~~~
The current situation was hard to explain, leaving Wen Wanyuan speechless. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to Ning Jiuwei on WeChat to clarify things.
Su Jinglan’s reaction was far calmer than Wen Wanyuan’s. She kept a composed expression, her gentle eyes fixed on Ning Jiuwei as she suggested, “We haven’t ordered yet. Why don’t you join us for dinner?”
“Maybe next time,” Ning Jiuwei declined. “Shi Wanxu and I have some things to discuss.”
The two tables were separated only by a narrow aisle, so anything said on either side could be overheard with a little attention. Ning Jiuwei was clearly not interested in sharing a table with them.
Her phone buzzed once, and Ning Jiuwei glanced at Wen Wanyuan from the corner of her eye.
Wen Wanyuan’s message read: It was Su Jinglan who invited me to dinner. I didn’t want to come, but considering your current relationship with her, I wanted to find out what she planned to say.
Wen Wanyuan really had no talent for lying—even in a text message, Ning Jiuwei could spot the truth from the fiction.
She dissected the half-true, half-false words sentence by sentence, pinpointing exactly where the lie was.
The first half was true, but the second half was false. Wen Wanyuan wouldn’t have shown up unless she already knew what was going to be said.
Ning Jiuwei didn’t call her out on it. She replied coldly with a single character: Mm.
The curt response left Wen Wanyuan on edge, her heart pounding. She didn’t dare speak to Su Jinglan, or even make eye contact with her, terrified that someone might misinterpret it as secret signaling.
The server poured two cups of chrysanthemum tea, a soothing brew to clear heat and calm the body. Ning Jiuwei said “Thank you” and picked up the pristine white bone china cup, chatting with Shi Wanxu about the lecture they’d attended. The professional terms and unfamiliar English phrases sounded like gibberish to Wen Wanyuan— she recognized the individual words when broken down, but together in context, they were incomprehensible. Shi Wanxu, sitting across from Ning Jiuwei, kept up effortlessly, and the two women were deep in animated conversation.
No wonder she hadn’t wanted to sit with them; this wasn’t talk for ordinary ears. Wen Wanyuan’s eyes dimmed, and she stole occasional glances at Ning Jiuwei, looking utterly aggrieved.
Su Jinglan’s grasp of psychology wasn’t as deep as Ning Jiuwei’s, but she’d taken related courses in school. Plus, having noticed Ning Jiuwei’s interest in the subject, she’d recently read some books and could follow parts of it.
The pair was discussing trace decay and interference—experiments on short-term memory.
“Have you thought about grad school?” Shi Wanxu finally said something Wen Wanyuan could understand. Her mild tone carried the scholarly air of a mentor offering sage advice. “Apply to Jiangji University and get a degree in the field.”
“I don’t have that much time to prepare,” Ning Jiuwei replied. She knew her own path in life and wouldn’t squander time on a passing whim. “It’s enough if I can drop into classes now and then.”
Shi Wanxu nodded with a smile, supportive no matter what Ning Jiuwei decided.
They dove back into esoteric professional theories that no one else could follow. Ning Jiuwei multitasked seamlessly, ordering dishes on her phone before handing it over to Shi Wanxu without a second thought. “Wanxu, take a look—anything else we should add?”
“This is fine,” Shi Wanxu said, handing the phone back.
Su Jinglan gripped her teacup tighter, silently steadying her breathing.
Wen Wanyuan kept her head down, staring at her own phone and avoiding conversation with Su Jinglan. She planned to stay silent until the meal was over, but suddenly, the woman across from her spoke up.
“Miss Wen, any interest in working at HS?” Unable to ask about Ning Jiuwei just yet, Su Jinglan steered toward a neutral topic.
Talk of work gave Wen Wanyuan her confidence back. She set down her phone, her poised aura reigniting as she sat up elegantly. Her response was poised and articulate. “I’ve only been at DM for a month, so no plans to jump ship yet. But if the company’s offer is good, I could consider it.”
The conversation shifted to design awards, all centered on career growth—nothing personal.
The meal passed with the two tables chatting independently. Ning Jiuwei ate sparingly, mostly sipping tea while talking with Shi Wanxu.
As her cup emptied again, Ning Jiuwei waited for Shi Wanxu to finish pouring water and reached for the teapot. Shi Wanxu gave her a gentle smile, picked up the cup from in front of her instead, and said, “Let me.”
“Thank you.” Ning Jiuwei’s politeness seemed courteous on the surface, but it was really a way to maintain distance in interactions. Shi Wanxu saw through it. After filling the cup seven-tenths full, she added, “No need to thank me. Things are different between us now.”
Su Jinglan, worldly and experienced in all sorts of situations, felt her expression shift abruptly. A surging wave of possessiveness devoured her reason.
What did she mean, things were different now? Had Ning Jiuwei and Shi Wanxu gotten together?
Su Jinglan recalled what Ning Jiuwei had said that night: If a psychologist was willing, she could drag a healed patient back into the abyss at any time, exploiting, controlling, and using her.
