Chapter 91: The Bitterness of Fan Shengmei

In a daze, Fan Shengmei heard someone knocking on her door.

“Sister Fan, Sister Fan, are you in?”

The voice was familiar—it was Qiu Yingying’s, always energetic and full of life. Every day she saw Qiu Yingying bouncing around even when exhausted, Fan Shengmei lamented how youth slipped away and beauty faded; after all, she too had once been naive, full of hope for the future.

Weak and foggy, Fan Shengmei forced her eyes open, opened her mouth to respond to Qiu Yingying, but found her throat burning with pain—she couldn’t speak.

Outside, Qiu Yingying kept calling. Fan Shengmei struggled to sit up, but her body was weak and limp; she couldn’t rise.

Fortunately, after a few calls, Qiu Yingying, seeing no reply, assumed Fan Shengmei was still asleep and simply opened the door and walked in.

“Sister Fan, it’s time. If I hadn’t seen the key at the door, I’d have…” Qiu Yingying, now close, saw Fan Shengmei’s listless expression, cracked and purple lips, and extreme pallor, and rushed forward to shake her: “Sister Fan? Sister Fan? Are you okay? … Sister Fan? Say something!”

Fan Shengmei rolled her eyes and croaked, “Little earthworm, stop shaking me. Get me some water.”

“Huh? Oh, right, wait a sec, Sister Fan.” Qiu Yingying dashed out and returned with a cup of water.

She helped Fan Shengmei lean against the headboard, fed her some water, then touched her forehead: “Oh? So hot? Sister Fan, should I take you to the hospital?”

Hospital? Register, examine, IV, medicine, take a day off—where would the money come from?

“It’s nothing serious. Don’t trouble yourself. Just take some medicine and rest a day.”

“But Sister Fan, you’re…”

Fan Shengmei weakly interrupted: “Go on. Get me some medicine. Thank you, little earthworm.”

“Alright…” Qiu Yingying tucked the blanket around Fan Shengmei, went out to find medicine, fed it to her, then thoughtfully bought porridge, eggs, and pickles from the gate of the compound.

After bustling all morning, it was nearly time for work. Qiu Yingying hadn’t eaten breakfast, so she washed her face and brushed her teeth in a flash. As for makeup? Since working under Wang Yan, she’d never bothered—she was always barefaced.

A knock came precisely on the door: “Xiao Qiu, let’s go.”

“Coming, Brother Wang!” Qiu Yingying quickly replied, dried her face, rushed back to her room, grabbed her bag, then dashed to Fan Shengmei’s room, checked on her, and said: “Sister Fan, I’m off to work. I bought breakfast—left it on the table. Remember to eat. Oh, and if anything happens, call me anytime. Bye, Sister Fan, rest well.”

She weakly replied, watched Qiu Yingying speed out the door, then picked up her phone and called her boss to take a day off.

After hanging up, Fan Shengmei pulled the blanket tight, lay on the bed, stared blankly at the ceiling, and silent tears slid down her temples.

She was so damn wronged. After all these years, she dared not even go to the hospital when sick, dared only to take one day off, and just endured it alone at home.

If Qiu Yingying, the cohabiting girl who cared for her, hadn’t been there, would she have died silently in this cramped room in the vast city of Shanghai—only discovered when her corpse stank?

The more she thought, the more unbearable it became—Fan Shengmei wept uncontrollably…

On a wide, flat road, a black A8 slipped into a gap and swerved right, successfully cutting in. The driver behind, dazed from morning fatigue and failing to brake in time, nearly rear-ended it and furiously honked.

Wang Yan pretended not to hear, turned up the music slightly, and kept searching for openings to move forward.

After holding it in all this time, Qiu Yingying couldn’t hold back: “Brother Wang, Sister Fan is sick.”

“Worried?”

“A little.”

“I think you should discuss this with Guan Juer or Andy. All I can do is give you a day off to care for her.”

To be fair, if Fan Shengmei didn’t constantly badger them with her outdated mate-selection standards and love-game theories, corrupting these two young women just entering society, she was still decent enough.

After all, she truly did care for Qiu Yingying and Guan Juer—helped them solve problems, gave advice. For someone who was merely a roommate with no blood tie, that was enough.

“Oh, alright… but no need to take a day off. I’ll wait until Sister Fan can’t hold on anymore and calls me.”

…………

In Tongzhou, at Bao Yifan’s large villa.

