Chapter 88: It

After that day, Wang Yan took some free time to visit Dai Mountain Nursing Home with Andy to see Andy’s younger brother.

After so much time had passed, the nursing home had changed somewhat, for Wang Yan and Andy had truly invested real money.

The courtyard’s ground had been leveled, and some exercise equipment had been added. The old building and its peeling walls had also been repainted and repaired.

Elderly people often fall ill—many ailments, some serious—and these are the biggest expenses. The government’s annual funding goes largely toward medical care. The remaining money from Wang Yan’s donation, besides a portion used to improve meals, was entirely spent on buying medicine.

In addition, Wang Yan remembered his promise and helped bring Guan Juer and Zhao Qiping together. A week passed, and their communication grew increasingly frequent; according to Andy, Guan Juer had already gone on one private date with Zhao Qiping.

Fan Shengmei routinely ignored Wang Baichuan, stringing him along. Guan Juer and Zhao Qiping were getting close, leaving her no interest in others’ romantic lives. But Qiu Yingying noticed Fan Shengmei’s aloofness and offered a few words of advice.

Before Qiu Yingying could say more, Fan Shengmei’s logic came crashing down: When a man is pursuing you, that’s when he’s most attentive—if he won’t spend money or time then, you can kick him out immediately.

After hearing this, Qiu Yingying said nothing more. After working and studying tirelessly for so long, and absorbing the lessons from seasoned veterans at the office, she’d grown a bit—she’d learned not to argue with people lightly. She couldn’t quite shut up, but she could at least hold her tongue.

If Fan Shengmei, a veteran of countless battles, said it like that, why should she care? Daily overtime, studying, feeling her own progress, striving hard—to become the next Andy, to buy a house and car in Shanghai, to fulfill her father’s hopes and her own dreams—wasn’t that worth it?

After the last gathering of the five women, Qu Xiaoxiao had lain low for a while—but recently reappeared.

She’d broken up with Yao Bin; frankly, she’d never cared about him. As for the things he held over her, she trusted he wouldn’t spread them—everyone was dirty; maybe she’d just played a bit more wildly. So what?

What she cared about was the humiliation of being openly exposed by a man she’d manipulated—and losing access to the circle’s resources. After all, Yao Bin was the big brother of that small circle; if he cut ties with her, the others would surely exclude her too.

Of course, Qu Xiaoxiao only felt regret—after all, her greatest backing was her far wealthier family. Yao Bin wouldn’t blab everywhere, and her reputation wasn’t ruined. Childhood comparisons were inevitable; as adults, friendships were mostly about exchanging benefits and sharing resources. If this circle wouldn’t have her, she’d just find another.

Still, losing a group of long-time drinking and partying buddies was a blow, and she wasn’t happy. To cope, Qu Xiaoxiao indulged for several days with a good-looking, well-built guy, thoroughly enjoying herself.

After being scolded by Qu Yongquan for being absent from work for several days, Qu Xiaoxiao finally remembered her real priority: fighting for the family inheritance. Friends? What mattered more than her family’s assets?

Fully immersed in work, Qu Xiaoxiao now left early and returned late, occasionally asking Andy for advice on company management and business tactics. She didn’t try to undermine Wang Yan, because she hadn’t found an opportunity.

Seeing her sincere curiosity, Andy couldn’t refuse outright and occasionally offered pointers. She didn’t particularly like Qu Xiaoxiao, but she didn’t dislike her either. Wang Yan’s attitude toward Qu Xiaoxiao had some influence, but not much.

She’d told Wang Yan about her stance toward Qu Xiaoxiao. He had no criticism—this didn’t affect their relationship at all; he’d never given Qu Xiaoxiao a second thought. Andy was an adult with her own mind, capable of weighing pros and cons—no need for him to meddle, just let her observe.

One evening, Qu Xiaoxiao once again encountered Wang Baichuan, standing before his car, staring blankly as Fan Shengmei walked away.

Walking up behind the dazed Wang Baichuan, Qu Xiaoxiao tapped his shoulder: “Hey, still staring? She’s long gone.”

