Lu Shuang even whispered to her, “Shen Lideng is back in the country. You need to be careful.”
Ming Li asked, “What do I need to be careful about?”
“Careful that Gu Qingshuang doesn’t get snatched away!” Lu Shuang said. “Even though she looks cold, she’s actually very devoted. A total ‘pure love warrior’.”
Ming Li couldn’t tell her that she and Gu Qingshuang were only in a contract marriage, so there was no need for such things. Besides, the person Gu Qingshuang loved had never been her. She was just temporarily filling the role of her wife. After her, there would be someone else.
Even though Ming Li had fallen for Gu Qingshuang, she didn’t dare hope they would spend the rest of their lives together. Ming Li had her moments of fantasy, but these days she was mostly a realist. She simply smiled at Lu Shuang’s warning.
Lu Shuang was more anxious than the actual wife. “Don’t take it lightly. Shen Lideng is very good at manipulating people. A rational type like you is definitely no match for her.”
Ming Li was curious. “Why are you helping me?”
Lu Shuang was silent for a few seconds before asking gloomily, “Do you want the truth?”
Ming Li nodded. “Of course.”
“Even though I don’t like Dr. Gu anymore, I still want her to be happy,” Lu Shuang said. Ming Li didn’t quite understand. “It’s obvious that she’s much happier by your side than she ever was with Shen Lideng. Her emotions are so much more stable around you; she’s become a better person. I’ve been thinking about it these past two days—the way Shen Lideng treated Dr. Gu sometimes was like training a dog.”
Ming Li: “…”
First of all, how did Lu Shuang conclude that Gu Qingshuang was stable and happy around her? Secondly, Gu Qingshuang being trained like a dog? The image was too intense; Ming Li couldn’t even imagine it.
Ming Li still had to play the role of the loving wife in front of Lu Shuang, so she said calmly, “Regardless, we are married and our relationship is stable. You don’t need to worry for me. Since you’ve known Shuangshuang for so long, you should know what kind of person she is.”
“Ah,” Lu Shuang said awkwardly. “We aren’t actually that close.”
Ming Li laughed lightly. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“Fine, call me over-anxious then,” Lu Shuang said, shaking her head. “I just haven’t been able to feel happy since I saw the news of Shen Lideng’s return.”
Lu Shuang was quite outspoken and didn’t act like a stranger at all, chatting with Ming Li as if they had been best friends for years. Ming Li wasn’t very good at rejecting people, and since Lu Shuang was witty and reminded her a bit of Ming Xi, she just listened quietly, occasionally offering a thought.
By the time Ming Li snapped back to reality, Lu Shuang had transitioned from Gu Qingshuang to her own family life. She stopped herself mid-sentence. “I really am…” She looked a bit exasperated with herself.
“I haven’t had anyone to talk to about this,” Lu Shuang sighed. “My mom passed away early, and I live with my dad, who doesn’t understand anything. It was my fault, but Dr. Gu got sent away, and now the other interns are freezing me out. I’m sorry, Ming Li, that was rude of me.”
Ming Li smiled and shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“You’re such a good person.” Lu Shuang looked at her. Ming Li had a striking, bright face, yet she seemed gentle and serene. When she smiled, it felt as though every breeze and beam of light were serving her. The light and wind accentuated her beauty, but it wasn’t her looks that were most captivating—it was her aura.
Talking to her was comfortable. It was just like that night in the restroom when Ming Li had comforted her. She hadn’t said much, yet it felt strangely healing.
Ming Li hadn’t expected to be given a “good person card” just for listening for a while. After saying what she wanted to say, Lu Shuang forced a smile. “If you ever need to vent, feel free to find me.”
Ming Li smiled. “Sure.”
Lu Shuang checked her watch. “I have to do rounds. You go ahead. Just remember—be on your guard.”
Ming Li: “…Okay.”
“I’ll be your eyes in the hospital.” Lu Shuang pointed to her own eyes. “I’ll keep a watch on Dr. Gu for you.”
Ming Li had wanted to say something earlier, but Lu Shuang talked too fast for her to cut in. Now she finally found an opening. “There’s no need. If someone can be snatched away, then they were never meant to be mine anyway.”
Ming Li’s day was relatively relaxed. When she returned to the Gu Manor that evening, Gu Xueqiang wasn’t home yet. Gu Qingshuang had likely caused a lot of trouble for Gu Xueqiang the other night, and she was busy cleaning up the mess.
The situation in the Gu family was complex, with eyes watching from every corner. Gu Liufu had been ill and hospitalized for a long time, rarely seen in public. Gu Xueqiang was the eldest daughter, but she wasn’t the favorite. If it hadn’t been for Gu Liufu’s sharp vision and ruthless tactics back in the day, the inheritance battle would have bypassed Gu Xueqiang’s branch entirely.
Gu Qingshuang didn’t want Gu Xueqiang to fight. She had suggested long ago that her mother should give up, take her 8% stake, and retire. Even with just that, she would have billions in dividends—more than enough for any lifestyle. But Gu Xueqiang wanted to fight. She fought by any means necessary and forced Gu Qingshuang to fight alongside her.
Ming Li didn’t understand all the intricacies, but as Gu Qingshuang’s wife, she had been caught in the crossfire for three years. Attending a single family banquet was enough to burn through half her brain cells. The people in the Gu family were all cunning; one had to be extremely cautious against their hidden barbs.
Normally, Gu Xueqiang would have called Ming Li to help with the aftermath, but since this matter concerned Ming Li personally, she hadn’t reached out. No news was good news.
Ming Li didn’t go looking for work. She went to her room, washed up, and lay in bed. There were two hours left until midnight, and she still hadn’t received an email from the Jing’an Grand Theater. Since it was the final day and she hadn’t heard anything, it likely meant she had been rejected. The staff had probably already gone home. Still, she couldn’t help but hope.
After all, she was once a dancer praised by the theater director himself. Ming Li had been a top talent since childhood, always center stage, with over a hundred trophies to her name. Surely a B-role wouldn’t be a problem? Even so, she was anxious.
She clutched her phone until 11:30 PM before finally falling asleep from exhaustion. When she woke up at 3:00 AM, she saw an unread email in her inbox.
Instantly awake, Ming Li sat up, rubbed her eyes, and opened it.
[Dear Ms. Ming Li,
Regrettably, you did not pass the audition for the Jing’an Grand Theater.
We wish you the best in finding a more suitable position.