Chapter 17

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Shen Anwu bent down to pick up a poster and glanced at it; it was an advertisement for an art studio enrollment. The original must have been a hand-drawn draft, now roughly duplicated in monochrome, the clearest detail being a string of pager numbers at the bottom.

The girl handing out flyers was much darker-skinned than when he last saw her in Cuigu. Her hair clung tightly to her forehead, her dark T-shirt soaked repeatedly by sweat, leaving white salt stains in rings, and the hem of her shirt was stained with paint in various colors.

She was clearly a bit excited and somewhat incoherent: "You're not limping! I thought you were limping!"

Shen Anwu was speechless.

Apart from Shen Luan, he hadn’t dealt with children this old. This girl clearly didn’t know the meaning of "politeness."

No need to ask—she was the one who pulled him out of the earth pile that night. Honestly, if he hadn’t experienced it himself, he wouldn’t have believed a teenage girl could have such strength.

He was about to give out when someone cried and yelled in his ear, even tearing his clothes.

That night must have terrified her too.

Shen Anwu forced a faint smile, trying to look a bit kinder: "Why did you look like you’d seen a ghost when you saw me in Cuigu last time? Am I really that scary?"

Xu Qingling smiled awkwardly: "You were in a wheelchair last time. I thought you were limping. Now seeing you standing here perfectly fine, I realize it was my eyes that were bad."

Shen Anwu chuckled and asked, "Why does it have to be about limping?"

Xu Qingling gave an embarrassed, dry laugh. The gloomy image of him in a wheelchair was deeply engraved in her mind.

Shen Anwu glanced down at the poster again, cigarette ash falling onto it. Suddenly he felt a strange guilt, as if he were poisoning the nation’s youth, and quickly stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette.

He cleared his throat and sincerely thanked her: "I recognized you back in Cuigu. That night, thank you for using such strength to save me."

Xu Qingling had calmed down, smiling with composure: "No need to thank me. I just happened to pass by."

Indeed, it was a coincidence. She heard about it and made a special detour. But there was no need to tell him that.

Shen Anwu looked at the pile of flyers in her arms. "You’re still studying, right? Is this an art studio you and your classmates started?"

Xu Qingling nodded. "I’m about to start university soon. We’re trying to earn some money over the summer."

Shen Anwu’s expression darkened slightly, his eyes carrying a hint of scrutiny: "You’re not Zhang Yun. Why did you pretend to be Zhang Heng’s sister in Cuigu?"

Xu Qingling’s ears turned red bit by bit, scratching her head: "Well, I heard employees there get hotel discounts."

Shen Anwu fixed his gaze on her. "You know Zhang Heng?"

Xu Qingling braced herself and lied: "My classmate’s sister works with him."

Shen Anwu pointed at the poster: "Are you Teacher Xu or Teacher Cao?"

Xu Qingling caught on and glared at him: "Why do you sound like you’re checking my identity? I told you, I just happened to be there that night."

Her eyes held a wary glint, like a feline on high alert.

Shen Anwu smiled faintly: "You’re the first woman besides my mother to slap me and give me money."

Xu Qingling felt awkward at his smile and waved her fingers at him: "To save you, my fingers got hurt, and my feet swelled."

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After saying this, she became even more uncomfortable, as if she were asking for some favor. Her face warmed slightly, but luckily her darker skin made it less noticeable.

Her slender fingers fluttered before his eyes. Shen Anwu recalled the shirt stained with her blood and felt a rare pang of remorse despite his usually cold heart.

He pulled out his wallet, took out a bill, and handed it to her: "This is the money you gave me that night. I’m giving it back."

Xu Qingling hadn’t expected him to still carry the money she gave him. Ah, he must have heard what she said that night.

It would take her a whole day standing painting murals to earn a hundred yuan. It was her own money, so she accepted it without hesitation.

"You saved my life. I want to thank you. Is there anything you need help with?"

Distributing flyers in such heat was no easy task. The girl didn’t seem well-off.

Xu Qingling shook her head vigorously: "Nothing I need help with." As long as he wasn’t limping, everything else didn’t matter; she didn’t want to owe anything to the Shen family.

Shen Anwu didn’t expect her to refuse so quickly, which left him a bit embarrassed. He patted his pockets—no business cards.

He snatched a pencil from her hand and scribbled a number on the poster, speaking as he wrote: "The hot spring resort you stayed at last time is mine. Next time you go, you can stay for free. Just give my name. Here’s my phone number; if you ever get into trouble or mess things up, you can call me."

Shen Anwu signed his full name, stuffed the poster into Xu Qingling’s arms, then took a fresh poster from her and folded it a few times before pocketing it: "I’ll keep this one."

Xu Qingling: "..."

In just a short time, this man had wasted two of her posters.

...

At the banquet’s midpoint, guests began to leave. Xu Deyou and Fu Juan led their son out of the hall, walking to a nearby mall to get the car.

