Chapter Seventeen: Sister Wan Jun Returns

“What kind of person am I?” Su Mian was delighted to see Zhao Ruolan talk more. Usually, she was cold by nature, and Su Mian worried she might still be dwelling on painful memories.

“Righteous, kind, warm-hearted,” Zhao Ruolan answered without hesitation.

Su Mian opened her mouth and waved her hand like a tiger, letting out a playful roar: “Just someone who borrows the tiger’s might.”

“You kept staring at my wound just now; it really reminded me of four years ago,” Zhao Ruolan said with a joyful smile.

“Huh?” Su Mian was puzzled.

“At that time, I was unstable during pregnancy and needed injections and IV drips. You insisted on watching the needle go in,” Zhao Ruolan recalled, and the familiar sting resurfaced in Su Mian’s mind. “Yes, if I didn’t watch, my imagination would make the pain worse, and it was harder to bear.”

“I remember you said this method was taught to you by Ahan’s elder brother?”

Su Mian nodded. “I was a frail child, sick all year round, constantly getting injections or taking medicine. At first, I was afraid of needles and cried, which upset the shopkeepers. Although it might have been overthinking, children naturally lack a sense of security. Shang Jiuxu came up with this method. After facing the fear head-on, I gradually stopped being scared of injections.”

Whether you watch or not, the injection is inevitable. But visually watching restricts the bottomless imagination of the unknown fear.

The needle that could fall at any moment, the sterilization, the long wait, and the sudden sting—all became concrete under observation.

Compared to Shang Jiuxu, Su Mian was more concerned that Zhao Ruolan seemed desensitized to the memories from four years ago. The child who never came to be no longer seemed to hurt her.

That was good. People must move forward, look ahead.

They soon arrived at a tea restaurant. Su Mian ordered a bowl of wonton noodles, keeping her northern taste, while Zhao Ruolan chose a Western-style toast.

Neither had a large appetite. When they left, Zhao Ruolan ordered an extra Western toast and a pineapple bun. Su Mian was curious, “Are these for your family?”

Zhao Ruolan nodded.

A new boyfriend?

Su Mian knew Zhao Ruolan’s original family situation wasn’t good. She had lived alone for many years. Since these two snacks weren’t enough for her parents, it was likely they were for her new boyfriend.

It made sense. Four years had passed. Shang Biehan probably had countless girlfriends by now. How could anyone expect Ruolan to stay in the same place?

Su Mian felt a twinge of melancholy but sincerely wished her well.

They said goodbye at the tea restaurant’s entrance.

Back at Shoushen Hill.

Qin Lingling seemed to have been waiting for some time. She dashed over from the sofa, handed Su Mian her slippers, and closed the shoe cabinet.

“Boss Shang flew to Hu City. His assistant asked me to tell you.

He also sent you a huge pile of clothes. Damn, they’re so complete and beautiful—each piece outrageously expensive enough to make your family jealous.

I wanted to help you organize them but was afraid of damaging anything. Shang’s people have already sorted them and put them in the wardrobe.”

She held up a small UFO-shaped key. “They even sent this.”

The clothes were probably the ones from downstairs that Su Mian had seen before.

Leaning against the wall, Su Mian changed her shoes while glancing at the car keys but didn’t respond.

Shang Jiuxu had been with her in Port City these past few days, almost giving her the illusion he’d stay here indefinitely.

But the head of the Shang family was never so idle. How much money could he earn in the half hour he spent cooking for her?

With that money, he could hire the world’s top chefs to fill the kitchen.

His constant world travels reminded Su Mian of her high school impression of him—like a mythical dragon, glimpsed only fleetingly.

Like the First Emperor of Qin, elusive and unpredictable, coming and going like the wind.

Often, she’d wake up to find he’d arrived, then go out for a bit, only to discover he had flown thousands of kilometers away.

Winds must obey geography, but Shang Jiuxu was even more unfathomable.

He decided when they met and parted. Su Mian had long grown accustomed to this.

Qin Lingling didn’t lose heart, her voice booming: “A Speedtail car key! Oh my god, I never thought I’d touch such an expensive car key in this life. Our Qin family’s ancestors have worked since 3000 years ago, and all their earnings combined might not buy this car.”

