Song Wan's hand trembled slightly, but she did not break free.
She let him hold her hand, and the warmth of his palm slowly seeped into her heart, like the morning sun illuminating her world.
After breakfast, the two went to the villa on the outskirts of the city and wiped the small tombstone together, placing a bunch of pretty daisies in front of it.
Song Wan looked up and saw that the sky had never been so blue. She smiled gently, took a deep breath, and realized that life really should be about subtraction. Letting go is not the same as forgetting, but rather about lightening your load and moving forward.
“Actually, I still keep the receipt from my prenatal checkup,” Song Wan said softly. “Because there are photos on it… although they’re not clear, you can still see the eyes and nose.”
Lin Zhaojiang's heart tightened, and he silently moved closer to her. His broad shoulders felt like a gentle haven, enveloping her petite body.
"What does she look like?"
“How can I describe it?” Song Wan chuckled. “Babies in the womb should all look pretty much the same, but I think daughters all look like their fathers. If she’s born, she might look a lot like you.”
Lin Zhaojiang felt a pang of sadness. "Wanwan, back then... how did you conduct your prenatal checkups?"
“I went to a small clinic,” she answered calmly. “Back then, I was afraid you would insist that I abort the child, so I secretly hid and didn’t dare go to a big hospital. Because big hospitals need to create a file and require an ID card, and with your abilities, you could easily find me…”
"Can you trust the diagnoses from those small clinics?"
"The equipment isn't very good," Song Wan said with a smile. "The conditions are quite basic, but it's still enough to determine if a child is healthy."
So, how did she live during that time?
Lin Zhaojiang wanted to ask more, but he didn't dare. Actually, he already knew the answer—Song Huai had told him everything when he confessed. During that time, Song Wan lived in the cheapest rental room, without even a decent bed. She had no money and had to carefully budget her eggs, buying them one by one. She worked in the kitchen of a small restaurant; because the work of washing dishes was paid daily, and the boss didn't check her ID, her whereabouts wouldn't be exposed.
That period was the darkest time of her life, and only the child in her womb was like sunlight shining through a crack in the wall, giving her hope.
Lin Zhaojiang hated himself for not finding her sooner, and hated himself even more for his momentary lapse in judgment that caused her so much suffering.
"Alright, it's all over now." Song Wan chuckled. These words were said to him, but more like she was saying to herself. "I didn't have that strange dream last night, and I believe it will never happen again."
"Mm." Lin Zhaojiang nodded, and together they cleaned up the area around the tombstone. They bowed and slowly walked back along the path.
He asked her in a low voice, "What are your plans for the future?"
Song Wan thought for a moment, "This book is still in its promotional period, and I have to cooperate with the company on promotion. I should prepare the new book in my spare time."
"Are you planning to keep writing like this forever?"
"Not necessarily." She smiled. "I know my talent is limited, so I have to work harder. But I also really want to be like Sister Ran and become a writer's agent."
“That’s not bad.” Lin Zhaojiang looked at her. “However, being an agent requires excellent communication skills and a network of contacts. If you really want to, I can…”
"No need," Song Wan interrupted him softly. "Sister Ran has already introduced me to some writers. I learn writing from them and sometimes discuss literary works. As for my future career path, I'll see what I'm better at."
Lin Zhaojiang narrowed his eyes; he only caught the part about what she said, "Sister Ran introduced me to a few writers."
What good medicine could Xiao Liran possibly be up to?
He was uneasy, but dared not show it too obviously, so he asked, feigning composure, "Which writer did Ms. Xiao... introduce to you?"
Song Wan smiled slightly, did not answer, and left first, making an excuse that she had to go to the publishing company.
Lin Zhaojiang followed closely behind, not letting her walk on her own. He said the area was remote, difficult to hail a taxi, and had little public transportation, so he had to take her.
After some tugging and pulling, Song Wan finally gave in and got into his car.
At this moment, SL Publishing Company is holding a small afternoon tea party.
The tea party wasn't large, but it was highly prestigious, with most of the attendees being top performers in the industry. Xiao Liran used her connections to pave the way for her writers, and as a promising new author, Song Wan was naturally among those she favored.
Throughout the tea party, Xiao Liran held Song Wan's hand as they weaved through the crowd, introducing her to literary figures and renowned booksellers whenever they encountered them.
"This is my newly signed author, she's got a lot of potential! ... Oh right, that's the book, tell me, isn't it incredibly popular right now? Hahahaha..."
"Oh, Mr. Wu! It's been a long time! ... My sister's writing is superb, and her novel plots are particularly ingenious. She's already quite famous on many online platforms and has accumulated a lot of fans!"
"Have you seen the bestseller list? My sister's already on the latest one!"
"What? My own sister?" Xiao Liran laughed heartily. "Yes! My own sister! So please take good care of me and help me out!"
She was talking happily on her end, while Lin Zhaojiang was watching from a short distance away, his gaze gradually becoming deep.
Soon, Xiao Liran finally felt a sense of unease and sneezed several times in a row. She asked Rachel to check if the air conditioner was broken. Rachel returned and told her, "Ms. Xiao, it's not broken. It's exactly 25 degrees Celsius, the most comfortable temperature for the human body!"
"Strange..." she muttered, then suddenly turned her head and saw Lin Zhaojiang with a cold face over there!
She finally understood what was going on.
It turns out that the saying "a killer gaze" isn't just a literary device...
Xiao Liran composed herself, picked up a cup of Earl Grey tea, and walked towards Lin Zhaojiang with a smile, greeting him politely and offering him some snacks.
Lin Zhaojiang glanced at her sideways, his face full of annoyance.
"Um... how did my tea party go?" Xiao Liran asked him cheerfully, trying to make conversation.
Lin Zhaojiang asked in a deep voice, "Isn't Wanwan a writer? Does she need to attend this kind of gathering? Does she need to act as your public relations hostess?"
"Hey, can you please not be so rude? This is a proper afternoon tea party, and all the people here are intellectuals!"
"Ha, a scholar?" Lin Zhaojiang curled his lips in disdain. "A refined scoundrel, perhaps?"
"you……"
Xiao Liran wasn't oblivious to the jealousy emanating from him; it was just that, as a woman herself, she could empathize with Song Wan's experiences and therefore felt even more sorry for her, wanting to do everything she could to create opportunities for her.
So she chose to ignore Lin Zhaojiang's dark face and teased him, "Old man, you don't understand. These days, the 'refined scoundrel' is a type that girls really like! Coincidentally, some of the writers who just joined my company are this type. I'll introduce them to Song Wan later!"
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