That evening, Wen Xuelan wouldn’t take no for an answer and insisted that Wennuan stay the night.
Wennuan happily agreed.
Chu Xingxing took Wennuan back to her own room to help her find a change of clothes.
They were about the same height. Although Chu Xingxing was slimmer, she had brought several oversized T-shirts she hadn’t worn yet that could serve as pajamas for Wennuan.
“Sister Xiaonuan, let me grab you a pair of slippers too. They’re brand new, I haven’t worn them.” Chu Xingxing crouched in front of her suitcase and fished out a pair of dark green slippers shaped like little dinosaurs with their mouths wide open.
She had bought them in a bulk order on a certain 688 site.
As it turned out, the owner of the villa the production team had rented was very thoughtful and had prepared brand-new, unopened slippers for every room.
So Chu Xingxing never even unwrapped the slippers she had brought herself.
She noticed that Wennuan had been wearing knee-high socks and leather shoes the whole time, even indoors without changing into slippers. She assumed Wennuan was a bit of a germaphobe and didn’t want to wear shoes provided by others.
“Thanks, Xingxing,” Wennuan said, taking the cute little dinosaur slippers. She didn’t change into them right away, though. Looking a little embarrassed, she asked, “Would it be okay if I used your bathroom to freshen up?”
“Of course! Let me show you where everything is.” Chu Xingxing pulled a clean, large bath towel from the closet and led Wennuan to the bathroom in her room. “This is the facial cleanser, this is the body wash. The shampoo and conditioner are a two-in-one, in this bottle. Hmm, and the hair dryer is over here…”
After pointing everything out, Chu Xingxing considerately stepped out of the bathroom. “Sister Xiaonuan, take your time washing up. I’m not in a rush for the bathroom, and I won’t be going to sleep that early anyway.”
With that, she closed the bathroom door behind her.
Before long, the sound of running water came from inside.
—
In the bedroom, Chu Xingxing put on her earphones and started listening to the script for Shining Flowers.
Once this trip was over, she’d have to head straight back to Beijing to join the film crew and attend a few commercial events.
Her previous laid-back, leisurely life seemed to be fading away.
While listening, Chu Xingxing began doing the pre-sleep calming stretch routine that Grandma Ai Minli had taught her.
Ever since she started learning the post-meal digestion exercises and pre-sleep calming stretches from Grandma Ai Minli, Chu Xingxing had noticed a significant improvement in her digestion. After finishing this soothing nighttime stretch, her sleep quality was exceptionally good too.
Completing two sets took exactly half an hour.
Her body was slightly warm, and all her muscles and joints felt completely relaxed.
Chu Xingxing wasn’t just playing her own scenes on a loop in her earphones; she was cycling through the scripts of the other characters before and after hers as well.
Since she had chosen this career, she believed it was essential to thoroughly understand the script, carefully study the character, as well as the lines, motivations, body language, and psychological depth of the characters she’d be acting opposite.
Not being a professionally trained actress, she knew she had to work harder than others to be worthy of the people who liked her.
The sound of running water in the bathroom had stopped for quite a while.
After a bit more time passed, Chu Xingxing took off her earphones, stood up, and pulled a moxa stick out of her suitcase.
This was a gift from Grandma Sheng Shuwen. The old babies had a surprise for her every single day.
Grandma Sheng had said that the island’s climate was humid and hot, making it easy for dampness to accumulate in the body and cause summer colds. So she’d given Chu Xingxing a set consisting of her personal moxa sticks and a travel moxibustion box.
Grandma Sheng had also added, “Especially for a young girl like you, if your lower back feels sore and uncomfortable right before your period, a little moxibustion can bring you a lot of relief.”
It just so happened that Chu Xingxing’s period was approaching, so she decided to try it tonight.
Opening the window, Chu Xingxing took off her top, remaining in just her sports bra, and began applying moxibustion to her Guanyuan, Sanyinjiao, and Zusanli acupoints. This was her first time doing it on her own. Grandma Sheng had taught her the night before, and that warm, cozy feeling really was incredibly comfortable.
After a short while of moxibustion, she glanced at the bathroom. It seemed like there hadn’t been any movement from inside for some time.
It had been a while, and Chu Xingxing worried that Wennuan might need something but felt too shy to ask.
Holding up the moxa stick, Chu Xingxing gently knocked on the bathroom door. “Sister Xiaonuan, do you need anything? If you need something, just tell me. I’ll find it for you. I pack super thoroughly.”
A few seconds later, the bathroom door opened a crack.
A wave of moist, steamy air drifted out.
Wennuan had already changed into Chu Xingxing’s long T-shirt. Her long black hair was dripping wet; it looked like she hadn’t dried it yet.
“Oh, Sister Xiaonuan, did you not find the hair dryer? I wasn’t very clear earlier. It’s actually in here…” Chu Xingxing was about to show her that the hair dryer was in the drawer beneath the bathroom counter.
But as she looked down, Chu Xingxing froze.
She saw Wennuan standing barefoot on the floor, not wearing the slippers she had given her.
And on Wennuan’s slender, pale feet and calves were numerous dark, dot-like scars.
They looked like they had been made by cigarette burns…
Chu Xingxing had found it a little strange before. In this kind of humid, hot island climate, unless you were hiking in the mountains, everyone usually wore flip-flops or sandals.
