CHAPTER 3

Even though Chi Shuang often claimed she was untalented and lazy, she was, after all, a formally trained actress.

Her skills might not match those of her more dedicated seniors, but to have survived in the industry for nearly a decade, her acting ability was more than sufficient for everyday life.

She wasn’t particularly close with Liang Qian’s childhood friends. Whenever they met, they were always polite to each other. She had no idea what they really thought of her, nor did she care—as long as things looked good on the surface, that was enough.

Before Liang Qian’s accident, she and Meng Huaiqian had barely exchanged a few words.

There was a faint sense of aloofness about Meng Huaiqian, making people instinctively wary, as if getting too close would invite his contemptuous gaze, the kind one might cast at something filthy.

But in truth, he wasn’t an especially arrogant or rude person. He was born into a prestigious family with a long and illustrious history. By the time it reached his generation, the discipline imposed on the heir was beyond what outsiders could imagine. Any habit—no matter how minor—that could potentially bring even the slightest negative impact on the family or the corporation was strictly forbidden.

If his temperament had been just a little gentler, he would have been the perfect textbook gentleman.

He never spoke harshly to others, nor did he make things difficult for anyone. But…

No matter how polite he was, from the very first time Chi Shuang met him, she felt uncomfortable.

It was obvious—while he looked at you and greeted you, he wouldn’t actually remember what you looked like. To him, you were no different from a decorative tree in the dining hall.

Chi Shuang had always been carefree, growing up pampered and adored. Naturally, she didn’t get along with someone who treated her as invisible. But she also never dwelled on it, never complained to Liang Qian, and never cared about what outsiders thought. So, every time she saw Meng Huaiqian, she would nod, exchange greetings, and then not bother getting involved.

Had she made progress now?

She mocked Meng Huaiqian with sarcasm every other day… sometimes even cursing him outright. That insufferably proud bastard might be furious but didn’t dare to show it. Within days, he’d call her again, and she could even hear the caution in his voice over the phone.

“Have I not told you not to call me out of the blue?” Chi Shuang’s voice was icy. “Unless you have news about Liang Qian!”

The person on the other end of the line was silent for two seconds before replying in a deep voice, “I’m sorry, there’s still no news.”

“Then why are you calling me?” Chi Shuang let out a cold laugh. “To ask if I’ve eaten? If I’m doing well? Meng Huaiqian, you really are something else. You know full well that I don’t want to see you, that I don’t even want to hear your voice, and yet you still—”

She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and sneered, “Are you clocking in for work or something? Because I’m starting to think you have ulterior motives. Are you calling just to check whether I’ve gone and killed myself over Liang Qian?”

Her parents, her friends—everyone only wanted her to move on.

To divert her attention, they never brought up Liang Qian in front of her.

Even when they were about to say, “The water is cold,” they would change it to “The water isn’t warm anymore.”

But Meng Huaiqian? He had no updates on Liang Qian, yet he kept contacting her under the guise of “concern.” As if he even knew how to care for someone. The moment he appeared in her life—his presence, his voice—she was instantly reminded that her fiancé had died saving him.

Just the thought of it made her seethe with hatred.

She hated Liang Qian for being reckless. She hated how much he valued his childhood friend. If the same situation had happened to her, he might have hesitated for a second before rushing in to protect her.

But when it was Meng Huaiqian? Liang Qian didn’t hesitate for even a fraction of a second.

She hated Meng Huaiqian so much she wished she could tear him apart. Did he not have any self-awareness? Did he not realize that the person she despised most, the last person she wanted to see, was him?

And yet, here he was, pretending to care for her?

She had never seen anyone show concern in such a way.

Her cousin, seeing Chi Shuang’s expression and hearing her tone, instinctively shrank back, wisely moving away to sit by the window.

She could tell—the person on the other end of the call was Liang Qian’s ill-fated friend.

Whenever she thought about the whole situation, she was so furious she wanted to storm down to the beach with a megaphone and scream—Liang Qian, you bastard! Get back here this instant!!

Back when Chi Shuang and she were hesitating about opening a restaurant, they had their doubts. After all, the restaurant industry wasn’t as profitable as before, and Chi Shuang… wasn’t exactly a top-tier celebrity with overwhelming fan support. Without the leverage of fan-driven business, opening a restaurant in the ridiculously expensive Beijing market could mean losing everything.

Chi Shuang could afford a loss—it would hurt, but she’d recover.

But for her, it meant investing her entire savings. She had to think carefully.

Then Liang Qian assured her, told her not to worry. Since he had guaranteed he would back his girlfriend financially, she felt reassured and decided to go all in.

And now…

She wanted to scream and cry—Liang Qian, come back!

Meng Huaiqian listened to the relentless accusations and fury on the other end of the call.

He could barely remember what Chi Shuang used to be like. He was twenty-eight now, and even his strictest parents had never scolded him this much.

Garbage.

Jinx.

And when she reached the peak of her rage, the kind of words that would be censored if spoken in public.