“Huh?” Wang Baichuan turned, startled: “Oh, it’s you. Just off work?”

Qu Xiaoxiao sighed: “Yeah, too much work. Anyway, I’ve got to go. See you.”

“Goodbye.”

After taking two steps, Qu Xiaoxiao remembered something and turned back, widening her eyes in a pitiful expression: “By the way, Wang Handsome, I need to tell you something. But you have to forgive me first.”

Wang Baichuan smiled: “We don’t even know each other—why would there be any need for forgiveness?”

“True, huh? Then I’ll say it?” Qu Xiaoxiao glanced cautiously at Wang Baichuan; seeing him nod, she whispered: “When I first met you, I stupidly checked your license plate. Then… then Fan Jie found out—your car… is rented.”

Seeing Wang Baichuan’s face darken, she quickly stepped back, looking pitiful: “You won’t blame me, right, Wang Handsome?”

Wang Baichuan forced a smile: “It’s fine—it really is rented. Why blame you?”

Qu Xiaoxiao seemed relieved, cheerfully saying: “Thank you, Wang Handsome, you’re so kind. I’m off then—bye!” She blew him a little kiss, slung her small bag over her shoulder, and walked off with a sway.

Wang Baichuan stood frozen, watching Qu Xiaoxiao’s flamboyant figure disappear. He had no energy to dwell on her mocking, slightly insulting manner—his mind was filled with only one phrase: “Fan Jie found out—your car… is rented.”

A cold wind blew, making Wang Baichuan shiver. He snapped back to reality, opened the car door, and sat in the driver’s seat, seriously pondering the matter.

“She knows?”

“If she knows, why didn’t she expose me?”

“Is she indifferent, waiting for me to confess—or something else?”

“What does she really think of me?”

Wang Baichuan was anxious, endlessly analyzing what Fan Shengmei’s intentions might be.

Whether man or woman, when truly in love, one inevitably overthinks the other’s moods. To the other, it might be trivial—perhaps even unnoticed. But to oneself, after wild imaginings, it becomes a storm, a monumental event.

After a long while, he slammed the steering wheel hard—the horn blared shrilly—and Wang Baichuan made his decision…

Meanwhile, Qu Xiaoxiao caught up with Fan Shengmei, who was also strutting: “Fan Jie, wait up.” Noticing the bags in her hand, she exclaimed dramatically: “Wow, Wang Handsome really went all out—bought you more stuff again?”

Fan Shengmei swung the luxury bag, sneering: “If a man doesn’t spend money chasing a woman, what’s the point? Why waste time and energy?”

“Fan Jie, you’re truly Fan Jie,” Qu Xiaoxiao praised: “That’s exactly right—these fake gentlemen need to be bled dry.”

At this, Fan Shengmei grew annoyed and changed the subject: “Why haven’t you been around lately? What’s keeping you busy?”

Qu Xiaoxiao dragged out her words, exhausted: “What else? My lousy company—can’t make money, just worn out. Fan Jie, tell me, what’s the point? You’re so much better off.”

Fan Shengmei inwardly cursed but kept her face neutral: “Oh, Miss Qu, how can ordinary folks like us compare? Don’t play humble with me.”

Flattered, Qu Xiaoxiao laughed: “Enough of that—it’s annoying. Lately…” She probed about Guan Juer, Qiu Yingying, and Andy and Wang Yan’s activities.

Fan Shengmei was shrewd—not foolish. She knew Qu Xiaoxiao had a history; she didn’t mention Zhao the doctor at all, just humored her as they chatted and returned to the 22nd floor.

Back home, Qu Xiaoxiao dropped her things and immediately went across to knock on 2201’s door. She’d learned Andy’s routine: only after dinner walks, when Wang Yan wasn’t around, was she alone.

After a while, Andy opened the door, greeted her, then turned back to her desk to continue working.

Qu Xiaoxiao was used to Andy’s coldness. She closed the door herself, took a bottle of water from the fridge, drank it while sitting on Andy’s desk, and smiled: “Andy, I’ve got something to tell you—it’s kind of funny.”

