You Must Be Good 89

Chapter 89

Qiao Xiaoxiao slowly woke up in the familiar warmth.

Her sister’s scent enveloped her like a light gauze, with a reassuring warmth. The black nightmares that had entangled her for so long finally dissipated. But the moment her consciousness returned, she heard herself murmur “Mommy” in her dream.

When she opened her eyes, she met Chu Xinrou’s focused gaze. She didn’t know how long those eyes had been staring at her, the gentleness in them almost overflowing. Qiao Xiaoxiao’s nose tingled, and she hurriedly buried her face in her sister’s neck.

Chu Xinrou’s fingertips gently stroked Xiaoxiao’s hair. She lowered her eyelashes, a hint of heartache in her eyes.

Xiaoxiao’s “Mommy” was not just something she had said in her dream.

She had said it in her sleep, murmuring it several times. Although it was very soft, every word was like a knock on Chu Xinrou’s heart.

This was what she longed for in the depths of her heart, right?

Chu Xinrou really did as she had said. She did not disturb Qiao Xiaoxiao.

When Qiao Xiaoxiao was curled up in bed, sad and alone, Chu Xinrou would be by the window not far away, either holding a yellowed book or drawing a few ink strokes with a brush. The sunlight filtered through the window lattice, casting fine shadows on her lowered eyelashes. When she occasionally looked up, her gaze would always fall on Xiaoxiao first, giving her a sufficient sense of security.

Every night, when that depressive black emotion spread, Chu Xinrou would hold Qiao Xiaoxiao tightly in her arms, enveloping her in her own scent, driving away all the pain.

In her sister’s arms, Xiaoxiao almost never had insomnia. When her mood was a little better, Chu Xinrou would take her out for a walk.

She had never really seen this small mountain village. In the past, when Chu Xinrou had come to sketch, she had only stood in the valley to paint.

At the beginning, Xiaoxiao didn’t talk much. It was mostly Chu Xinrou’s voice.

“Look at that old locust tree. I always loved to take a nap in its shade when I was sketching. Once, when I woke up, I found two kingfishers on my drawing board. They had mistaken the bamboo I had drawn for a real one.”

“In the valley, that’s actually where I first met you. You seemed to be gathering herbs at that time. You fell, and your hands were all cut, but you didn’t cry. You stood up by yourself.”

Qiao Xiaoxiao stared at her sister in a daze. How come she had no impression of this?

Chu Xinrou’s gaze was soft. “At that time, you were so thin and small. After you took off your dirty clothes, your arms were covered in bruises.”

Perhaps, from that time on, the desire to protect had already welled up in her heart.

The fate between people is just that strange.

Later, Chu Xinrou would never have thought that the girl who had made her heart ache that day would be entangled with her for the rest of her life.

“There’s a bluestone slab over there… that’s where I was bitten by a snake.”

Hearing this, Qiao Xiaoxiao turned around abruptly, her pupils suddenly contracting. She had heard from the villagers before that this was how her sister had become connected to Wuliu Village, but she had never dared to ask why it had happened.

Chu Xinrou looked at the distance calmly, the sunlight shattering into shimmering waves in her eyes. “It hurt a lot,” a dazed smile appeared on her lips. “But it stopped hurting soon. The last thought I had before I fainted was actually… this is good too. I can finally rest.”

At that time, Chu Xinrou was being torn apart by her family and relatives. Day after day, year after year, those invisible shackles had dug into her flesh, tearing her soul into pieces.

There was no way out, no salvation. Even her cries of pain were swallowed back down her throat.

Qiao Xiaoxiao suddenly reached out and pulled her into her embrace, her thin shoulders trembling. “Jiejie…” This one call was soaked with heartache.

Chu Xinrou closed her eyes in her neck, her eyelashes brushing against a patch of warm skin. “Xiaoxiao.”

Her voice was as soft as a sigh. “Actually, Xu Keqing… is not my biological mother.”

This sentence was like a clap of thunder, striking Qiao Xiaoxiao’s heart. She trembled violently, and even her breathing stopped.

This secret, even Chu Fengyi did not know. In fact, perhaps even Chu Yunji and Xu Keqing thought that she didn’t know either.

How she wished that she really didn’t know.

