Chapter 17 Part 2

Liu Chunhua’s fist clenched tight. Chen Junjie stepped forward, gently prying her fingers open before guiding her in the indicated direction.

This was something they could only resolve with Dean Su. Otherwise, even if they managed to derail things this time, no one could say for sure there wouldn’t be a next one.

Meanwhile, Chen Nian dashed from room to room until she finally located Fang Zhi.

It was a changing room. Fang Zhi had just finished changing and cracked open the door when she came face-to-face with Chen Nian.

Fang Zhi froze. So did Chen Nian.

Fang Zhi was stunned because she hadn’t expected to see Chen Nian right there the moment she opened the door. Chen Nian was stunned by the outfit Fang Zhi was wearing.

Those weren’t clothes fit for a child.

The black spaghetti-strap gauze dress had a layered skirt hem that barely shielded from view, while the bodice was as sheer as a pair of mosquito nets.

Vast swaths of her shoulders and skin lay bare, with even places that shouldn’t be visible teasingly peeking through.

To most people, a seven-year-old was just a child, her body not yet showing any real signs of puberty. But Chen Nian had seen those photos.

Ten years after Fang Zhizhu’s death, on the night she spoke with Doctor Zhou.

That was when she learned Fang Zhizhu had once gone by Fang Zhi, that her cold-blooded parents weren’t biological, and that she’d spent her years from seven to nine in the Welfare Institute. From there, Chen Nian had scoured the internet in a frenzy and uncovered faint traces.

A little girl named Fang Zhi who had posed for model photos and entered talent competitions.

Some of the images were somewhat innocent. Others were anything but.

Those weren’t the sorts of outfits printed on posters hawked in shops. Nor were they poses any normal child model would strike.

Chen Nian was a photographer. She knew this better than anyone.

She understood both sides of the lens—and how filthy this industry could be in its darkest corners.

Fang Zhi’s face in those shots was one of bewildered innocence, awkward and stiff, like a marionette jerked around by invisible strings.

The photographer on the other end? Filthy. Lecherous. A bloodsucking demon preying on the purest of children.

Chen Nian’s entire body shook. She couldn’t bear to imagine what Fang Zhi must have endured back then—and now here she was, standing right in front of her, her life’s path veering no further from its grim course despite all of Chen Nian’s efforts.

What was destined to happen would happen. The fears that haunted you would always come true.

Chen Nian stared at Fang Zhi, her face flushing crimson, her eyes burning red. She felt like she couldn’t draw breath. Her hand flew to her throat, clawing to loosen the invisible stranglehold—or maybe to choke the life out of herself.

The sight terrified Fang Zhi. Her eyes went wide as she reached out. “Chen Nian, what’s wrong?”

Before Fang Zhi’s fingers could graze her skin, Chen Nian seized her wrist. Without a single word of explanation, she yanked her back inside the room.

She slammed the door shut with her heel. It clicked locked behind them.

The changing room stood empty now, racks of clothing lining the walls. Chen Nian’s gaze swept over them, landing on far too many things she never wanted to see.

Gripping Fang Zhi’s wrist, Chen Nian dragged her to the full-length mirror. She jabbed a finger at Fang Zhi’s reflection. “Who told you to wear that?”

Fang Zhi looked dazed, frightened, but she answered anyway. “To take photos.”

“Was it that Zhang guy?” Chen Nian demanded.

Fang Zhi nodded.

Chen Nian fixed her gaze on that face in the mirror, those guileless eyes. Her own ferocious glare felt like a dagger’s edge, but she couldn’t rein it in. She simply couldn’t contain the storm raging inside her—her heart skewered by a thousand blades.

“Why are you even here? Did someone force you?”

Fang Zhi shook her head.

“Did someone threaten you?”

Another shake of the head.

“So this was your choice?” Chen Nian’s voice broke. “Voluntary? Your choice?”

Fang Zhi went still. She said nothing, just stared at Chen Nian, her eyes brimming with childlike confusion and shock.

She was only seven years old.

She should have been carefree—giggling at a piece of candy, dashing about in fits of joy.

Chen Nian clapped a hand over her face. She forced deep breaths, then willed herself to calm down.

Her voice came out: “Didn’t I tell you? I told you not to come. My mom said you shouldn’t come either. You have to listen to the grown-ups. My mom is a good person. You have to listen to what she says…”

Fang Zhi felt at a loss. Even from the first time she’d met Chen Nian, she’d known this was a strange girl—one who was always inexplicably tearing up.

She had the piercing gaze of an adult, yet her smile was more innocent than that of a three-year-old child.

She said strange things and did strange things. Her affection for Fang Zhi was strange, too.

She laughed for Fang Zhi’s sake, cried for Fang Zhi’s sake, and now she was suffering for Fang Zhi’s sake. Fang Zhi watched her hands clutching her face, watched her trembling shoulders. Though she didn’t know the reason for the pain, she finally understood what pain truly meant.