At the traffic light, Fu Juan suddenly spotted Shen Anwu standing by the roadside, talking with a flyer girl.

She wanted to greet him but the flyer girl suddenly turned her head. Fu Juan saw her face clearly and widened her eyes: "Qingling, what are you doing here?"

Xu Nan also saw his cousin and rushed over, grabbing her hand: "Sis! It’s summer vacation. Why don’t you come to my house to play?"

Xu Deyou glanced at the flyers held tightly by his niece. "Qingling, what’s this?"

Xu Qingling was surprised by her luck—distributing flyers near Shen Luan’s graduation banquet hotel.

She had no choice but to tell her uncle and aunt about her summer job with classmates, leaving out the part about her parents.

"You’re such a sensible child!" The couple nodded with pride. Fu Juan poked their son’s forehead, scolding, "Look at your cousin—she’s always been considerate of her parents!"

Their daughter was considerate; their son often gave her headaches.

Xu Deyou saw Shen Anwu standing nearby and thought his niece had forced flyers on him. He hurriedly said, "Mr. Shen, this is my eldest brother’s daughter. She’s in the same class as Luan’er."

Then he introduced his niece to Shen Anwu: "Qingling, this is Uncle Shen. He’s Shen Luan’s younger uncle."

Xu Qingling avoided Shen Anwu’s gaze but nodded toward him: "Hello, Uncle Shen."

Shen Anwu responded lightly.

Xu Deyou and his wife then engaged Xu Qingling about her older sister’s wedding. She answered stiffly and quickly excused herself, saying she needed to distribute flyers elsewhere.

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Fu Juan felt something was off with her niece today but couldn’t pinpoint what. Seeing Shen Anwu still standing nearby, she chatted with him about the latest progress on a previous case and asked about his injury recovery.

Fu Juan had always thought that her sister’s younger uncle, who ran such a large conglomerate at a young age, would be difficult to deal with. But he was patient and polite, even asking about Xu Nan’s school and the family’s situation.

On the way home, Fu Juan praised him all the way, saying managing a company as big as Far Star was no small feat. After praising Shen Anwu, she began to praise her niece and nephew.

Xu Nan sat in the back, pouting. His mother seemed to like everyone except him.

* * *

So her name was Xu Qingling.

Shen Anwu hadn’t expected the girl to be connected to him in such a roundabout way. Not only was she Shen Luan’s classmate, but also Fu Juan’s niece.

He looked at the poster again; the address was that of a kindergarten. It seemed she was using the idle kindergarten over the summer to run the art studio.

The girl was smart and straightforward, but a bit lacking in subtlety.

...

At the Yue Pavilion banquet hall, Shen Shaozhou and Fu Qin paced anxiously outside the private room. When they saw Shen Anwu return, it was like seeing a savior.

"Anwu, you’re finally back. The old man just kicked us out. He said he wanted to talk to your mother alone. They’ve been talking for quite a while. I just heard banging on the table inside—sounds like they’re arguing. I didn’t dare go in. Hurry in and have a look. Tell Dad that it’s late; if there’s anything, it can wait till tomorrow."

Shen Anwu glanced at his watch; it had been over two hours—they must be nearly finished.

He pushed the door open. The atmosphere was tense. His mother sat on the sofa by the window; his father, breathing heavily, sat by the round table. It felt like a thousand mountains and rivers separated them.

He had always known that these two fiery parents were at odds; when they argued, he kept his distance. Divorce was something he couldn’t interfere with.

He pretended not to notice his mother’s reddened eyes or the topic they’d just discussed. "Mom, let me take you back to Cuigu."

If he hadn’t mentioned Cuigu, it would have been fine. But as soon as he spoke, it was like water hitting hot oil. Shen Xingbang’s eyes seemed to shoot daggers, glaring at his son: "I heard you support your mother in divorcing me?"

Shen Anwu’s heart tightened, but he replied calmly, "Dad, when you and Mom talk about divorce, what right do I have to interfere?"

Shang Huilan saw her husband immediately challenging their son and stood up: "I’ve said all I need to say. The rest can be handled between your lawyer and mine."

When they separated years ago, Shang Huilan and Shen Xingbang had a huge fight—one that wounded them deeply. In the end, Shen Xingbang had made concessions and redrawn the shares.

This time, it involved the fixed and other assets acquired during marriage. Once the divorce process started, everything would be divided.

Shen Xingbang looked at his wife’s back, his face darkening: "It’s late; don’t go to Cuigu. The house in Zhangshu has been empty all these years. Mrs. Wu is still living there to look after it. You should stay there."

Shang Huilan stopped in her tracks but didn’t turn around: "I told you, I don’t want any of the houses bought after marriage. Keep them for you and your mistress."

A violent coughing fit came from inside the room. Shen Shaozhou and Fu Qin hurriedly pushed the door open.