I’m more effective than cigarettes

In a few days, the autumn chill deepened. The trees lining the streets had withered, their fallen leaves swept away, leaving a desolate scene with fewer passersby.

With a polite inquiry, a discreet teahouse in S City welcomed a long-awaited guest.

The guest dressed low-key, a cap pulled low, black-framed glasses on their nose, and a mask covering most of their face. Only a few strands of white hair peeking from under the cap hinted at their identity.

The well-trained staff glanced briefly before averting their eyes, leading the guest to a private room and closing the door with care.

*—Click.*

The room sealed off the outside world. The woman by the window seemed oblivious, gazing outside, her unfocused eyes lost in thought. Only when someone sat beside her did she snap back.

Xu Fengluan didn’t speak first, glancing up before lowering her head.

Compared to before the hospital visit, Xu Nanzhu had visibly aged. The toll of sleepless nights was heavy: fine lines creased her eyes, white strands threaded her temples, and her sharp edge had dulled. It finally sank in that she was nearing fifty.

Unconcerned with Xu Fengluan’s silence, she poured herself tea, her technique amateurish, unaware of the tea’s type. After pouring, she set it on the table, untouched.

Xu Nanzhu turned, speaking abruptly, “Maojian from Yujun, crisp and smooth, slightly bitter with a sweet aftertaste. You should try it.”

Xu Fengluan nodded but didn’t move, saying only, “Speak.”

Feeling the bluntness, or perhaps urging her, she added, “Why did you ask me here?”

Since leaving the hospital, Xu Nanzhu had rarely contacted her, until last night’s call to meet here.

“Grandma’s been buried, at Nanyuan in the suburbs,” Xu Nanzhu said, unprompted.

During the funeral, they’d sent Xu Fengluan messages—not commanding as before, but simply sharing the address and details, asking if she could come.

Xu Fengluan had ignored them, not replying once. Xu Nanzhu hadn’t pressed, as if it was just a courtesy.

Xu Fengluan’s lashes flickered, her calloused fingers gripping the teacup, the thin, scalding walls burning her hand.

“If you have time, go take a look,” Xu Nanzhu said, sipping her tea.

Xu Fengluan stayed silent, her spine rigid, a faint ache spreading.

The atmosphere remained strained, only slightly less tense than the S University anniversary, no longer hostile but stiff and cold.

“Is that all?” Xu Fengluan pressed, impatient.

Xu Nanzhu set down her cup, shaking her head. She started to say something conciliatory but stopped, realizing Xu wouldn’t listen. Pushing further would only make things worse, so she gave up.

The cup settled, ripples circling the remaining tea.

Even Xu Nanzhu had no way with Xu Fengluan’s stubbornness. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Sighing, she took out a prepared item, placing it on the table and sliding it toward Xu.

It was the key Grandma had pressed into Xu Fengluan’s hand, later discarded by the bedside.

Xu Fengluan’s gaze dropped, lost in thought, feeling as if she still wore rain-soaked clothes despite the storm’s end.

“It’s what she left you,” Xu Nanzhu paused, then added, “Grandpa’s moved out. The house is untouched…”

“Your room, too.”

“They never touched it.”

Xu Nanzhu sighed softly. “If you have time, go see it.”

Xu Fengluan didn’t take the key, staying still.

To be blunt, she resisted it all. Accepting the key in the hospital was a fleeting softness for a dying woman, gone in an instant.

“Don’t reject it so firmly. Before, I…” Xu Nanzhu began, then froze, adding only, “Grandma’s will was to transfer the house to you…”

“I don’t want it!” Xu Fengluan’s voice rose, irritation flaring.

Ripples in the teacup stilled, then stirred again.

Xu Nanzhu’s last shred of patience vanished. Leaning back, arms crossed, she said, “It’s her will.”

“Don’t play family with me, Xu Nanzhu. You’re the one who was kicked out. Stop acting superior,” Xu Fengluan snapped coldly.

She’d only removed her mask upon entering, poised to leave anytime. Her green eyes glared coldly behind glasses, her hand unconsciously clenched.

Compared to Xu’s anger, Xu Nanzhu was calm, rubbing her brow helplessly. “If we can’t talk civilly, let’s make a deal.”

What did that mean?

Xu Fengluan’s guard went up, instincts flaring, recalling past costs.