Yet the first time she met Wennuan, she was wearing thick socks and Mary Jane shoes.
And every time they met after that, Wennuan always wore long socks and leather shoes, never once showing her feet.
“Sister Xiaonuan, what’s wrong…?” Chu Xingxing looked up and only then realized that Wennuan was staring at the smoking moxa stick with eyes full of terror.
Wennuan didn’t react to Chu Xingxing’s words. Her whole body seemed to stiffen, her breathing quickened, and her eyes flickered, blinking rapidly.
Following Wennuan’s gaze, Chu Xingxing looked down at the smoldering, crimson tip of the moxa stick burning in her hand.
A silent alarm went off in her head: Oh no…
It seemed she hadn’t been mistaken when they parted last time.
Wennuan likely suffered from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder related to a specific event or person.
PTSD was a very common mental disorder among the suicide squad members in the post-apocalyptic world, requiring regular psychological counseling and intervention.
As team captain, Chu Xingxing had often accompanied her squad mates to intervention therapy and had learned some basic intervention procedures.
In Wennuan’s case, the burning moxa stick was clearly the trigger that brought back memories of certain traumas.
Wennuan’s current state was a classic freeze response—a defensive crouch.
It was similar to how a rabbit in the wild, when caught in a bright light, freezes completely even though it knows the danger.
Chu Xingxing immediately extinguished the moxa stick in her hand, turned on the ceiling exhaust fan, and let the smoky, mugwort-scented air disperse.
Luckily, she had only been doing the moxibustion by the window for a short while, so the smoky smell in the room wasn’t too strong.
Then, she took out the lavender sleep spray that Grandma Jiang Yao had given her and spritzed it around the room, letting the calming scent of lavender take over.
After doing all this, Chu Xingxing returned to the bathroom, crouched down to help Wennuan put on the little dinosaur slippers, took her hand, and slowly led her over to the bed. She gently helped her sit down.
Finally, Wennuan’s expression slowly returned to normal.
“Sister Xiaonuan, are you feeling a bit better? Don’t be scared, don’t be scared. The thing you didn’t like is gone.”
Chu Xingxing patted her back very gently, her voice full of concern.
“I’m sorry, Xingxing…” Wennuan shook her head, looking dejected, and held her forehead in her hands.
“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t know you had an aversion to moxa sticks.”
Chu Xingxing patted her shoulder, then stood up, went to the small fridge in the room, and took out a bottle of apple juice. She shook it gently. “Would you like something sweet to drink? It can lift your mood a lot. I forgot to give you a disposable toothbrush earlier, so you haven’t brushed your teeth yet anyway, right? I kind of want some. Will you have just a little with me, Sister Xiaonuan?”
“Okay, thank you, Xingxing.” Wennuan didn’t refuse.
“We’ll split it half and half.” Chu Xingxing selected a colorful iridescent glass, poured the juice into the glass, and kept the bottle for herself. She handed the pretty glass to Wennuan.
In the psychological therapy room back at Chu Xingxing’s unit, the drinking cups were always bright, cheerful colors, and the tables always had chocolates, candies, and fresh flowers on them.
Eating sweets could stimulate dopamine secretion, helping to relieve anxiety and unease.
Although she didn’t know what Wennuan had gone through, all Chu Xingxing could do right now was quietly stay by her side.
The two of them sat side by side for a while.
Wennuan took a sip of the icy cold, sweet apple juice and slowly began to speak. “Xiao Xingxing, are you very curious why I’m so afraid of burning smoke?”
“Hmm…” Chu Xingxing nodded, being completely honest.
She really wanted to know what had happened in Wennuan’s past. A gentle, beautiful sister like her, coming from a family like the Wens—a family with such a warm atmosphere—why had Wennuan left them without a word all those years ago?
Chu Xingxing couldn’t figure it out.
But seeing the shocking scars on Wennuan’s feet and legs, Chu Xingxing couldn’t help but think of many, many terrible things.
Wen Nuan downed the rest of the apple juice in her glass, stood up from the bed, took off Chu Xingxing’s long T-shirt, and raised her arms.
Chu Xingxing gasped sharply.
Under Wennuan’s armpits, on her inner thighs, on her back…
There were similar scars, as if from cigarette burns.
“Who did this?!” Chu Xingxing clenched her fists, her voice nearly trembling.
Wennuan’s gaze seemed unfocused. As if telling someone else’s story, she began recounting what had happened all those years ago.
This was a secret Wennuan had buried deep in her heart for over twenty years. She herself didn’t know why she was able to open up to a twenty-year-old girl.
Perhaps it was because this young woman named Chu Xingxing had such sincere, bright eyes and a strong, kind heart.
She made people instinctively want to get close to her and rely on her.
—
Twenty-nine years ago, Yu City.
On her thirteenth birthday, Xiaonuan felt she had received the best birthday gift of her life—she had a family.
In the Yu City of that era, it was very difficult for girls in the orphanage to be adopted, and Xiaonuan was no exception.
Not even though she was pretty, smart, and good at drawing.
When prospective parents came to the orphanage to “select” a child, the most common response they gave to the director’s recommendation was: “It would be great if this little girl were a boy.”
Indeed, a smart, pretty girl wasn’t even as sought-after as a boy with an obvious intellectual disability.
