Chapter 30
Yan Qing traveled nearly 60 kilometers to pick up Huang Yanxiang after her equestrian lesson.
Huang Yanxiang, who is usually very talkative, was sullen today and ignored several calls from "Mom" on her smartwatch.
At home, the nanny had prepared the meal, and Huang Qian was helping to set the table. Seeing Huang Yanxiang return, Huang Qian quickly went to greet her, her face beaming with a kind smile: "Baby's back. Are you tired today?"
Huang Yanxiang was unmoved by Huang Qian's enthusiasm, replying firmly, "Of course I'm tired!"
Huang Qian smiled and said, "Wash your hands and eat. Auntie made your favorite salted egg yolk chicken wings!"
"I'm not hungry." After saying these two words, Huang Yanxiang didn't look at her, walked straight into her small room, and slammed the door shut.
“This child…” Huang Qian looked at Yan Qing and awkwardly rubbed her hands. “Girl, come and eat.”
Gong Meiping picked up her chopsticks, took a piece of braised pork with preserved mustard greens, and put it in her mouth.
Huang Qian said, "Mom, you've been secretly eating fatty meat again. Be careful with your cholesterol!"
Ignoring Huang Qian's warning, Gong Meiping picked up another piece of food with her chopsticks and said as she ate, "When I die one day, it won't be from eating fatty meat, it will be from you two making me angry!"
Huang Qian muttered, "What did I do to offend you again..."
Gong Meiping rolled her eyes at her: "You're busy with work every day, and you just try to fool the kids. You don't even come home for the kids' birthdays. No wonder the kids are unhappy."
Gong Meiping's words immediately reminded Yan Qing. She recalled that the public PPT mentioned Huang Qian and Wu Chuan going on a business trip together, with the dates clearly listed, one of which happened to be Huang Yanxiang's birthday.
She didn't know how Huang Qian felt after hearing Gong Meiping's words.
At this moment, Gong Meiping called out, "Xiao Yan, sit down and eat."
Huang Qian complained, "Why didn't you serve me? I've been starving for ages too."
Gong Meiping snorted: "You're tough, you won't starve to death."
Huang Qian laughed: "My mom dotes on the younger generation, but she shows her true colors to me." She sat down at the table with a chuckle, looking no different from usual, but Yan Qing couldn't ignore her obvious dark circles and sallow complexion.
Huang Yanxiang hid inside the house and refused to come out. In the end, Yan Qing called the door open and brought in the food that had been reserved for her.
"They don't want to be friends with me anymore." Huang Yanxiang pouted, her usually strong-willed face showing an unusual sense of frustration.
Yan Qing didn't know what to say; she was terrible at comforting people.
The smartwatch rang, and Huang Yanxiang answered it. Cheng Jiaming's loud voice came through: "Xiangxiang, swimming tomorrow?"
"I'm not going," Huang Yanxiang said irritably.
Cheng Jiaming immediately became anxious upon hearing this: "Why? You're not going to play with me anymore?"
"Everyone betrayed me!" Huang Yanxiang accused.
"I will never betray you!"
"I don't believe you, swear it!"
"I swear! Even if the whole world betrays you, I will never betray you! If I do betray you, may I be punished by having Xiangxiang never speak to me again!"
Cheng Jiaming's earnest tone turned Huang Yanxiang's worry into joy. She finally realized that her stomach had been rumbling for a while, picked up her chopsticks, and ate the reheated food with relish. After finishing her meal and chatting with Cheng Jiaming, Yan Qing urged her to take a shower.
Yan Qing dried Huang Yanxiang's hair and drew the bedroom curtains. Exhausted, Huang Yanxiang quickly fell asleep.
Yan Qing left the bedroom and quietly closed the door.
The living room was dimly lit. Gong Meiping sat quietly in her wheelchair, her clay-sculpted face devoid of any expression.
Yan Qing looked around but didn't see Huang Qian.
"He went outside to smoke," Gong Meiping said.
Yan Qing said, "Then I'll go back first. Grandma, you should take a nap too." She then walked towards the door. As she was about to change her shoes in the entryway, she heard Gong Meiping say:
"She's fallen for a man again."
