Chapter 54: Give It a Try Part 2

Beyond her slight resemblance to Zhen Shu in appearance, Qiu Chao’s personality had nothing to do with being detached from worldly strife.

She had strong material desires and a fierce competitive streak. She was greedy yet clear-headed, with no lingering worries holding her back.

Yan Kai knew she was destined to go far. He asked once more, “Are you sure about terminating the contract? It wouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll go solo,” Qiu Chao said. “Your company can’t satisfy me anymore.”

Yan Kai didn’t get angry. As a farewell gift, he gave her a luxury mansion abroad.

This later became the reason Yan Muyu felt her judgment had been wrong.

“Announcing it tomorrow, right?” Yan Kai asked.

Qiu Chao hummed in agreement. “I’ve got a photoshoot tomorrow too.”

“Will Muyu be shooting it?” Yan Kai asked.

Qiu Chao couldn’t help laughing.

“I’m worried she’ll get mad,” Yan Kai said.

“Let her misunderstand,” Qiu Chao replied.

“She forgets things easily anyway. It won’t be a big deal,” Yan Kai said.

“That’s exactly why the misunderstanding is perfect,” Qiu Chao said.

Let Yan Muyu remember me for many, many years.

Just like how she forgot me for many, many years.

~~~

Yan Muyu, of course, knew what Yan Kai felt for Zhen Shu.

Sometimes she thought she had a clear view of relationships, yet she still struggled to fully grasp all the twists and turns.

Like changing one’s mind or being unable to forget.

Yan Kai had liked Zhen Shu since his teens. Watching her marry and have children created a gulf between them—not just from family backgrounds but also age.

An older husband with a young wife was rare in their circles, and a younger woman with an older man still struck many as improper.

Yan Kai was much older than Zhen Shu. His feelings couldn’t help her and couldn’t even be openly acknowledged as common knowledge.

He also feared troubling her.

Yan Muyu knew he weighed many factors. As a child, she had asked Yan Kai why he couldn’t just give up his crush.

To Yan Muyu, who had been sent to school by Yan Kai that year, “liking” meant skipping painting lessons when she didn’t want to learn, or tossing aside the violin when she grew bored.

Whatever she learned, she approached it inconsistently—three days of effort followed by two days of slacking—and no one demanded persistence from her.

Yan Muyu didn’t want to be like that, because Yan Kai was the counterexample.

She had seen her brother sitting in the garden late at night.

That day had been Zhen Shu’s wedding. Scars still marked Yan Kai’s face—mockery whipped out by their own father.

Yan Kai was crying. Yan Muyu pretended not to see, but the family newspapers were full of reports on Zhen Shu’s marriage.

Back then, Yan Muyu had found it cruel, thinking: If it were me, I wouldn’t go.

No matter how she looked at it, attending the wedding of someone you loved—watching them marry an ill-suited old man as his second wife—had to be agonizing.

That was the second time Yan Muyu deeply realized the destructive power of “love” and “liking.”

The first had been the hysteria Lin Yumian inflicted on her.

It was as if a woman marrying a man—whether for true love or a business alliance—meant guarding her body and soul for him alone.

Lin Yumian’s grip had left marks on Yan Muyu’s shoulders that lingered even now. In summer, when she dressed lightly, people always teased her about which woman had left them.

Hatred left by the woman who bore me.

It made Yan Muyu wary of that kind of love.

But Yan Kai’s affection was like dew, vanishing the moment morning light appeared.

He was busy with studies and work, while fending off his father’s mistresses and their children.

He even had to check on Yan Muyu’s schoolwork in his spare time.

In the years when a young man should be wild and unrestrained, Yan Kai had shouldered responsibilities that should have been his parents’. The one flicker of youthful romance fitting his age shattered due to the gaps in age and status.

It became a muffled sob amid the chirping insects in the silent night garden.

As his sister, Yan Muyu couldn’t pry, but it served as a warning.

She learned that “liking” was also off-limits.

It could be fleeting, but not indulged.

Neither Lin Yumian nor Yan Kai had held the upper hand in love.

So when Yan Muyu’s first confession came during her teenage years, she accepted it on a whim, deciding to taste the thrill of being in control.

Human closeness could ease loneliness, and holding the reins would keep her from sinking too deep. She wouldn’t go mad for love like her mother or weep through long nights like her brother.

As long as I don’t like too much, don’t love too deeply, it’ll be fine.

See? It can be controlled.

But now Qiu Chao stood there, her voice gentler than a breeze over the mountains.

Yet it made Yan Muyu’s heart thud dully in her chest, as if something she had desperately hidden had finally been uncovered.

Qiu Chao knew that Yan Muyu knew.

She had been waiting for this day, savoring Yan Muyu’s inability to stay composed.

“If you don’t want to date,” Qiu Chao said, “how about marrying me abroad?”

The word “marriage” probably carried too much weight.

Qiu Chao even felt a touch of shyness. She glanced at the tips of her shoes, across from Yan Muyu’s sneakers.

Fine sand dusted the stone path, and weeds stubbornly sprouted from the cracks.

Qiu Chao hadn’t expected herself to say something like that. Her hands suddenly had nowhere to go, so she kept tucking her hair behind her ear.

She overlooked the streetlamp beside them.

Even its dim light was enough for Yan Muyu to see her flushed earlobes and the obvious unease.

The unease was so genuine that Yan Muyu couldn’t tell if it was an act.

The woman before her was a senior idolized by countless artists, her acting impeccable. But did Qiu Chao need to perform here?

Yan Muyu knew everything she’d just said was real.

This realization only tangled her heart further. She took a deep breath. “Marriage? Are you crazy, or am I?”

“If you call me crazy,” Qiu Chao said, “maybe I have been for a while.”

She smiled at Yan Muyu—not the kind that came with “Little Yan,” but something a bit unfamiliar.

In that instant, she seemed to return to her teens—not the seventeen-year-old selling rice noodles with her mother, nor the one teetering in high heels through KTV private rooms.

Just that specific seventeenth summer solstice.

That very day.

Qiu Chao’s frantic gratitude, her desperate grip, the survivor-like relief at being saved.

“Dating must be hard for you,” Qiu Chao said. “You can use the same tricks you did on your ex on me.”

She followed no typical confession script. Most people wouldn’t mention a gloomy ex during a confession.

But things between her and Yan Muyu were different.

Now Qiu Chao smiled openly. “Yan Muyu, I’m different in your heart, right?”

She reached out and finally took Yan Muyu’s hand.

That injured right hand—the same one that had pulled Qiu Chao up all those years ago.

The wound on Yan Muyu’s hand wasn’t fully healed. After driving earlier, she had ripped off the bandage, claiming it needed to breathe.

Now it was clear enough for Qiu Chao to see the long scab, crusted with rust-red blood, just like the stains from Qiu Chao’s blood on Yan Muyu’s shirt that year.

This person is destined to be stained by me.

Yan Muyu watched as Qiu Chao lowered her head slightly, her lips pressing to the back of Yan Muyu’s hand.

Just a few seconds. Full, plump lips leaving a suggestive print, red enough to make Yan Muyu’s mind buzz.

A voice in her heart kept repeating.

Everything she said is true.

It’s true.

Otherwise, why get angry?

Why not throw out that oil painting?

Why do those darkroom photos still exist?

Why, why, why not keep working as a photographer for Hree?

That office, that studio—places where Yan Muyu could see Qiu Chao anytime.

An unsolvable puzzle, a bottleneck stuck for over a decade.

A thorn in her throat.

The scar in her palm.

That was Qiu Chao herself.

