Chapter 16 Sending her away like merchandise
Seven days have passed.
Yan Shuang curled up in the down comforter, counting the patterns on the curtains.
On the seventh morning after returning from the Maldives, her parents were incredibly kind to her for the seventh day.
"Shuangshuang, are you awake?" Zhou Yaqin knocked on the door, and then the door was pushed open a crack. "Mom cooked your favorite sweet fermented rice balls. Get up and eat some."
Yan Shuang gripped the corner of the blanket tightly.
Is the mother who drugged her in the hotel seven days ago and sent her out like a commodity the same person as the smiling woman in front of her?
Yan Zhenye walked in, his tone unusually gentle, "Shuangshuang, Dad had the driver buy you your favorite pastry from that shop. Would you like to try some?"
She looked at her parents' eager faces.
In the past, she would have been flattered.
She would be happy all day just because of a word of concern from her parents.
But now, she only feels irony.
They were kind to her not because of her, but because she had accomplished her mission.
She forced a smile, a smile that looked more like a grimace: "No need, I'm not hungry."
Zhou Yaqin's smile froze for a moment, but she quickly put on an even gentler expression: "Then...then you rest first, Mom will come to see you later."
Yan Shuang did not respond. She locked herself in the room, drew the curtains, and curled up in the corner of the bed.
The maid knocked on the door several times, bringing in exquisite meals and coaxing her to eat a little in a soft voice.
"Second Miss, Madam specially instructed the kitchen to prepare these dishes, all of which are your favorites..."
"Take it away." She closed her eyes, her voice hoarse.
The maid hesitated for a moment, then finally left.
In the evening, Zhou Yaqin personally brought in a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup.
"Shuangshuang, have some soup, you haven't eaten all day..." She sat on the edge of the bed, her tone incredibly gentle.
Yan Shuang opened her eyes and looked at her mother's loving expression, suddenly feeling a sense of unfamiliarity.
"Mom," she said softly, "if I hadn't gone that night, would you still treat me like this now?"
Zhou Yaqin's smile faltered for a moment, then she forced a smile and said, "Silly child, what are you saying..."
"Will it?" Yan Shuang looked at her stubbornly.
Zhou Yaqin fell silent.
The answer is obvious.
Yan Shuang smiled, but tears silently streamed down her face: "I understand."
She pulled the blanket over herself, turned her back to her mother, and stopped talking.
Zhou Yaqin stood by the bed for a long time, finally sighed, gently put down the bowl, and left the room.
On the eighth day, Yan Shuang stood in the dressing room, her fingertips tracing a row of neatly ironed business suits. She finally chose a black turtleneck shirt, paired with a sharply tailored suit jacket, completely concealing the last trace of ambiguity on her neck.
The woman in the mirror was pale, with faint dark circles under her eyes, but her gaze was colder than ever before.
She applied lipstick, pursed her lips, and finally saw a hint of her former capable appearance in the mirror.
Downstairs, the sound of dishes clinking could be heard from the dining room, where Yan's parents were already sitting and waiting for her.
"Shuangshuang, come and have breakfast. Mom specially asked the kitchen to make your favorite shrimp dumplings." Zhou Yaqin smiled gently, her tone deliberately ingratiating.
Yan Zhenye put down his newspaper and offered, "Would you like the driver to take you? The weather's bad today."
Yan Shuang didn't stop walking, carrying her bag straight to the entrance: "No need."
Her voice was soft, yet as cold as ice.
Zhou Yaqin's smile froze, and Yan Zhenye frowned, but in the end, neither of them spoke again.
Yan Shuang pushed open the door, took a deep breath, and stepped into the morning light.
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