Appearing on a Marriage Show Before Getting Divorced - Chapter 26

Ruan Youran’s reply was simple—just one word: “Okay.”

But Chu Nian looked at that one word over and over again, and a smile gradually began to dance in her eyes. Previously, she had been too anxious; her frantic, disorganized attempts at reconciliation had only triggered Youran’s resistance and resentment.

Now, Chu Nian had calmed her mind. She had thought it through. For these next three months, if “Jianjian” could forgive her, that would be wonderful. If not, she would be content to stay by her side as a good friend.

Youran had always been loyal to her friends, which was why she had stared at the message for a long time after receiving it. She wasn’t intentionally delaying the reply; she was truly reflecting.

When they were younger, if they fought or had a cold war, Youran would intentionally take a long time to reply to messages as a way to vent. Chu Nian never said anything and showed no reaction—until once, while they were relaxing and watching TV together. A plot point involved the male lead waiting for the female lead’s text; he was so anxious he couldn’t sleep, his face flushing with nerves.

Youran had laughed then: “This is way too exaggerated.” Chu Nian had whispered: “It really happens.”

Youran was stunned for a long time. She looked down at Chu Nian, who was biting her lip with a hint of grievance in her eyes. From that day on, no matter how angry Youran was, she never intentionally delayed a reply to Chu Nian’s messages. She knew that for someone with Chu Nian’s personality, her mouth couldn’t express it, so text messages were her only real mode of communication.

However… Youran took a drag of her cigarette. Under the dim light, she exhaled a ring of smoke. Something about her seemed different now. Perhaps she really had let go.

The day for Chu Nian to return home arrived in a blink. Before leaving, she kissed Zhengzhi’s forehead. Zhengzhi, having picked up a new gesture from someone, clenched her small hand into a fist and gave a forceful pump: “Mamma, fighting! Victory!”

Chu Nian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Lilo was still a bit worried. “Nian Nian, no matter what happens, you must return as soon as the time is up. You cannot delay again. Truly, you cannot. Do you understand?” Her eyes searched Chu Nian’s heart.

Chu Nian nodded. “I understand.” Instinctively, her hand touched her chest. Hold on… just hold on a little longer…

A ten-hour international flight is usually the most draining experience. In the past, Youran would suffer through every minute, and Chu Nian would have to coax her just to get her to sit down. This time, although she was alone, Chu Nian had something to look forward to, so the time didn’t feel as long.

On the plane, a little girl in the front row was acting up. She clearly didn’t like sitting still. She cried off and on, complaining to her mother in a mix of Chinese and English.

Her mother sat there calmly, looking at the girl with a cool expression: “Ruoruo, you’re the one who insisted on flying back with Mommy. Now you’re crying again—are you trying to bully Mommy?”

The little girl pouted, her eyes watery, and shook her head. Surprisingly, she settled down immediately, sitting upright and quiet. Chu Nian couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile. This child was a bit like Zhengzhi—both were so obedient.

The little girl turned and saw Chu Nian smiling. Her face flushed, and she hid for a second, but because Chu Nian was so beautiful, she couldn’t help but peek again. Peek, then hide. After several rounds of this, her mother turned around to look at Chu Nian.

When their eyes met, both were stunned. They hadn’t expected to run into an old classmate here. Li Feifei was Chu Nian’s university classmate. They hadn’t seen each other in ages. Feifei’s family ran a hotel business that now had chains all over the world.

Student-era friendships are relatively pure. After a brief exchange, Feifei fed Ruoruo some water. Ruoruo seemed to really like Chu Nian, her big watery eyes still hooked on her.

“Drink your water. Why do you keep looking at Auntie?” Feifei asked. “She’s so pretty,” Ruoruo whispered.

Feifei looked at Chu Nian with a mix of helplessness and apology. Chu Nian smiled and stroked the girl’s hair, which surprised Feifei. She remembered Chu Nian in university being very cold and never proactively reaching out to anyone. Having a child of her own had softened Chu Nian’s heart toward others’ children; she found herself missing Zhengzhi.

