However, when she first brought Ming Li home, she had told her grandmother that while they hadn’t been dating long, they felt very compatible.
Now, Gu Qingshuang had to maintain the charade.
Once a lie is told, it takes countless more to cover it up.
“People change,” Gu Qingshuang said.
“Was it you who changed, or her?” the Grandmother asked.
Gu Qingshuang couldn’t answer for a moment and met the question with silence.
In that silence, the Grandmother began to speak slowly, reminiscing about Gu Qingshuang’s father. She spoke of how he and Gu Xueqiang were once a perfect match, and how they had eventually reached the point of no return.
The old lady had been taking sedatives lately. As she spoke, she grew drowsy. Mid-sentence, she leaned against the sofa and began to snore softly.
Gu Qingshuang sat on the sofa for a long time. She arranged for the servants to take her grandmother to her room before preparing to leave.
Gu Fei saw her out. Standing on the steps, Gu Qingshuang suddenly asked, “When did you find out?”
“About what?” Gu Fei countered.
“The divorce.”
“A few days ago.”
Gu Fei wasn’t lying. She was Gu Qingshuang’s Little Aunt in name, but they rarely shared more than a few words.
“Did she say why?” Gu Qingshuang asked.
Gu Fei slowly shook her head. “She didn’t.”
Seeing she would get nothing more from Gu Fei, Gu Qingshuang prepared to leave, telling her to rest early. But as she turned, she heard Gu Fei say tonelessly, “Isn’t a divorce between you two only natural? There doesn’t need to be a ‘why’.”
Gu Qingshuang stopped in her tracks. Her gaze darkened, and the surrounding air seemed to turn colder.
Gu Fei didn’t seem to notice. She looked down and laughed. “It started as a contract; it was bound to end eventually. Whether it’s a day early or a day late, why let it bother you?”
Gu Qingshuang didn’t speak.
Gu Fei watched her with a haunted gaze.
The tall woman looked even more elegant in her grey wool coat, her proportions striking. When the fragmented light and shadows fell across her face, it looked like a spotlight meant only for her. That face and those eyes were incredibly intimidating.
Yet Gu Fei didn’t feel a shred of fear.
She used to.
She vividly remembered when she first arrived at the Gu house. She had been wearing a pair of sandals that cost ten yuan. Stepping onto the polished marble floors—so clean they could reflect a person’s image—the floor had easily mirrored her embarrassment.
Gu Qingshuang had been sitting at the dining table, staring at her with those indifferent eyes that seemed ready to bury her into the ground.
Gu Fei had been a minor when she arrived, but Gu Qingshuang was already twenty. She was thin, tall, and capable, yet she carried an indescribable gloom and sorrow.
But Gu Fei always felt that Qingshuang was just as pitiable as she was.
Gu Fei had desperately wanted to talk to her, but she was afraid.
For an entire year, she and Gu Qingshuang had only ever said two things to each other.
“Hello.”
“Oh.”
It was pathetically brief.
“Some things aren’t meant to be said here.” Gu Qingshuang paused. “Does Grandmother know?”
“She doesn’t,” Gu Fei said calmly. “If she knew your marriage was a contract, she would be furious. Your mother’s inheritance rights might face more turmoil.”
Gu Fei’s voice was very low, audible only to the two of them.
“Then don’t let her know,” Gu Qingshuang said softly.
“You don’t seem surprised that I know about the contract?” Gu Fei arched an eyebrow.
“You have your ways,” Gu Qingshuang replied. “Walls have ears.”
That line effectively shut Gu Fei up.
Gu Qingshuang moved to leave, but Gu Fei suddenly called her name. Gu Qingshuang paused.
“You look very sad,” Gu Fei noted. “Do you love her?”
Gu Qingshuang frowned. “If you raise a cat or a dog for three years, you feel reluctant when it’s time to part. How much more so for a human? Does that have to be love?”
Hearing this answer, Gu Fei felt a surge of frustration in her chest. “Then you don’t love her.”
“In that case, why ask her about those things? You’re getting divorced; don’t do things that could cause misunderstandings.”
Best not to shake Ming Li’s resolve.
The words were irritating. Gu Qingshuang hadn’t planned on saying much more, but she suddenly couldn’t help herself. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Gu Fei asked.
Gu Qingshuang stood in the biting wind. She wanted to speak, but she remembered this wasn’t the place for a loud conversation.
She took out her phone, found Gu Fei’s chat window, and rapidly typed out a sentence.
[Is your relationship with Ming Li really just ‘simple classmate friendship’?]
Gu Fei was stunned for a few seconds. When she looked up, she saw Gu Qingshuang eyeing her with a mixture of contempt and jealousy.
That look instantly transported Gu Fei back fifteen years to the day she first arrived at the Gu family.
Gu Fei tapped on her screen to reply: [I like her. I liked her long before she met you.]
A few seconds later, Gu Fei sent another: [Is there a rule saying I can’t like her?]
A red exclamation mark appeared next to the message.
Gu Qingshuang had deleted Gu Fei immediately after she admitted to liking Ming Li.
She couldn’t quite describe the feeling, only that it felt stifling.
Gu Qingshuang had seen Gu Fei and Ming Li chatting a few times in the past, but she hadn’t thought much of it.
But just now, Gu Fei’s expression had been far too piercing—like the provocation of a victor.
Gu Qingshuang hadn’t expected her to admit it so readily.
It made her unhappy.
But what made her even more unhappy was the thought that Ming Li might actually become her Little Aunt.
In any other family, that would be impossible.
But this was the Gu family.
A family that preached the most about morality and virtue while engaging in the filthiest dealings behind closed doors.
Take Gu Fei, for example. She wasn’t her grandfather’s illegitimate daughter at all.
She was a girl her grandmother had brought back under the name of her deceased grandfather.
As for her true origins, Gu Qingshuang didn’t know, and she didn’t want to know.
Regardless, there were plenty of secrets involved.
Nothing that happened in the Gu family could truly be surprising.
Gu Qingshuang wondered: If Ming Li really returns to the Gu family as my Little Aunt, what will I do?
She pondered this question from the moment she returned to her room.
The night was long, and the room was dark.
Eventually, a sliver of morning light broke through the distant horizon. Day had broken.
Gu Qingshuang looked out the window, watching the thin mist being gently pushed by the wind.
Another sleepless night.
Ever since Ming Li stopped coming home, Gu Qingshuang had hardly slept a wink.
The reason she had subconsciously asked that question yesterday was partly because she wanted to see if she could fall asleep if Ming Li were in the room.
But thinking about it now, even if she could, what would be the point?
They wouldn’t be sleeping together in the future anyway.
Gu Qingshuang thought all night, but she couldn’t find an answer to her question.
The only conclusion she reached was that she couldn’t let it happen.
Gu Qingshuang dragged her exhausted body out of bed to wash up. She twisted the faucet all the way to the side, splashing cold water onto her face. It woke her up significantly.
She had originally planned to go out without makeup as usual, but seeing herself in the mirror—with heavy dark circles under her eyes—she remembered Gu Xueqiang’s mockery.
Gu Qingshuang sat at the vanity.
The items on the vanity were what Ming Li had taken the most of. Their skin types were similar, and since Gu Qingshuang was too lazy to research such things, she usually had people curate products for her. After Ming Li arrived, she mostly just used whatever Ming Li used.
Now, the vanity was more than half empty.