“Mm, I understand. Keep an eye out. Report any developments immediately.”

Noticing Bao Yifan’s furrowed brow after hanging up, his father sipped his porridge and asked: “What happened?”

“Nothing major. Some rumor online claims our Bao Group products are flawed. Our quality control has always been strict—I suspect someone’s gone mad trying to extort us. We’ve already sent people to handle it.”

“Don’t be careless. I feel something’s off.” After a moment’s thought, the old man warned—decades of business experience taught him that winds begin at the tips of grass, waves form from tiny ripples. Nothing happens without cause; every whisper could be a malicious strike from a competitor.

Changing the subject, he asked: “By the way, you wanted to partner with Shengxuan—how’s it going? Any progress?”

At this, Bao Yifan smiled: “No major progress yet. Still in talks.”

“I’ve heard rumors—you’ve got designs on Shengxuan’s CFO. Yifan, don’t blame me for saying this, but if you’re just playing around, fine. If you’re thinking of bringing her into the family, I won’t allow it.” Bao Yifan’s mother spoke as if it were obvious—given their wealth, couldn’t her son have any woman he wanted? And he was good-looking, young—how many had she seen?

Bao Yifan didn’t take it seriously: “Mom, it’s all speculation. Why bring this up?”

“I’m warning you now, so it doesn’t get ugly.” His mother glared at him: “I don’t get it—what’s wrong with your Uncle Li’s daughter? You grew up together. She’s beautiful, well-mannered, our families have been close for generations—this is perfect. Why can’t you make your father and me happy?”

“It’s too early, Mom. Why rush?” Seeing she was about to continue, Bao Yifan quickly said: “Dad, I’m heading to the office. I need to look into this properly—see if we have any real issues. Bye, Mom.” He set down his bowl and left.

“Hey, old Bao.” His wife frowned: “Look at this kid—he runs off after two words. And you? Is it only me worrying about his future? Isn’t he your son? You don’t want grandkids? I do.”

The old man nodded vaguely: “Yes, yes, you’re right. I’ll talk to him later.”

His wife ignored him, slammed down her chopsticks, and walked off.

The old man didn’t even lift his eyelids…

In the Qu family villa, Qu Lianjie detailed the new client he’d met: “Dad, this is a huge deal—you’ve got to back me.” He couldn’t help glancing at Qu Xiaoxiao, who sat across, gritting her teeth.

Qu Yongquan mused: “Lianjie, the key to business is caution. Don’t just believe your friends—investigate yourself. Do you know this client’s background?”

“Oh Dad, relax. I called my friends in Hong Kong the same day—absolutely solid. Powerful, with plenty of overseas assets.” He pulled out his phone, scrolled a bit, and handed it over: “Look, Dad. Everything’s clear.”

Qu Yongquan examined it briefly, then smiled: “Good, good, Lianjie. Don’t hesitate—go ahead. I fully support you.” He didn’t fully believe it, but it seemed credible enough for now—he’d verify later. Still, he praised his son’s effort.

Noticing Qu Xiaoxiao quietly using her phone, Qu Lianjie quickly stood and snatched it: “Sister, you don’t need to worry. I’ve got more experience than you—I can handle this.”

Seeing Qu Yongquan’s expression darken, Qu Xiaoxiao sat back down: “Pfft, what’s so impressive?”

Qu Yongquan glared at Qu Xiaoxiao: “What kind of behavior is this? You can’t find clients yourself, yet you want to steal your brother’s? Is that acceptable?”

Having lived together for over twenty years, she knew him well. Seeing him angry, Qu Xiaoxiao’s mother quickly smoothed things over: “Hey, old Qu, why get mad at Xiaoxiao? If Lianjie succeeds, our family rises another level. Here, Lianjie, try this dish—I practiced for a long time.”

Qu Lianjie smiled broadly: “Thank you, Auntie, I can serve myself.”

What a scene of filial piety.

Qu Xiaoxiao wasn’t blind to the tension. She ate quietly, saying nothing.

After dinner, Qu Xiaoxiao and her mother left the villa, found a quiet spot, and discussed strategy.

“Mom, if Lianjie pulls this off, I’ll have nothing left.”

“You’re just not trying hard enough. Sigh…”

Qu Xiaoxiao pouted, feigning grievance: “I didn’t want this, Mom~~ Business is tough, you know. Haven’t I been working hard?”

