Chapter 8: Want the Heirloom? Then Publicly Apologize to Se Se  

It was Lu Zhenzhu who answered the phone.  

Jiang Sesè was furious, but her tone was pitiful.  

“Sister, don’t misunderstand. I just wanted Ah Huai to stay with me. I’m so scared. You wouldn’t be angry, would you?”  

She played the victim.  

“I didn’t want to disturb Ah Huai so late either, but when I scrolled through my contacts, he was the only one I could rely on. He’s like an older brother to me.”  

Lu Zhenzhu pressed her legs against the quilt, tucking the silk covers tightly around her, her tone indifferent.  

“I’m not angry.”  

What was the point of anger?  

In matters like this, it all depended on the man.  

If Gu Huai wanted to go, there was nothing she could do to stop him.  

Lu Zhenzhu was being this magnanimous?  

Jiang Sesè frowned, suspicious that she might be playing some trick, and cautiously said, “I’ll tough it out. I won’t bother Ah Huai anymore.”  

As soon as she finished speaking, a loud rumble of thunder echoed. Jiang Sesè screamed in terror, bursting into tears. Remembering she was on the phone, she covered her mouth with her hand, but fragmented sobs still escaped her lips.  

This kind of crying was even more heartbreaking than outright wailing.  

Seeing the distress on Gu Huai’s face, Lu Zhenzhu felt a surge of irritation. “Don’t be afraid, little sister. Your Ah Huai gege will come to you right now.”  

Jiang Sesè remained silent, only letting out soft, intermittent sobs.  

“You want me to go comfort her?” Gu Huai ended the call, his narrow eyes half-lidded with displeasure. He tugged at the quilt forcefully, pulling the woman wrapped like a silkworm cocoon back toward him.  

Listening to the pattering rain outside, Lu Zhenzhu suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck. “If I said I was also afraid of thunder and lightning and wanted you to stay with me, would you really not go to her?”  

She leaned in closer, her cheek pressing against his, her breath warm but her expression devoid of tenderness.  

“Ah Huai, I’m scared too.”  

Gu Huai’s heart inexplicably trembled. But thinking of Jiang Sesè’s cries, he pulled away. “A Zhu, I know you’re not afraid of thunder. I’ll go check on Se Se.”  

He picked up his shirt from the floor, buttoning it methodically before fastening his belt.  

Watching this scene unfold exactly as she had anticipated, Lu Zhenzhu felt her heart tear open, the pain slowly consuming her.  

See? His heart only had room for Jiang Sesè.  

Jiang Sesè had always been his exception.  

She said nothing, simply watching him quietly.  

Once dressed, Gu Huai leaned down and kissed her red lips. “Don’t overthink it. You heard her—Se Se sees me as an older brother, and I see her as a younger sister.”  

“Okay.” Lu Zhenzhu nodded, watching as the man strode away. Her smile faded as she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, wetting a towel to wipe her lips.  

She stepped to the window, where the cold wind whipped against her face, carrying droplets of rain that made her shiver.  

Looking down at the tall, upright figure below, she curled her lips into a mocking smile.  

Older brother and younger sister?  

More like lovers.  

The next morning, Aunt Zhang came to call her for breakfast.  

Lu Zhenzhu didn’t see Gu Huai return. Halfway through her meal, her phone lit up.  

She picked it up and opened the MMS from Jiang Sesè.  

On the screen, the man lay shirtless in bed, eyes closed in peaceful slumber, his arm wrapped around a woman in a seductive nightgown. The woman’s face was flushed, and faint kiss marks were visible on her neck.  

Lu Zhenzhu stared at the intimate photo, her hands trembling as she gripped the phone. Her teeth clenched, fingers tightening until the veins on the back of her hands stood out.  

“Madam, what’s wrong?”

Aunt Zhang came over with the sliced pickles and, noticing her pale complexion, showed concern.  

