Chapter 78: Andy Comes Calling

Another weekend arrived. In the past few days, Fan Shengmei had been casually flirting with Wang Baichuan and occasionally checking out other older men. Guan Juer had been exhausted every day, working tirelessly to pass her evaluation and secure permanent employment. Qu Xiaoxiao was busy running her own company and waiting for a response from the GI Group.

Andy had already met Qidian before and had been further communicating with him recently, but she couldn’t help comparing Qidian to Wang Yan. In addition, she also observed and studied Qu Xiaoxiao and the three women in 2202, just as Wang Yan had suggested.

The biggest change these past few days was Qiu Yingying. Ever since she completed her onboarding at Wang Yan’s company on Tuesday and treated everyone except Qu Xiaoxiao to a meal with the compensation money she received, her misfortunes came one after another.

Although it was meant for her to reflect on herself, Wang Yan feared Qiu Yingying’s resolve might be weak and that the blows she’d suffered might be too much to bear—what if she fell into depression and something terrible happened? So Master Wang specially gave her a lesson on what success meant, how to achieve it, what sacrifices were required, and what rewards could be gained. He dazzled her so thoroughly that she became full of ambition, vowing to accomplish something great.

After convincing Qiu Yingying, a flood of tasks was immediately dumped on her eager, energetic self. Every morning Wang Yan drove her to the company; every night she took the last subway home alone. It wasn’t that Wang Yan was exploiting her—she knew her own shortcomings and worked overtime daily. She came home groaning about exhaustion, yet woke up punctually the next morning to catch Wang Yan’s ride to work. Whether she’d gained anything yet was unclear, but just her drive surpassed even the most diligent Guan Juer.

Wang Yan’s company was newly founded, with only dozens of staff, but it was top-tier: everyone had been personally interviewed by Wang Yan and were seasoned professionals with years of experience and solid skills. They all knew Qiu Yingying was Wang Yan’s connection hire, so they treated her kindly. With their occasional guidance, Qiu Yingying had made minor progress—though after just a few days, it was still too early to tell.

Over these past few days, Guan Juer and Fan Shengmei, who shared the same apartment, were stunned—they barely recognized Qiu Yingying anymore. All she did was work, work, success, success; she no longer chatted with them. She came home, muttered a few words, and went straight to sleep. Without the dim-witted Qiu Yingying to liven things up, the atmosphere felt strangely empty, as if something vital was missing.

At Old Zhang’s breakfast stall, Wang Yan, Andy, and Guan Juer ate breakfast.

Guan Juer protested: “Brother Wang, aren’t you being too cruel?” Today Qiu Yingying had to work overtime; yesterday, she and Fan Shengmei had begged her to go.

Wang Yan sipped his soy milk: “Qiu isn’t just lacking in foundation—she has zero foundation. She knows it herself, so she can only make up for it through massive work, study, and practice. She’ll adapt eventually.”

Yingying doesn’t even talk to us anymore. She comes home, says two words, and collapses into bed. I’m exhausted just watching her. Brother Wang, if you can’t take it anymore, please talk some sense into her—she can’t keep going like this without breaking down.

Before Wang Yan could respond, Andy interjected: “Little Guan, I think Qiu Yingying’s doing fine. She’s improving through work and forgetting the trauma from that white bastard. She seems carefree, but that incident with him really hurt her—she’s got a wound inside, she just won’t admit it.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think she’d last this long. I figured she’d quit after one day.”

Guan Juer looked at Wang Yan across from her. He shrugged, signaling Andy was right. Progress was progress. She sighed and nodded, saying nothing.

Andy looked up at Wang Yan, opened her mouth, then hesitated. Her eyes flickered, but she said nothing, lowering her head to continue sipping her porridge.

Wang Yan pretended not to notice. Whatever.

On the way back to Happy Song, the three ran into Qu Xiaoxiao hauling a cart full of cat food. Wang Yan ignored her, said a quick goodbye to the other two, and left.

Watching Wang Yan’s retreating figure, Qu Xiaoxiao gritted her teeth: “A grown man, sees all this stuff, and won’t even help carry it? What kind of guy is he? You’ve got only a few good days left—why act so proud? It’s been half a month already, and I’m sick of him. I can’t argue with him, I can’t fight him—how can a porcelain vase fight a rock?”

She’d called Yao Bin several times recently, pushing him to quickly find out whether this poor, stupid bastard had any powerful connections—and make sure he got driven out of Shanghai. But Yao Bin was always busy, always cut the call short after a few words.

Andy patted Guan Juer, who was about to argue, and asked: “Why are you buying so much cat food?”

Qu Xiaoxiao went on at length about stray cats surviving the winter.

After listening, Andy’s impression of her improved slightly. She began to wonder if Wang Yan had been unfair—how could someone so kind to cats and dogs be so cold toward…?

As Andy and Guan Juer helped carry the cat food, Qu Xiaoxiao asked: “I haven’t seen Qiu Yingying in days—what’s she doing?”