Andy looked up, signaling her to continue.

“Just now at the gate—guess who I saw?” Seeing Andy stare, Qu Xiaoxiao shrugged: “Fine, no teasing—I saw Wang Baichuan at the gate.”

Andy frowned: “Is seeing Wang Baichuan really worth laughing like that?”

“Haha, you don’t get it, Andy. I just told Wang Baichuan that Fan Jie found out his car is rented.” Qu Xiaoxiao laughed uncontrollably: “Haha, his face—oh, you should’ve seen it, Andy…”

Watching Qu Xiaoxiao collapse in laughter, Andy frowned: “This is their affair. Xiao Qu, is this appropriate?”

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“What’s inappropriate?” Qu Xiaoxiao sneered: “I’m helping them. What’s the point of hiding? Better to know the truth early—both can be free. Plus, I saw Wang Baichuan bought her more luxury items—expensive brands. Fan Jie says men must spend to chase women, but I hate her attitude. And Wang Baichuan’s renting a car—how much can he afford to keep giving her?”

After a pause, Andy shook her head: “I see your point, but I still think this is wrong. This concerns their relationship—you’ve exposed it, and no one knows how it’ll end. You’re acting a bit…”

“Enough about them,” Qu Xiaoxiao waved impatiently. What happened to others’ love lives was none of her concern. She changed subject: “By the way, Andy, today I met with someone about a project—they…”

Andy worked while giving Qu Xiaoxiao occasional advice. When done, she said: “Alright, Xiao Qu, that’s enough for today. Your tasks are handled…”

Qu Xiaoxiao, still absorbing the insights, nodded disappointedly—these were Andy’s hard-won lessons. She sighed: “Fine, I’ll go then. See you tomorrow, Andy.” She opened the door and returned home, silently cursing the Wang family.

Andy went upstairs without mentioning the earlier incident to Wang Yan—she knew he disliked such messy affairs.

As Andy spent more time with Wang Yan, watching him practice martial arts and calligraphy, she grew curious and wanted to test herself. Recently, she’d begun learning martial arts and calligraphy from Wang Yan.

Andy was eager to learn, and Wang Yan had no objection—he patiently taught her. Daytime sessions were fine, but evening ones were less efficient… yet the results were good.

That day, Qiu Yingying finished work early and returned with Guan Juer, who’d also been working late. They entered to find Fan Shengmei standing before the mirror, twisting her body, examining her feet.

Qiu Yingying put down her things: “Fan Jie, these shoes are gorgeous—did Wang Handsome give them to you? He’s so good to you, right, Guan Guan?”

“Let me see,” Guan Juer stepped closer, glancing: “Hmm, Wang Handsome really is good to Fan Jie. If I’m not mistaken, these are the new model.” Her short-haired colleague often shared tips on luxury brands—she’d picked up some knowledge.

Suppressing her joy, Fan Shengmei feigned surprise: “Good job, Xiao Guan—you’ve improved. Just one look and you knew.”

Qiu Yingying, unfamiliar with such things, asked: “Guan Guan, how much do these cost?”

“Hmm… under ten thousand.”

“What? Ten thousand for a pair of shoes?” Qiu Yingying gasped, then quickly added: “Sorry, Fan Jie, I didn’t mean it—I just…”

Fan Shengmei cut her off: “It’s fine, I know. No need to apologize.”

Qiu Yingying smiled thanks: “Thanks, Fan Jie. But Wang Handsome really likes you—he spent tens of thousands on a bag last time, now another ten thousand on shoes. He’s truly devoted—you should cherish him.” She hugged Fan Shengmei’s arm.

“Ugh, let go,” Fan Shengmei pretended to push her away: “You don’t understand our relationship—don’t meddle. Think about yourself. Working yourself to death every day—I worry for you.”

Qiu Yingying released her, carefree: “Don’t worry about me. After being fooled by that white scumbag, I realized Fan Jie was right—women must rely on themselves. As for boyfriends? Let fate decide.”