There was no concrete evidence proving that Shi Wanxu was Ning Jiuwei’s psychologist, but all the signs pointed to her being exactly that. For Shi Wanxu to control Ning Jiuwei’s mind and develop an emotional relationship with her would be child’s play.
Three years had passed, but was Ning Jiuwei’s dependence and trust in Shi Wanxu still unmatched by anyone else?
Su Jinglan discovered a problem she had nearly overlooked.
She forced herself to calm down and sent a message to Wen Wanyuan: “Miss Wen, do you know the person sitting across from Ning Jiuwei?”
Wen Wanyuan wanted to ask Su Jinglan if she knew who that woman across from Ning Jiuwei was and why she seemed so intimate with her.
Wen Wanyuan’s heart brimmed with jealousy, so sour it made her want to cry.
“I don’t know her. Do you?” Wen Wanyuan slipped her phone under the table and replied.
Upon receiving the message, Su Jinglan glanced at Wen Wanyuan’s expression. Wen Wanyuan lifted her gaze to meet hers, tilting her head slightly in evident confusion.
From her eyes to her body language, Wen Wanyuan’s reactions confirmed that she truly didn’t know Shi Wanxu.
This was odd. If Shi Wanxu was Ning Jiuwei’s psychologist, how could Wen Wanyuan not recognize her?
Soon, Su Jinglan came up with a reasonable explanation: people didn’t bring their childhood friend to therapy sessions. Ning Jiuwei must have been seeing Shi Wanxu alone.
Su Jinglan took a sip of water. She chatted blandly with Wen Wanyuan about innovative designs in the jewelry world, while her fingers tapped away on her phone screen. On WeChat, she messaged Wen Wanyuan: “Miss Wen, why did you say Ning Jiuwei can’t be with me?”
Without beating around the bush, she followed up directly: “Is it because she received psychotherapy?”
Wen Wanyuan choked on her water and burst into a fit of violent coughing. She quickly covered her mouth and bowed her head to evade Su Jinglan’s gaze.
Her reaction told Su Jinglan that this was indeed connected to the reason.
“Miss Wen, are you alright?” Su Jinglan pulled out a few tissues and handed them over. Ning Jiuwei heard the coughing and turned to look. Tears hanging in her eyes, Wen Wanyuan shook her head and managed to reply, “I’m fine. I just need to use the restroom.”
Wen Wanyuan grabbed her phone and headed to the restroom to wash the hand she’d used to cover her mouth. Ning Jiuwei shot Su Jinglan a glance, then said to Shi Wanxu, “I’ll be right back.” She followed in the direction of the restroom.
“Why are you meeting with President Su?” Ning Jiuwei placed her hands under the sensor faucet, using the rush of water to mask her words. Her gentle eyes resembled a serene sea.
Beneath the surface calm, treacherous whirlpools churned, ready to drag anyone under. Wen Wanyuan didn’t dare keep anything from Ning Jiuwei any longer. She sidled up beside her, linked arms with her, and answered honestly, “President Su wants to know why I don’t want you two together.”
The restroom was empty. Out of habit, Wen Wanyuan lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in close to Ning Jiuwei’s ear. “Su Jinglan seems to know you received psychotherapy. It wasn’t me who told her—I have no idea where she learned it.”
“How much did you tell her?” A familiar suffocating tightness gripped her chest. Ning Jiuwei closed her eyes for a moment and braced herself against the sink to steady her body.
“I didn’t tell her anything.” Wen Wanyuan let out a soft sigh. “Even if I wanted to, what I know is just the tip of the iceberg—I couldn’t say much anyway. By the way, who is that person you were dining with? How come I didn’t know you had such a close friend? Closer than me, even.”
It didn’t take long for Wen Wanyuan’s jealousy to bubble up, sharp and insistent, her expression one of pure aggrievement, as if she’d been cast aside.
“When did you two meet? Where? How often do you see each other—a few times a week?”
Ning Jiuwei exhaled slowly. “I’ll tell you next time when I have a chance. You head back first.”
“Oh, okay.” Wen Wanyuan obediently returned to her seat.
The moment she stepped out of the restroom, she spotted Su Jinglan waiting outside. Wen Wanyuan’s face drained of color in an instant. Remembering how the running water had drowned out the sound and how softly she’d spoken, she was reasonably sure Su Jinglan hadn’t overheard. She relaxed a little.
Su Jinglan gave her a look that said to leave, then entered the restroom herself.
Their gazes met in the mirror. Su Jinglan walked up beside Ning Jiuwei, cupped some water in her hand, and said, “I know.”
Ning Jiuwei’s heart hammered like a drum. She stared at her in disbelief. “What do you know, President Su?”
Striving for a gentle and composed tone, Su Jinglan turned to regard her. A smile gradually lit her deep eyes, and with her dripping wet hand, she cupped Ning Jiuwei’s cheek. “I know how much Designer Ning cares about me.”
~~~