Simply because of the other child’s gender: male.
Over time, the director, whom they all called “Mama,” gave up on finding a foster family for Xiaonuan.
Xiaonuan and she got along so well; she’d just keep raising her. Older girls were hard to place for adoption anyway, and the director couldn’t bear to let her go.
Among the children in the orphanage who were as old as Xiaonuan and hadn’t been adopted, besides those with obvious physical disabilities or illnesses, there was one other exception.
He was a healthy boy, a few months younger than Xiaonuan. The note left with him when he was abandoned said his name was Xiao Xiang. After coming to the orphanage, like the other children there, he took the surname Dang.
Dang Xiaoxiang was different from Xiaonuan. When he was little, plenty of people wanted to adopt him.
At five years old, Dang Xiaoxiang was an adorable, sturdy little guy with big eyes, a tall nose, and naturally curly hair. Everyone who saw him liked him. He had been left at the orphanage gate by his single mother.
After spending a few months at the orphanage and completing the paperwork, Xiaoxiang had become Xiaonuan’s little shadow. He wouldn’t even sleep without clutching the hem of Xiaonuan’s shirt.
Xiaonuan had always been a sensible, soft-hearted child. She was particularly caring towards new children and had always looked after this little brother, who was only a few months younger than her.
Logically, a healthy little boy of Dang Xiaoxiang’s age should have been the easiest to adopt out.
After he’d been at the orphanage for a few months, the director began arranging his adoption process.
However, not long after, a strange thing started happening at the orphanage.
Whenever Dang Xiaoxiang’s adoption process began, it always went very smoothly at first. But shortly after he was taken in by an adoptive family, he would be returned to the orphanage.
Once, twice, three times…
The director observed for a while and realized Dang Xiaoxiang was doing it on purpose, just so he wouldn’t be separated from Xiaonuan.
No matter how many times the director lectured him, even threatening him with a paddle, Dang Xiaoxiang was utterly impervious. He’d just throw tantrums and act out wildly in whatever household took him in, causing as much chaos as possible. He even pretended to be “possessed by a ghost,” scaring the adoptive families so badly they couldn’t wait to send the little boy back to the orphanage overnight.
As time went on, the only two healthy “long-term residents” left in the orphanage were Xiaonuan and Xiaoxiang.
The difference was, Xiaonuan wasn’t wanted by anyone and yearned for a home in her heart.
Xiaoxiang simply refused to be adopted; he had decided that the orphanage was his home.
This balance was shattered when Xiaonuan was chosen to film Yucheng Memories.
The famous actress Wen Xuelan was strolling through the campus of Yucheng Normal Affiliated High School with the director when she passed the art classroom and immediately noticed a quiet girl peacefully painting.
Only later did she learn that the girl’s name was Dang Xiaowen, nicknamed Xiaonuan, an orphan growing up in an orphanage.
The film crew had to do a lot of groundwork and process numerous formalities to persuade the orphanage director to release the child for filming.
In Xiaonuan’s eyes, Wen Xuelan was the fairy mother from her dreams, the kind of mother she yearned for with all her heart.
Wen Xuelan wasn’t a traditional strict or overly tender mother. She would have bubble fights in the bathtub with Xiaonuan; making a mess didn’t matter at all, as long as they were happy.
Every single drawing Xiaonuan made, Wen Xuelan would praise to the skies, gushing as if it had been drawn by the reincarnation of a divine painter. “My daughter is a little celestial being!” she’d exclaim.
Wen Xuelan would take Xiaonuan to the amusement park and play even more wildly than Xiaonuan herself. She would “snatch” Xiaonuan’s cotton candy, and when she saw Xiaonuan unhesitatingly offer it up, Wen Xuelan would teach her to say “no,” then make it up to her with an even bigger one.
While filming in Yucheng, Wen Xuelan even stepped in for the director, who was too swamped to get away, and attended Xiaonuan’s parent-teacher meeting at school. This instantly turned Xiaonuan into a little celebrity at Yucheng Affiliated High School.
The day Xiaonuan’s scenes wrapped happened to be her thirteenth birthday.
Wen Xuelan’s gift to Xiaonuan was a diary and a set of keys to their home in Beijing.
That day, the very first sentence Xiaonuan wrote in that diary was: “I have a home now. I have a mother.”
That was the last birthday Xiaonuan spent at the orphanage. For the occasion, the director bought a two-tier cake.
All the children in the orphanage came to celebrate Xiaonuan’s birthday. Only Xiaoxiang didn’t show up. He spent the whole evening alone on the rooftop, kicking pebbles, until a caretaker dragged him back to the dormitory by his ear.
Xiaoxiang knew his only friend was leaving the orphanage. He didn’t want her to go.
So, right before Xiaonuan left, Xiaoxiang said something against his own heart, a sentence he would regret for the rest of his life: “You’re just delusional! Even if a sparrow flies up to a high branch, it’ll never become a phoenix! Even if you’re adopted by rich people, a girl will never be happy! Everyone in this world likes boys!”
Xiaonuan froze, holding the music box she had bought with all her pocket money.
It was a farewell gift she’d prepared for Xiaoxiang. She knew he loved to sing and had a wonderful voice, and she hoped he’d become a famous singer one day.
The two kids, barely teenagers, parted on bad terms.
