A gentle breeze mingled with fine raindrops, unhurriedly tapping against the window frame, bringing a refreshing coolness that soothed the soul.
The misty drizzle shrouded the ancient Old Street in a hazy, poetic ambiance, purifying the heart in its wake.
The woman standing by the window had a slender figure, wrapped in a cotton jacket that wasn’t hers. Her back view appeared even more desolate than the solitary pedestrians wandering in the rain outside.
Even Qiao Ke couldn’t remember how many rainy nights Shi Youwan had spent in the Old House.
Each time, she and Zhang Kai would send her there late at night and pick her up again at six the next morning, doing their best not to disturb the other residents in the building.
If they happened to run into anyone, Qiao Ke would walk ahead and explain that Shi Youwan was the new tenant here, whose job required early departures and late returns.
“Why are you back again?”
Shi Youwan heard the sounds of someone returning outside the door, closed the window, and asked.
Of the Old House keys, the one from the Christmas tree was in Shi Youwan’s possession, while the one Chi Yumo had used was with Qiao Ke.
To avoid disturbing the neighbors, Qiao Ke always let herself in without knocking.
The bedroom door was open. She stood at the doorway and reported, as if discussing daily work: “There’s news on Miss Mo’s latest schedule. She’ll participate in the annual New Fashion Model Contest later this month, consisting of three rounds in total. The first one is on the 18th—that is, the day after tomorrow. The top five from the contest will also head abroad in early October for the New Fashion International Supermodel Grand Finals.”
A few days earlier, Qiao Ke had sent Chi Yumo a friend request, but after waiting many days, it sank like a stone into the sea. Shen Muxi’s company had also done an impeccable job keeping Mo Yu’s schedule under wraps—airtight both online and offline.
On the 14th, she had contacted Shen Muxi’s manager and earnestly requested to share Mo Yu’s itinerary, but she was refused.
She hadn’t been able to get Mo Yu’s assistant’s contact info either. Even if she had obtained or found it, since even the manager refused to talk, how could a little assistant dare to leak anything?
On the 15th—yesterday—Shi Youwan had personally called Shen Muxi. Shen Muxi didn’t agree over the phone but sent her a photo of a psychological counseling center: [Her schedule for today.]
Shi Youwan understood that Shen Muxi sending the photo was a warning: Don’t push too hard.
—Unless she found a key to unlock her heart, or a reassuring pill to calm her mind… be it family, lover, or friend.
What was she to her now?
None of those titles—family, lover, friend—fit her.
While Cheng Xiangxiang, having reunited after a long separation, had Xiao Mo’s contact info, could hang out with Xiao Mo, and stand openly by her side, she had to “play the pitiful card” just to step into Xiao Mo’s room.
“The news leaked online. The 16th is for procedures, the 17th for rehearsal, and the 18th for the official competition.”
The New Fashion Model Contest was a regular event co-hosted by the Art Academy and various parties. It usually only got a live broadcast for the third-round finals, and the buzz lasted just a few days after crowning the top three.
In the age of social media, news flooded in like hairs on an ox. It wasn’t easy for Qiao Ke to spot Mo Yu’s newest sprout amid it all.
“Where’s the contest venue?”
“Lingjiang City.”
“The earliest flight to Lingjiang tomorrow morning.”
“President Shi,” Qiao Ke wasn’t surprised by Shi Youwan’s decision but still had to remind her, “Tomorrow’s the 17th. The groundbreaking ceremony for ‘Oriental Nevernight Harbor’ is at two in the afternoon.”
Last summer, Shi Youwan had pushed through immense pressure from the board of directors despite her illness, ignoring all advice, and signed the cooperation agreement for the “Oriental Nevernight Harbor” project with Shengshi Group.
Then in May this year, that unremarkable second-tier coastal city had suddenly been elevated to the country’s fifth special administrative municipality.
The board rejoiced and praised President Shi for her foresight and wisdom.
Investing 20 billion and acting as a hands-off boss—how could it lose?
“Oriental Nevernight Harbor” was the first diversified cultural-tourism-commercial complex since the city’s elevation and its largest commercial project ever, drawing massive attention.
The flight at 8 a.m. tomorrow, along with hotel stays, banquets, media events, and more on that end, had all been booked days ago.
But Shi Youwan couldn’t wait. If not for the approvals needed for a private jet, she would have flown to Lingjiang overnight.
The air stilled for half a minute. Shi Youwan weighed her options, sat on the bed’s edge, and picked up the phone on the table. “I’ll arrange for someone suitable to go to ‘Nevernight Harbor’ in my place. Just do as I say.”
“Yes, President Shi.”
When the boss got willful, could a subordinate rein her in?
Not only couldn’t they, they had to provide cover and join in the willfulness.
Making money was important, but chasing back the one she thought of day and night was even more so.
No—more important.
President Shi had exhausted herself for the welfare of all Shifeng employees. With so many pillars and loyal ministers in Shifeng Group, it was time for them to hold up the sky for her personal happiness.
Qiao Ke puzzled over it before bed—what was President Shi rushing to Lingjiang City for? To dissuade Miss Mo from competing, or to cheer her on? She still hadn’t figured it out even in her dreams.
At five a.m. amid the utter silence, the light rain fell like poetic veils, scattered and beautiful.
An hour and a half later, the plane broke through the clouds.
The dawn glow on the horizon tinged orange, reminding Shi Youwan of the orange bougainvillea in the Rooftop Garden.