Upon landing, Li Feifei had many suitcases, and her driver came to pick her up. She turned to Chu Nian: “Need a lift?”

Chu Nian shook her head, and before she could speak, Ruan Youran walked over. “Hey, Sister Fei!”

Li Feifei was slightly surprised to see Youran. She looked at Chu Nian, a look of realization dawning on her. Youran glanced at Chu Nian. Before their eyes could even meet, Youran habitually took Chu Nian’s suitcase and started walking ahead.

Jianjian was naturally good with kids. As soon as she arrived, Ruoruo seemed to forget the “pretty Auntie” and started shouting and running while helping Youran push the suitcase.

Watching from behind, Chu Nian felt a pang of heartache. If only Zhengzhi were here…

Li Feifei remained silent. Having taken over the family business at eighteen, she was usually quite stern. But as they neared the airport exit, she looked at Chu Nian and said meaningfully, “Is it still her?”

Chu Nian looked into Feifei’s eyes, paused for a moment, and then nodded.

Before they left, Ruoruo actually hugged Youran and started crying, refusing to let go. No matter who persuaded her, it didn’t work until Feifei pulled her away by force.

Once in the car, without the noise of the child, only Chu Nian and Youran remained. The atmosphere turned awkward. Chu Nian had rehearsed many opening lines on the plane, but at this moment, she couldn’t say a word.

Youran, however, seemed very relaxed. She hummed a tune and handed something over: “Here, egg tarts. You must be hungry, eat something first.”

In the past, after a flight, Chu Nian always wanted egg tarts—usually the ones Youran baked herself. It was a luxury she hadn’t had in a long time. Chu Nian took them and opened the bag. When she smelled that familiar aroma, her eyes stung.

I can’t… I can’t be like this. I can’t cry.

Youran glanced at Chu Nian through the rearview mirror. After a moment, Chu Nian looked up and said, “Thank you.”

They really had become like strangers. Chu Nian had a polite habit even with her lover; early in their relationship, she would subconsciously say “thank you” for everything Youran did. Youran’s family didn’t have that habit, believing that being too polite meant being less intimate. In the first year of their marriage, Youran had “corrected” this “flaw” in Chu Nian.

One morning, Chu Nian had finished a shower and wanted to dry her hair. After Youran dried it for her, Chu Nian said “thank you.” Youran gave a seductive smile and said in a soft but commanding voice: “I think you just wasted your shower.” Then… she pounced with predatory intent.

That day, Chu Nian ended up showering four times. Her “politeness” was thoroughly trained away. And now, in a daze, they had returned to the beginning. Chu Nian wasn’t discouraged; holding the egg tart, her heart felt warm.

On the way, Youran’s phone rang. Because she was driving, she used Bluetooth. It was Soya. Hearing Soya’s voice, Chu Nian turned her head toward the window to look outside.

“Rose! Come on, we’re waiting for you!” “Ancestor,” Youran said helplessly, “I told you I’m picking someone up.” “Oh, what’s there to fear?” The music on Soya’s end was incredibly loud. “Bring them along! It’s the perfect time to show off your voice!”

Soya was not one for formalities; she didn’t care who Youran was picking up. The party was set—she wasn’t going to let Youran miss it.

Hanging up, Youran glanced at Chu Nian while waiting at a red light. Chu Nian nodded: “It’s fine, I don’t have anything else to do.” Youran didn’t explain further, made a U-turn, and took Chu Nian with her.

When they arrived, Chu Nian realized it was a small bar. As the door opened, deafening music swept over them like a tidal wave. Youran entered with a smile, appearing familiar with everyone as she introduced Chu Nian.

The bar wasn’t overly crowded—just enough to keep the atmosphere hot. Most were foreigners, so Chu Nian didn’t feel too restricted. People didn’t seem to care about their status as celebrities. Soya, wearing a cool black leather jacket and holding a guitar, walked over. “So you went to pick up Film Queen Chu.”

