Chapter 60: Turning Bad Part 2

They were all her textbooks from before she turned ten. Her parents hadn’t been willing to throw a single one away and had preserved them all.

Unfortunately, overnight, everything had changed. Huang Biao had torn through every one of those books.

That whole family was like a pack of vampires. The parents had gotten her own parents killed, and the son had gone on to wreck everything she owned. Anything he could find, he had trashed without mercy.

After she had scared off Liu Li and her family by pretending to be a ghost, Gu An’an had secretly taken each book and taped it back together, then carefully replaced them on the shelf.

She pulled open the drawer. It had been wiped spotless, containing only a single picture frame.

It was a photo of her with her parents.

Gu An’an wheeled in after her.

“Little Ran, you’re heading off to school soon, aren’t you? Are you a little reluctant to leave home?”

Chu Ran closed the drawer and forced a casual smile. “Not really. Wherever Sister An’an is, that’s home.”

The words carried a double meaning that Gu An’an couldn’t catch, but her heart softened at Chu Ran’s tragic background. She reached out and took her hand.

“Don’t be sad anymore, Little Ran. The bad people got what was coming to them. No one will bully you again. Go off to school with peace of mind—I’ll hold down the fort here at home…”

She cooed softly to comfort her.

Chu Ran loved being comforted like this, so she stayed quiet, simply listening.

When Gu An’an finally paused, Chu Ran put on a pitiful expression and said to her, “Sister An’an, I’ve got no mom or dad—only you. You can’t leave me, or I’ll be so miserable. How about we go to the hospital tomorrow for another checkup?”

Gu An’an didn’t understand how those two things were connected, hesitating as she said, “Didn’t we just have one not long ago?”

Chu Ran just wanted to coax her into getting the Balance Agent injection. “One more check will put my mind at ease. Otherwise, I’ll keep worrying, and I won’t be able to focus on school.”

Gu An’an still hesitated. She was afraid of spending money.

Her previous salary had long since been spent, and now that she was paralyzed, she couldn’t even do something as simple as picking through trash.

Every penny they spent now came from the money Chu Ran’s parents had left behind.

It made her feel awful, utterly useless—not only could she not earn any money, but she was burning through Chu Ran’s like a bottomless pit!

But Chu Ran wheedled and pleaded until she finally agreed to go for the checkup.

The next day, Gu An’an went along in a daze, and the doctor gave her the Balance Agent injection.

Chu Ran’s wallet shrank down to three million all at once, but her heart finally settled.

This one shot was a lifesaver. It ensured Gu An’an would no longer be in mortal danger.

She headed to the attending doctor’s office to ask about follow-up care instructions.

Once Chu Ran had left, Gu An’an immediately grabbed a nurse and asked about the cost this time. The nurse tried to brush her off at first, but after repeated pleading, she gave in and quoted a fraction of the actual amount, just as Chu Ran had instructed.

“I’m not entirely sure, but probably around five thousand or so.”

It was barely a sliver of the real cost.

Gu An’an’s face fell at once.

Her monthly salary before quitting had only been five thousand.

Just one injection and some rehab therapy, and it cost five thousand?!

“Will insurance cover it? Or is that the reimbursed price?”

The nurse replied, “Your insurance lapsed. Your sister said your company didn’t pay this month’s premium. Even if they do now, you can’t use it until next month.”

But after she was hospitalized, HR had known she was sick and stamped her resignation like they were eager to be rid of a plague. No matter how you sliced it, they should have paid that month’s insurance for her.

Without insurance, all the money Little Ran had spent on her would be down the drain—no reimbursement at all?

Gu An’an’s heart sank.

She had worked so hard at the company, not only handling her own tasks but volunteering to take on her colleagues’ workloads too. She thought the company appreciated her efforts, but now that something had happened to her, they had fired her on the spot and wouldn’t even pay that final month’s insurance.

The more she thought about it, the sadder she became.

She didn’t know what she had done wrong. The world seemed especially cruel to her.

“Sister An’an, all done. Let’s head back.”

Chu Ran hurried over, and she quickly wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.

Only Chu Ran was good to her. She couldn’t let her worry anymore.

Chu Ran pushed her out of the hospital.

The sun blazed overhead, and the summer wind carried a stifling heat that dried out her face.

A few students stood in clusters outside the milk tea shop at the entrance, chattering away like a flock of happy little birds.

Chu Ran leaned close to her ear. “Want some milk tea? I’ll go buy it.”

“No.” Gu An’an refused without hesitation.

Her mood was low, and anything involving spending money made her uncomfortable.

As Chu Ran pushed her past the milk tea shop, two girls glanced over, their eyes landing on the wheelchair.

