Chapter 86: Sunbathing

“Also, if there’s any small decision to make, just listen to the girl next to Lu Nan. Don’t listen to what Lu Nan says.”

“If Lu Nan is picky and refuses this or that, just ignore her. Give her the food, and she’ll find a way to make Lu Nan eat it.”

Aunt Zheng nodded and asked curiously with a gossipy tone, “Erning, what’s the name of that young lady next to her? Is she Xiao Nan’s relative? She’s pretty good-looking for her age.”

Seeing how the two always stayed together—previously separated by two or three floors, but now squeezing two beds into a single room—it felt a bit odd, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

Were relatives in the city all like this?

Wasn’t it a bit too intimate?

“…” Li Erning kept her composure. “She’s not a relative. Lu Nan has no relatives. That’s her girlfriend, her future wife. Her name is Song Wenwei. You can call her Xiao Wei. She has a great temper. She’s Lu Nan’s colleague. For anything, discuss it with her. If you’re unsure, just tell me right away.”

These days, everyone had a diverse view on sexual orientation, and Aunt Zheng had overheard a thing or two. She nodded in sudden realization. So they were a couple—that explained sharing a room. Young lovers were always so clingy, just like her own two kids.

She said, “Got it. Have you packed your luggage?”

“No need. Just take good care of Lu Nan. I’m heading out now. Later, take Lu Nan outside to sunbathe. The sun isn’t too strong—perfect for a comfortable bask.”

Aunt Zheng nodded and watched her leave.

She returned to the ward and wheeled over the wheelchair from the corner. “The sun’s perfect outside, Xiao Nan. Let me push you out for some sun.”

“Aunt Zheng, it’s fine. I’ll push Lu Nan outside. I need to stretch my legs anyway.” Song Wenwei took the wheelchair and turned it toward Lu Nan’s bed.

Aunt Zheng thought about it—young couples needed time together. No need for her to compete over this. Better to let them go alone and avoid being the glaring third wheel.

“Ah… alright then. I’ll go buy some groceries first.” Aunt Zheng slung her canvas bag over her shoulder and asked Song Wenwei, “Xiao Wei, is there anything you don’t eat? I’ll cook and bring it over later. No need for you to buy meals.”

“I eat everything. No restrictions. Thank you, Aunt Zheng~” Song Wenwei gave her a sweet smile.

Aunt Zheng took an instant liking to her. No wonder Li Erning said she had a great temper and was easy to talk to—what a charmer.

Once she left, Lu Nan eyed her.

“Trouble. Aunt Zheng’s on your side now.” Lu Nan had overheard the whole conversation between Li Erning and Aunt Zheng. What was that about ignoring her and listening only to Song Wenwei?

She sighed dramatically. “Sigh, a crippled loner with useless legs—not even my last loyal minister stays faithful.”

“No, Your Majesty just needs to recognize true loyalty. Isn’t your loyal minister right here?” Song Wenwei fluffed her pillow.

“No, it’s mixing fish eyes with pearls that clouds judgment.”

Lu Nan sat up slightly, her mouth twitching involuntarily, brows furrowed in apparent pain. She weakly clutched her leg, her hand trembling.

“The anesthesia wore off this fast?” Song Wenwei hurriedly supported her. “Hang in there. If it’s too much, we won’t go sunbathing.”

“Support me a bit.” Lu Nan leaned on her hand, arched a brow, pressed down her upturned lips, and sighed. “Now I’m truly crippled.”

Song Wenwei caught the fleeting expression and didn’t let go of her hand. She realized with a start, “You’re faking it?!”

“Busted.” Lu Nan’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. Give it time, and you’ll hear me crying for real.”

“You’re getting worse—actually playing little tricks now.”

Truth be told, Song Wenwei ate this up. Though she teased on the surface, her heart bloomed with joy.

“I’ve always been like this. You just didn’t know.” Lu Nan turned to look at her. “What, don’t you like my little schemes?”

“I love it. Love it to death.” Song Wenwei sighed as if in lament. “Who’d have thought the web’s ice-cold, poker-faced Lu Nan is actually a repressed tease.”

Lu Nan: “…”

Enough!

The warm sun bathed the earth, awakening all things. Song Wenwei pushed the wheelchair, taking Lu Nan outside to sunbathe.

Beyond the building lay a large open space, perfect for catching the sun, with a row of old, leafy trees along the edge.

Song Wenwei walked slowly. The morning breeze carried a gentle warmth laced with the scent of fresh grass. Lu Nan’s hair was half-tied, stray strands framing her face. The braid from last night had half come undone, mixing messily with the rest—looking a bit sloppy.

In the center of the open space was a small fountain pool with circulating water and darting goldfish, giving it a European flair.

She positioned the wheelchair by the pool, pleased with her choice. “This spot’s great. We’ll sunbathe here—trees and water nearby.”

“No way, no way. I don’t want to bake under the sun like a black ghost. Let’s go to the shade over there for some breeze.” Lu Nan squinted; the sunlight outside was blinding.

“This is perfect. The doctor said sunbathing is good for you.”

“The doctor never said that,” Lu Nan stated firmly.

Song Wenwei insisted earnestly, “I remember he did. He even reminded me.”

“You misheard.”

“Impossible.”

Lu Nan frowned. “You definitely misheard. It’s too sunny here.”

“Since when do you care about that?”

Lu Nan replied matter-of-factly, “It hurts my eyes. What wouldn’t I care about?”

“Your face! You said you’d tan like a black ghost—nope.” Song Wenwei pushed the wheelchair toward the shade, her tone seriously earnest. “You can’t tan. I love your face the most. If it tans, I won’t like it anymore.”

