Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
At the thought of that person, Song Qingcheng tightened her grip on her phone.
“What’s up?” Her tone was polite but distant.
“Qingcheng, it’s really you?” Xue Min was very happy. There was joy in her voice as though they had reunited after a long time. “It seems like Ah Lai wasn’t lying to me. To get your phone number, I’ve asked almost all my old classmates in junior high.”
Song Qingcheng did not pay heed to her enthusiasm. She only repeated, “Why are you looking for me?”
“It’s nothing much. I just graduated from France and came back. I wanted to have a gathering with you old schoolmates. Have you been in South City for the past few years? I went to Tongzi Lane. Your neighbor said that you and your grandmother haven’t been back after your uncle took you away. I’m going to South City next week. I’ll treat you to a meal then.”
“I’ve been quite busy recently. I don’t think I have time,” Song Qingcheng rejected politely.
Xue Min was silent. After a while, she sighed helplessly. “That’s true. I’m quite busy now, too. My dad urged me to take over his career. When he heard that I wanted to find a job on my own, he was so angry that he almost went to the hospital. Oh, right, Qingcheng, I went to Switzerland last month and saw Shen Zhi. His term at the embassy should be coming up soon. I also saw your uncle’s daughter.”
As she spoke, Xue Min started to sound indignant. “Clearly, you and Shen Zhi are considered childhood sweethearts. The two of you lived together in the courtyard house. At that time, whenever Shen Zhi was back in Yu Rao during his university holidays, he’d always pick you up at the school gate. We all thought that the two of you were the perfect match. Some women are really despicable, taking advantage of the fact that their families could snatch other people’s boyfriends. We all know that, if you hadn’t helped Shen Zhi by being the scapegoat at that time, eventually entering…”
Song Qingcheng suddenly asked, “When are you planning to be in South City?”
Her words were interrupted. Noticing that Song Qingcheng did not share a common enemy with her—neither did the girl bear a grudge against the people as she expected, Xue Min felt somewhat uncomfortable. She mumbled, “It’s not decided yet. I’ll go when I have time.”
“I’m a little busy here. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up.”
Xue Min could not find good reasons to continue the conversation and said tactfully, “Oh, please go ahead.”
After hanging up the phone, Song Qingcheng leaned against the curtain and stared blankly past the window, at the French Parasol tree in front of the villa.
There were also similar trees in the courtyard house at Tongzi Lane. However, due to the excessive number of fallen leaves, the main branches had been cut off, leaving behind a tree stump with the size of a bowl.
…
In the afternoon, Song Qingcheng was woken up by a phone call.
She looked at the time—it was 4:16 PM.
She scratched at her messy hair and sat up, picking up the phone at the same time. Yu Jing’s loud voice came from the other end: “Did you go to school?”
Song Qingcheng threw the blanket off to the side and got out of bed. “Still at home. Are you in the dormitory already?”
Yuan Wei was a private school in South City and comprised a primary school, junior high school, and senior high school. An accommodation system was implemented, and being touted as a school for the wealthy, the fees were not cheap. Many rich people in South City would send their children to study here, particularly those who were not academic highflyers. After all, Yuan Wei had strong teachers. Every year, they would poach many outstanding teachers externally, offering them a high salary.
“I’m at home, too. Auntie is helping me pack. Have you finished your homework?”
“Uh, huh.” Song Qingcheng started brushing her teeth.
Yu Jing chuckled. “Well, lend me your answers as a reference then.”
Song Qingcheng spat out the foam in her mouth and took a towel to wipe her mouth as she said, “How are you going to handle the end-of-semester exam if you keep doing this?”
“There’s still half a month left. Besides, I’ve got you. I’ve already thought about it. From tomorrow onwards, I’ll look for you after dinner. We’ll go to the library together to review. If there’s anything I don’t understand, you can teach me.” The more Yu Jing spoke, the more satisfied she seemed to be with her plan. She then changed the topic. “How are you going to school later? Someone at home sending you?”
Song Qingcheng didn’t hide anything. “I’ll take the bus there myself.”
“Then, I’ll go over and pick you up. We have a car at home.” Since Yu Jing had something to ask of her friend, she took the chance to return a favor. “It’s still raining outside. It’s definitely not convenient for you to take the bus.”
“…” Song Qingcheng wanted to refuse.
“My grandfather is calling for me. I’ll hang up first. You live in Chanson Garden, right? I’ll call you when I get there.”
As soon as that was said, an engaged tone was heard coming from the receiver.
…
About half an hour later…
Song Qingcheng received Yu Jing’s anxious call and went downstairs with her suitcase. Lu Xishan had gone out for the afternoon, attending to some matters. The Lu family’s chauffeur had sent Ge Wenjuan to play mahjong and wasn’t back yet. Only the nanny was at home. She took an umbrella from the cabinet at the house entrance, changed into her own shoes, and went out in the rain.
Over the phone, Song Qingcheng had told Yu Jing the location of the Lu family’s villa.
As soon as she came down the stairs, she noticed a Jaguar XKR parked in front of the fence.
Yu Jing saw Song Qingcheng from inside the car. She lowered the window and waved. “Here, here!”
The rain was pouring. It was only about a hundred meters away, and Song Qingcheng’s shoulders were a little wet. When she got close to the car, the trunk opened automatically. She put her trolley case in and shut the trunk when Yu Jing opened the back door and urged her to get in.
After closing the car door, Song Qingcheng noticed that the man in the driver’s seat was not a chauffeur, but Yu Tingchuan.