Chapter 27 Part 2

“So, is that her wish now, what you described?”

After losing her voice, she empathized with the deaf-mute kids and entered fashion to earn money for better living and learning conditions?

Seeing Shi Youwan turn her face, Shen Muxi suddenly felt a pang of pity.

The sorrow enveloping Shi Youwan was like a sudden autumn downpour, drenching her—and even Shen Muxi, standing so close, couldn’t escape it.

“Let’s say it is.” Shen Muxi turned away hastily, inexplicably gripped by a sense of having gone too far.

Heaven and earth as witnesses, she really wasn’t bullying Shi Youwan.

This wasn’t a place to linger. Shen Muxi waved goodbye and said as she walked, “The vulnerable are legion; we can’t help them all, just do our best.”

She truly feared Shi Youwan would wave her hand and start throwing money at school constructions tomorrow.

Building schools was good.

But impulse was the devil.

At the door, she remembered something else. “Oh, right—we’ll be in Yinzhou for two more days, heading back to Lingjiang the evening after tomorrow.”

Shen Muxi’s home and company were in Lingjiang City, adjacent to the capital, the nation’s entertainment hub. She lived there long-term, and so did Chi Yumo.

Between smart people, some things went without saying. Shen Muxi had claimed her benefits and given due respect, leaving room in her words.

She believed Shi Youwan understood her intent and that she’d have smooth sailing with her from now on.

Whether Shi Youwan’s green light was needed was one thing; whether she’d give it was another. Consider it a favor, mutual help, win-win.

How long could telling a story take?

Shen Muxi wrapped up everything she knew about Chi Yumo in half an hour, but every minute and second of it was a slow torture for Shi Youwan.

Was she the one who caused little Mo’s mental trauma?

It was she who caused Xiao Mo to lose her voice, who prevented Xiao Mo from becoming a drama actress. It was she who held the knife, becoming the executioner who severed Xiao Mo’s dreams.

Shi Youwan regretted it.

She had regretted it as early as a year ago.

But did regret do any good?

No matter how much money she had, she couldn’t go back to the past or rewrite history.

As long as Xiao Mo could live well from now on, she was willing to pay the price for her past arrogance. It was her mistake, so she should swallow the bitter fruit, not let Xiao Mo bear it.

Not two minutes after Shen Muxi left, Qiao Ke knocked on the door. “President Shi?”

Shi Youwan didn’t have the energy to speak loudly. She finished the wine in her glass and sent a message on her phone: [Come in.]

“President Shi, Miss Mo, she…”

“Lost her voice due to excessive trauma. During her time as a PE teacher at the Deaf-Mute School, she learned sign language.” Shi Youwan poured herself another glass of wine and walked back to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Excessive trauma, lost her voice, Deaf-Mute School—so she really couldn’t speak? Qiao Ke was so shocked that her brain blanked out for several seconds.

After passing the message to Shen Muxi in the banquet hall earlier, she had looked at the glamorous Chi Yumo not far away, still begging God not to play such an outrageous joke.

It was more than outrageous.

“Find Xiao Mo’s room number.”

…

The wall lamps along the corridor softly illuminated every inch of space, but Shi Youwan felt only darkness before her eyes.

She slowed her steps, propped one hand against the wall, and gently rubbed her eyes with the other.

She hadn’t shed much tears, yet her eyes felt as swollen as if she had cried rivers—dry, gritty, and blurry.

It was as if even heaven wasn’t on her side. Just as she stopped to rub her eyes, someone overtook her with light, swift steps, reaching Chi Yumo’s door first and knocking without hesitation.

Shi Youwan arrived a step too late compared to Cheng Xiangxiang.

Once again, she watched with her own eyes as Cheng Xiangxiang embraced Xiao Mo.

“Yu Mo!”

The one weeping with joy was also Cheng Xiangxiang.

Shi Youwan didn’t see Chi Yumo or hear her response, but she watched Cheng Xiangxiang walk into Chi Yumo’s room.

Celebrating their reunion.

In the room, Chi Yumo handed Cheng Xiangxiang tissues to wipe her tears and typed on a tablet: [Who told you I was here?]

Cheng Xiangxiang wiped her tears and cried even harder seeing her type on the tablet.

Chi Yumo patted her back and sat beside her, waiting for her to finish crying.

After a long while, Cheng Xiangxiang sobbed, “My brother was also at tonight’s charity banquet. He sent me a photo and asked if it was the classmate I’d been looking for. When I saw it really was you, I took a cab and rushed back.”

After Cheng Xiangxiang joined the Provincial Drama Troupe, her family bought her a place there, and she went home only once or twice a month. Her brother had met Chi Yumo, and she had asked him to help look for her.

Back then, half the reason she applied to the Provincial Drama Troupe was for her acting dreams, and half for Chi Yumo.

During the year Chi Yumo had been missing, she had carried both their dreams without faltering, hoping one day to reunite with Chi Yumo on a high stage.

“My brother even found Shen Muxi’s assistant, showed them our photos and videos to prove our classmate relationship. The assistant must have consulted Shen Muxi and gotten permission before calling me to briefly explain your current situation and give me some dos and don’ts for meeting you.”

