Lu Shuang: Is this not cheating? Can you sue her?!
Lu Shuang: I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it on a friend’s feed today.
Ming Li zoomed in on the photo. She instantly recognized Gu Qingshuang and Shen Lideng. Specifically, Shen Lideng’s vivid red dress was unmistakable.
Lu Shuang added that Shen Lideng had been hospitalized at their hospital a few days ago, and Doctor Gu hadn’t gone to see her. Lu Shuang had thought Doctor Gu was finally over her. But then Shen Lideng supposedly fell into the water, worsening her condition, and spent several days recovering at the hospital before being discharged.
During that time, Doctor Gu only visited her once for less than half an hour. Furthermore, Doctor Gu had taken leave during that period.
Lu Shuang had truly believed nothing was going on between them!
But this one photo had left Lu Shuang stunned. She had even reached out to a friend who attended the gathering, who said that Shen Lideng and Gu Qingshuang seemed to be on great terms the whole night—not like a couple that had broken up at all.
Lu Shuang forwarded the chat logs to Ming Li. As a woman who had once backed off immediately after her confession failed and she learned the other person was married, Lu Shuang had no patience for this kind of behavior. She didn’t care if the truth hurt Ming Li; she wasn’t going to let her be kept in the dark.
Ming Li read through all of Lu Shuang’s messages. She thought she should be angry—at the very least, she should pretend to be.
Yet her heart felt no waves. She almost wanted to laugh.
She wondered what Gu Qingshuang’s concerned phone call last night had meant. Was it guilt? Guilt from meeting Shen Lideng after having missed a major career opportunity to save her? Or perhaps guilt for the fever and ICU stay that had followed?
Probably.
But Gu Qingshuang didn’t need to feel that way. These things were simply what Ming Li had to do. They were written into the contract.
Ming Li didn’t cry for herself, but for a fleeting moment, her heart clenched with a sharp, dull pain.
She adjusted quickly, seriously reassuring Lu Shuang and telling her she would get to the bottom of it, and if it were true, she wouldn’t let it slide.
The words felt fake even to her, but they were the most effective way to pacify a righteous bystander. After replying, Ming Li didn’t think about it anymore. She even ate an extra half-bowl of rice.
After returning home, Gu Qingshuang soon noticed the beads on Ming Li’s wrist. She even commented that the luster seemed better than before.
Ming Li did think they looked a bit brighter than when she first got them, though they still appeared cheap. She didn’t mention the ordeal she was going through, simply stating they were Fortune Beads.
Gu Qingshuang didn’t ask further.
Ming Li settled into a routine. Every morning at 5:00 AM, she didn’t even need an alarm to wake up and head to the spare bedroom.
Little Xi, fearing her knees would be uncomfortable, bought her knee pads. Zhu Hanxing, worried that kneeling without an object of worship lacked sincerity, spent two thousand yuan online to commission a small, consecrated Buddha statue.
Once everything was set up in the second bedroom, Ming Li felt it had become her own little private shrine. The fixed four hours a day were hard to maintain at first, but with the help of her alarms, she persevered.
Naturally, Ming Li never asked why Shen Lideng had been at the gathering. From her position, it wasn’t a question she had the right to ask.
Ming Li always remembered: they didn’t talk about love.
Forty-nine days passed neither slowly nor quickly. As the first autumn rain began to fall, Ming Li completed her final day of prayer.
From the early days when she would feel dizzy upon standing, she had reached a point where two hours of kneeling felt like nothing. Her ability to sit in silent prayer grew by the day, her mind often drifting to company matters or her relationship with Gu Qingshuang.
Usually, she thought more about the company.
That evening, after Gu Qingshuang finished her shower, Ming Li asked her to hold out her hand.
Confused, Gu Qingshuang complied. “What is it?”
Ming Li slid the beads onto her wrist. They still carried the warmth of Ming Li’s body. Gu Qingshuang wasn’t in the habit of wearing jewelry—she didn’t even have her ears pierced and wore clip-ons for formal events.
Ignoring her slight flinch, Ming Li said with feigned nonchalance, “These are for you.”
“This…” Gu Qingshuang was puzzled. “Aren’t these the Fortune Beads you asked for?”
Ming Li felt a surge of nervousness. She was afraid Gu Qingshuang would find them tacky, or that she would refuse. After a moment’s thought, she gave an answer Gu couldn’t reject: “My luck has already turned around recently, so I’m giving them to you to pass on the good fortune. We’ve been married for a while now, and I haven’t really given you a gift yet.”
Gu Qingshuang stared at the beads. It truly felt awkward to refuse. Since they didn’t look like an expensive item, she decided to accept them, planning to give Ming Li a more valuable gift in return later.
“Thank you,” Gu Qingshuang said.
Ming Li told her to take good care of them and then went to take a shower.
Neither Gu Qingshuang nor Gu Xueqiang knew that Ming Li had spent forty-nine days kneeling for those beads. They only knew she had recently taken an interest in Buddhism and had placed a small statue in the house.
However, somehow, Gu Fei found out.
Ming Li happened to have some free time and invited Gu Fei to dinner.
Gu Fei stared at her, her expression one of “frustrated disappointment.” “You’ve truly gone mad.”
After her period of reflection and quietude, Ming Li’s temperament had matured significantly. She asked calmly, “What’s wrong?”
“You spent forty-nine days kneeling because of some fraud’s words, just to get Gu Qingshuang a cheap string of beads?” Gu Fei knit her brows, her voice laced with sharp anger. “Ming Li, are you in love with her, or are you just—”
“Little Aunt!” Ming Li snapped.
The calm and self-control she had maintained for so long shattered instantly. Gu Fei’s words had struck at the very core of what Ming Li had been avoiding thinking about.
But Ming Li still wanted to keep up appearances—at least for now. Her relationship with Gu Qingshuang hadn’t reached the point of a mandatory break, had it?
Besides, she was fine. That was enough.
Gu Fei’s eyes turned red with anger. She gritted her teeth and said, “You are beyond help.”
Ming Li was equally annoyed. “I never asked you to help!”
Gu Fei went silent. Before turning to leave, she gave Ming Li a long, sorrowful look.
Ming Li didn’t dare meet her eyes.