Chu Xinrou had always been the best at forbearance. Those bloody past events, that bone-deep pain, were all carefully sewn under her skin. But at this moment, facing Xiaoxiao’s tears, she had personally torn open that long-scabbed wound, as if only such a bloody honesty could make the person in her arms understand—you see, we are both wounded, Xiaoxiao. You are not alone.

Qiao Xiaoxiao cried. She hugged her sister and cried her heart out. This time, it was not for herself, but for her sister’s heartache.

Chu Xinrou hugged her, her eyes moist. She had originally said this secret to comfort Xiaoxiao, but why were the grievances that had been sealed in the depths of her soul for so many years now growing wildly like vines in spring? She gently rested her forehead on Xiaoxiao’s thin shoulder, letting the tears that had been suppressed for so many years slide down quietly.

The evening wind swept through the treetops.

The two wounded souls held each other tightly, standing in the wind as each other’s most solid support.

…

With her sister’s company, Xiaoxiao was much better. She actually wanted to ask her sister about her family, but she was afraid of opening up the old wounds in her heart.

Xiaoxiao would sometimes think, when she was in so much pain, she had her sister to accompany her with incomparable consideration.

But what about back then?

Back then, when her sister knew everything, when she was all alone, how had she gotten through it?

In the following few days, they would often wander in the mountains, watching the wild flowers sway in the wind and listening to the rustling of the grass.

More often than not, the two of them would just sit on the stone bench in the small courtyard.

Qiao Xiaoxiao stared at the rolling mountains in the distance in a daze. The past events that had settled in the years were faintly visible in her eyes, like the flowing morning mist in the mountains. The sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the old locust tree, casting a dappled shadow on her face.

Chu Xinrou gently leaned on her shoulder, a faint, fresh scent of soapberry in her hair. She was humming an unknown ancient tune, her singing voice like a wisp of light smoke, rising in the afternoon breeze and then quietly dissipating between the mottled courtyard walls.

In this gentle company, the surging hostility in Qiao Xiaoxiao’s heart also gradually subsided like a receding tide. Chu Xinrou’s gentleness was like water, bit by bit moistening her cracked heart.

In fact, it was hard to say who was saving whom.

They were like two vines growing intertwined, healing each other’s scars in their embrace.

On the fourth day, Xiaoxiao finally had the courage to go and see Wang Su.

Before she left, she held her sister’s hand and said softly, “Don’t worry.”

Chu Xinrou looked into her eyes and nodded.

Under the old locust tree, Qiao Banshan’s figure was faintly visible in the swirling smoke. These days, that brass pipe had almost grown onto his hand. When he smoked too hard, he would bend over and cough violently, as if he were about to cough out all his internal organs.

Qiao Xiaoxiao stopped as she passed by. The morning light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting fine specks of light on her face. “You should smoke less.”

Qiao Banshan looked up with his cloudy eyes and met his niece’s clear eyes. The corners of Qiao Xiaoxiao’s lips lifted slightly. “I’m much better, Uncle.” That smile was not deep, but it was very real.

It was like this.

It seemed that every time Chu Xinrou came, she would make Xiaoxiao much better.

Qiao Banshan watched his niece’s retreating figure until that figure disappeared at the entrance of the alley. He took a heavy drag from his last cigarette, knocked the pipe on the stone steps, and only then did he get up and walk towards Chu Xinrou.

Chu Xinrou was sitting upright in the wicker chair, her fingertips gently resting on the yellowed pages of a book. The sunlight filtered through the porch, outlining a cold silhouette around her. That innate authority made Qiao Banshan stop dead in his tracks five steps away. The light sound of the book closing broke the stagnant air. When she looked up, her gaze was as sharp as the autumn water.

“Is there something?” The short question startled the hesitant Qiao Banshan. His rough knuckles unconsciously stroked his pipe, his Adam’s apple bobbing a few times. “A few days ago… thank you.”

In the shadows of the porch, Chu Xinrou’s fingertips gently tapped the spine of the book. When that crazy woman Huang Sulan had caused a storm, it was she who had nonchalantly mediated and had finally settled the divorce agreement. And all of this, she had never mentioned to Xiaoxiao.

“Are you going to help out at Xiaoxiao’s place?” She suddenly changed the subject, her voice showing no joy or anger. The studio was indeed short-staffed, and this arrangement was reasonable, although she disliked the man before her from the bottom of her heart. Even though he had been the one to lead Xiaoxiao out of the cowshed back then, she still couldn’t bring herself to like him.