Yan Qing was startled and stole a glance at Gong Meiping. The other woman looked somber; clearly, she already knew about Huang Qian's affair.
"Don't look at me like that," Gong Meiping snorted heavily. "I may be old, paralyzed, and slow-witted, but I'm not blind, deaf, or stupid. On the contrary, my mind is much clearer than Huang Qian's!" A crack appeared on Gong Meiping's usually impenetrable face as she said with heartache, "I thought she would be more cautious than others because she had suffered in matters of the heart. Who knew she wouldn't learn from any of her experiences and would still eagerly jump into the fire!"
Yan Qing whispered in Huang Qian's defense: "That Wu Chuan said he had already separated from his wife and would get a divorce after the cooling-off period. Teacher Huang is also a victim..."
"She brought this on herself!" Gong Meiping clenched her two withered, bony hands and slammed them against the armrests of her wheelchair. "Even a rabbit knows not to eat the grass near its burrow, but she's the one who got herself into trouble right at her doorstep! People these days are so unfair. It takes two to tango. Clearly, both sides are at fault, but everyone's pointing the guns at her, while Wu Chuan gets away scot-free, can just walk away and go back to his original wife, all lovey-dovey. If you ask me, she should go after that man and fight him to the death! Sigh, I, Gong Meiping, have never been a bad person in my life, how did I raise such a good-for-nothing!"
Gong Meiping became more and more agitated as she spoke, gritting her teeth in anger. Yan Qing stood by, trembling with fear, worried that her blood pressure might be unstable.
She had always known that Gong Meiping was eccentric and not like the typical elderly woman. Huang Qian had told her that Gong Meiping was a powerful and decisive engineer at Dongdian Company in her youth. Since suffering a stroke ten years ago, her physical functions had deteriorated rapidly, and her personality had become sensitive, suspicious, irritable, and easily angered. The Gong Meiping Yan Qing met later was no longer the sharp and capable woman she once was. She guessed that ten years in a wheelchair had worn down the spirit and will of this former heroine.
Now, the elderly woman, who has experienced many twists and turns, has once again fallen into the vortex of fate, suffering for her only daughter. Thinking of this, Yan Qing felt sad as well.
After a while, Gong Meiping calmed down a bit. She pleaded with Yan Qing in her hoarse voice, "Xiao Yan, could you please go and check on her?"
Yan Qing searched around the neighborhood and finally spotted a lone figure by the flower bed.
Huang Qian sat on the rough gravel steps, gazing into the distance, lost in thought. Several cigarette butts lay around her, carefully gathered together with a tissue. Her right hand, pale fingers, held half a cigarette; she took a drag and slowly exhaled. As the bluish-gray smoke dissipated, a weary face was revealed without any attempt to conceal it.
Before Yan Qing even got close, Huang Qian noticed her and immediately stubbed out her cigarette.
"Is Wong Fei-hung asleep?" she asked.
"I'm asleep," Yan Qing replied.
Huang Qian rolled up the cigarette butt beside her with toilet paper and threw it into the trash can. "Come here, girl, sit with me for a bit."
Yan Qing also sat down along the edge of the flower bed.
Perhaps still caught up in the effects of nicotine, Huang Qian unconsciously kneaded the lighter and cigarette case.
Yan Qing wanted to offer some words of comfort, but didn't know what to say. After hesitating for a long time, she called out, "Teacher."
"I'm fine," Huang Qian said. "At school, all sorts of accusations and denunciations keep popping up, there's a new story every day. You wouldn't believe it, whenever there's a promotion, the letters of complaint fly in like snowflakes. Everyone's used to it, they don't even like reading them anymore." Huang Qian blew off a puff of cigarette ash that had fallen on her, looking quite nonchalant.
But soon she shook her head with a wry smile: "It's just that other people are reported for economic or academic issues, for money, fame, or profit. But I, your teacher, am reported for relationship issues, placing me at the very bottom of the reporting hierarchy."
Yan Qing said, "Don't think like that. It's normal for people to have feelings."
“I saw those posts on the BBS too. Everyone’s criticisms are valid. At our age, we still can’t see the truth of life, and we’re still caught up in love and romance. How can we not be ridiculed? Sigh!” Huang Qian said with a lighthearted self-deprecating tone. Yan Qing even saw the cheerful smile she usually wore when she was in a good mood on her face. Then, that smile faded, and a layer of guilt appeared on her pale lips: “I’m thick-skinned and don’t care what happens, but I’m a little sorry for Huang Feihong.”