Over time, he had figured out her temper. He knew that interrupting her now would only add fuel to the fire. So he remained silent, listening as she unleashed her fury on him.

“Meng Huaiqian, are you even human?” Chi Shuang’s voice wavered for a second, but she quickly composed herself and raised her voice. “No, you’re not! If I have any psychological trauma, it’s all because of you. Let me tell you, I’ve come to terms with it now. Whatever. It wasn’t me who died—it wasn’t my life that was lost—so I don’t feel sad at all. It’s his own fault! If you two want to have an eternal friendship, that’s your business, not mine. If you have even a shred of shame, then don’t ever appear in front of me again!”

As she spoke, tears streamed down her face.

She realized she wasn’t in the best state right now.

She had never acted this way toward anyone else before.

If she could, she would have preferred to handle this gracefully. If Meng Huaiqian apologized, she would wipe her tears, respond with sorrowful resilience, and say, “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” She really wanted to play that role, follow that script.

But she couldn’t. The rage inside her needed an outlet.

Before, it had been Liang Qian.

No matter how willful she was, Liang Qian had always indulged her.

Now that Liang Qian was gone, who could she turn to? Was she supposed to cry in front of her parents, family, and friends every day? If this was a well, then she would stay inside alone. She just wanted to loudly tell the people outside who cared about her—Dad, Mom, Shiyu, Mengmeng—don’t worry, don’t come down, just wait for me, I’ll climb out soon!

But now, this wretched bastard Meng Huaiqian was standing at the edge of the well, looking down at her with an air of superiority, pretending to be righteous, and asking with insincere concern, “Are you okay?”

…

Sorry, but no.

She could only vent her anger on him.

“…I’m sorry,” Meng Huaiqian said stiffly.

Chi Shuang wanted to count just how many times this person had said “I’m sorry” to her in the past half month.

Probably more times than he had in the past twenty-something years combined.

Meng Huaiqian was indeed becoming increasingly fluent in saying those three words—but only in front of Chi Shuang.

He and Liang Qian had been friends for many years. The Liang family’s relatives, in front of him, always followed the same routine—first, they would put on a grand display of sorrow, wailing about how Liang Qian was lost before even reaching thirty. Then, they would wipe their tears, sincerely telling him that it wasn’t his fault, that he and the Meng family should not blame themselves, that they didn’t hold it against him.

For this kind of performance, he found it hard to say those three words.

But when Chi Shuang gritted her teeth, crying and cursing at him, his heart clenched tightly.

It was as if a rope called guilt was strangling him.

He even found himself willing to appear before her. He desperately wanted to hear her scolding, as if that might make him feel a little better. But in reality, it didn’t.

“I will keep searching for Liang Qian. If there’s any news, I’ll let you know immediately,” Meng Huaiqian said in a low voice. “But there’s something very important I need to discuss with you. Let me know when you’re free, okay?”

Chi Shuang said coldly, “What could we possibly have to discuss?”

Meng Huaiqian: “It won’t take much of your time. It’s very important.”

A smiling face doesn’t get hit. Meng Huaiqian had been treading carefully these days. Chi Shuang knew that someone like him was usually incredibly busy, so if he said it was important, it probably was. After yelling at him just now, she was already exhausted and had no energy left for sarcasm.

“Meng Huaiqian, this had better be really important.”

“When are you free?”

Chi Shuang snapped impatiently, “Better make it quick. I’m free right now!”

Why drag this out like some never-ending soap opera?

Meng Huaiqian agreed, “Alright, where would be a convenient place to meet?”

For a moment, Chi Shuang thought he sounded just like those real estate agents who used to pitch properties to her.

She wasn’t in the mood to pick another place, so she gave him the address of her restaurant, taking a bit of satisfaction in the thought—let him come and breathe in the lingering formaldehyde from the renovation.

After hanging up the phone, her anger faded, and she slumped down, her head drooping.

She still felt miserable.

She had been feeling a little better when she left home.

Her cousin saw her downcast expression and quickly poured her a glass of water, hesitating before asking, “Are you expecting a guest?”

Chi Shuang shook her head and said darkly, “Not a guest—a nemesis.”

Her cousin: “…”

After an awkward laugh, she asked, “Okay, so your nemesis… is his name Meng Huaiqian? Meng, as in the philosopher Mengzi; Huai, as in embrace; Qian, as in humility?”

“Why are you asking?”

Her cousin clutched her chest, feeling her heart tighten. “Is it Meng Huaiqian from Aolang Group?”

“…Sis!”

“Oh my god—” Her cousin covered her chest, eyes sparkling, looking at Chi Shuang as if she were a walking, talking pile of gold. “Shuangbao, I knew it! I knew it since we were kids! You were always destined for greatness! My dear Shuang, from now on, I’ll just follow your lead!”

Liang Qian was gone.

But!

A bigger, wealthier, better-connected, and endlessly obliging fool had arrived.