Xu Nanzhu, more suited as a businesswoman than a mother, said calmly, “What do you say?”

Xu Fengluan’s frown deepened.

“Sign with my company,” Xu Nanzhu cast her hook.

“I’ll offer you the best contract, with maximum freedom. Do what you want, perform where you want, sing what you want. The company only provides resources—you decide whether to take them.”

The offer was generous, unmatched elsewhere, but…

Xu Nanzhu added, “Don’t refuse. Burning Meteor isn’t just yours, right?”

“You should think about them.”

Xu’s refusal caught in her throat, her face darkening.

“If that’s not enough,” Xu Nanzhu smiled, holding back a secret.

“How long do you think you can hide Liu Tingsong’s condition?”

Xu Fengluan froze, staring intently.

Xu Nanzhu, unhurried, poured tea and continued, “Your frequent hospital visits haven’t gone unnoticed.”

Xu Fengluan frowned.

Despite their caution, Liu’s status made secrecy impossible. Even with hospital confidentiality, clever people picked up clues.

“Liu Tingsong hid it before by staying abroad, but this time…” Xu Nanzhu smiled.

“You’re threatening me?” Xu Fengluan raised a brow, her gaze colder.

“It’s a deal.”

Xu Nanzhu shook her head. “Accept the house, visit Nanyuan, fulfill Grandma’s last wish.”

“In exchange, I’ll suppress the rumors about Liu Tingsong and give your band a top-tier contract.”

“Why should I agree?” Xu Fengluan took a deep breath, hating being controlled, especially by someone she despised.

Xu Nanzhu paused, countering, “Isn’t my sincerity enough?”

The teacup rose and fell.

“Want more?” Xu Nanzhu smiled, confident. “During her time back, Liu’s studio took on plenty of work, now delayed…”

“I know one music competition show reached out early, with high expectations. The industry’s buzzing for it. If they knew about Liu’s voice…”

Xu Nanzhu chuckled, stopping, then said, “My company secured a spot. If you agree, it’s yours.”

She drained her tea, setting it down. “Don’t rush to refuse. Think it over.”

“Since you think I owe you, consider this compensation.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

“I only have one child and no plans for more.”

“Why resist? It’s free money. Why not take it?”

With that, Xu Nanzhu stood to leave, adding, “Think carefully and contact me.”

Xu Fengluan sat frozen, the key untouched at the table’s center, glinting painfully under the light.

She slumped back, breathing deeply, unable to quell her emotions. Her eyes closed, chest heaving, veins pulsing at her temple, lingering.

After half an hour, the door reopened.

Xu Fengluan, still in her disguise, strode out, steps swift, reaching her G-Class parked by the road. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Inside, Liu Tingsong waited in the passenger seat, dressed in a white skirt, long hair loose, her cool, distant eyes softening instantly upon seeing Xu, warm and gentle.

She raised her phone, showing pre-typed words.

[You’re back? What did she say?]

The car door slammed open and shut, the cabin shaking.

Liu remained calm, her gentle eyes reflecting Xu’s face.

Last night, during Xu Nanzhu’s call, Liu had been there, not interfering with Xu’s decision to go, only insisting on coming along, even if it meant waiting in the cramped seat.

Xu sat, her brows still knitted despite efforts to relax, saying only, “Let’s go home.”

She didn’t mention the meeting, unwilling to bring it up.

But Liu reached out, taking Xu’s left hand, her cool fingers slipping between Xu’s, interlocking effortlessly.

Xu tried to pull away, but Liu held tight.

Leaning in, Liu pressed her forehead to Xu’s, her tame eyes full of comfort.

“Liu Tingsong, don’t mess around.”

“I’m pissed right now.”

Xu took another deep breath, reaching for her pocket, only to find the cigarette pack gone.

She froze. Her emotions had been unstable lately, the so-called withdrawal a torturous cycle of fleeting highs and long struggles. Cigarettes had become her crutch, always on hand.

So why were they missing?

She looked at Liu, who met her gaze shamelessly.

The cigarette thief showed no guilt, even seeming justified.

“Liu Tingsong, give them back,” Xu said, holding back.

But Liu produced something else, pressing it into Xu’s hand.

Xu’s brow twitched. Having shopped with Liu, picking and paying for items, she knew exactly what it was.

Liu hooked her arms around Xu’s neck, her lips forming words.

[I’m better than cigarettes.]