“You’re too superficial…”

See? Lu Nan was right to care. With so many beauties in entertainment, slack off and her girlfriend would run—where to cry then?

Of course, she couldn’t say that aloud.

They chatted idly like that.

“Li Erning’s the ‘older sister’ you listed in high school, right?” Song Wenwei knew Lu Nan had no blood sister. She’d run from the orphanage, finished nine years of compulsory education, then clawed into a top high school on her own.

These years, Li Erning had guided her. Song Wenwei also knew Li Erning was a shareholder and co-founder of Lu Nan’s company.

“Yeah, she’s my real sister—no blood tie, but some bonds can’t be erased. Song Wenwei, I don’t know if I should tell you about my past. You want me to show positive value, but that’s all negative…”

“It’s fine. Everyone has secrets. Don’t want to say? Don’t. I’m not digging.”

Song Wenwei saw it was about time. “Let’s head back up.”

“Okay.”

She pushed the wheelchair to the elevator, back to the ward, passing busy nurses along the way.

The four nurses sorted items on desks or typed intently.

The door handle clicked clearly. A nearby nurse paused, confirmed no one was there, and they huddled to whisper.

“OMG, they really are a couple!!”

“Obviously. Our hospital’s under Lu Nan’s company. What a coincidence—she saved her and sprained her leg. Probably too eager, like this morning: care turns to chaos, twist.”

“Makes sense. No wonder Sister Li put them together to recover. Song Wenwei had other hospitals, but those eyes—pulling taffy, right?”

“Saw it, saw it—both eyes confirmed.”

“Web rumors aren’t baseless. Them together? My eyes are cleansed.”

“Shippers are blessed.”

A passing doctor overheard, clipboard in hand. “You lot, no posting this online. Gossip here, fine. Get caught? You’ll cry.”

“Got it, Director.”

—

“President Li, hello. Let me take you in.”

The suited man extended a hand, bowed politely, and led her to the office.

“President Xia’s just ahead.”

His voice came before he appeared.

“You’re here.” President Xia smoothed his slicked-back hair, leaned against the wall, then leaned in close as footsteps neared.

Li Erning halted, silently stepped left to keep distance.

“Yo, Li Erning. Rare guest, President Li. What brings you?”

Li Erning eyed his smooth fabric, precise stitching—limited edition from some brand this season. Bold to act so brazen outside home.

“Talk about my artist Lu Nan’s next film, Reverse Push.”

“You should know the producer’s been nabbed. Who’s next?”

President Xia dropped the playboy act, face serious. “What? Which producer?”

How did he know nothing? His own company’s producer in trouble, and she comes asking.

“Don’t play dumb. Your President Liu was arrested yesterday afternoon. Criminal stuff—I doubt no hand from you. Want jail time? Don’t drag everyone down.”

President Xia countered, “And you? How many dirty deeds have you done?”

Li Erning scoffed. “Don’t pin hats. Who’s guilty knows. Want our company taking your fall? Dream on. Overreach gets severed.”

“Take the fall?” President Xia leaned on the desk. “When I chased you, how many pots did you dump on me? I never complained. Now you can’t take one?”

“Grow up, President Xia. Kid talk. My pot or your dad’s? Ask him. Cooperation’s no game—get serious, drop it.”

“Oh, and chasing differs from harassment.” Li Erning smirked provocatively, enunciating, “Note for next time.”

“I look forward to our next collab, President Xia. Hope no mishaps—like jail and bail.”

Crash—the desk files swept clean. The man turned away, back hunched, no prior swagger.

Li Erning watched coldly, then strode out. Heels clicked on polished floors as her phone pinged.

[Producer 2: Suggest next step. Film’s DOA—no shooting. Half crew in, what’s left? Birdshot.]

Li Erning’s heart sank. As expected—money-laundering crew? Better not join and die clueless.

She glanced back at the office. Wasted time.

At least no work meant Lu Nan could rest, heal her leg without group worries.

Even empty-handed, not a total loss.

[Xia’s Assistant: Sorry, President Li. President Xia spoke to me. Breach fee incoming to your card.]

[: President Xia asked me to relay: “Looking forward to next meet. Won’t lose so badly next time.”]

Li Erning had no time for banter, no interest in “next.” She replied a curt OK emoji.

Xia Corporation’s branch did entertainment; parent company rich—sunk investments? Pocket change.

She stopped at the elevator. Employees bustled—not few—chatter, laughs… faint sobs?

Crying? Who?

Li Erning scanned. Elevator far from offices—she couldn’t hear that.

Too idle, fretting over rivals’ staff.

The sobs grew: “Wahhh…”

Elevator stuck at four floors.

Next to the elevator was the safety exit. Li Erning reached into her bag, unfastened the clasp, and her hand touched a square object.

She pushed open the door to the safety exit. The sound from below the stairs grew even clearer—she could distinctly hear it was a woman’s voice, sobbing softly.

The crying was tender. Li Erning stepped onto the first stair, and the sound of her footsteps echoed through the stairwell. The person instantly clamped her mouth shut, pretending she was just squatting there doing nothing, which only made her guilt more obvious.

The high heels drew gradually closer and finally stopped beside her. Li Erning held out the item in her hand.

“Wipe it off,” she said.

At those words, the woman looked up. The first thing she saw was the unopened pack of tissues and that pair of hands with prominent knuckles. The grievances she had suppressed reignited from this stranger’s sudden kindness.

Sobbing, she took the tissues, wiped away her tears, and said, “Thank you.”

By the time she cleared the tears blurring her vision and wanted to get a good look at the kind person in the coat standing before her, that person had already quietly slipped away.

Didn’t high heels make noise? How had she not heard them?

Gazing at the slightly ajar door, the woman clutched the tissues in her hand.