Chapter 3: It Feels Different

Fan Shengmei’s words struck right at Qu Xiaoxiao’s pride. She flared up instantly.

“Sister Fan, what do you mean by that?!”

Crossing her arms, Qu Xiaoxiao gave Shengmei a slow, mocking once-over, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Oh~ I get it. You’re only saying this because I exposed your little disguise. You think words like that can hurt me? Please. Talk all you want—it won’t change reality.”

She was convinced Shengmei was just lashing out in frustration.

Shengmei only nodded.

“If that’s what you believe, then so be it. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave. Suit yourself.”

With that, she walked away gracefully, leaving Qu Xiaoxiao gnashing her teeth in anger.

“What’s with her? She lies, and yet somehow she’s the one in the right? I was only standing up for justice!”

Qu Xiaoxiao looked arrogant on the surface, but inside, she was insecure. She always judged others through the harshest, most cynical lens, as though that made her clever. Forever standing high above, looking down on others, she believed women had only one real means—men.

Wasn’t that exactly how she had once judged Andy, assuming she was just a mistress? And now she turned the same harsh gaze on Shengmei, branding her a gold-digger without hesitation.

But in truth, Shengmei no longer cared about the label.

Those who have never suffered should not lecture others on virtue.

Qu Xiaoxiao had grown up in an environment where she was adored and admired, with male attention showered on her since she was young. For her, it was normal.

—After all, she was a great beauty.

Even at thirty, she still stood out in any crowd.

At first, she had wanted to settle down with a boyfriend and live an honest life. But most men just wanted to play with her, dazzled by her looks. She was little more than a pretty vase to show off.

Later, she told herself she had seen through men, convincing herself it was all mutual exchange—that the gifts were just payment for being that vase.

…

Back in her room, Shengmei found Wang Baichuan waiting at the door.

He was squatting there like a soaked stray dog, but the moment he saw her, his eyes lit up. He scrambled to his feet, fussing nervously with his clothes.

“Xiao Mei… are you alright?” he asked, awkwardly concerned.

Shengmei shook her head.

“I’m fine. I just took a soak in the hot spring and had a little something to eat. What about you? Have you eaten?”

He shook his head. He hadn’t eaten yet—he had been waiting there all along.

Shengmei’s tone softened with concern.

“Then you should go eat something quickly. It’s miserable to go hungry at night.”

But he stayed where he was, looking at her with guilt and hesitation.

“Xiao Mei, about today’s incident…”

He trailed off, unsure how to begin.

Shengmei smiled lightly, showing no embarrassment at all.

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I was just tagging along with Andy, hoping to relax a little here, and instead, I ruined the mood for everyone.”

Wang Baichuan shook his head quickly.

“No, no—that was because of Miss Qu being unreasonable. Whether you live alone in 2202 or not, it doesn’t matter. Housing prices in Shanghai are sky-high—it’s perfectly understandable. I only came because I was worried about you. But now that I see you’re in good spirits, I can relax.”

Shengmei’s lips curved in a faint smile, but inside, his words stirred nothing.

If it really didn’t matter to him, then he wouldn’t have asked the security guard.

Maybe he just thought that a less independent Shengmei would be easier for him to approach.

It was always like this: men wanted a woman who was accomplished and elegant in public, but a humble, obedient wife at home—someone who could make others envy them when shown off.

Shengmei didn’t bother to say more. After all, she had been given another chance, and this time, she wouldn’t waste herself on Wang Baichuan.

Yes, she had once clung to him as her escape, desperately hoping he would save her. But deep down, he had also judged her, maybe even looked down on her—thinking she was weak, someone he could control.

Wasn’t the house the best example?

When Wang Baichuan first came to Shanghai, it was Shengmei who ran around helping him find a place to work.

All she got in return was a verbal “thank you.”

But that’s not how adult favors work.

Her time and energy couldn’t just be wasted. So, under her hints, she asked him for a Hermès scarf.

Even then, she could see his reluctance.

“You should go back and get some rest. Waiting here this long must have been tiring,” Shengmei said, her tone politely dismissive.

Wang Baichuan opened his mouth, wanting to say more, but in the end, he stayed silent.

As he left, he comforted himself with the thought: She didn’t expose my secret about the rented car. Maybe… maybe I still have a chance. Maybe I can still reach the goddess I once admired.

After sending him off, Shengmei returned to her room and slept peacefully, the hot spring having soothed her completely.

The next morning, she went for a massage. The skilled hands of the therapist made even well-rested Shengmei feel drowsy again, the fragrance of essential oils lingering at her nose as she relaxed.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside. Qiu Yingying and Guan Ju’er rushed into the massage room, with Andy following close behind.

“Sister Fan!”

“Sister Fan!”

Shengmei raised her head in confusion, staring at their anxious faces.

“What’s wrong?”

Yingying was nearly in tears.

“We went to your room and you weren’t there—we thought something had happened to you!”

Guan Ju’er nodded nervously.

“We were afraid… You might have done something rash. Only after asking the staff did we learn you were here, so we came running.”

Glancing at her phone, Shengmei suddenly understood.

“Ah, my message didn’t go through. I made you worry for nothing.”

She shook her head with a laugh.

“Honestly, do I look like someone who’d do something so foolish? The massage was almost done anyway. I just wanted to take advantage of Andy’s treat and indulge a little—really relax. Not despair, just relax. Why are you three in such a panic?”

She got dressed, looking at their worried faces, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Later that day, just as planned, they left the villa by boat and returned to their small apartment in Joy of Life.

On the way back, Andy drove while Shengmei sat in the passenger seat. Andy glanced at her, her mind unsettled.

Noticing, Shengmei asked:

“What is it?”

Andy hesitated, then spoke thoughtfully.

“I just feel… you’ve changed. You’re not quite the same as before.”

From the back seat, Yingying poked her head forward.

“Really? Sister Fan looks the same to me—actually, even prettier than before!”

Shengmei reached back and pinched her cheek.

“Sweet talker.”

But Guan Ju’er understood Andy’s meaning.

“Andy-jie, you mean Sister Fan’s whole aura feels different, right?”

Andy nodded.

“Yes. Exactly that. Since last night, you’ve felt different to me. More composed. As if nothing can fluster you anymore.”