She is the rare sweetness in her painful and hopeless life.

The voice behind her carried a familiar cold authority, its praise laced with a superior’s condescension.

Xu Fengluan froze, unwilling to turn but unable to leave.

Compared to the noisy, bright front, this corridor was chillingly silent, lit only by a cold, round bulb. Stacked desks and chairs loomed like trapped beasts in the dimness.

Xu Fengluan took a deep breath, pretending not to hear, stepping forward to leave.

But the voice spoke again, “What?”

“After so long, don’t you want to catch up?”

Her heart jolted. Rain splashed through a broken window, landing in thick dust, the air heavy with mildew. Shadows on the floor vanished.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Xu Fengluan’s voice was icy, each word clipped at first, then flaring with sudden anger.

The other laughed carelessly, saying, “Really? I thought after all this time, my dear daughter would—”

“Shut up!”

Before she finished, Xu Fengluan spun around, shouting sharply.

“We have no relationship!” Her face was stone, jaw tight, chest heaving with furious breaths.

Now visible, the woman leaned against discarded furniture, her tailored gray-purple suit relaxed yet elegant. A V-neck shirt revealed a pearl necklace, its luxury clear even from a distance.

Hearing her daughter’s words, she showed no emotion, her fingers flicking a mother-of-pearl lighter, sparking a flame to light a slim cigarette.

In the glow, her dark eyes were deep, fine lines at their corners sharp and cold, her presence oppressive.

Most striking, though her features faintly echoed Xu Fengluan’s, standing together, no one would guess their connection—like they belonged to different worlds.

Smoke curled from her lips as she said casually, “You’re still my child, carried for ten months. How could you say such hurtful things to your mother?”

Long-buried irritation surged, inflating like a balloon inside Xu Fengluan. Her forehead pulsed, but her tone lowered, not as sharp but darkly somber.

“I’m just repeating your words. Have you forgotten?”

“Is that so?” Xu Nanzhu smiled, as if it were a trivial matter, saying, “I’m old, I forget things.”

What stung more than her lingering pain being dismissed as nothing?

Her hand clenched into a fist, Xu Fengluan barely restrained herself, her voice grinding through gritted teeth, “Then forget more, Madam. Best if you forget everything.”

Age was a sore spot—Xu Nanzhu could mention it, but others couldn’t.

Xu Nanzhu’s eyes narrowed, her gaze venomous, saying, “No matter what, a mother never forgets her child.”

“A child you disowned?” Xu Fengluan’s face grew colder, mocking, “Madam Xu, need I remind you of that day?”

Rain pooled on the floor, carrying years of dust, trickling through cracks.

The air grew tense, neither yielding, on the verge of eruption.

Xu Fengluan said, word by word, “I still remember the slap you landed on my face.”

“You told me to get out of your house, that we were done.”

Her tone shifted, a sudden laugh, “Or maybe check your safe? The document severing our ties should still be there.”

Xu Nanzhu’s face didn’t change, but the half-burned cigarette betrayed her unease.

“Madam Xu, we can’t play the loving mother-daughter act.”

Her softened edges, once soothed by another’s warmth, grew wild again, bristling with hostility.

“You were too disobedient,” Xu Nanzhu said slowly, her eyes helpless, like scolding a rebellious child.

As the rain intensified, the air darkened, light swallowed, water blocked by canvas shoes, splitting into two streams.

“Obedient?” Xu Fengluan raised a brow, retorting, “And you? Were you an obedient child?”

“I seem to recall you were kicked out, just like me.”

Xu Nanzhu’s face finally showed anger.

Xu Fengluan scanned her, feigning confusion, “Or did I remember wrong?”

Her tone hardened, “Wasn’t it you—”

Xu Nanzhu’s hand slipped, a spark burning her hand, her voice cutting in, “You’ve grown bold.”

Xu Fengluan shot back, “Had to grow up faster than most.”

Silence fell, the air heavier, their merciless words clashing. Xu Nanzhu hurt, but Xu Fengluan, wielding her wounds as weapons, fared no better. Brief satisfaction gave way to bleeding scars.