Though she often said this, Fan Shengmei didn’t believe Qiu Yingying’s naive view. But she wouldn’t crush her spirit, so she teased: “Oh? Is this still Little Earthworm? I hardly recognize you…”

Qiu Yingying blushed: “Alright, Fan Jie, stop teasing me. I’m not talking anymore—Guan Guan, I’m going to freshen up.”

Watching Qiu Yingying disappear into her room to change, Fan Shengmei asked: “Hey, Xiao Guan, how’s things going with Dr. Zhao?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“What does ‘I guess’ mean? Didn’t you two have dinner last time? Any progress since?”

Remembering their playful private exchanges, Guan Juer blushed: “Really, no progress.”

Seeing her reaction, Fan Shengmei understood. She nodded knowingly: “Alright, alright, I won’t ask. But Xiao Guan, I still advise you—romance is like warfare… if he won’t invest time and energy, once he gets what he wants, he won’t care about you.” Fan Shengmei launched into her full love-strategy lecture.

Guan Juer, shy and sensitive to words like “got what he wanted,” blushed furiously: “Oh, Fan Jie, you’re disgusting. I’m not talking anymore—I’m going to change.” She bolted away. As for Fan Shengmei’s love theories, she had her own values—she always let one ear in and the other out. Had she not been so timid, she might’ve argued back.

Watching Guan Juer flee, Fan Shengmei chuckled—youth… how wonderful.

The next day, just before quitting time, Fan Shengmei received a call from Wang Baichuan: “Xiao Mei, I’m downstairs at your office. Want to have dinner together? Are you free?”

She’d just gotten new shoes yesterday—she owed him a little kindness. Fan Shengmei drawled: “Since you’re already downstairs, so sincere—what can I say?”

“Great, Xiao Mei, see you soon.”

“Alright.”

Downstairs, seeing Fan Shengmei walk out gracefully, Wang Baichuan noticed her bag, shoes, and scarf, and stepped forward: “Here, Xiao Mei, let me carry that.”

“No need—it’s just a bag. Where are we eating?”

“A nearby Western restaurant—I’ve reserved a table. Come on, the car’s over there.”

On the way, Fan Shengmei half-heartedly responded to Wang Baichuan. She noticed his hesitation, but she wouldn’t prompt him—let him speak if he wanted to. Since their reunion, he’d always been like this—she knew it was just the usual love talk, but what good was it without material support? Love without substance was a castle in the air.

Amid elegant music, Fan Shengmei delicately cut a bite of steak, clinked her glass with Wang Baichuan, sipped wine, and gracefully wiped her lips. Seeing he only drank without eating, she said: “Eat. Just staring at me won’t fill your stomach.”

Wang Baichuan shook his head, earnestly: “No, Xiao Mei—just looking at you makes me full. You’re my feast.”

Fan Shengmei put down her knife and fork: “Don’t talk nonsense—or I’m leaving.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t. I won’t.” Wang Baichuan sipped wine, softly: “Xiao Mei, I realize we’ve never truly talked.”

“What do you want to say?” Fan Shengmei raised an eyebrow. Seeing him silently gaze at her, she ate something, then said: “Hmm… I actually want to praise you.”

Watching Wang Baichuan’s expression, she continued: “Our classmates mostly still work for others, bowing to bosses. You’re different—you started your own company, became a boss, and your business… is thriving.”

Wang Baichuan suppressed his joy, sipped wine, and smiled: “You really think so, Xiao Mei?”

Fan Shengmei smiled faintly: “Does it sound insincere?”

“Not at all—it’s perfect.” Wang Baichuan wore a look of profound contentment, drained his glass of red wine, wiped his mouth, and said: “Xiao Mei, I’m glad you feel this way. Then I won’t hide it from you anymore.”

Fan Shengmei’s face betrayed no emotion, but a bad premonition stirred within her.

“I’m sorry, Xiao Mei, I lied to you. The truth is, my car is rented,” Wang Baichuan muttered to himself, slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head like a sunny boy trying to ease the tension.