The internet said some things you’re born with, you have; if not, you don’t. This car belonged to that category.

“Too flashy, just leave it,” Su Mian said. Having been a supporting actress in dramas for two years, she was more used to business cars. She stretched and walked into the bedroom. “It’s been a busy day; you must be tired too. Get some rest early.”

On the last day of October, Xu Wanjun arrived as promised.

The impression of the older neighbor girl from childhood was vivid. Su Mian had watched Xu Wanjun grow more and more beautiful year after year until she flew to the dazzling lights of Hollywood and hadn’t seen her for over two years.

An Aries who loved competition, Su Mian felt both nervous and excited about this meeting.

Her biological clock from the previous drama hadn’t reset yet, so she woke early.

Once her body tasted the sweetness of a full night’s sleep, it became delicate. She yawned twice, eyes watering.

After washing up to clear her mind, Su Mian began choosing her clothes.

Although Xu Wanjun’s flight landed at 7 PM, she liked to prepare early.

At 8 PM, at the Aqua restaurant.

Su Mian had chosen the restaurant, which had been named “Global Night Banquet View” by Asia Times.

Considering their sensitive professions, she reserved a private room with a 270-degree panoramic view of Victoria Harbour at night.

Under the night sky, the water was like a mirror, surrounded by mountains embracing various skyscrapers. A cruise boat slowly passed by. In the flow of breaths, time seemed to stand still.

Su Mian wore a simple bun hairstyle today, with wisps of hair naturally framing her ears, forming a graceful curve.

She wore a brown vest paired with wide-leg jeans, a brown scarf with white dots tied around her right leg, and low-heeled white pumps.

She was looking down at the menu when a stunning figure was led in by a waiter. Upon seeing Su Mian, her eyes curved warmly as she reached to remove her mask.

Su Mian smiled and took off her vest, draping it over the coat rack to reveal a white, embroidered begonia blouse underneath.

“Wanjun Jie,” she greeted sweetly.

Xu Wanjun was striking and elegant, completely different from her reserved and introverted personality.

Seeing her in person made Su Mian feel a bit shy.

In height, looks, and figure, Su Mian was no less than Xu Wanjun.

Perhaps their four-year age gap gave her a sense of awe and pressure similar to how she felt toward Shang Jiuxu, but much gentler.

Xu Wanjun was still so gentle and generous, reaching a new level of beauty.

Wearing a vintage Hong Kong-style burgundy jacket over a fitted U-neck black dress, she smiled and handed a pure black lambskin Cambridge bag to the waiter.

“Qingqing has grown into a young lady,” Xu Wanjun said sincerely as she sat across from Su Mian. “I looked up your film clips in New York City. Best Actress at the Golden Moon Awards—truly well deserved.”

“I’m learning from you, Wanjun Jie,” Su Mian said sweetly, making it clear she wasn’t speaking out of mere politeness.

Xu Wanjun was a three-time Golden Award Best Actress and a Hollywood regular—truly a role model.

Obediently, Su Mian handed her the menu. “I don’t know if you still prefer the same tastes from America. I ordered some dishes based on your favorites. Let me know if you want to add anything.”

“I’m old-fashioned; I only like what I love,” Xu Wanjun said.

She leaned over to look, nodded, and the waiter took the menu and left.

“When I debuted, I never distanced myself from family. Even getting into Hollywood, I relied on my family a lot. Why make things hard for yourself?”

Su Mian smiled lightly. Xu Wanjun was the biological granddaughter of the Xu family. Su Mian had no blood relation to the Shang family. Over the years, what she had received far exceeded what she should have.

She didn’t want to depend entirely on the Shang family, achieving nothing on her own, like a mayfly buried beneath a towering tree.

“Maybe I just want to prove my own ability. I can’t rely on my family all my life, especially without blood ties.”

Xu Wanjun disagreed. “Your biological father sacrificed himself on the battlefield to save Grandpa Shang. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been a posthumous child. The descendants of martyrs are no less than the Shang family.”

She hesitated. If not for Su Mian’s father’s sacrifice, Su Mian’s mother wouldn’t have been so despondent. When Su Mian was two, her mother took her in her arms and committed suicide on that cold, rainy night.