After Transmigrating As The Mother Of The Pitiful Female Supporting Character in a Campus Novel - Chapter 57

Shao Qing didn’t go to work today. She was somewhat surprised to receive a call from Big Yaozhou; after all, not long ago when Big Yaozhou had her accident, President Xia had taken the responsibility of looking after her away from Shao Qing.

To be precise, she had taken it back from both Yao Yao and her.

Therefore, Shao Qing was a bit dazed when Big Yaozhou contacted her. After hearing the girl’s request, she rubbed her face and climbed out of bed to check the traffic conditions to the neighboring city. She discovered the weather was quite bad; going to the neighboring city at this moment probably wasn’t feasible.

Public transport like buses was still running, but the drop-off points weren’t in very bustling areas. Big Yaozhou was, in the end, just a child; Shao Qing couldn’t simply let her go there alone.

However, planes couldn’t take off in thunderstorms. After a brief check, Shao Qing told Big Yaozhou her conclusion.

“So, you’re saying I can’t get over there right now?”

Shao Qing nodded, ignoring the urgency in Big Yaozhou’s voice, assuming the little troublemaker was just up to some new scheme and wanted to cause a stir. “You definitely can’t get there now. Why don’t you wait until the rain stops and check again?”

There was no follow-up from the other end of the line; the call was cut off immediately, leaving only a dial tone before the phone automatically skipped back to the home screen.

Shao Qing was baffled and began to feel uneasy. After a moment’s thought, she hurriedly found Yao Yao’s private contact and left her a message: “Is President Xia with you right now?”

At this time on a normal day, Yao Yao might have replied to Shao Qing in seconds while slacking off, but not today. The hole created by the kickbacks in the subsidiary’s procurement department was bigger than the hole Nuwa had to patch in the sky. The entire conference room was packed with over a dozen people, either standing or sitting.

Yao Yao silently sighed that Shao Qing was truly lucky to have picked a random day to slack off, just in time for a major crisis.

President Xia was wearing a dress; her suit jacket was draped over the back of her chair, and her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Her eyes were lowered as she looked at the paper documents spread out on the table. The subsidiary’s losses this time amounted to 700 million—and that was only what could be traced on the books for this year. The ledgers from previous years, which she hadn’t paid much attention to, were still being investigated.

The paper pages turned softly; the rustling sound was particularly terrifying in the silent office, like a blade hanging over their heads. President Xia, in the primary seat, held their lives in her hands; with a tug of the thread, she could send them to their doom.

Regardless of the severity of the sentence, over a decade of prison time was clearly unavoidable. Sweat broke out on several foreheads, and the flesh on their faces trembled uncontrollably, unable to fathom the thoughts of the person in the high seat.

“It seems I’m usually quite a kind person; the rumors outside are false.”

Outside, thunder and rain clashed. No matter how good the office’s soundproofing was, the hearts of the subsidiary managers sank along with those words, falling continuously as their vision blurred with darkness.

President Xia frowned slightly, looking at the ledger before her, a surge of anger stifled in her heart. She was certainly to blame for the lack of oversight regarding the subsidiary, but more importantly, the person behind this pointed directly at Chairman Sheng. The old fox’s presence in the company was enough to make one feel distracted and irritated.

Originally, Chairman Sheng’s daughter, General Manager Sheng, was also in the company, so the old fox himself didn’t interfere much—or perhaps he did, but only in General Manager Sheng’s name. But Sheng Liu was unwilling; she worked when she felt like it and ignored it when she didn’t.

After all, Sheng Liu was so lazy; as long as Lanyue was still operating, she had more dividends than she could ever spend in a year. Why bother working so hard to listen to Chairman Sheng?

But since when did Chairman Sheng start to clash with her directly on paper?

President Xia’s hand rested lightly on the smooth surface of the document, her eyes half-closed as she searched her memory for the answer. She didn’t sleep well; as she aged, she took more and more medication, some of which affected her memory. Finding an answer quickly was a difficult task.