The sun rose in the east, overflowing with orange light. How wonderful it would be to watch sunrises and sunsets with Xiao Mo.
The plane landed at Lingjiang International Airport. Sheng Yingfei called.
“President Shi, it’s eight-thirty. You finally turned on your phone? You ditched me last minute—where’s your credibility? What emergency could be more important than a 50-billion-yuan project? If you don’t give a decent reason, I’m flipping out on you.”
The city leaders placed great importance on this groundbreaking; several would attend. Sheng Yingfei could handle it, but she was furious at Shi Youwan’s last-minute abandonment.
Shi Youwan listened quietly without defending herself, saying only: “I’ve found her.”
Silence for a few seconds on the other end: “Fine. Good luck.”
…
Large-scale events inevitably included press conferences, interviews, and Q&A sessions—meaning Chi Yumo’s inability to speak would be exposed to the public.
They couldn’t use the ridiculous excuse of “doesn’t like talking” to fob everyone off anymore.
From then on, more and more people would call Chi Yumo a “mute.” Some with pity, some contempt, some mockery.
Worse, some would dig into why she had lost her voice.
Certain shady media and keyboard warriors had no moral bottom line.
Shi Youwan didn’t want Chi Yumo prancing on stage in revealing swimsuits under the gaze of thousands of strangers, nor did she want her caught in a storm of public opinion over her lost voice.
So, upon leaving the airport, she called Shen Muxi: “I’m in Lingjiang. I need to talk to you. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
Shen Muxi hadn’t taken any work this past week or so.
Partly to rest, partly to keep an eye on the model contest and back Chi Yumo up, lest she get bullied.
If Chi Yumo was mistreated in the group, it was a slap to Shen Muxi’s face, no matter who did it.
She had slept in today. After washing up and sitting down for breakfast, she got Shi Youwan’s call.
This woman really was “devoted”—chasing her all the way to Lingjiang.
“President Shi, up so early? Here specially for breakfast?” Shen Muxi teased. “Come to my place then. Breakfast’s still hot; I saved you a portion.”
As for Shi Youran, Shen Muxi had yesterday let slip a real “fake rumor” through her.
Someone had been spotted at the Capital Airport looking very much like President Shi’s long-lost personal bodyguard.
After confirming from Shi Youran that Shi Youwan was searching for someone, Shen Muxi had matched Chi Yumo the next day to the little bodyguard who picked up Shi Youwan after that charity gala years ago.
Bodyguard lover.
What a dramatic, melodramatic plot.
Before Shi Youwan arrived, Shen Muxi sent the housekeeper out.
Once inside, Shi Youwan got straight to the point: “Muxi, I’m here to earnestly request that you cancel Mo Yu’s participation in the model contest. If she lacks runway or magazine gigs, I’ll arrange them.”
Runways and magazines had high starting points, without the drama of contest schedules.
Shen Muxi scoffed: “President Shi, aren’t you overstepping? Do you think, with my status in the industry, I’d lack connections or resources for those? This is the path Mo Yu chose herself. She wants to climb step by step, solidly.”
Seeing Shi Youwan’s darkened expression, lips pressed into a thin line—probably self-tormenting a thousand times over in her head.
Shen Muxi didn’t bother beating around the bush: “As for explaining why she can’t speak, Mo Yu, the company, and I have agreed: We’ll say it’s a sequela from a Susceptible Period—sudden onset aphonia. She’s accepted it calmly, actively undergoing psychological therapy, facing life’s difficulties, setbacks, and trials optimistically. Whether her voice recovers is up to fate—no resentment toward heaven or people.”
Shen Muxi had accompanied Chi Yumo for all three therapy sessions so far.
The result from the 15th wasn’t ideal either.
“So, as long as Mo Yu doesn’t want to participate, neither you nor the company will force her, right?”
“…” Was Shi Youwan hard of hearing?
“Muxi, no matter what you’ve guessed or what she’s told you, I just want to tell you: No one hopes less harm comes to her than I do. Even verbal harm—I have zero tolerance.”
“…” Then you’re probably powerless. Powerless over Mo Yu, powerless over netizens. Shen Muxi grumbled inwardly.
Shi Youwan came and went in a rush, not even drinking a sip of water.
Sequela from a Susceptible Period?
Shi Youwan didn’t know if it was true, but she still blamed herself.
Because during Xiao Mo’s Susceptible Period a year ago, she had heartlessly pushed her away.
The “negotiations” with Shen Muxi failed, deepening Shi Youwan’s unease.
Xiao Mo’s stubborn streak had been triggered.
Xiao Mo was no longer the compliant little lover who obeyed her every whim. Her interference would only backfire, wouldn’t it?
Back in the car, Qiao Ke asked: “President Shi, why don’t you rest at the hotel first?”
Shi Youwan massaged her brow.
Qiao Ke added: “It’s just three kilometers from the hotel where Miss Mo and the others are staying.”
Since yesterday, the 30 contestants had been uniformly housed in the committee-arranged hotel, with no private overnight stays allowed during the contest.
The committee’s budget was tight, so it was a three-star hotel. Naturally, Qiao Ke had booked Shi Youwan a five-star suite.
“Mm. When does the rehearsal end? I want to see Xiao Mo.”
“Well, Miss Shen wouldn’t leak the info. I’ll have to work some connections at the venue.”
“Good. As soon as possible. Anything money can solve, don’t dawdle.”