Her mother rolled her eyes: “I know you. Last time your father yelled at you—why? Still saying you worked hard? You vanished for days, ran around outside, and lied to me?”

“Mom~~” Qu Xiaoxiao dragged out the word, dejected: “Now it’s like this—what good am I? We need a plan, but where do I find such a wealthy client?”

“At least you’re worried now. Fine, go to work. You’ve got to show some results.”

“But…”

“Go. I’ve got you. I’ll think of something.”

“Alright, I’m off.” Qu Xiaoxiao trusted her mother completely—“I’ve got you” was the most comforting phrase she’d ever heard. Since childhood, her mother always delivered.

Watching her daughter walk away, Qu Xiaoxiao’s mother began a frantic mental storm, silently calculating.

If Lianjie took over, and Qu Yongquan fell ill or died, they’d be ruined. Even if not thrown out, they’d be cast aside—she’d never liked Lianjie.

The thought terrified her. Better to prepare early, anticipate all outcomes. After long consideration, she pulled out her phone and dialed: “Let’s meet somewhere…”

…………

Qiu Yingying and Guan Juer didn’t work overtime today. They returned to Happy Valley together in Wang Yan’s car.

They bought some light meals from the restaurant by the gate and returned to 2202.

“Sister Fan, we’re back! How are you?” Qiu Yingying called out as she opened the door.

Fan Shengmei hadn’t been well. She’d slept through the afternoon, only to receive another call from her mother demanding money—her useless brother had caused trouble again, his wife fled, and now the in-laws had come to her parents’ door.

Her mother didn’t care how Fan Shengmei was—she even suggested she quit her apartment, reclaim the deposit, and move into her company dorm? Fan Shengmei had nothing to say. She didn’t know what to say.

What could she do? They were her parents. How could they manage with the children?

But where could she get that money now? She could only say she’d borrow it tomorrow to buy time. Right now, she lay in bed crying, lamenting her miserable fate.

Hearing the voices outside, Fan Shengmei croaked: “I’m fine.” Then wiped her tears and opened the door.

“Sister Fan, why are you crying?” Guan Juer asked, stepping forward.

Qiu Yingying placed the food on the table: “Shouldn’t we still take you to the hospital, Sister Fan?”

Fan Shengmei replied listlessly: “It’s nothing serious. Just sleep another day—I’m grateful to you both.” She truly was grateful. She hadn’t expected them to care so much. Guan Juer had skipped her date with her boyfriend just to come back. And Qiu Yingying—no doubt had skipped overtime, returning specially. Fan Shengmei knew Wang Yan’s company paid 1.5x the legal overtime rate.

“Then… alright.” Qiu Yingying exchanged glances with Guan Juer: “Sister Fan, we brought you some meals. We know you have no appetite—everything’s light. Let’s eat together?”

Moved by this warmth, Fan Shengmei burst into tears and hugged them both: “Guan Guan, Xiao Qiu, thank you so much. Thank you.”

“Oh, Sister Fan, it’s nothing. You’re too polite—it’s what we should do. Come on, stop crying.” Guan Juer comforted her.

Qiu Yingying patted Fan Shengmei’s back: “Yes, Sister Fan, let’s eat. After dinner, rest well tonight. Tomorrow you’ll be your charming self again.”

Fan Shengmei let out a weak laugh: “Charming? If I could, I’d rather be a man. Alright, alright—you two worked all afternoon—you’re hungry. Eat.”

Seeing Fan Shengmei’s low spirits, Qiu Yingying and Guan Juer deliberately steered conversation toward light topics, hoping to lift her mood and get her to eat more.

Fan Shengmei should have smiled—but her eyes were full of tears.

Watching Fan Shengmei silently eat, heads down, the two exchanged glances. Guan Juer shook her head. Qiu Yingying gave a knowing nod.

The table fell silent, broken only by chewing and the clink of chopsticks and bowls.

After eating, they sat with Fan Shengmei, chatting until she fell into a deep sleep.

Quietly closing the door, Qiu Yingying and Guan Juer whispered in the room.

“Guan Guan, Sister Fan has something on her mind.”

“She always has.”

“Then what should we…”

Guan Juer interrupted: “Yingying, if Sister Fan doesn’t want to talk, we shouldn’t pry.”

“Mm… alright. You’re right. Even if she spoke, we could only comfort her—we couldn’t really help. Sister Fan’s always been the one helping us. She doesn’t need our comfort.”

