could be incredibly stubborn, especially when she had first met her, her demeanor cold and aloof, like a stone wall, yet with a hidden softness, a kindness that Xu Jinnan had gradually come to appreciate.

“The old madam was the same. She always emphasized independence, but she was also fiercely protective of Little Miss, doting on her like a precious treasure,” Mrs. Liu continued.

Xu Jinnan could imagine that. Shen Shu’s grandmother, the woman she had adored, must have been a wonderful person.

“It’s a shame I never met her,” she said.

“There aren’t any photos of her left in the house,” Mrs. Liu replied.

Xu Jinnan looked at the flowers swaying gently in the breeze, their delicate petals like outstretched hands, and suddenly asked, “Do you have any photos of Shu Shu from when she was little?”

“I do, actually,” Mrs. Liu replied without hesitation. “I kept some of them. They were going to be thrown away, but I couldn’t bear to part with them. And Miss Shen has a few as well,” she added, referring to Wei Wuqing.

Xu Jinnan followed her to a small, wooden shed in the backyard, the space divided into two sections, furnished with chairs and bookshelves.

“I keep all the old things here, the things Miss Shen didn’t want. I couldn’t bear to throw them away,” Mrs. Liu explained.

Xu Jinnan smiled faintly and pulled back the curtain covering the shelves, revealing a collection of old photos and other items. Her gaze immediately fell on a framed photo of a little girl, about four or five years old, wearing a pink sweater.

Her heart lurched, the image of the little girl she had seen in her dream, the one Xu Lian had been abusing, suddenly clear…

“Miss Xu?”

Xu Jinnan couldn’t speak, her body frozen, as if she had been struck, a wave of emotion, a mixture of pain and recognition, washing over her.

Her eyes reddened, and she turned and hurried back towards the house, then, hearing Wei Wuqing’s voice from the living room, “Shu Shu, what’s wrong? You look…” she stopped at the doorway.

Just then, Shen Shu emerged from the stairwell, her face pale and her steps hurried, almost a run, then, seeing Xu Jinnan, she stumbled, her legs giving way as she fell.

Xu Jinnan’s heart leaped into her throat, and she rushed forward, catching Shen Shu just as she fell, one knee hitting the floor.

She exhaled, relieved, then, feeling Shen Shu trembling in her arms, looked at her, her voice filled with concern. “Are you hurt?”

Then, she saw the tears welling up in Shen Shu’s eyes, not tears of sadness, but something else, something that made Xu Jinnan’s heart ache.

She looked down and saw Shen Shu’s hand, clenched tightly around a small, rectangular object on a red string, a sliver of metal visible between her fingers.

Two characters were engraved on it: X4.

–

Four people were in the living room.

Encouraged by Xu Jinnan’s promise of further investment, Wei Wuqing had been eager to share everything she knew about Shen Shu’s arrival at the Shen residence. “I remember it was a weekend. Your grandmother brought you home, and you looked like you had crawled out of a ditch, covered in mud and blood… Your face was the only clean part…”

There had been blood on her neck, her coat caked with mud and rain, the original color indistinguishable.

But the old madam hadn’t flinched, carrying her into the living room and sitting down with her, patiently trying to comfort her, the little girl flinching at every sound, every movement.

It had taken a long time for her to calm down, and the old madam had personally bathed her, discovering a cut on her head, the blood having trickled down her neck and into her clothes.

Her small body had been covered in bruises, the marks of kicks, pinches, and whippings.

After her bath, her hair still damp, she had hidden behind the curtains, trembling like a stray kitten.

Then, she had developed a fever, her body burning up, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness.

“I don’t know if it was the fever, or if you simply didn’t remember, but you wouldn’t answer any of our questions. The only thing we found was that name tag,” Wei Wuqing said, taking a sip of water. “We assumed the ‘X’ was the initial of your name, and your grandmother, whose last name was Xie, said it was fate, so she kept you.”

Xu Jinnan looked at Shen Shu, whose face was pale, her lips bloodless, then stood up and walked towards her as she turned and silently left the room.

“Let’s go,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice soft, yet the words carried a weight that made her heart ache.

She wanted to reach out, to hold Shen Shu, to offer some comfort, but she hesitated, then followed her out of the house.

