Chapter 30: The Mistress Thrown Out onto the Street

At most, he was just a young man who had barely graduated, needing others to worry about even finding a job. His future was utterly uncertain; aside from helplessness, what else could he do?

Faced with this retort, Wen Lechuan clenched his hand by his side, feeling awkward—indeed, he could do nothing.

Gu Pingsheng pressed on, “Wen Lechuan, twenty-two years old, an ordinary graduate from a second-tier university. Spoiled since childhood by your parents—those two could be ruthless to your sister, but always doted on you. No special skills, no remarkable talents, even your barely earned degree was thanks to your sister tutoring you through the exams. You graduated this year, yet neither high nor low positions suit you, and there are two burdens at home. If not for your sister, you wouldn't even qualify to stand here and speak with me today. Tell me, am I wrong?”

Wen Lechuan stared at him, his expression taut and angry.

Gu Pingsheng gave a cold laugh, “So your abilities amount to this. You can't even accept the truth, so what else can you do?”

Wen Lechuan replied, “One day, I’ll stand at the same height as you!”

“Then I’ll wait and see.” He raised his hand, and someone handed over another file. “I’m giving you a chance to challenge me. Miss Chu of Liangcheng needs a companion for her studies. If you can win Chairman Chu’s favor, it will be your starting point for advancement... How far you go depends on your own skill.”

Gu Pingsheng slapped the file onto Wen Lechuan’s shoulder and looked up, “Having spent a lifetime sheltered as a cub, can you really soar?”

Wen Lechuan took it, gripping the folder tightly, gazing at him in indignation.

Gu Pingsheng sneered and turned away.

Five years apart, he was the handsome and aloof President Gu, while Wen Lechuan was nothing but an ant with nothing to his name.

Wen Lechuan watched his departing figure, clenching his teeth.

Whether for use or anything else, this path—he was determined to walk it.

In the car, Gu Pingsheng glanced at Wen Lechuan’s angry expression in the rearview mirror, his eyes deep and distant.

“President Gu, are we returning to the company?” the driver asked tentatively.

Gu Pingsheng twisted the ring on his finger, his fingertip slowly tracing over the severance document. “Go to the hos... return to the company.”

The word “hospital” was almost out, but recalling Wen Zhixia’s look when she chased him away, he changed his mind.

At that moment, in the hospital.

Hua Qianjiao arrived at the ward with bags piled high; those who knew understood she was visiting the sick, those who did not might think she was headed for a picnic.

“Zhixia, try this—it’s especially delicious.”

“And this, I just discovered it a couple of days ago.”

“This one, I’ve always loved it. All these are for you, so you’ll get better quickly...”

Wen Zhixia’s gloomy mood turned mixed with amusement when Hua Qianjiao, heroic as if cutting her own wrist, shoved all her favorite snacks in a heap before her.

“Why did you bring so many things?”

Hua Qianjiao sat down. “When I’m sick or unhappy, I love to eat. Good food lifts your spirits. Try some.”

Wen Zhixia took a bite; its sweet, rich flavor carried the scent of summer jasmine, reminiscent of Hua Qianjiao herself.

“Is it good?” Her eyes were classic almond-shaped, gazing eagerly—round, innocent, with the delicate ignorance of someone untouched by life’s worries.

Wen Zhixia nodded.

Seeing her approval, Hua Qianjiao smiled brightly. “This pastry is made with fresh jasmine flowers—the water for the dough is freshly pressed jasmine juice. The floral scent lingers long after you eat it. Qingqi used to love this, though he never said so, but I could tell. So every time he visited, I’d prepare this...”

As she spoke, her voice grew softer, until it faded altogether.

“Lin Huixi called me a week ago, telling me how Qingqi confessed to her,” she said. “Zhixia, it was him who wanted to get engaged to me, him who promised to look after me—so why does he keep making me so sad?”

Wen Zhixia paused mid-bite, then spoke after a moment, “Perhaps vows and promises are always too easily spoken.”

Hua Qianjiao’s mind, childlike and simple, seemed to understand and not understand.

“How did your husband confess to you?” In her naive logic, since Lin Huixi boasted about Qingqi’s declaration, she wanted to find solace in Wen Zhixia’s own love story.

She saw Wen Zhixia as her sister, so her sister’s happiness felt like her own.

“He...” Wen Zhixia’s eyes grew wistful.

That summer evening, Seventh Street glowed under amber lights.

A young man stood at the end of the long street, the breeze lifting his unruly brows. He waved his phone, motioning her to answer.

His voice, smiling, came through the line as he began to count down: “Three, two, one... Bookworm, I like you.”

With that “I like you,” myriad lanterns suddenly rose behind him, lighting up the sky.

Lanterns for you, to make you smile.

Each floating lantern formed a river of stars across the night.

Yet, no matter how dazzling the stars, they paled before the radiant youth before her, his lively eyes shining brighter than them all.

Though he was asking her to date him, he knelt on one knee as if proposing, his eyes deep as night, his brows soft and tender, “Say yes, I’ve chased you for years now.”

