When she was young—fragile, afraid of both wind and rain—she clung stubbornly to right and wrong, clung to every single loss. After growing up, when she stood in a higher place, she realized that those past fixations did not carry much meaning.

Whether she had it or not, whether she gained or lost it, she was still herself.

Of course, she was not grateful for past suffering and loss. She was only grateful to the version of herself who had never given up, who spared no effort to become better.

Because of this accident, Jin Zhao’s relationship with her grandparents became closer—her aunt’s as well.

Their day-to-day contact increased. After her grandparents returned home, they even mailed her specialties from Jinjue Town twice.

Jin Zhao did not resist this kind of contact.

Just as she told Meng Yanxi, her grandparents had indeed protected her before, many times. Whether it was their initial protection of her within the Jin family, or later quietly sending her money when she was in England—those moments of help in times of need were real. She did not want to deny everything just because of one instance of not being defended.

After all, in this world, flawless love could only be given by a mother. Everyone else was merely family. She could not demand such harsh standards from everyone.

Jin Zhao stopped being greedy from a very young age.

Grandma could get out of bed now and walk with a cane. Jin Wenyi and her husband were usually busy with work and had neglected their parents; this accident left Grandma feeling very guilty. During the May Day holiday, Jin Wenyi planned to go back to visit and asked Jin Zhao along on WeChat.

Jin Zhao was lucky this semester. After finishing classes on the Wednesday before May Day, she had no more classes. May Day happened to cover the following Wednesday as well. Calculated together, she had a full half-month of vacation.

At the same time, Wang Nan sent her a public-account article on WeChat.

Wang Nan: 【The gardenias in Jinjue Town have bloomed. Teacher Zhao Zhao, are you coming back to see the flowers?】

Ever since Wang Nan went to Jinjue Town once during the Spring Festival, she had come back and urged her parents to take over a guesthouse there—a typical mama’s girl: “when there’s trouble, PUA the parents,” “parents in their fifties are at the perfect age to go all out.”

Because she now had property over there, Wang Nan referred to Jinjue Town as “going back” every time she mentioned it. Knowing Jin Zhao was a local, she always liked inviting her along.

Jin Zhao had already declined twice before because she was busy. This time, it would be awkward to refuse again. Coincidentally, Jin Wenyi was also asking, so she agreed to both sides.

Meng Yanxi, sitting beside her, said with a strange tone, “A real master of time management, Teacher Zhao Zhao.”

Meng Yanxi was jealous.

At the end of April, he had to go to Singapore. Jin Zhao happened to have a full half-month of vacation over May Day, and this time he had wanted to take her out with him. Instead, someone else got there first.

Jin Zhao and Jin Wenyi agreed to return to her grandparents’ home together on May Day itself. Meng Yanxi happened to be away then, and 1119 had also been taken by Luo Heng to play. To avoid the travel rush, Jin Zhao bought a high-speed rail ticket three days early and went back first.

Worth mentioning was that, to prevent 1119 from doing anything embarrassing again, before Luo Heng picked the cat up, Jin Zhao put 1119 through an intense round of special training— including but not limited to forcibly pressing the cat in front of the computer while she wrote papers, making the cat watch arthouse films, making the cat watch the Queen of England’s speeches… Only after she was sure that 1119 had been thoroughly brainwashed, to the point where it was entirely possible for the cat to perform fluent British pronunciation for Luo Heng, did she feel at ease handing it over.

The side effect was that when 1119 was taken away, its gaze was vacant, and it did not even look back. If cats could post online, Jin Zhao might have seen something like “the pain of the original family” on Xiaohongshu.

Jin Zhao did not tell her grandparents in advance that she was coming back early. She booked a long-stay hotel and went to Jinjue Temple the next day to burn incense.

The Buddha might not grant her wishes, but when she was young and lost, with nowhere to go, coming here had become a habit. Not necessarily to ask for anything—just to listen to the sound of bells and chimes in the mountains, to breathe in the gardenia fragrance along the way.

When she came out, it was already afternoon. On a whim, Jin Zhao decided to go back to her grandparents’ home and have dinner together in the evening.

As if guided by something unseen, she did not tell them in advance. What happened afterward was almost like divine intervention—so that she could see certain things clearly as early as possible, and from then on stop deceiving herself, stop drinking poison to quench her thirst as she chased warmth that would never belong to her, and never should have belonged to her.

The countryside house had been renovated. Her grandparents had worked diligently all their lives; the courtyard was planted with flowers and greenery, attracting butterflies and bees.

The courtyard gate was left ajar. Jin Zhao gently pushed it open and heard Jin Wenhui’s voice coming from inside the house.

Hearing her own name, Jin Zhao stopped in her tracks.

-♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

Singapore has a tropical rainforest climate—summer all year round—but because the air-conditioning is turned up too high, indoors feels like winter, while outside is stifling and sticky.

Lu Jingyue disliked this place, but cold-blooded animals seemed to suit it well. Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window making a phone call, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, he revealed his superior height and sharp, defined muscle lines.

Lu Jingyue sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone. Meng Yanxi spent most of the time listening to the person on the other end reporting, speaking very little, yet Lu Jingyue still keenly caught the two keywords “Jin Wenhui” and “paternity test.”