Guan Juer replied: “She lost her job after being ruined by that white bastard. Now she’s working with Brother Wang, coming and going all day. You’re so busy, you wouldn’t notice.”

“I told you so! You all blamed me—but look! Isn’t that white bastard a piece of trash? I’m helping her escape this hell early. Taking down scumbags is my duty.” Qu Xiaoxiao beamed, then shifted tone: “What kind of job is Wang Yan giving her? Selling drinks at a bar? Being a waitress?” She burst into laughter, sneering.

Guan Juer glanced at Andy and said: “No. Brother Wang started an internet company. Yingying works there as an employee.”

“Him? Start an internet company? Tsk tsk…” Then came a barrage of criticism—denigrating Wang Yan and, by extension, Qiu Yingying. She hoped to turn them against Wang Yan, to forge a united front.

Andy said nothing, watching Qu Xiaoxiao’s self-righteous monologue. The slight goodwill she’d felt moments ago vanished.

When they entered the elevator and reached the 22nd floor, they stepped out to see Fan Shengmei rummaging through piles of clothes in 2202. Qu Xiaoxiao blurted: “Oh? What’s this? Setting up a stall in the hallway?”

Seeing Fan Shengmei’s awkward, uncomfortable expression, Andy’s opinion of Qu Xiaoxiao instantly dropped to zero.

To prevent a fight, Andy and Guan Juer quickly helped Qu Xiaoxiao carry all the cat food inside.

Back home, Andy exhaled deeply, shook her head. After washing up and handling some company matters, she dressed carefully as noon approached and left for Qidian’s dinner.

Wang Yan, back home, washed up, read, drank tea, and practiced calligraphy—deeply absorbed, skipping lunch entirely.

At two-thirty, Wang Yan’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, smiled, and answered: “Hello?”

“Wang, I’m at your bar.” The caller hung up.

Love is always wounded by indifference, by excessive affection, by all kinds of pain—poor little lapdog.

Wang Yan threw on a tracksuit and drove to the bar.

On the weekend, the bar was doing well—plenty of people with money came to pretend they were sophisticated.

He grabbed a bottle of liquor and a large plate of snacks, then found Yao Bin alone in the corner, slumped, drinking straight from the bottle.

Wang Yan sat across from him, poured himself a drink, and asked: “What’s your take?”

Yao Bin grabbed the bottle and gulped deeply: “You knew everything, didn’t you?”

“Why ask stupid questions? If I didn’t know, why’d I ask you to investigate?”

Yao Bin sighed miserably: “Fucking hell—he’s into everything… I didn’t think… I really didn’t think she’d do that.” He took another huge swallow.

Wang Yan swallowed his food: “After being played for years, did love turn to hatred?”

Yao Bin hugged the bottle, eyes red, thought for a long time, then sighed: “Forget it…”

You say forget it? Is that how it works? Wang Yan sipped his drink, paused, then said: “Stop drinking for a second. Since you came to me, I’ll help you analyze this. Qu Xiaoxiao has been using you all these years…” Master Wang began giving him an impromptu lesson.

Yao Bin came from a good family—he had Jianshi . He was sharper than Qu Xiaoxiao’s clueless little fool. But in Wang Yan’s eyes, Yao Bin was just as easily fooled. Take the half-bottle of hard liquor he’d already downed—Wang Yan said two sentences and Yao Bin was half-drunk, half-dazed, staring blankly as Wang Yan went on.

Wang Yan wasn’t trying to brainwash him—just implant ideas. This state was perfect. When Yao Bin sobered up and reflected, the thoughts would take root.

He’d think: I’ve done so much for her—worked, sacrificed, made my feelings obvious. Everyone in the circle knows what’s going on. Yet you’ve spent years saying nothing, just playing me like this? Then he’d think: You’ve been cozy with so many others, yet you won’t even look at me? That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? The more he thought, the more resentment built.

In Wang Yan’s eyes, Yao Bin wasn’t innocent. He was happy to see dogs fight. Whether anything would happen depended on Yao Bin’s character.

In their circle, Yao Bin was clearly the leader. If he distanced himself from Qu Xiaoxiao, others would think twice—making her life harder. Either way, Yao Bin now had a grudge. Future phone calls to check on someone? She’d have to work harder. Her family connections could still help, but it’d add unnecessary complications—forget about Yao Bin introducing business.

Wang Yan talked with Yao Bin until past five, leaving him utterly confused, practically broken.

At the bar’s entrance, half-carried, Yao Bin slurred: “Wang… Wang brother… thanks. Today… felt so damn good. Next time, I’ll treat you to a full meal. Gotta… go…”

Wang Yan nodded, waved off the people helping Yao Bin, and signaled them to take the drunkard away.

Back at the bar, Wang Yan greeted Xiao Li and Xiao Zhang, then returned to Happy Song.

Qu Xiaoxiao’s situation was temporarily settled. His subtle moves could change a lot. He had plenty of time—he’d wait and see how things developed, then decide whether to keep studying her.