Before leaving the next day, Xiaonuan still left the music box outside the door of Xiaoxiang’s dormitory.
Her life with the Wen family in Beijing was, at home, happy.
It was a kind of happiness that felt completely unreal to her.
Her two older brothers, unrelated by blood, were studying abroad. They had only spoken to her on the phone but had mailed a huge box of Disney dolls as a welcome gift long before. Both had handwritten welcome letters, saying they were delighted she was becoming part of the Wen family, and that from now on, she would be their most beloved little sister.
Her mother continued to be so wonderful to her. Her father was a somewhat stern man, but when he spoke to her, he’d consciously lower his voice, speaking softly and gently, as if afraid of frightening this new daughter.
That summer vacation, her parents deliberately cleared their busy schedules to take Xiaonuan traveling, to meet her mother’s four best friends, to take her to various parties, and to order custom-made beautiful dresses, shoes, and jewelry.
Xiaonuan felt like Cinderella transformed into a princess. Lying in her fragrant, soft princess bed at night, she almost didn’t dare close her eyes, afraid that if she fell asleep, it would all turn out to be just a dream.
All the wonderfulness ended with the summer vacation.
When school started, Wen Xuelan transferred Xiaonuan into the “elite” private international school where her two sons had studied from kindergarten all the way through middle school.
In Wen Xuelan and her husband’s understanding, children were very adaptable.
Take their two sons, for example. They had been sent to Switzerland and Germany for exchange years in fifth and sixth grade, respectively. Within months, the sons, who hadn’t known a word of French or German beforehand, could keep up with the school curriculum and finished the semester with straight A+s.
So the couple wasn’t worried that Wennuan wouldn’t be able to keep up at the international school, where instruction was almost entirely in English. They believed she would adjust within a few months.
And Wennuan’s nightmare began at that “elite” international school.
Previously, Wennuan had attended a public school in Yucheng and only learned basic English in her first year of middle school. On the international school’s entrance test, the English exam paper wasn’t even graded by the teacher, because there was simply no point.
Therefore, even though Wennuan’s scores in Chinese, Math, and other subjects were good, and her drawing ability had been recognized by the art teacher, the school administration, after discussion, still decided to place her in Class C first.
In the second year of middle school, Class A was equivalent to the honors class in a public school, Class B was the regular class, and Class C was what people referred to as the “slower” class.
Of course, the international school wouldn’t explicitly tell parents this. And over twenty years ago, when public schools mostly used rigid “cramming” teaching methods, the international school’s “gentler” approach to class placement was already considered quite progressive.
Wen Xuelan’s older and younger sons had always been in Class A. She and her husband specifically approached the school leadership to understand the situation and even sat in on a few classes in Class C.
The couple didn’t find the atmosphere in Class C drastically different from Class A’s; the allocation of teaching resources was also the same.
The only thing was, the students in Class C were a bit more lively. The couple thought that perhaps making friends with these more outgoing classmates might be a good thing for the introverted Xiaonuan.
Furthermore, the school leadership stated that A, B, and C class placements would be adjusted every half semester based on exam results. This would serve as motivation for Wennuan, giving her a goal to strive for.
And so, Wennuan entered the second-year Class C.
She boarded at the school five days a week and went home on weekends.
The students in this Class C had almost all grown up together, moving up in a tight-knit group from kindergarten and elementary school. They were all the scions of wealthy and influential families, and everyone knew each other’s backgrounds.
Among them were a few boys who had long since heard from their parents that the Wen family had taken in an adopted daughter, and that she was very pretty.
Early-maturing thirteen and fourteen-year-old boys could be just as calculating as grown men, and with the lack of moral restraint typical of that age, they were especially interested in a pretty girl.
Especially when a beautiful girl from a small town, who spoke stumbling English with a heavy accent, and was adopted, joined their class.
The atmosphere at the international school was relatively liberal. Everyone there was destined to study abroad, and their families were all wealthy or influential. Apart from being strict about academics, the teachers were quite lax about discipline, school rules, and dating.
Plenty of people in the middle school were dating. The “top dog” of Class C was Diao Wenduo, the second son of a logistics magnate in the capital, the Diao family. He had a small clique and hung out with a few other rich brats every day. For this guy, girlfriends were “disposable,” changing weekly.
As soon as Wennuan entered the class, Diao Wenduo took a liking to her and wanted to date her.
Wennuan couldn’t possibly agree, and righteously rejected him.
After his confession failed, Diao Wenduo began finding all sorts of ways to make things difficult for her.
It started with spreading rumors about Wennuan. Soon, all kinds of nasty gossip was circulating around the school, even vicious rumors involving Wennuan and her adoptive father.
Later, Diao Wenduo used his influence to force Wennuan to become his “follower.” He made her run errands to the small supermarket, copy his homework, wash his basketball wristbands—all the “master-servant” tropes he’d read about in novels, applied to Wennuan.
Coming from an ordinary public middle school in Yucheng to an international school in Beijing, Wennuan was already plagued by low self-esteem. The all-English instruction put her under immense academic pressure.
The environment Wennuan grew up in was a simple, small-town atmosphere. The director and the orphanage staff had protected her well. No one had ever spoken a harsh word to her—also, of course, because Xiaonuan was a gentle, well-behaved child.
The only harsh words she’d ever received were from her good friend Xiaoxiang, whom she’d grown up with.