From sophomore year in high school to sophomore year in college—four years, all told.

“I’ll treat you well, love only you.” He reached for her hand. “Except for death, I’ll never let go.”

Behind him were his buddies, having finished releasing the lanterns, each with arms slung over shoulders—who had ever seen the unapproachable Gu act so cautiously?

To be honest, for Gu’s sake they’d all turned into love experts; those who learned the lessons found their own partners—except the one who least deserved to be left single.

Wen Zhixia gazed at him for a long, long time, her expression tranquil.

Gu Pingsheng’s smile slowly faded into disappointment. “Still no? That’s all right, next time...”

“Gu Pingsheng, I’ve never believed in promises,” she suddenly said.

Gu Pingsheng replied, “I always...”

Wen Zhixia reached for his hand. “But I’m willing to believe you. Don’t let me down.”

That day, the spirited youth finally coaxed the girl into agreeing.

He swept her up in his arms, laughing loudly as he spun her around on Seventh Street.

The memory ended; Hua Qianjiao was still listening, chin propped in earnest.

Wen Zhixia lowered her gaze.

“Zhixia, Gu Pingsheng loves you so much. Will he ever be like Qingqi, defending another woman?” Hua Qianjiao suddenly asked.

Wen Zhixia paused with her cup, then said after several seconds, “Jiaojiao, the human heart is the hardest thing to fathom. Even deep love in youth may someday turn into mutual dislike.”

She seemed to half-understand. “So what would you do, sister?”

Wen Zhixia’s lips curved, three parts mocking, seven parts serious, “I’d strip the mistress naked and toss her into the street.”

Hua Qianjiao blinked, looked at her own clothes, and swallowed: Strip... strip naked?

“And your husband?”

Wen Zhixia: “...I’d be done with him.”

Hua Qianjiao tilted her head. “Why not throw him out with the woman? Are you too soft-hearted?”

“...To destroy someone’s heart, you don’t need to treat them the same. He’s not suited to equal punishment.”

Hua Qianjiao studied her, feeling Wen Zhixia was unusually serious.

Wen Zhixia turned to her. “Jiaojiao, I’m telling you this so you’ll understand—there are some things in love that can never be forgiven. Like... betrayal.”

Hua Qianjiao half-comprehended, yet felt unable to let go of Qingqi.

She had once shielded him from danger without hesitation; after a head injury, whether before fainting or upon first waking in the ER, he was the one she saw—she couldn’t let go.

Like a fledgling’s stubborn attachment.

“You think I should break off the engagement?” Hua Qianjiao asked.

Wen Zhixia didn’t hesitate or equivocate. “Yes.”

She offered a clear answer, not a cautious analysis with disclaimers about making one’s own decisions.

Hua Qianjiao tugged at her clothes, head lowered, like a child admitting a mistake. “I... I’ll think about it.”

She would think about it.

Love can’t be rushed, so Wen Zhixia said nothing more.

With the Hua family behind her, their only daughter would not be wronged; when Hua Qianjiao thought it through, Wen Zhixia believed they would break off the engagement without hesitation.

She didn’t want to linger in the hospital and arranged her discharge that afternoon.

Hua Qianjiao wanted to take her for a nourishing meal. “Zhixia, you’ve gotten thinner lately. I know a new restaurant that’s really good, perfect for restoring your health.”

Wen Zhixia had little appetite, but couldn’t resist her persistence. She was not someone who easily refused kindness, so she went along.

Hua Qianjiao was a foodie, eloquent when it came to gourmet dishes—“soft and chewy,” “fragrant and aromatic,” “juicy and tender,” “lingering flavor”—her descriptions flowed endlessly.

Wen Zhixia found herself looking forward to the meal.

Sifang City was large; many people might never cross paths again in their lifetime.

But by chance, as Hua Qianjiao turned around, she spotted a familiar figure, glanced at Wen Zhixia, then at the woman not far away, tugged Wen Zhixia’s arm. “Zhixia, there’s someone over there who looks like you.”

She really did look similar—the style, the manner, even her brows when she turned. “But you’re prettier.”

Though alike, something seemed missing.

Wen Zhixia followed her gaze and met Zhao Fuhe’s eyes. Her long hair hung loosely, exposing a pale ear and delicate earring; the breeze lifted it, making her striking.

Seeing her, Zhao Fuhe seemed surprised, walking over. “Zhixia, you’re here too—what a coincidence.”

Wen Zhixia nodded. Not particularly acquainted, she nodded slightly and prepared to leave, but inexplicably, she asked, “Shopping alone?”

Zhao Fuhe smiled faintly, but didn’t answer.

For no reason, Wen Zhixia read something else in her smile.

“Why do you never call me Mrs. Gu?” she asked.

Zhao Fuhe’s eyes flickered, “I suppose calling you Zhixia feels more intimate. Do you dislike it?”

Wen Zhixia replied, “It’s just a title. Spoken aloud, it’s meant to dispel thoughts some people shouldn’t have.”