"Teacher, you don't need to worry too much about Xiangxiang." Yan Qing wanted to tell her about Cheng Jiaming making Huang Yanxiang happy, but felt it was inappropriate and ultimately didn't bring it up.
Huang Qian nodded: "I know that child's personality. She's strong-willed and never suffers a loss. She and I never hold grudges overnight. It's you guys who can't hold your heads up high with me as your teacher."
“We never thought that way,” Yan Qing said.
Huang Qian opened the photo album on her phone named after her daughter and flipped through it from back to front. Time seemed to flow backward, and Huang Yanxiang, a bright-eyed and beautiful eight-year-old girl, kept shrinking and shrinking until she returned to her swaddling clothes.
"When I think back to when Huang Feihong was just born, he was so soft and tiny, nestled in my arms like a silkworm. I adored him so much," Huang Qian said with a gentle smile.
Looking at the baby on the screen, wrapped up like a silkworm cocoon with only a little red face showing, Yan Qing couldn't help but feel a pang of tenderness in her heart.
Then Huang Qian changed the subject: "Back then, postpartum hormones made me dizzy and I forgot that this little one was my daughter, Gong Meiping's granddaughter, with both of our blood flowing in her veins. How could she possibly be a soft girl? At that time, Professor Chen from our college and I gave birth one after the other. Professor Chen's baby was a son, a typical angel baby who would smile gently at his mother. Unlike my daughter, who would scratch me at the slightest provocation. Baby nails are so sharp, they almost disfigured me. So I later gave her a nickname—Huang Feihong."
Huang Qian's gaze lingered on a photograph of Huang Yanxiang at birth. Huang Qian, pale and lifeless, lay on the delivery bed, cradling a tiny infant in her arms. Beside her stood a man, his face radiating happiness. This must be Huang Yanxiang's father, the one who later cheated on her, turned against her and her daughter, and swindled a large portion of Huang Qian's fortune.
Huang Qian has kept this photo intact, probably for one reason only: it's her daughter's first glimpse into the world, a unique and precious memento. Nothing can diminish the perfection of this memory in her heart.
She stroked the worn-out screen of her phone, which had been used for many years, and said softly, "I once heard a phrase: 'Love has a next life.' At first, I didn't understand the meaning of those four words. Later, I understood that the purest love does not end with the passing of life. Just like me, even if I were to be reincarnated ten times and I had to choose, I would still choose Wong Fei-hung. I want to be her mother forever."
These words shocked Yan Qing. This was the first time she had ever heard someone express their love so clearly and directly.
Looking at Huang Qian from the side, she suddenly realized that, in a moment when Huang Qian should have been filled with resentment, anger, collapse, and vulnerability, a gentle, crescent-shaped smile lingered on her lips. She spoke only of her daughter, never uttering a word about the two men who had hurt her so deeply. On that face, already faintly etched with the marks of time, Yan Qing saw a woman's entire life—no matter how high, how far, how outstanding, or how remarkable her achievements, in the end, her most tender concern remained for her child.
Huang Qian exited the photo album, went to WeChat favorites, and opened the PPT that had ruined her reputation. She swiped her fingertips lightly, flipping through the pages one by one, and exclaimed, "It's so detailed. Even my research proposal isn't this detailed."
Yan Qing didn't speak, but how could she not hear the bitterness beneath her joke?
"Have you ever watched 'Young Justice Bao'?" Huang Qian asked.
"I've seen it." Yan Qing immediately thought of the TV series that she was both addicted to and afraid of when she was a child. When Feng Xin was in a good mood, he allowed her to squat in a corner where it wouldn't be in the way and watch TV for a while.
"There's a weapon inside that strikes fear into the hearts of all: the Rain of Pear Blossom Needles. Look at these words, so densely packed, don't they look like countless silver needles, nailing Huang Qian's name firmly to the pillar of shame?"
Yan Qing wanted to say something, but it felt like something was stuck in her throat, and she couldn't make a sound.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