Pain was an agony so deep it hurt terribly—terribly enough to affect those around you, making Fang Zhi hurt too.

Fang Zhi could no longer hide it from her. Shame seemed utterly insignificant in the face of such suffering.

“I want to make money,” Fang Zhi said.

“With money, I can buy pretty clothes. I can go to school.

“I can pay back Auntie. I can pay you back. I’ll buy you chocolate.”

Chen Nian could hold back no longer. She burst into loud sobs.

Fang Zhi clamped her mouth shut, not daring to voice the final thought.

—If only I’d had a lot of money before, Mom and Dad wouldn’t have died.

The lounge fell into a stalemate.

Liu Chunhua and Chen Junjie meant well, but the one truly connected to this matter was Su Li.

Liu Chunhua felt the child was too young to start dealing with money-making schemes. It would surely interfere with her studies later on and instill prematurely mature views on money and values.

But Su Li brushed aside her argument with ease. “Kids in the orphanage aren’t like kids at home,” she said. “When even putting food on the table is a problem, who has time to worry about values?”

She continued, “I won’t take a single cent of what Fang Zhi earns. It’s all hers. Her parents didn’t leave her much, so if she makes money, she can buy books she likes, attend better schools—even treat herself to an extra meal and put on some weight. That’s good.”

“People have different fates,” she said. “Every child has their own way of life, and Fang Zhi has so few choices right now.”

“I’m doing this for her own good,” she added. “She knows full well this can make money, and she’s willing.”

Liu Chunhua couldn’t outargue her, yet she wasn’t ready to give up either.

Chen Junjie chimed in from the side now and then. At heated moments, words nearly burst from his lips, only for Liu Chunhua to cut him off.

Adopting a child wasn’t a simple matter.

It meant taking responsibility for someone’s entire life. You couldn’t decide on a mere impulse.

The lounge fell silent. Just as Liu Chunhua gathered her thoughts to speak again, a sudden commotion erupted outside. Then the door to the lounge was flung open.

It was her daughter.

Chen Nian was clutching Fang Zhi’s arm, her eyes bloodshot from recent tears. Fang Zhi was wrapped in an oversized coat, her bare legs exposed beneath it.

Liu Chunhua yanked both girls over and shielded them behind her.

Chen Junjie moved swiftly too, stepping in front of Liu Chunhua to form a double barrier.

Director Zhang came chasing after them, shouting in a fluster, “What do you think you’re doing!”

“What do you think you’re doing!” Chen Junjie roared back. The man who never raised his voice sounded like a nervous lion when he did.

He jabbed a finger at Director Zhang. “You stop right there! Don’t move! Stay back!”

Director Zhang halted involuntarily, just a step from crossing the threshold.

He tried to explain. “This kid of yours is way too wild, running around my company and now dragging off my model…”

“Shut your mouth!” Liu Chunhua snapped, interrupting him. She turned, crouched down, and carefully inspected both children, then asked Chen Nian, “What happened? Tell Mommy. Come on, tell Mommy…”

Chen Nian sniffled. “Mommy, I’m fine.”

Liu Chunhua had just exhaled in relief when Chen Nian tugged at Fang Zhi. “It’s Fang Zhi who’s in trouble.”

Liu Chunhua’s pupils dilated. Chen Nian shifted to block the others’ view of Fang Zhi and pulled open the girl’s coat.

“They made Fang Zhi wear clothes like this for photos.”

Director Zhang shouted, “What kind of clothes! What clothes! You little brat, what do you know? These are all new designs from the brand’s designers. You go running around in them, and if something happens, can you take responsibility?!”

It was true— to some people, it was just wearing some specially designed clothes and posing for a few photos.

They hadn’t cursed the child, hadn’t hit her, hadn’t done anything else weird. They’d even dressed your kid up nice and pretty, given photos and money.

What was the problem?

What was the problem? Plenty of people would ask.

“What problem is there? That’s what the police would ask, and the law would ask the same.”

They ask it that way not because they’re certain there’s no problem, but because they can’t prove there is one.

In the absence of any other evidence—not even being able to articulate the harm—making such a huge fuss like this is really a bit strange, a bit embarrassing, and a bit unreasonable.

But Chen Nian had to do it.

Even if fate repeated itself and remained forever uncontrollable, she would still exhaust every effort to prevent all of Fang Zhi’s future tragedies and harms.

Moreover, she trusted her own mother.

She trusted her mother’s sensitivity as a fellow woman, and her unwavering integrity that had never crossed the line. She trusted that her father would protect the family no matter what happened.

So she said it outright, letting her mother foresee this bloodless harm.

Liu Chunhua raised her hand and fastened Fang Zhi’s jacket.

She stood up and turned around, ignoring the shouting Director Zhang, and looked directly at Su Li nearby.

“Dean Su,” she said, “we’ve decided to adopt Fang Zhi and become her guardian.”

“Now, can we ask you to take her away from here and never earn this money again?”

~~~