He’s a big man. If he really wanted to protect Xiaoxiao, how could he have let her be beaten again and again?

She closed her eyes and suppressed the surging emotions in her heart.

“I was thinking of going to Xiaoxiao’s place, or Nuonuo’s place is also fine…” Qiao Banshan’s voice grew softer, and a look of hesitation appeared on his wrinkled face. He was over fifty and had only just taken this step. He couldn’t help but be nervous.

Chu Xinrou rarely comforted him. “You’re still competent enough to guard the door.”

Qiao Banshan: …

Xiaoxiao’s wish, Chu Xinrou understood it all too well.

Although she longed for money, she was not greedy.

What she had wanted from beginning to end was to be able to let her family live a good life, to be able to take good care of Nuonuo, and to not have to worry about making a living anymore.

Other than that, even though she was well-off now, Xiaoxiao still maintained that simplicity. There was not a single designer item in her closet, and she could eat a bowl of plain noodles she had cooked herself with relish.

Chu Xinrou understood Qiao Xiaoxiao, but Wang Su did not.

When she saw her daughter appear at the hotel entrance, her whole being stood up as if electrocuted, her hands trembling uncontrollably.

Qiao Xiaoxiao looked at her calmly, her eyes calm.

Wang Su knew that this meeting had not been easy to come by, her voice trembling. “Xiaoxiao… it was Mommy’s fault back then, but at that time, I really had no other choice. I couldn’t take both of you sisters with me…”

If she hadn’t left one behind, Qiao Wanshan’s anger would have had no outlet, and he would have definitely gone crazy looking for them everywhere. Neither of them would have been able to leave.

Qiao Xiaoxiao’s eyes were downcast, and she was silent.

“These… these years, Mommy has been working hard,” Wang Su eagerly took half a step forward. “Now my career is successful. You’re still in university, right? You don’t have to work so hard in the future. Mommy will compensate you well. I heard that Qingxin is looking for a place. I can—”

“Yes, I’m already in university.”

Qiao Xiaoxiao interrupted softly. These words were as if she were talking to Wang Su, and also to herself.

How ironic.

She had been absent for a whole childhood.

In her mother’s mouth, the abandonment back then was just a light and easy “had no choice.” Now she wanted to write it off with money?

Wang Su was hurt by her daughter’s dim gaze and was at a loss. “Mommy knows you’re very outstanding now… but, but you don’t have to work so hard. I’m back.”

“I’m used to it.”

Qiao Xiaoxiao’s tone was distant. She carefully studied Wang Su’s face and suddenly felt that blood ties were a terrible thing. Even after being abandoned for so many years, even after never having met—their eyes, their brows, were still exactly the same.

“I don’t need compensation,” Qiao Xiaoxiao looked up at Wang Su. “And I won’t forgive you.”

“Don’t come looking for me again. Don’t disturb my current life again.”

“Without you, I survived. And I’m doing very well now.”

It’s best if we never see each other again.

Some scars cannot be erased with a light and easy touch.

She couldn’t do it.

The light in Wang Su’s eyes dimmed a little. She lowered her head and murmured, “I know…”

She knew that the past could not be so easily turned over.

She knew that she would not be forgiven so easily.

She had expected it but had not dared to hope for it.

The revolving door of the hotel cut the harsh sunlight into fragments. Qiao Xiaoxiao stood at the junction of light and shadow, her hand tightly clutching a faded cloth doll.

Her knuckles were white from the excessive force, as if she wanted to knead this small doll into her own flesh and blood.

Tears streamed down her raised face, forming a precarious droplet on her chin.

This was the only thing related to her daughter that Wang Su had taken with her when she had left—Xiaoxiao’s favorite toy as a child.

The cotton cloth of the doll had turned yellow, and the seams were worn, the cotton stuffing almost exposed.

Qiao Xiaoxiao pressed the doll to her cheek, trembling. The rough cloth scraped her skin. Just like when she was a child, she gently kissed the doll and sang the familiar nursery rhyme with a choke, “Sleep, sleep, my dear baby, sleep, sleep, Mommy loves you…”

Unconsciously.

Tears streamed down her face.