That line—”Even if a sparrow flies up to a high branch, it’ll never become a phoenix”—made Xiaonuan deeply insecure about her status as an adopted child for a very long time.
After Wennuan started school, both Wen Xuelan and her husband resumed their normal work routines. Wen Xuelan went off to film on location, trips lasting several months at a time, so she couldn’t make it back every weekend to be with Wennuan. Her husband’s company was busy preparing for its IPO in the US around that time, requiring frequent business trips.
Wennuan knew her parents were very busy. Sometimes when they flew back from different countries or cities to spend the weekend with her, they were so exhausted they’d doze off in the family room, heads propped on their hands.
Wennuan didn’t want to make them worry. She never mentioned the difficulties she faced at school. She only remembered the director saying that if she was bullied at school, she should find a teacher. So she privately sought help from her homeroom teacher.
Upon learning about it, the homeroom teacher just dismissed it as typical squabbles among kids. He verbally reprimanded Diao Wenduo and his group of boys, but didn’t summon their parents.
Mainly, kids like Diao Wenduo were from powerful, wealthy families. A small-time homeroom teacher like him was just an employee; he couldn’t afford to offend any of them. He didn’t escalate the matter either.
The other students in Class C, for the most part, had a very strong sense of “class consciousness.” A foster child like Wennuan clearly didn’t fit in with them. Wherever Wennuan went, she walked alone.
When Diao Wenduo realized that talking to the homeroom teacher had gotten her nowhere, he became even more brazen.
The more pure and untainted Wennuan was, the more Diao Wenduo found her an eyesore.
An uncontrollable inner malice erupted one day during PE class. Taking advantage of Wennuan spraining her ankle while playing volleyball, Diao Wenduo and a few other boys volunteered to take her to the infirmary.
But midway, the group dragged Wennuan off into the gymnasium where discarded desks and chairs were stored.
At first, Diao Wenduo only dared to burn her with cigarette butts in places covered by her school uniform. Later, when winter came and she started wearing long pants, he became completely unrestrained…
Diao Wenduo threatened Wennuan: “You don’t know this, but the Diao family can crush the Wen family effortlessly. Your adoptive mother isn’t exactly clean in the entertainment industry. If you don’t want anything happening to your adoptive parents, this secret between us can’t be told to anyone.”
That one sentence was enough to silence little Wennuan.
Overly innocent and kind, Xiaonuan harbored immense gratitude towards her adoptive parents. How could she allow them to come to harm?
If she were no longer in Beijing, no longer a child of the Wen family, maybe the Diao family would leave her mom and dad alone?
She could make herself disappear from Beijing—if it meant protecting her parents.
Clutching this naive, foolish thought, Wennuan began preparing to leave.
At this time, the only person helping her was Dang Xiaoxiang, who had been writing letters to Wennuan all along from the Yucheng orphanage.
Wennuan’s school operated under closed management. On weekends, when she left school, she was picked up by a driver, nanny, or private tutor. She had no chance for independent free time. The train ticket was bought for her by Dang Xiaoxiang.
Seizing the right moment, Wennuan changed out of her school uniform, squeezed through the back gate of the school cafeteria, and took a train back to Yucheng, back to the orphanage.
The reason Wennuan gave the director was that she missed her friends at the orphanage too much. She said she was older now, no longer a little kid, and wanted to help the director take care of the younger children there.
With tears in her eyes, the director couldn’t bear to send Wennuan away again.
When she left, Wennuan took nothing with her except the diary her parents had given her.
Wen Nuan fulfilled her promise to the director. She studied at the Yucheng Academy of Fine Arts, and after graduating, worked as a teacher at a painting institute, all while continuing to live at the orphanage.
Because she wanted her parents to forget her, Wennuan pleaded with the director not to write to Wen Xuelan and her husband anymore.
This continued until Wennuan was twenty-three, when the Yucheng orphanage was closed down and merged into the provincial welfare institution. Two years later, the director passed away from cancer.
Dang Xiaoxiang went to Beijing for university. She later heard he had dropped the surname “Dang.”
The last time Wennuan contacted him was when Xiaoxiang said he had met a “big brother” surnamed Jiang and was planning to follow him on a traveling performance caravan. He was determined to become a famous singer.
After that, Wennuan left Yucheng, deliberately cutting off contact with everyone from the orphanage, and went to the Guangzhou Academy of Fine Arts for further studies.
Without intending to, she entered a competition. Her ceramic art piece won an award, and unexpectedly, she secured angel investment. This led her to found her own independent ceramics brand, Calentito.
The experiences of her teenage years left Wennuan with a fear of men, a fear of marriage. She was even unable to be physically intimate with any man; the mere sight of one nauseated her.
After achieving initial financial freedom, Wennuan, along with the Golden Retriever she had adopted, left the city and came to Pearl Island to live a semi-reclusive life.
—
Chu Xingxing listened quietly, remaining silent.
Wennuan shook her head and said calmly, “Looking back now, I was truly foolish as a child, and very naive. A clumsy little lie was all it took to deceive me…”
“Don’t you say that!” Chu Xingxing stood up, shaking her head vehemently. “Sister Xiaonuan, don’t you talk about your past self like that.”
Wennuan was stunned for a moment.