"Oh my, Yingying, you’ve made a lot of progress lately..."

“Just a little, just a tiny bit,” Qiu Yingying chuckled. “Hey, by the way, Guan Guan—should we tell Sister Andy about this? She’s so capable; if Sister Fan needs help, she’ll definitely find a way.”

Guan Juer thought for a moment: “Hmm… let’s not bother Brother Wang and the other two today. I’ll mention it to Sister Andy on my way tomorrow.”

The two laughed and played for a while, then went back to their own tasks. Guan Juer pursued romance alongside her studies; Qiu Yingying studied even more during her free time.

The next day, Fan Shengmei went to work despite being ill—she simply couldn’t afford to be sick.

Guan Juer brought up the matter with Andy on the way; Andy simply replied, “Got it,” and said nothing more.

She knew Fan Shengmei handled affairs with finesse—her work was certainly flawless. So it must be a personal or family issue. As for personal matters, Andy didn’t want to comment; she had already seen exactly what kind of person Fan Shengmei was. As for family problems, she had no obligation to intervene.

Wang Yan’s life had always been as plain as water; passion came only at night—and only when Andy wasn’t otherwise occupied.

After returning, he handled the company’s backlog of matters and oversaw operations targeting the Bao family and the Qu family—nothing else remained to be done.

Because of his actions, Tan Zongming noticed the signs, realized Wang Yan hadn’t deceived him, and began preparing his own move. Naturally, Andy also became busy.

Just as with the Liang family, Wei Zhijie had rallied a group to join in, and the fight had dragged on for nearly half a year. The Bao family was no different—it couldn’t be toppled in a short time. The Bao Group was a billion-yuan conglomerate, based domestically. In Tongzhou, it was practically a local emperor, with deep-rooted ties across every level and sector, all requiring careful coordination.

But Bao Yifan had neither the time nor energy to harass Andy—that was already a victory. As for his eventual downfall, that was punishment. The Bao family held substantial overseas assets; living as an ordinary wealthy person would be fine. But if Bao Yifan still refused to learn his lesson, then his death would be deserved—he’d have to find out whether a Chinese life lost abroad met Satan or the King of Hell.

One must admit, Wang Baichuan was still the same Wang Baichuan—utterly groveling. He’d somehow heard about Fan Shengmei’s family troubles and thought he had another chance; perhaps if he rushed to help, he could win her back.

He callously called Fan Shengmei to tell her that the man her brother had beaten had relatives in the hospital who were helping him—making it easy to get medicine, and clearly planning to extort them. He earnestly offered advice and solutions.

Fan Shengmei despised this man who had once exploited her, let alone now that he knew her family’s sordid secrets—wasn’t he digging deeper into her shame? She said nothing, simply hung up with a “Goodbye,” offering no thanks.

Back at home, Fan Shengmei had no choice—she couldn’t let her parents and nephew be tormented. She had to use money to solve it.

But she had no money. She’d borrowed from everyone around her; the two young girls beside her had no savings either—they barely had enough for themselves. In the end, she could only turn to Andy. But Andy had been working overtime on the Bao family case and hadn’t had a chance to speak with her—so the matter faded away.

Fan Shengmei endured her family’s eight daily calls demanding money, weeping helplessly, while smiling and continuing to drink and mingle with Qu Lianjie, naturally engaging in intimate acts with him.

Meanwhile, Wang Baichuan couldn’t accept defeat—his little Mei Mei’s troubles were his troubles. But after that day, Fan Shengmei stopped answering his calls; he tried twice, then gave up—he couldn’t risk leaving a worse impression.

After much thought, Wang Baichuan dug out the business card Qu Xiaoxiao had given him long ago. Without hesitation, he called. As for Wang Yan and Andy—he remembered them, but without contact info, what could he do?

Qu Xiaoxiao was already frustrated—her days were filled with work, and she was trying to find a major client. She hadn’t even had time to pursue the doctor she’d fallen for at first sight, let alone deal with a trashy woman she looked down on—and they’d already broken ties, so it was none of her business. After listening to Wang Baichuan’s story, she treated it as a joke. She hung up and immediately blocked him—let whoever it was fend for themselves.

On the other end, Wang Baichuan had been played. Aside from cursing Qu Xiaoxiao, he could do nothing. He could only keep watching Fan Shengmei’s family affairs, waiting for the right moment to grovel again.