Youran smiled. “Wait long?”

Soya’s eyes locked onto Chu Nian. Her makeup was heavy today, giving her a wild, provocative look as she stared at the star. Chu Nian noticed it immediately and met Soya’s gaze calmly.

“I’m going on stage soon,” Youran told Chu Nian. “If you don’t like the noise, go to the small bar counter over there; it’s quieter.” “Go ahead,” Chu Nian smiled faintly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Youran nodded. She took off her jacket as she walked toward the stage, clearly at home here. Her foreign friends laughed and asked, “Rose, who is that? She’s so beautiful.”

Youran’s response was soft, but every word fell into Chu Nian’s ears like a long, bleeding gash: “A friend. Just an ordinary friend.” “Oh? Why emphasize ‘ordinary’?”

The stage was half a meter high. Youran propped herself up and jumped on, and everyone cheered. “Rose!” “AAHHH, Ruan Youran!!!!”

The crowd began to boil. People cheered, whistled, and some even held up light boards. Youran took the electric guitar from Soya, slung it across her body, and brushed her hand through her hair, letting her black tresses fall like a waterfall. The crowd went wild.

Sitting on a high stool, Chu Nian watched Youran. Her hands shook, her heart hammered, and the blood in her body felt ignited. Youran’s stage presence was incredible. She had been in a band in university, but back then, her focus was entirely on Chu Nian. Whenever Chu Nian returned from filming, Youran would ditch rehearsals to be with her. Eventually, the band members got fed up, and she stopped going.

Amidst the explosive music, Youran’s fingers moved quickly over the guitar strings. The lights shifted as she opened with a high-tempo track: Love You Like a Love Song, Baby.

With a raspy voice, Youran’s performance had a unique flair. She knew how to work the crowd; wherever she looked, the audience erupted. Soya stood beside her, with the drummer behind them. As she hit the chorus, Youran tossed her hair and narrowed her eyes with an “electric” gaze. The audience went into a frenzy.

Standing in the crowd, Chu Nian couldn’t help but sway to the rhythm, tears shimmering in her eyes. She couldn’t say exactly why.

When the high-energy song ended, the lights dimmed and the band retreated. The stage belonged to her alone. Youran took off her shoes, tucked her skirt, and sat on the floor, quietly beginning to sing The Sun.

Under the dim lights, Youran entered a trance-like state, singing and playing alone. The soft melody and heartbreaking lyrics made the audience go silent.

“You always feel lonely and depressed…” “You always feel disappointed…” “You always pretend it doesn’t hurt…” “You always smile through the pain…” … “I just want to be your sun…” “Your sun…” “Inside your heart…” “Deep in your heart…” “No matter how far the distance…” “Don’t be afraid, I am by your side…”

Youran’s voice was highly distinctive—not overly sweet, but with a tremolo that shook the soul.

“She’s crying,” an audience member noted. People were surprised; Youran had played here several times, always full of energy, but they had never seen her so moved.

Tears were infectious. Soon, others in the crowd were sobbing along. Youran was facing Chu Nian as she sang. Unbeknownst to her, Chu Nian was already covered in tears; she knew exactly who this song was for, and why it was so devastating.

Soya had been drinking. She pushed through the crowd and walked over to Chu Nian. “Did you hear that?”

Chu Nian turned to look at her. Soya stared into her eyes, suppressing a fire within. “When you weren’t back, she was very happy. She was never like this.”

Chu Nian remained silent. Soya said coldly: “Memories are just memories. Beyond sadness, they possess no power.”

Normally, Chu Nian wouldn’t care about anyone’s words besides Youran’s, but right now, something felt like it was scraping against her heart. Soya leaned in, her eyes fixed on Chu Nian, enunciating every word:

“Such a wonderful girl… Chu Nian, since you gave her up once, don’t think about taking her back! I will make her happy forever!”