“Look at her—she’s pretty cute, but too bad she’s crippled. So pitiful!”

It was a voice laced with pity and disdain, low but clear enough to hear.

Gu An’an ducked her head in panic.

In that moment, she felt utterly hideous.

Chu Ran shot the two girls a glare.

But it only drew laughter from them.

“That tall, handsome girl is looking at me! She wouldn’t be into that, would she?”

Chu Ran pushed Gu An’an away quickly.

She stood anxiously at the roadside, hailing taxis, but the first three that passed saw the wheelchair and drove right on by.

They thought it was too much trouble.

Chu Ran regretted not booking a Didi in advance.

She had just left campus, and her life experience was still too limited.

Those girls’ words had been so cutting. Sister An’an must have been hurting in secret.

Her anxiety mounted as she kept trying to flag down cars, but the drivers just waved and left.

Just then, a black sedan turned from the opposite lane and pulled up in front of them.

The window rolled down, revealing a strikingly beautiful face. It was Qian Hao.

“Chu Ran, Sister An’an—having trouble getting a cab?”

“Let me give you a ride.”

Chu Ran met her eyes for a moment and nodded firmly. “Sure.”

She scooped Gu An’an up right away and settled her in the back seat, buckling her seatbelt.

Then she folded the wheelchair and stowed it in the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat.

Qian Hao instructed the driver, “To Huimin Neighborhood.”

Gu An’an murmured a quiet thank you. Only after getting in did she realize this wasn’t like any sedan she’d ridden in before. The back had just two seats—independent ones, at that.

Spacious and comfortable, the kind that looked understated but felt luxuriously high-end the moment you sat down.

She sneaked a couple of touches on the armrest. Real leather, with an amazing feel. She grew even more ill at ease.

She stole a careful glance at Qian Hao.

Today, she wore a black strapless dress that bared her fair, rounded shoulders and the elegant lines of her slender arms. Her long, glossy dark curls were swept to one side, exposing delicate, cute ears.

A pair of exquisite stud earrings adorned them, and a teardrop necklace dangled from her snowy, slender neck.

Gu An’an guessed they were diamonds.

Qian Hao had on flawless makeup today, making her already bold, glamorous features so stunning they were hard to look at directly.

Her posture was elegantly regal, exuding the cool aura of a wealthy heiress.

Gu An’an suddenly felt like an ugly duckling sitting next to her.

She hardly dared speak.

Fortunately, Qian Hao took the initiative. “Sister An’an, how’d the checkup go?”

“It’s fine. Thank you so much, Qian Hao, for the ride.” Gu An’an thanked her again, flustered and deferential.

Qian Hao glanced at her.

It was probably Gu An’an’s first time in a luxury car. She sat rigidly upright, back stiff, not daring to lean against the seatback.

A sour feeling stirred in Qian Hao’s chest.

How had an ordinary girl who hadn’t even gone to college caught Chu Ran’s eye?

Just because she was such a good person?

Perhaps sensing her gaze, Gu An’an grew even more reserved. She made small talk to fill the silence. “Qian Hao, have you and Little Ran set a date to head to the capital yet?”

Qian Hao immediately glanced at Chu Ran in the passenger seat. Chu Ran had shrugged off her long-sleeved shirt, revealing the pure white T-shirt underneath. Her head was bowed, her fingers twisting the shirt into knots—no one knew what she was up to.

She hadn’t said a single word to Qian Hao since getting in the car.

Qian Hao turned her face away with a huff. “Sister An’an, you should ask Chu Ran about that. I have no idea who she plans to go with.”

Gu An’an blinked, not grasping her meaning.

Chu Ran reached over from the passenger seat, handing something across.

“Hold this, Sister An’an.”

Gu An’an and Qian Hao both looked over. To their surprise, it was a makeshift rope twisted from Chu Ran’s shirt!

Qian Hao stared in astonishment. “Chu Ran, what on earth are you doing?”

Chu Ran smiled faintly. “The doctor said holding something in your hands helps you stay calm.”

Gu An’an felt a flush of embarrassment. “Qian Hao, Little Ran’s just having a childish tantrum. She’s playing around.”

Even as she said it, her hand reached out and grasped the other end of the shirt.

She soothed Chu Ran gently. “Little Ran, we’ll be home soon~”

Gu An’an assumed it was all in fun. Little did she know that, in Qian Hao’s eyes, the whole scene was enough to sour her stomach with jealousy.

Chu Ran’s explanation was pure nonsense!

She had simply noticed Gu An’an’s tension—her first time in a luxury car, probably feeling out of place—and so she’d eagerly stripped off her own shirt to give her something to cling to.

This was her way of providing an escort, watching over her.