[As you can see, I’m now a signed artist under Shen Muxi’s company. She’s my boss.]

Shen Muxi agreed to let Cheng Xiangxiang see her because she wanted her to have friends again.

She knew Shen Muxi must have investigated her.

She and Cheng Xiangxiang had gone a bit viral online from their graduation play, so searching her name brought up her wiki page—her alma mater, social connections, employer—all public knowledge.

But Shen Muxi had only asked why she suddenly lost her speech, never about what kind of person she used to be or what she had done.

“Yu Mo, do you want to be an artist?”

Cheng Xiangxiang actually wanted to ask what she’d been through, but the assistant had repeatedly warned her not to rush into questions about her lost voice upon meeting. Chat about old times first, bond, then ease into it.

Chi Yumo nodded.

“But when the agency approached you before, you said you had no interest in entering entertainment. I’m worried Shen Muxi might be like the rumors say—bullying people with her power, mistreating employees, forcing unfair contracts, exploiting your value to make money for her while making you… accompany clients…”

Accompany clients?

Clients did need accompanying, but Cheng Xiangxiang meant “sleeping her way up”?

Shen Muxi, oh Shen Muxi—her reputation was just that bad. If it had been Wen Ruoyi who signed her today, Cheng Xiangxiang definitely wouldn’t worry about such nonsense.

[Sister Mu Xi is a good person, sharp-tongued with a soft heart.]

[She didn’t force me into anything.]

“Really?”

Chi Yumo smiled and nodded.

“That’s good.”

Relieved, Cheng Xiangxiang asked again, “So you’ll follow her from now on, just modeling?”

She didn’t discriminate against models; she still remembered Chi Yumo’s dream of the Capital Drama Theater and that her nature was so reserved and quiet.

Now going against her dreams—how bitter and frustrated must she feel?

Cheng Xiangxiang’s words reminded Chi Yumo of when they met at the Deaf-Mute School, when Shen Muxi asked if she had any dreams.

She said as long as she was willing to follow her, she could help make them come true.

Once upon a time, Shi Youwan had also asked her what her ideals were. She had been one step closer to the Capital Drama Theater, but now she was drifting farther and farther away—probably never to enter in this lifetime.

So she shook her head at Shen Muxi.

A mute pauper like her—how dare she speak of dreams?

Then Shen Muxi pulled out a student’s crayon drawing and started painting her a big pie.

Truth be told, she didn’t quite believe she could build the kids a new school herself, but she believed Shen Muxi could.

What truly moved her wasn’t Shen Muxi slumming it in the rundown dorm for a night out of noblesse oblige, nor the red mosquito bites all over her face.

It was that two years ago, Shen Muxi had specially learned sign language to communicate more easily with the deaf-mute children.

She still remembered that morning after waking up, Shen Muxi grumbled at the mirror, asking her—not biting you but only me, are these damn mosquitoes raised by you? Do they hate me for being prettier than you?

She ignored Shen Muxi and took her toiletries to the outdoor public bathroom.

When she came back, she saw the disheveled Shen Muxi already downstairs in the hallway, squatting by the playground signing with two six- or seven-year-old girls.

Shen Muxi had brought a sign language interpreter to the Deaf-Mute School.

When alone with her, Chi Yumo kept her reserved, aloof personality—cold-shouldering her. For necessary communication, she used pointing, not sign language.

Seeing a glamorous entertainment superstar like Shen Muxi treat hearing-impaired children so approachable, setting aside her image to communicate “equally” with sign language, deeply shocked Chi Yumo’s heart.

As she watched in a daze, an older resident female teacher came to wash up—the school’s dean of education.

The dean had no disabilities herself; she had come to the Deaf-Mute School after retiring from a public school, and it had been six years.

—The principal told me. Teacher Shen has taken a liking to you and wants to take you out into the world.

—Teacher Shen is a great philanthropist. She came last winter too. She understands the kids’ sign language and uses it fluently for barrier-free chats. Though they’d only met her once, they all loved her. This past half-year, they’ve rewatched her dramas countless times in their free time.

—It was also because of Teacher Shen that the school got more attention and support from the town government and society. Parents from nearby counties, villages, and towns brought their out-of-school deaf-mute kids flocking here.

—Xiao Chi, you’re different from them. You’re just trapped in a nightmare. Avoidance and hiding aren’t long-term solutions. You won’t escape the nightmare staying here. The world outside is vast; when opportunity comes, enlightenment will follow.

Chi Yumo’s initial reason for “hiding” in the Deaf-Mute School was exhaustion from wandering, at the end of her rope, wanting a quiet, free place to settle her heart—and conveniently learn sign language via her job.

Unexpectedly, she had planned to stay just one or two months but ended up staying nearly three.

Far from city’s hustle, far from worldly trifles, every day was peacefully transcendent.

In these repetitive days of prohibition on copying and pasting, she gained the teachers’ and kids’ purest affections, and her restless, drifting heart finally settled.