The cigarette fell, crushed under a heel.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Xu Fengluan, momentarily ahead, felt her emotions ease. Her clenched fist relaxed, revealing crescent-shaped marks in her palm. Her fingers brushed the thin fabric, as if touching the hair beneath the phone case.

Her rapid breathing calmed. She closed her eyes, then opened them, her voice steady but still cold, now edged with threat.

“You’re here as an honored alumna, right, Madam Xu?”

Not foolish, Xu Fengluan had been too angry earlier. Now calmer, she pieced things together.

Why meet in this chaotic, narrow space instead of openly seeking her?

“You don’t want our connection known either,” Xu Fengluan said, meeting her gaze.

Even after her dramatic freshman year, few knew of her tie to Xu Nanzhu. Most saw her as a rich kid, Xu Nanzhu as a career-driven, unmarried entrepreneur.

Xu Nanzhu met her eyes, dark with suppressed fury. A woman of her status couldn’t tolerate threats, yet…

Without lingering, Xu Fengluan turned to leave.

But Xu Nanzhu spoke, “Your grandmother’s sick.”

That line again.

Xu Fengluan’s step halted.

She couldn’t fathom why Li Jianbai and now Xu Nanzhu used this, as if that woman mattered so much, or cared for her deeply. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Absurd and laughable.

Xu Fengluan didn’t turn, only tilting her head, “What’s that to me?”

So one person’s illness erased all wrongs, and everyone had to indulge her whims?

Xu Fengluan neither wanted nor could understand.

“Madam Xu, trying to be a good daughter now?”

“Need I remind you how you were kicked out?”

“For choosing business over medicine, defying your parents’ wishes.”

“And me?” Xu Fengluan paused, fingers brushing her pocket, feeling the hair under the case.

“A tool, born through science to mend your ties with your parents.”

Others had asked—Chu Cheng included—curious about her foreign-looking green eyes, but Xu Fengluan never spoke of it. Only Li Jianbai, from childhood, and Liu Tingsong knew, finding it too painful to voice.

Even children of broken homes were conceived in love. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

But Xu Fengluan?

Not even that moment.

Her lowered lashes trembled. She thought she’d moved on, but the pain was just delayed, like a blow leaving her numb before the ache set in.

Water pooled deeper, soaking her shoes, staining them dark.

Her tense back ached. Xu Fengluan hunched, her voice slow, as if weighed by stone, “I was your gift to them, to carry on their grand medical legacy.”

“Oh, right, by my senior year, you changed your mind. Your great company needed an heir too,” she sneered, her laugh hollow, eyes dead.

No tobacco, yet bitterness flooded her tongue.

She thought Liu Tingsong would allow an exception tonight—some smoke, a few drinks. Not too much, just… she was hurting.

Even after so long, it still hurt.

She was useless, unable to cross this hurdle, unable to face or accept that she was Xu Nanzhu’s tool for freedom.

Her phone buzzed again. The closed door rattled in the wind, a narrow gap letting rain and light slip through, falling on her eyes and nose.

Like a lifeline dropped into a well, reaching someone drowning in emotion.

Enough for today.

The school had planned some speech, inspiring younger students with her story. Let Chu Cheng handle it—she had no strength left.

She just wanted to find Liu Tingsong and leave.

She wanted to go home.

Drink a little, hold San Jin, curl up in Liu Tingsong’s arms.

Xu Fengluan took a deep breath.

In this chilly autumn rain, fresh off exposing her scars, with someone she despised behind her, she thought of marrying Liu Tingsong.

China didn’t allow it, but they could go abroad—to where Liu Tingsong once stayed. She’d checked; same-s*x marriage laws there were solid. No need for publicity—just a small chapel, a tiny wedding. She had few friends anyway.

Liu Tingsong was vital to her.

In her painful, hopeless life, she was a rare sweetness, the first to pull her from the abyss.

She reached to push the door.

But Xu Nanzhu said, “Don’t you want to know why Liu Tingsong left you?”

“Or rather, aren’t you curious why she approached you?”

Xu Fengluan spun around, seeing Xu Nanzhu light another cigarette, exhale slowly, and remove it.

“Let’s make a deal.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

“I’ll tell you why, and you visit the hospital. How’s that?”

Though phrased as a question, her eyes were certain.

As expected, Xu Fengluan agreed.