Chu Xingxing sniffed, holding back tears. “That wasn’t foolishness; it was pure innocence and kindness, which are wonderful qualities. And it wasn’t naivety—who is born worldly-wise? That bastard Diao Wenduo was a twisted psycho, pure evil! If I could travel back in time, I’d deal with that monster for you with one swift stroke before anything else!”
“Xingxing, you don’t need to sympathize with me, and you don’t need to pity me.”
Wennuan rubbed her eyes, unwilling to show a fragile side in front of a younger sister.
She didn’t want to keep being like a broken porcelain doll—when encountering certain specific scenes, people who resembled Diao Wenduo, or the act of stubbing out a cigarette… she would become voiceless, unable to move, her whole body paralyzed, as if shut down.
Just like back then in that gymnasium.
“What are you talking about? Sister Xiaonuan, how could I possibly sympathize with you or pity you?”
Chu Xingxing’s voice was rarely this emotionally charged, completely different from her usual calm tone.
The school violence Wennuan had endured, the unprovoked calamity simply because she was beautiful—”Chu Xingxing” had experienced something similar. Chu Xingxing could fully empathize.
“I admire you deeply. You are very brave, Sister Xiaonuan.”
Chu Xingxing looked into her eyes and said, earnestly and deliberately, “If I had been your age and encountered the same thing, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it the way you did, nor would I have been as brave as you, using my own ability to try and find a solution.”
Facing such an ordeal, for a young girl, simply choosing to keep living required immense, immense courage. How could anyone accuse her of not being brave enough?
Chu Xingxing paused, calmed her emotions a little, and continued, “And after going through all those terrible things, Sister Xiaonuan didn’t give up on her dreams. You shone and thrived in your field, becoming a world-renowned artist. You founded a globally famous ceramic art brand. Isn’t that worthy of respect and admiration?
I only feel proud and honored by your professional achievements. I might even envy you—deeply envy you. If I ever encounter a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, I’ll think of you. I’ll think of how such an outstanding woman could move forward on her own, blazing a trail all the way to her throne. Then I, too, will strive to advance towards the throne of my own ideals!”
Wennuan tilted her head slightly, looking at Chu Xingxing, whose cheeks were flushed.
A massive boulder that had been pressing on her heart for over twenty years suddenly crumbled and fell away, piece by piece, in that instant.
Yes, Wennuan had always been entangled in her own past.
But she had never considered that even the darkest past becomes insignificant when illuminated by the brilliance of sufficient success.
“Now, may I hug you, Sister Xiaonuan?” Chu Xingxing had regained her composure and extended her arms to Wennuan.
Wen Nuan stood up and took the initiative to embrace Chu Xingxing.
Chu Xingxing hugged her tightly. Her body was warm and cozy, like a glowing little sun.
Wen Nuan thought: She shouldn’t be called Xingxing (Star). She should be called Sunny.
“Sister Xiaonuan, do you consider me a little sister?” Chu Xingxing suddenly looked up and asked.
“Of course.” Wennuan gently rubbed the back of her head.
If she didn’t trust Chu Xingxing, if she didn’t see her as a sister, how could she have told her all about her past?
Chu Xingxing’s voice dropped a degree in coldness. “Oh. Then can you tell your little sister what that bastard Diao Wenduo is doing now?”
And those little cronies of his—not a single one would get away.
Wen Nuan patted Chu Xingxing’s shoulder and said gently, “Even if there is revenge to be had, it’s my battle alone.”
“I’ll help you,” Chu Xingxing stated resolutely.
Wen Nuan sighed softly and tightened her arms around the girl, whose body was rigid with tension, soothing her. “Alright. If there’s ever a need, I will definitely turn to Xingxing for help.”
Although Chu Xingxing agreed verbally, she still silently repeated Diao Wenduo’s name a few times in her mind.
She couldn’t just blow his head off casually like in the post-apocalyptic world, but in a society governed by law, there were still ways to legally bring down that twisted, monstrous bastard.
—
The next day.
The first trip of Grandma’s Journey officially came to an end.
To make up for ending the live stream early the day before, the grandmas also started a live stream for their farewell send-off.
This absolutely thrilled the young viewers.
[AAAAHHHH! They’re here, they’re here, they’re here!]
[Wuwuwuwu, thank goodness I habitually clicked into the live stream room to check!]
[Old babies, your darling baby is here! Sending love to Star Baby~ Sending love to Big Boob Wennuan (not really lol)]
[Wow! And Sister Xiaonuan is there too. Everyone has such great chemistry. I really love this warm, harmonious atmosphere. See you on the next trip!]
Wennuan saw everyone off at the villa.
At the airport, just before parting, Wennuan hugged Xingxing, all the old babies, and Wen Han one by one.
The hug between Wennuan and Wen Xuelan lasted a little longer.
“In a while, I have some business matters to attend to, so I’ll be returning to China. I’ll stay in the country for a longer period then and spend some time with you,” Wennuan whispered into Wen Xuelan’s ear.
“That’s wonderful!” Ms. Wen Xuelan couldn’t hide her excitement.
Chu Xingxing was standing right beside them and overheard.
“It’s settled then, I’m treating Sister Xiaonuan to hotpot!” Chu Xingxing declared with absolute certainty.
Her first paycheck was about to come in. Just thinking about it made her happy—making money, making money!