Fortunately, in her hazy memories, there were very few entries regarding Sheng Liu. She had only met Sheng Liu a few times. Their first meeting was simply when Sheng Liu joined Lanyue; as the person in power at Lanyue, she naturally had to welcome her—especially since Chairman Sheng was a woman who had fought alongside her parents.

After that, it was only Sheng Liu’s opposition to a few decisions.

But those were just minor squabbles. Sheng Liu was completely different from Chairman Sheng and her sister. In high school, she studied art despite opposition; as an undergraduate, she was forced to study finance. For her master’s degree, she went abroad using a business school admission letter to trick Chairman Sheng, but changed her major as soon as she arrived. She was extremely rebellious and romantic.

The last time President Xia had a vivid memory of Sheng Liu was when she arrived in a wheelchair, her face bruised and purple, to submit her resignation letter.

As President Xia pondered, her hand unconsciously tapped the document, the light thud thud vibrating in the hearts of everyone in the office.

She still remembered sitting in her seat then and asking Sheng Liu if she needed help, but Sheng Liu had rejected her with dull, lifeless eyes.

When asked why she was resigning, Sheng Liu pursed her lips and simply said she didn’t like it; she was just someone drifting through life, and living off dividends was fine—there was no need to waste time here.

President Xia exchanged a few pleasantries, not caring what an acquaintance was going to do after leaving Lanyue; without Sheng Liu, her work would be easier to manage. Therefore, after approving the resignation, she promoted someone she trusted to Sheng Liu’s position. As for the person Chairman Sheng arranged later, she found a nice-sounding position for them.

It seemed that after Sheng Liu left, Chairman Sheng began to visit Lanyue frequently—contacting this director one day, dining with that executive the next—but never once coming to see President Xia.

Those who didn’t know better would think Xia Shibai was working for her; the largest shareholder of Lanyue was Chairman Sheng.

President Xia ran through the web of interests in her head and quickly understood that now was not the time to move against Chairman Sheng, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t deal with the people in front of her.

President Xia handed the documents to Yao Yao. “Call the police. Follow the standard legal procedures. Transfer Liang Yiqing to the subsidiary as Executive President. No matter how much it costs, fix this hole. For consumers and partners, compensate those who need compensation and apologize to those who need apologies. I’ll give Liang Yiqing maximum authority; this mess must be settled. I want to see an executive report next week.”

“Understood.” Yao Yao quickly signaled to the assistant standing beside her, who hurried out to call the police. The security guards at the conference room door blocked the area completely.

If they wanted to run, the only way out was to jump from the conference room window—but this was the 20th floor. Even if they did jump, since they had caused Xia Shibai such a huge loss, she certainly wouldn’t let even their families off.

President Xia was naturally not a kind soul. Most of the assets of these people standing here had long been transferred overseas; their wives and children were abroad, still able to enjoy the wealth they had taken. When these people got out, the money could be sent to them in installments or they could leave quietly.

Either way, President Xia was unwilling.

Her money—even if she threw it in the water and heard no ripple—would absolutely not be enjoyed by them in peace. As for how to get it back, there are many more “addictive” methods abroad than at home; targeting someone there was easier for her than doing it domestically.

The conference room went from silence to a noisy mess, but none of it distracted President Xia from her own thoughts.

Buzz buzz—

Amidst the noise, the vibration of her phone on the table was particularly noticeable. President Xia’s gaze fell back to her phone; the number displayed was a family number. Her eyes lowered; she didn’t hang up immediately, but she didn’t move either.

She just quietly tilted her head to look at the phone on the table.

A moment later, the call disconnected automatically. President Xia’s gaze didn’t shift, remaining on the phone until another call came in, also showing the family number. Her brow furrowed; she couldn’t understand why a family short-code would be calling her.

After all, Big Yaozhou’s phone had an independent card, not a supplementary card on her plan. Their relationship wasn’t good enough to open a family-sharing short-code package. Unless it was a carrier glitch, it could only be a horror story.

When the phone rang a second time, President Xia didn’t hesitate long and answered.

On both ends of the line, a thunderclap exploded simultaneously, shaking the sky. On the other end, there was first a rustling sound of friction, followed by a child’s soft sobbing.