Even though Aunt Zhang knew about the situation between Gu Huai and Jiang Sesè, Lu Zhenzhu didn’t want to lose face in front of her.  

Suppressing her fury with all her might, the violent rise and fall of her chest betrayed her inner turmoil. She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”  

Aunt Zhang hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but ultimately didn’t press further. She turned and left, giving Lu Zhenzhu space.  

The moment she was gone, Lu Zhenzhu released her grip on her phone. It clattered onto the small plate, cracking it down the middle without shattering it completely—only leaving two fissures behind.  

Lu Zhenzhu slumped against the back of the chair as if all her strength had been drained, her heart aching unbearably.  

So eager to rush off and see Jiang Sesè—couldn’t wait to roll into bed with her, could he?  

A wave of nausea hit her, whether from anger or something else, her stomach twisting painfully.  

Staring at the unlit screen and the cracks in the plate, Lu Zhenzhu suddenly laughed—a bitter, pitiful sound.  

She and Gu Huai were just like this plate. On the surface, there seemed to be no major issues. It could still be used. But the cracks inside would never disappear, grating on her nerves every time she saw them.  

She needed to let go of Gu Huai.  

Lu Zhenzhu finished her meal and got ready to leave, only to run into Gu Huai as he returned.  

The man was on the phone with one hand while grabbing her arm with the other, pulling her back onto the sofa.  

“I’ll bring her to the press conference at ten.”  

Hanging up, he massaged his temples. “You’re coming with me to the press conference later. You’ll publicly admit to plagiarizing Sesè and apologize to her.”  

Lu Zhenzhu’s heart turned to ice. She yanked her arm free. “You’re holding a press conference just to clear her name? I didn’t plagiarize her. A Weibo apology was the furthest I was willing to go. Gu Huai, don’t push me too far.”  

The man pulled her back again, frowning. “What’s the difference? An apology is an apology.”  

“A Zhu, the press conference is already prepared. Whether you’re willing or not, you’re attending.”  

Lu Zhenzhu was livid, her heart cold as ice. “I won’t go. If you force me, even the apology is off the table. Let the netizens speculate all they want.”  

Gu Huai gripped her hand. “Don’t you want your mother’s painting, *Bluebird*?”  

“The painting has been restored as much as possible. Sesè was the one who bought it. If you attend, she’ll give it to you for free.”  

It was her mother’s keepsake.  

The comb had already been destroyed. *Bluebird* was the last memento left.  

Her mother had wanted that painting to stay with her forever.  

Seeing the certainty in the man’s eyes, Lu Zhenzhu felt as if she’d been struck over the head.  

The two of them had teamed up to corner her.  

“Fine. I want the painting first.”  

Gu Huai frowned. “A Zhu, you don’t even trust me? I wouldn’t lie to you.”  

Lu Zhenzhu said nothing, only staring coldly at him.  

**Press Conference.**  

Countless cameras focused on Lu Zhenzhu as she woodenly bowed to Jiang Sesè and apologized.  

“Miss Jiang, my *Metamorphosis* plagiarized your *Rebirth*. Here, I sincerely apologize to you and hope you can forgive me.”  

Jiang Sesè helped her up, linking arms with her like a devoted sister.  

“Sister, since you’ve apologized so sincerely, I won’t hold it against you or pursue the matter further. But as fellow artists, there’s something I must remind you—our profession despises plagiarism. I hope you’ve learned your lesson and won’t repeat such actions in the future.”  

Lu Zhenzhu pulled her arm back without a word and turned to leave.  

A glint of triumph flashed in Jiang Sesè’s eyes.  

Someone in the audience snapped, “What’s with that attitude after plagiarizing? Miss Jiang gave you good advice, and you still refuse to repent?”

“In my opinion, Miss Jiang is just too kind-hearted. She shouldn’t have let her off so easily. She should have hired a lawyer to hold her accountable and make her infamous, so she could never get by in this field again.”

A chorus of agreement followed from the crowd.