~~~

The program crew still hadn’t switched to a close-up shot, so the live stream viewers could only zoom in to see those two women.

【What the hell are they talking about?! I’m so pissed off.】

【Just standing there? Like they’re being punished?】

【Holy shit, Qiu Chao reached out!!】

【Damn it, Yan Muyu’s blocking the view—what are they doing?】

【That banned comment was way too wild. What did it say? You must’ve hit a filter word.】

【Isn’t that tricycle Boss Hong’s?】

Yan Muyu was just about to speak when Hong Long arrived on her three-wheeler.

Her motorcycle had been borrowed by Yan Muyu, but the tricycle handled smoothly enough—and the cart even held a few ducks that quacked noisily as the woman hopped off.

Hong Long: “Boss Yan? And Boss Qiu too—what are you two up to?”

She seemed genuinely puzzled. “Didn’t Xiao Qing say you were here to see the dogs?”

Yan Muyu let out an “oh.” She pulled her hand back from Qiu Chao’s and took a few steps forward. “Yeah, we’re here for the dogs. Just chatting casually.”

The dark-skinned woman laughed heartily. She glanced at Yan Muyu’s dangling hand and spotted the red mark there.

Hong Long said nothing more and turned back to grab the ducks from the cart.

There were big ones, small ones, black ones, white ones—a total of five, all chattering noisily.

【Finally, they switched the camera.】

【Is the program crew doing this on purpose?!】

【Is someone getting paid to flirt on camera?】

【Boss Hong didn’t buy those ducks for Xiao Qing to play with, did she? I’m starting to think she’s actually pretty loaded.】

【Tea picking is a solid way to get rich if you work hard!】

Yan Muyu helped Hong Long carry two of the ducks, and Hong Long strode ahead.

Qiu Chao trailed behind, keeping two steps from Yan Muyu. The atmosphere shifted again.

Yan Muyu shoved one of the black ducks into Qiu Chao’s arms.

Qiu Chao: “What the hell?”

Yan Muyu suddenly grinned.

No one knew if she’d figured something out or just given up fighting it.

She tilted her head and said, “It looks just like you.”

Qiu Chao: “Huh?”

Yan Muyu: “It sure knows how to quack.”

Qiu Chao let out a hiss, and Yan Muyu bolted.

Qiu Chao wasn’t a stranger to teasing, but Yan Muyu’s brand—devoid of any passive-aggression—pissed her off even more.

She completely forgot Mai Chen’s endless nagging about poise and image. Her temper flared, and she chased after Yan Muyu on foot.

“Are you saying my voice is ugly?”

【What even is this? They’re like sixty combined!】

【Oh my god, Qiu Chao can be like this?】

【Yan Muyu’s mouth is seriously savage.】

【Total art shift.】

Yan Muyu: “Nah, just that it’s really loud.”

She added, “The one with the ugly voice is Qiu Siyuan. Don’t take it personally.”

【Ouch, brutal.】

【Can Director Qiu even handle this?】

The threshold at Xiao Qing’s home was removable, but Xiao Qing never took it down unless she was heading out.

It was still pretty high, though. Yan Muyu’s long legs made leaping it a breeze while running.

Qiu Chao had more trouble. She overestimated her jump and tripped.

In a flash, Yan Muyu tossed the duck toward Xuan Zhelu by the orange tree.

She spun around and caught Qiu Chao.

Yan Muyu staggered back several steps herself.

Qiu Chao crashed right into her arms.

Yan Muyu: “You did that on purpose?”

Qiu Chao: “Why would I?”

But the woman let go of her supporting hands. In the final moment, right by Qiu Chao’s ear, she whispered something utterly unrelated—

“Then give it a try.”