If this were any other time, when would President Xia have the time to coax a child? She was so busy with work she barely had time to breathe; how could she have time for such a boring call?

A difficult word of comfort forced its way out of President Xia’s mouth: “Don’t cry.”

“Wuwuwu…”

Hearing her voice, the person on the other end cried even louder, turning into a full dry wail.

President Xia had a slight headache. In her ear was the exploding sound of a child crying; in front of her were noisy people trying to argue that their large villas and luxury cars had nothing to do with Lanyue—that they had earned them through their own hard work—or crying poverty, crying about how much effort they had put into Lanyue and how she could treat them this way.

President Xia shot a look at Yao Yao, stood up, and walked out. Once inside the empty elevator, she offered a stiff comfort: “Stop crying. Is something wrong?”

“Mama… Big Me ran out to find Auntie Qin! She left me at home all alone. It’s raining so, so hard. Wuwuwu, I can’t get out, and I can’t find Big Me.”

President Xia hesitantly moved the phone away from her ear, then brought it back a moment later. The child was still crying, saying things she couldn’t understand.

President Xia deliberated for a moment and interrupted: “You’ve called the wrong number. I’m not your mother.”

“Wuwuwu, b-but… but I’m your daughter…”

“…My daughter is already in the third year of middle school.”

Left at home, Xia Yaozhou wiped her tears, blinking as she stared at the PAW Patrol episode that had started playing. Her crying gradually subsided. Hearing President Xia’s words, she couldn’t help but pout: “But I am your daughter. It’s just that I’m the Little Daughter, and she is the Big Daughter.”

“Big Me wouldn’t listen. After reading the little note Mama told me to give her, she ran out, saying Auntie Qin was in danger. Now she’s left me here alone. It’s thundering and raining; I’m scared, Mama.”

When Xia Yaozhou didn’t hear a response for a long time, she looked at her watch through tear-rimmed eyes. The family call hadn’t been disconnected; the interface still showed the call in progress, and the contact name was “Mama.”

“Mama said I could call this number for help. she said if I called and told Mama everything that happened after I arrived, the PAW Patrol would come to help me.”

There was no sound from the other end for a long time. Outside the window, white light flashed in the dark sky, followed by another thunderous boom. Xia Yaozhou huddled on the sofa wrapped in her blanket, lightly tapped her children’s watch, and said softly, “Are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

The elevator doors opened and closed. President Xia, standing inside, didn’t step out. Perhaps she was shocked by the words on the phone; it wasn’t until the elevator started moving again that she snapped out of it and, as if possessed, pressed the button for the second basement floor.

“Where are you right now?”

“I—I’m at home…” Xia Yaozhou said in a small voice. “Mama, when are you coming to help me and the other me?”

President Xia glanced down at the watch on her wrist. “Driving there from here will take twenty minutes at the fastest. What are you doing now?”

“Watching… watching PAW Patrol!” Mentioning the cartoon, Xia Yaozhou’s voice rose in volume. Her eyes peered through the gap in the blanket toward the TV where the cartoon was playing, and she became immersed again by the light.

It was hard for President Xia to judge if this was real or fake—the youthful voice, the fantastical yet logical words, and…

Through the app shared with her phone from the cameras installed in her home, it wasn’t hard to see a large bundle wrapped in a blanket on the living room sofa, moving occasionally. The sound of fabric rustling came through the still-active call.

No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t lie to herself.

“Don’t hang up. I’m coming back right now.”

Ten seconds after her car drove from the underground garage onto the surface, Shao Qing’s message popped up in the middle of the car’s tablet.

“Boss, your daughter hailed a long-distance car herself to the neighboring city. She just shared the tracking order with me now… It’s raining non-stop in the neighboring city; I’m worried about her safety.”

“Most importantly, she won’t answer my calls.”

President Xia skimmed the short message and couldn’t help but glance at the phone still on the call.

From the other end came even breathing and the occasional “Wow” murmurs from watching TV.

Just like a real child.

Xia Yaozhou’s… childhood?

President Xia couldn’t imagine it at all. One “troublemaker” was enough of a headache; now there was another. Did the universe think she had lived enough at thirty-plus and was preparing to send her to her grave?