“Actually, I’ve held this back for a long time and never found the chance to confess. Now that I’ve said it, I feel better. ” As he spoke, Wang Baichuan noticed Fan Shengmei’s grim expression and hurriedly added: “Xiao Mei? What’s wrong? Are you angry? I never meant to deceive you. When we first met, you jumped to conclusions, and I never got a chance to speak—so I kept putting it off. Xiao Mei? Say something!”

Fan Shengmei stared at Wang Baichuan, thinking fast. She hadn’t expected him to lay it all out so bluntly—she was completely unprepared. When he called her name, she paused, then her gaze darkened as she said coldly: “Wang Baichuan, I never thought you were this kind of person. You’ve disappointed me deeply.”

Everyone is an actor. At this moment, Fan Shengmei slipped into full dramatic mode, her performance flawless, portraying herself as a victim utterly betrayed, denouncing Wang Baichuan’s crimes.

“Xiao Mei, I really didn’t mean to deceive you,” Wang Baichuan leaned forward eagerly, still mindful enough not to shout: “Believe me, Xiao Mei. It won’t take long—I’ll buy a house and a car in Shanghai.”

Fan Shengmei shook her head in disappointment: “Do you think I care whether you can buy a car or house in Shanghai? I care about your deception. Wang Baichuan, do you really see me as a woman who only cares about money? How could you think so little of me?”

“That’s it. Don’t contact me again.” With those words, Fan Shengmei rose to leave.

Wang Baichuan leapt up and grabbed her arm, his sudden movement causing the chair to screech against the floor—every diner turned to stare.

Seeing all the attention, Fan Shengmei yanked hard at his grip, struggling to break free: “Let go of me, Wang Baichuan! You’re hurting me. What are you doing in public like this?”

Wang Baichuan snapped back to himself and immediately released her: “Xiao Mei, I’m sorry—I got carried away and lost control.”

Fan Shengmei said nothing, lowered her head, covered her face, and bolted out the door—she wanted nothing more than to escape this place.

Seeing her run off, Wang Baichuan couldn’t just stand there—he sprinted after her, only to be blocked by an oblivious waiter. He shot the waiter a furious glance, yanked out his wallet, grabbed a handful of cash without counting, shoved it into the man’s hands, and kept running after Fan Shengmei.

“Xiao Mei! Xiao Mei! Wait for me! Just listen to me, okay? Xiao Mei?”

The strange stares of passersby made Fan Shengmei feel like needles pricked her back. She turned, crossed her arms, and took a deep breath: “What else do you want to say?”

“Xiao Mei, I was wrong to lie to you. But what I said was true—I really can buy a car and house in Shanghai. Once this deal closes, and two more after that, my parents will help with some money—we can easily afford the down payment.”

Down payment? Fan Shengmei sneered: “Wang Baichuan, I made myself perfectly clear—I’m angry because you lied. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

Fan Shengmei turned to leave.

Wang Baichuan didn’t care anymore—he shouted: “Xiao Mei, you say it’s because I lied to you. But what about you? Didn’t you lie to me? Do you really own a house? Do you really take pottery and flower-arranging classes?”

Her steps froze. Fan Shengmei whirled around, her face twisted: “How do you know that?”

He didn’t answer her question. He pressed on: “Xiao Mei, why can’t we work together? Why are you like this? We could…”

At this point, there was no dignity left to save. Fan Shengmei laid it all bare, cutting him off: “Work together? Marry you and have kids in a rented apartment? Spend ten or twenty years paying off your mortgage and car loan, building a nest for love? Me and you…”

Wang Baichuan stared at Fan Shengmei, who kept spitting out cold truths without pause. She felt like a stranger. He had countless words on his tongue—but looking at her like this, he couldn’t open his mouth.

Seeing Wang Baichuan’s silence, Fan Shengmei had no more to say: “Forget it, Wang Baichuan. Let it end here. Don’t look for me again.”

Fan Shengmei walked away, carrying the bag Wang Baichuan bought for tens of thousands, stepping in the shoes he bought for nearly ten thousand, wrapped in the scarf he bought for nearly ten thousand…

Staring blankly at Fan Shengmei’s retreating figure, Wang Baichuan stood with his mouth open, silent—as if he wanted to call her name…