Wang Yan hadn’t eaten lunch—only snacked at the bar—and he was starving. His appetite was always big—he devoured two large bowls of noodles at a noodle shop outside the compound before feeling satisfied.

Sated and content, Wang Yan strolled home, brewed a pot of tea, and idly picked up a book.

Andy had just endured an unpleasant dinner with Qidian, then received a call from Tan Zongming: his brother had some news. Through Tan’s friend, Old Yan, Andy learned her brother was almost certainly intellectually disabled and his whereabouts were unknown.

Heartbroken, hollow, Andy fled home, leaned against the wall, and imagined: if her brother were alive, how would he be? If he’d died, what suffering had he endured? The more she thought, the more terrified she became. She kept drinking water to calm her nerves.

Afraid to think deeper, she shifted focus to Qidian from dinner. She recalled Qidian checking her car, then remembered Qu Xiaoxiao’s words. Compared to Qu Xiaoxiao, what was Qidian really different? She was prettier, drove a better car—of course people speculated maliciously. She understood that. But if that was true, what made Qidian so extraordinary?

Thinking this, she naturally recalled Wang Yan’s words in the elevator. Comparing them now, the difference was clear. She reflected on everything since meeting Wang Yan—every word he’d spoken. The more she knew him, the more his charm grew, the more she wanted to understand him.

“Maybe talking to him would be a good idea?” Without warning, Andy felt the urge to confide in Wang Yan—he was someone she could truly open up to.

She wasn’t the type to hesitate. She acted immediately, stepped out, and knocked on his door.

Hearing the door open, Wang Yan saw Andy, hollow-eyed, and paused: “Come in. What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Sit. Have some tea. Calm down. Talk while you drink.”

Andy nodded, sat, and drank the tea Wang Yan had poured—unaware she’d always drunk only one brand of mineral water. She said: “I’ve been asking Tan to help me…” She recounted everything from start to finish, staring fixedly at Wang Yan.

When he opened the door, Wang Yan had suspected something. Now he confirmed it. But Andy coming to him? That he hadn’t expected. Since she’d come to him, he wouldn’t hold back. Qidian? Bao Yifan? Get out of the way.

Wang Yan set down his teacup: “I understand. Drink some tea, calm down. I’ll look into something.” He nodded to Andy and rose to leave.

Andy didn’t know what he’d look into, but assumed it related to her brother. She said nothing, watching him walk to the study, quietly sipping tea.

After over twenty minutes, Andy grew restless, impatient—then Wang Yan returned: “I’ll take you to Daishan. Want to change clothes?”

“To Daishan?” Andy exclaimed: “But… we don’t know where my brother is. What are we going to do?”

“To find peace. Can you sleep?” Seeing her shake her head, Wang Yan said: “Then go. No news? Visit the place you grew up. Recall memories—it’s better than sitting here.”

“I contacted the welfare home, nursing home, and psychiatric hospital there. I gave them the details. Only one nursing home has a child matching the description. We’ll go there first, then screen the rest later.”

After hearing this, Andy said firmly: “Let’s go now.”

She packed quickly, and Wang Yan set off. Daishan wasn’t far—it was about six now; they’d reach the nursing home by ten.

Wang Yan drove steadily, focused. Andy sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly ahead, silent.

Elders sleep early—the Daishan nursing home was eerily quiet, broken only by insect chirps and bird calls. Then came the dull rumble of an engine, the crunch of tires over gravel, distant headlights—shattering the night’s stillness.

Wang Yan checked the time: just before ten. He parked outside the nursing home, turned off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and said to Andy: “Let’s go.”

Andy was silent, trembling—hoping this was her brother, so she could confirm his safety, yet also hoping it wasn’t, so she could keep running.

Wang Yan said nothing, sitting quietly beside her.

After a long while, Andy whispered: “Let’s go.”

They got out. Wang Yan contacted the director. Soon, a woman emerged. Wang Yan stepped forward: “Hello, Director Yang. I’m Wang Yan, the one who called. This is Andy, the sister searching for her brother.”

Director Yang nodded: “Follow me. He’s asleep. Move quietly—don’t wake him. You know the situation.”

“Thank you, Director Yang. This late at night, you’ve gone to so much trouble.”

Director Yang waved it off: “It’s nothing. This child… he’s truly… I hope you’re his sister.” She sighed, sorrowful.

Wang Yan said nothing, walking silently. Andy followed close behind.

Soon, Director Yang led them into a building, stopping at a small room. She whispered: “This is it.”

Wang Yan glanced inside, stepped aside, and gestured for Andy to approach.

Andy hesitated, then stepped forward, peering through the glass at the sleeping figure. Memories surfaced—two faces slowly merged. Andy opened her mouth to call out—Wang Yan moved swiftly, covering her mouth from behind. He carried her, struggling and sobbing, quickly outside.

“Can you control yourself?” Seeing her nod, Wang Yan released her.

Andy collapsed to the ground, weeping silently. Wang Yan said: “Andy, calm down. It’s not confirmed yet.”

Andy choked out: “It’s him. I feel it. I know it. He’s my brother.”