“Alright, we’ll definitely give our Xingxing this chance to treat us,” Wennuan said, hugging Chu Xingxing once more.
Ms. Wen Xuelan joined the embrace too. “Aiyo, how can we let our youngest, Star Baby, treat us? Star Baby is still a baby herself! There’s no reason for the younger generation to pay for a meal. I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”
The warm atmosphere made the viewers in the comment section feel it too—
[Hahaha! Grandma Wen is so doting! I want to be a wealthy grandma’s baby too!]
[I’m really going to miss this so much. The first trip has already ended just like that.]
[I’m different. I don’t call her Grandma Wen; I just shout, “Mother-in-law!” Has my husband Wen Han mentioned me, his unseen future daughter-in-law, to you?!]
[Our Xingxing really has chemistry with everyone. Sister Xiaonuan x Xingxing is so shippable too. The gentle big sister really takes good care of our Xingxing, and Xingxing really likes Sister Xiaonuan too!]
[Hahahaha! Don’t ship randomly, you guys! Have you already forgotten about Cookie? Little Cookie: I should be under the car…]
[Little Cookie: Xingxing, love me once more!]
Wen Han watched the three of them clinging to each other all lovey-dovey, shook his head with a smile, and said, “I’ll treat. What kind of rule says girls have to pay?”
“We didn’t say anything about bringing you along for the meal!”
Chu Xingxing and Ms. Wen Xuelan spoke in perfect unison.
Wen Nuan burst out laughing with a “pfft.”
Wen Han was also amused by this pair of living treasures, one old and one young.
He exchanged a glance with Wennuan. Though they shared no blood relation, they understood each other with the silent默契 of real siblings, both giving a nod.
No need for many words; they both understood the other’s meaning: “Take care.”
Chu Xingxing tilted her head. Looking at it this way, it almost seemed like Wen Han and Wennuan were more like family. Their personalities were exactly the same, weren’t they?
But…
Ms. Wen Xuelan tossed her bag to her son. “Who makes a lady carry her own bag? It’s so heavy. You, my ‘porter,’ are not doing your job very well.”
“So you’re willing to let me tag along now?” Wen Han took the incredibly lightweight handbag from his mother’s hands and smiled helplessly. He really couldn’t deal with this little old lady.
Chu Xingxing: Pfft…
Sure enough, a real mom raises an emotionally stable and gentle kid by practicing reverse parenting.
—
On the return flight, Let’s Travel Together and Grandma’s Journey were on the same flight again.
Let’s Travel Together originally didn’t have a live streaming plan.
It just so happened that the departure lounge at Pearl Island’s Silver Wing Airport was far too small.
The cameras for Grandma’s Journey’ live stream simply couldn’t avoid capturing the guests from the neighboring variety show.
Through the grandmas’ camera feed, you could clearly see that almost every member of Let’s Travel Together had darkened by several shades.
Having been pestered by a little terror of a kid in economy class the whole way there, Jiang Chang’an, Tian Mengtong, and the others already looked pretty rough when they got off the plane.
But comparing their current state to how they looked when they first arrived at Pearl Island—Jiang Chang’an, Tian Mengtong, and company had appeared practically red-carpet ready in terms of makeup, hair, and styling.
Now, the entire cast of Let’s Travel Together, except for Cookie who had acquired the healthy honey-toned skin of a vibrant young woman, looked like they were fleeing a disaster zone.
The starkest contrast was seen in the one male and one female guest who were hyped as the “visuals” of the group.
After all, the other guests had never used their looks as a gimmick.
Chu Xingxing and the old babies were sitting in the first-class lounge.
Taking a long, refreshing sip of her ice-cold orange soda, Chu Xingxing swung her long legs idly and glanced over at the line for economy class. She nearly choked and spat out her drink. “Pfft!”
The cameraman, very much in the know, subtly angled the lens in that direction—
[HELP!!! Is that the Chang’an gege I know?!]
[Bahahahaha! The Grandma’s Journey cameraman is so evil! Is this shot deliberately aimed over there?!]
[AAAAHHH, no way, no way, am I seeing things?!]
[Is that Tongtong?! I don’t believe it!!!]
[OMG, are there haters trying to smear our Tongbao?! I refuse to believe that’s Tian Mengtong!]
[Are those two seriously Jiang Chang’an and Tian Mengtong??? Did those two end up on some kind of reform-through-labor show…?]
The fair-skinned young master Jiang Chang’an had successfully transformed—tanned as dark as a local islander fresh off a survival reality show.
The sweet-faced rich girl Tian Mengtong had successfully transformed—into that local islander’s country cousin from his third aunt’s side.
—
Beijing, inside a rented apartment in an old residential complex.
Chu Xingxing sank softly into the sofa in the small living room.
She was alone in the room. It felt empty and quiet.
It was dinnertime. The exhaust ducts in this old complex had fallen into disrepair over the years. Right from her living room, she could smell the garlic chive and shredded pork stir-fry her neighbor was having for dinner.
Xingxing suddenly felt a brief moment of disorientation. Had it really only been the better part of a day? She was already back in Beijing from the island?
Humans are such strange creatures. Before the trip, Chu Xingxing thought her quiet, solitary life was perfectly wonderful.
After the trip, she realized that a lively life surrounded by a big group of people was also pretty great.