Meng Yanxi had obtained the paternity test results of Jin Wenhui and his son through improper means, yet schemed to keep it hidden. He let neither party involved know. Instead, afterward, he arranged for someone to “boldly” yank out strands of Lin Yao’s son’s hair at school. At an age when pain could not be hidden, the little boy burst into loud tears, and Lin Yao rushed to the school.

It looked like a move that startled the grass and alerted the snake, yet it was his usual cold-blooded, calculating method. As if he had done nothing, and yet as if he had done everything.

Startling the grass—who panicked?

Of course, the one with secrets panicked, because of guilt.

At this point, what would someone with secrets do, afraid that things would eventually be exposed?

Make plans for themselves in advance. Amass money, or leave a way out.

“When you strike at a rat, you still have to mind the vessel. You really have no scruples,” Lu Jingyue commented.

Meng Yanxi lifted his eyelids slightly and said indifferently, “That’s exactly why you mind the vessel when striking at a rat. If you let the rats kill each other, you don’t need to.”

As far as he knew, Lin Yao had been draining Jin Wenhui’s money all these years. Jin Wenhui was quite miserable—his business was in shambles, and at home his wife and children constantly reached out for money. He was overwhelmed. Afraid that if his wife learned of his true financial situation she would run off with the children, he borrowed money from outside to satisfy his delicate young wife, leaving himself buried in debt.

Lin Yao planned carefully. On one hand, she secretly saved a private stash; on the other, she left herself a way out—she still had not given up on having a child with Jin Wenhui and had recently started IVF.

Of all relationships, spouses are both the closest and the most distant. Now she thought Jin Wenhui had already grown suspicious. Pressing him for money would only push him harder. When Jin Wenhui finally reached the limit of his endurance, he could sit back and watch a fine show of mutual destruction.

And from start to finish, his own hands were clean.

He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t even leaked the paternity test results. He had merely arranged for someone to pull out a few strands of a child’s hair. That was just kids being rough—who knew the child’s mother would overthink it?

But what did that have to do with him?

Even if Jin Zhao were to learn something in the future, she couldn’t blame him. He really hadn’t done anything.

Lu Jingyue gave a mocking laugh. “When the city gate catches fire, the fish in the moat suffer. Let alone two rats fighting. Have you ever thought about it—if two rats tear the house apart, when the beam falls, who will it hit?”

Meng Yanxi’s expression changed slightly.

-♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞♥︎ ྀི

Jin Zhao had never imagined that she would stumble upon the entire process of her family sitting together, plotting her fate.

Even television dramas wouldn’t dare write it like this.

She heard Jin Wenhui say, “Lin Yao still wants another daughter and plans to do IVF.”

Grandpa said, “A thriving family is a good thing. If you want one, then have one. How much are you short?”

Jin Wenhui said, “Two hundred thousand.”

Grandpa and Grandma fell silent for a moment. Grandma said, “We don’t have that much money anymore. Maybe you could ask your younger sister to borrow it.”

Jin Wenhui said, “These past few years, I’ve borrowed tens of thousands from Wenyi bit by bit as well. She still has a son to raise, still has to buy him a house and a car and pay for his marriage.”

Grandma said, “Then what do you mean?”

Jin Wenhui said, “Jin Zhao should have money on hand. As far as I know, Sui Normal University provides a settling-in allowance. I just don’t know whether it’s paid in one lump sum.”

Grandma was silent for a long time. “All these years, she’s been on her own. It’s been very hard for her. That might be money she relies on to survive.”

Jin Wenhui said, “Did Wenyi ever tell you about her boyfriend? With the Meng family’s level of wealth, she won’t be able to endure hardship.”

Grandma said, “That’s the Meng family’s money, not hers. And they’re only dating, asking the man for money would make people look down on her. Lingling might not even be willing.”

Jin Wenhui said, “Supporting one’s parents—how does that make people look down on you?”

Grandma said, “She has an obligation to support her parents, but she has no obligation to help you raise your wife and children.”

Those words seemed to anger Jin Wenhui. He suddenly raised his voice. “So I raised her for nothing? Don’t forget—she has what she has today because I provided her with a good education from a young age!”

Grandma fell silent.

Seeing this, Grandpa tried to smooth things over and ease the tension between mother and son. “If it’s just an emergency, it’s not impossible to try. But after this is over, this money must be paid back to her.”

Jin Wenhui said, “It’s just for an emergency. I’ve already had the temple masters look at it. For the past nine years, I, Jin Wenhui, have been plagued by petty people, but there’s a major cycle every ten years. Once next year passes, my luck will turn, and cash flow will recover quickly. Then I’ll use this money to pay her back. I won’t ask her to support me.”

Grandma remained silent.

Grandpa thought for a moment and said, “Then Lingling absolutely cannot know that this money is for you, and even more so she cannot know that it’s being used for Lin Yao to have a child.”

Grandma asked softly, “What if she finds out? How heartbroken would she be?”

Jin Wenhui was silent for a long while, then suddenly let out a long sigh, his voice unable to hide its dejection. “Mom, I really have no other way. Lin Yao is making a scene at home every day—one moment saying she regrets being with me, the next saying I ruined her whole life. My household is in constant turmoil. On the other side, external debts have me utterly exhausted—bank interest to repay, friends’ debts to repay, employees who followed me need wages… Do you think that coming here today to ask you for this, I don’t feel terrible? I, Jin Wenhui, was once such a proud person. To fall to this point—it’s like being pierced by ten thousand arrows. I truly have no way out. I’m at the end of my road.”