Zhao Fuhe’s smile stiffened, then she replied with a hidden meaning, “Do you really believe a title can change anything? If a man’s heart doesn’t stray, no matter what another woman wants, she’s powerless—right? After all, no matter how beautiful a flower, once it’s picked and kept at home, sooner or later one tires of it. At that point, stopping for the flowers outside is only natural.”

Wen Zhixia laughed softly, her expression tinged with coolness. “How can you be sure how many times he’ll pause for outside flowers? The difference between humans and beasts is that we restrain desires we shouldn’t indulge. If you mate indiscriminately, what’s the difference from an animal?”

Her voice was gentle, even with a hint of laughter, yet every word rang clear as a bell.

Zhao Fuhe, who thought herself superior in conversation, found herself silenced in just a few sentences.

Then, Hua Qianjiao, who had been quietly pondering, spoke up, “I remember now, Zhixia. Her clothes, hairstyle, and earrings are just like yours in college.”

She’d found the woman’s look familiar, and now realized why.

Her words made Zhao Fuhe’s face suddenly rigid.

Wen Zhixia showed little reaction; even Hua Qianjiao could see it, so how could she, the one being imitated, not notice?

She kept silent, feeling it unnecessary to comment.

Zhao Fuhe bit her lip, looking delicate as if bullied. “Senior, you’re here.”

Footsteps sounded behind them. Wen Zhixia did not intend to look back; she glanced at Hua Qianjiao, her expression unruffled. “Let’s go.”

Hua Qianjiao looked at Gu Pingsheng, then at Wen Zhixia. “Go? But... oh, all right.”

Yet before she could take a step, Gu Pingsheng strode over and grabbed Wen Zhixia’s arm. “You’ve been discharged—how are you feeling?”

Wen Zhixia tried to pull her hand away, but he was too strong, gripping tightly; her temper rose. “Let go.”

“Senior... please don’t be angry with Zhixia. She didn’t do anything to me.” Zhao Fuhe stepped forward, gentle as ever, watching Gu Pingsheng’s actions.

Wen Zhixia laughed, her gaze cool as she looked at Gu Pingsheng. “What, you think I’d bully her?”

Gu Pingsheng frowned, glancing at Zhao Fuhe. “You go ahead.”

Zhao Fuhe bit her lip, but before leaving, added softly, “Senior, Zhixia really didn’t say anything against me. Don’t argue because of me.”

Gu Pingsheng said nothing.

Zhao Fuhe smiled at Wen Zhixia and left.

Wen Zhixia pried Gu Pingsheng’s fingers off her hand one by one, her voice clear and tinged with coldness. “Is Senior Gu here to accompany the junior on a shopping trip? Or to tell me this is all coincidence?”

If she’d shown anger, it would have been easier; but her indifferent attitude made Gu Pingsheng inexplicably furious. “Whichever you want—it’s yours.”

Wen Zhixia followed his lead, “In that case, perhaps I should just step aside and let you two have your moment. Wouldn’t that be doing you a favor?”

Her casual, understated words made Gu Pingsheng’s lips tighten.

Wen Zhixia turned to leave, brushing past him; just as they were about to pass each other, Gu Pingsheng suddenly pinned her against a nearby pillar. “Wen. Zhi. Xia.”

He still had some restraint—after pressing her to the pillar, he made no further move, but his words and expression showed impatience. “Why are you giving me the cold shoulder? Yesterday—I let you do the same to me.”

Under Hua Qianjiao’s curious gaze, he brought up their private matters from the bedroom, making Wen Zhixia embarrassed, especially as he seemed unsure what he was angry about.

“Let go.”

Gu Pingsheng’s dark brows stared deeply at her, his fingers pinching her jaw. “Why don’t you tell me—are you angry that I forced you yesterday, or angry that I arrived too early and interrupted your tryst with Zhang Zhiyan?”

Wen Zhixia’s pupils widened in shock, staring at him, unable to find her voice.

Was he insulting her, or himself?

“Gu Pingsheng, do you realize what you’re saying?”

Seeing her furious expression, Gu Pingsheng’s finger stroked her cheek. “Xiaxia, the way you’re acting makes me almost believe what I saw when I arrived was just a hallucination.”

Seeing her so attached and entangled with another man, watching her disheveled clothes as he pressed her in the car.

Especially since that man was Zhang Zhiyan.

A man she’d once said she “loved”!

Wen Zhixia, enraged, laughed coldly, her words crisp and clear. “If the busy President Gu had not chosen to hang up when I called for help, I believe none of what followed would have happened.”

Gu Pingsheng looked deeply at her. “I never hung up on your call.”

“Did you?” She clearly didn’t believe him—it was easy enough to check the phone records; it wasn’t a matter of his word.

“If President Gu isn’t here to seek justice for your little junior, I have things to attend to and won’t keep you.”

She avoided his hand and spoke.

Gu Pingsheng watched her and Hua Qianjiao enter a restaurant, then left by car.

In the car, Gu Pingsheng stared at the call log on his phone, his gaze sharp and cold. “Back to the company!”