Volume 1, Chapter 7: Her Mother Is Alive

The surveillance camera was pointed at a street corner. In the two-minute clip captured by Zhuang Jian, a minor traffic accident was unfolding: an electric scooter had knocked a bicycle to the ground. That was the only reason the footage had been preserved.

Gu Moting’s gaze was instantly drawn to a woman passing by in the upper right corner. While the cyclist was on the ground, clutching his leg and screaming, and everyone else was turning to look in his direction, this woman alone walked on unhurriedly, smoking a cigarette without so much as a glance. She remained entirely indifferent to the commotion. A face mask hung from her right ear; she would likely put it back on once she finished her smoke.

Gu Moting zoomed in on the frozen frame. As the resolution dropped, the face became blurry. Yet, even through the blur, one could discern that this face—no longer young and rather disheveled—retained deep, beautiful, and structured features. Time had not altered her bone structure; her face remained remarkably small.

Gu Moting’s dark eyes tightened. He stared intently at the video, his chest filled with a boiling, turbulent rush of blood, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Zhou Chenbai’s voice held a hint of nervousness: "Boss... who is this woman? Why does she look so familiar?"

Gu Moting didn’t answer. With his long, pale fingers, he rewound the video. He watched the clip repeatedly, and the certainty in his eyes grew deeper. Finally, it was Zhuang Jian who answered: "The lady in the video, she..." Zhuang Jian glanced cautiously at Gu Moting, "...she looks a lot like Miss Su’s mother."

"I knew it!" Zhou Chenbai exclaimed. "No wonder!"

No wonder that even with such a sloppy look, such poor video quality, and such an advanced age, it was still clear she was a great beauty. However, Zhou Chenbai added, "She does look like our sister-in-law, but why does she also look a bit..."

"Foreign?" Zhuang Jian suggested.

"Yes, exactly!"

Zhuang Jian continued, "Miss Su’s mother was of mixed Chinese and British descent."

Zhou Chenbai was surprised. "Is that so? So our sister-in-law is a quarter mixed-race? No wonder she’s so breathtakingly beautiful!"

Zhuang Jian didn't respond, looking instead at Gu Moting. Gu Moting dragged the progress bar back again. His dark eyes were fixed on the screen, clear and bright, and his cold, handsome face finally seemed to show a flicker of life—a vitality he hadn’t possessed in years. Even when little Miss Xiaotao tried to charm him or make him laugh, he had never shown such emotion.

Zhuang Jian felt a mix of relief and worry. He worried that even if Jiang Zifei were alive, it didn't mean Miss Su was still alive. Furthermore, Jiang Zifei had treated her own daughter with the same terrifying hostility one might reserve for an enemy. If Jiang Zifei were alive, she would likely be staying as far away from the Su family as possible.

After watching the clip dozens of times, Gu Moting said in a low voice, "Regardless of whether it is her, use every means possible to find this person. I need to know her name, her address, and her daily routines. Also, find a way to get more photos of Jiang Zifei as soon as possible; I need to take them to the nurse, Chen, for verification."

Photos of Jiang Zifei... Zhuang Jian felt a headache coming on. If they could have been found, they would have been found in the last four years. "Yes, sir," Zhuang Jian replied.

Gu Moting suddenly thought of something. "Try starting with Su Xiaxia’s circle of classmates."

***

The rib fracture from four years ago had left Su Qiuyu with severe intercostal neuralgia. The rainy autumn and winter days in Haicheng were agonizing for her, but she had no choice but to go out. She stuck a heating pad to her chest and walked through the autumn rain to take her scooter to be repaired. She specifically asked the mechanic for an estimate, wondering how much this third-hand vehicle would be worth if fixed. The mechanic gave her a bottom-dollar price, so she decided not to sell it for now and instead have it shipped back to Lingning.

After a crowded bus ride and a ten-minute walk, she finally reached the studio. Her boss, Chen Bojie, happened to be out making tea. When he saw her return, he stopped and leveled a chilly gaze at her shivering figure.

Su Qiuyu walked over apologetically. "Boss..."

Chen Bojie was full of resentment. "My big client is gone just like that! Do you know how incredible the long-term feedback would have been if we’d landed that deal? We might have broken into his circle and been introduced to a steady stream of orders!"

Su Qiuyu lowered her head. "I’m sorry, Boss. I really didn’t mean for it to happen."

Chen Bojie sneered. "Claiming you didn't mean it, yet you’re about to hand me a resignation letter!"

Su Qiuyu was stunned. She looked up, "I haven't..."

"Listen to you!" Chen Bojie immediately interrupted. "That implies you were going to!"

"..."

"Hmph! You cause me trouble, and now you want to run away?!" Chen Bojie tossed his head, stomped off with an arrogant gait, and left in a huff.

Su Qiuyu returned to the workroom. At the door, a neutral-toned female voice said coldly, "Su Xiaowu, you still have the nerve to come back?"

Su Qiuyu stopped. Lin Jingyi stood with her arms crossed, her short hair looking sharp. She wore an apron and sleeve protectors. The protectors were still clean; she hadn't started working yet. Lin Jingyi stared at the mask on Su Qiuyu’s face. "You only have this face to show for yourself, but this is a ceramics studio. You’re a salesperson who can’t even make pottery, yet you caused such a huge mess. The only reason the boss hasn't fired you is because of that face. I think this studio should just close down; it’s going to fail sooner or later."

Su Qiuyu smiled. "If you want to lecture me, do it properly. I made a mistake, and I accept the scolding and the penalty. But there’s no need to keep bringing up my face. It only makes me think you’re insecure about it and are using it as an excuse to lash out."

Lin Jingyi’s eyes narrowed. "What’s there to be insecure about with your ugly face? Do you really think anyone cares?"

"No, I don't care about it myself, but clearly, you do."

With that, Su Qiuyu walked past her and went inside. Lin Jingyi was an intermediate ceramicist at the studio. When Su Qiuyu had first arrived half a month ago, they had gotten along fine. But during a studio team-building event, the boss had left his keys in the office. Su Qiuyu, who hadn't attended the event, had been called to deliver them and was spotted by Lin Jingyi’s new boyfriend outside a nightclub. The creep had been handsy and made inappropriate remarks, so Su Qiuyu had beaten him up. As a result, Lin Jingyi didn't blame her boyfriend; she blamed Su Qiuyu. After being targeted by Lin Jingyi several times, Su Qiuyu had given her a padlock, telling her to lock up her "dog" and stay with him forever.

There was a spare cardboard box under her desk. Su Qiuyu pulled it out and began to pack. She had only been working there for half a month, so she didn't have many belongings. None of the files or documents belonged to her, but she had to make sure the handover records were in order.

Her phone rang. It was the boss. Su Qiuyu paused, thought for a moment, then took the resignation letter from her bag and grabbed her incessantly ringing phone, heading toward the boss’s office.