In the courtyard, she gently pulled Shen Shu into a hug, the warmth of their bodies a stark reminder of the shared trauma, the echoes of the past.

Neither of them spoke, the embrace brief and hesitant, Shen Shu’s body stiff and unyielding.

Her eyes were closed, her mind reeling, her head throbbing.

“My head hurts,” she murmured.

They got into the car and drove back to Xingcheng International in silence.

Even Xu Jinnan, usually so eloquent and quick-witted, was speechless now, her mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions, unable to articulate the feelings swirling within her.

She didn’t even dare think about it, afraid of losing control, her focus on driving.

She knew Shen Shu’s mind must be in turmoil as well.

She hadn’t expected Shen Shu to be the little girl from her dream, the one Xu Lian had abused.

She hadn’t expected Shen Shu to be X4, the child with the high differentiation probability, the one chosen as a potential mate for the original Xu Jinnan.

She didn’t know how Shen Shu had escaped the Xu family’s clutches. According to Wei Wuqing, the old madam had found her, or perhaps rescued her.

And she hadn’t realized that Shen Shu and the original Xu Jinnan had eventually… met again, their fates intertwined in this strange, twisted way.

–

They arrived at Xingcheng International, and as they stepped out of the elevator, Xu Jinnan instinctively reached for Shen Shu’s hand, a familiar gesture.

But Shen Shu’s hand flinched, pulling away.

Xu Jinnan froze, her hand hovering in midair.

Shen Shu’s mind was racing, her earlier composure shattered by the sudden realization of her own reaction, her face burning beneath the mask, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Xu Jinnan couldn’t describe the feeling, the sharp pang of pain and disappointment, the heavy ache in her chest.

She knew Shen Shu was trying to hold back, and she suppressed her own emotions, gently squeezing Shen Shu’s hand, then pulling her into a brief hug. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

They entered the apartment, the silence heavy and oppressive.

It was early evening, the sun already starting to set, the cool autumn air chilling the apartment.

“Are you hungry? Want something to eat?” Xu Jinnan asked. Neither of them had eaten lunch, having only shared a bottle of water in the car.

Shen Shu shook her head.

She couldn’t eat.

Xu Jinnan filled the kettle and turned it on, the sound of the bubbling water a strangely comforting presence in the quiet apartment.

“It wasn’t because of you,” Shen Shu said softly, breaking the silence.

Xu Jinnan turned to her, understanding she was referring to her reaction in the elevator.

“I know,” she said gently.

Shen Shu looked down, her mind reeling from the memories that had resurfaced upon seeing the name tag, the years of abuse she had endured before her grandmother had found her, each memory a fresh wound.

She didn’t want to remember, but the memories, like ink drops in water, spread uncontrollably, staining everything.

She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t, a heavy weight pressing down on her, suffocating her.

She needed time.

“I understand,” Xu Jinnan said softly.

“I need some time alone,” Shen Shu said, her voice barely a whisper, her gaze averted.

Xu Jinnan’s eyes, however, remained fixed on her. “Okay,” she replied.

–

The living room lights remained off, an unusual occurrence when they were both home.

At 9 p.m., Xu Jinnan, feeling a chill, stood up from the balcony, where she had been sitting, and glanced at Shen Shu’s closed bedroom door.

She had finally managed to quiet her mind, and Shen Shu also needed time to process everything.

She went to her room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Her phone was vibrating insistently on the bed, the screen lit up with notifications – messages, missed calls.

A few were from Lu Yun.

The name alone was enough to evoke a sense of disgust, a visceral reminder of the Xu family’s toxicity.

Then, she remembered the little girl in her dream, the one Xu Lian had abused, and her resolve to destroy the Xu family hardened, her desire for revenge now tinged with a chilling ruthlessness.

Simply sending them to prison wasn’t enough.

She sat down on the bed and looked at her phone, ignoring the messages, her gaze falling on a notification from Cai Ying in the group chat.

[@Xu Jinnan Show us your gift!]

She had almost forgotten.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over her, a heavy ache in her chest.

She took a small, square box wrapped in dark green velvet from her pocket…

A birthday gift?

But she hadn’t even given it to Shen Shu yet.