There were still two weeks until the next trip, and Chu Xingxing was already getting impatient.
Sure enough, the post-travel blues were real.
Once a person falls in love with being on the road, they’ll always chase that feeling of being in motion.
Picking up her phone to check the time, Chu Xingxing sent WeChat messages to each of the old babies one by one, confirming they had all arrived home safely and reminding them to rest well.
Soon, voice replies from the grandmas came flooding in.
Ms. Wen Xuelan was the first to respond. “Thanks, Star Baby! I’m staying at Wen Han’s place tonight and heading back to my own home tomorrow. You know where he’s taking me for dinner tonight?
He actually wants to take me to Go Fit Center for health food! No way I’m eating rabbit food! I ordered delivery from Dadong Duck. Star Baby, what did you have for dinner?
Let me order you some Dadong Duck too! Aiyah, that duck is sooo delicious, you’ll definitely love it! I asked your agent, Xiao Jiang, for your home address. Already placed the order. Remember to eat it while it’s hot!”
Before Chu Xingxing could even finish replying to Ms. Wen Xuelan, a voice message from Grandma Jiang Yao popped in.
Jiang Yao: “Darling baby, I’m home. Just feeding my pond full of koi. Grandma will send you a video to see. Look, such big, fat, beautiful koi! Oh, by the way, A-Ze flies back from France tomorrow. He’s been wanting to meet you. Let’s arrange a meal together.”
The second to last to reply was Grandma Ai Minli.
“Xingxing, I’m home. Don’t you worry about me. My husband made three-delicacy filling and pork, corn, and mushroom dumplings. We’re having dumplings now. I asked him to wrap extra to freeze. Once they’re frozen solid, I’ll send them over by express courier. A young girl living alone should always have some frozen dumplings on hand at home. Healthy and convenient.”
Grandma Ai Minli spoke slowly, her tone even and calm, but it sounded especially warm and familiar.
Chu Xingxing replied to the three old babies one by one.
The grandmas were truly so wonderful. Only a few hours apart, and Chu Xingxing already felt she missed them.
The time spent with them was genuinely so happy.
Just then, Chu Xingxing received a phone call from Grandma Sheng Shuwen.
“Grandma Sheng, did you get home safely?” Chu Xingxing asked obediently.
Grandma Sheng Shuwen’s voice carried a smile as she spoke with the familiar tone of one checking on a younger family member. “Arrived, arrived. Has our little friend Xingxing arrived home? Have you eaten? Are you resting well? Don’t do any strenuous exercise tonight. Take a nice bath with a mugwort pouch and get a good night’s sleep.”
“I’m home too, been here for an hour already,”
Chu Xingxing, now accustomed to the old babies’ concern, reported her status in detail. “Haven’t eaten yet. I was going to go to Go Fit Center for a health meal, but then Grandma Wen ordered Dadong Duck for me, and Grandma Ai Minli is going to courier dumplings that Grandpa made, and Grandma Jiang Yao wants to have a meal together. I am resting well. I’ll be a good girl and take a bath tonight.”
Then Chu Xingxing remembered something. “Oh, right, Grandma Sheng, it’s five minutes until your medication time. Don’t forget. I packed all the extra backup medication you had into the small zippered pouch on the outside of your luggage bag. Remember to take it out.”
Sheng Shuwen: “Our Xingxing is still the most thoughtful. Grandma knows. From now on, besides the timed reminder on Ah Zhi’s watch, I have another little alarm clock.”
“Then Grandma Sheng, rest well. I won’t keep you any longer. See you on the next trip.” Chu Xingxing hung up the phone.
She had just crouched down to start unpacking her luggage when her phone vibrated again.
Thinking one of the old babies needed something, Chu Xingxing quickly grabbed her phone to look.
In an instant, her eyes widened…
The WeChat message was from Sheng Luzhi.
This was the very first message he had ever initiated.
[Sheng Luzhi: Thank you for taking care of the old lady throughout the journey. I owe you a favor.]
[Sheng Luzhi: If you ever need anything, feel free to contact me anytime.]
Chu Xingxing stared at the word “owe,” feeling a bit conflicted.
It really wasn’t the right word. She and the grandmas were friends, and oftentimes it was the grandmas taking care of her.
Chu Xingxing initially wanted to decline Sheng Luzhi’s “favor,” but a flash of plot points from the book crossed her mind.
The current Sheng Luzhi hadn’t yet reached the pinnacle of power he would hold, but the Sheng family and Shengshi Group were already an untouchable existence in the capital, beyond anyone’s ability to shake.
She really did need help. She needed to investigate someone.
And this investigation was a secret that couldn’t be leaked to a third party.
Perhaps Sheng Luzhi was the best option right now. After all, for him, finding someone should be an effortless task, right?
Besides, having a favor hanging over her head indefinitely didn’t feel good either. At least, that’s how Chu Xingxing felt—she hated the feeling of being indebted to someone.
It was better to repay it early and be even.
Never one to dawdle, Chu Xingxing typed directly and to the point.
[Star Estrella: Can I use that “favor” right now?]
The other party replied after a minute, probably not expecting someone to cash in a favor on the spot.
[Sheng Luzhi: You can.]
[Star Estrella: Then please, help me find someone’s current address.]
Chu Xingxing sent the person’s name—Diao Wenduo.
