The Creator's Grace - Chapter 24

After Zhou Yu left, the north wind surged, blowing the bare branches until they looked like the wildly dancing claws of a beast. The signboards in front of the green belt swayed back and forth, appearing as if they were shivering.

Ran Jin was already dressed lightly, and being hit by this gust made her tremble slightly. Chi Yu took one look at her thin trench coat and her bare, scarf-less neck before pulling her into the car; the two sat in the back seat.

“How did you do it? How did you make Zhou Yu so devoted to you?” Chi Yu asked bluntly the moment she closed the car door.

The warmth inside the car caused Ran Jin’s skin, which had been frozen numb, to gradually regain sensation. Ran Jin fastened the cufflinks of her trench coat. “I can’t tell you right now, otherwise you would definitely come and cause trouble.”

Recalling Chu Wei’s mention that Zhou Yu might be seeing someone else, and thinking of the baseless rumors surrounding Ran Jin and her own feigned flippancy, Chi Yu said unpleasantly:

“I indeed want to get back at you and make you leave the Chi Group. But I know where to draw the line. I told you—regarding the trans-lunar orbit, you can beg me for mercy; you don’t have to go out and plead with others. Don’t you think you have enough scandals on your plate already?”

If Ran Jin were willing to reconcile at this moment, tell the truth, and exit the Chi Group, Chi Yu would keep her previous promise to keep the impact of this matter to a minimum.

Ran Jin understood the underlying meaning. She smiled and said, “Don’t overthink it. The relationship between Zhou Yu and me isn’t what you imagine. Although I want to enjoy life, I’m not particularly interested in men.”

“Overthink it?” Chi Yu pushed aside Ran Jin’s deliberate lightheartedness, her voice deepening as she returned to her ultimate goal. “From beginning to end, I only want to know how my sister died. I have no interest in knowing about your affairs on the outside.”

Ran Jin’s expression gradually turned cold, and she showed no intention of speaking. Chi Yu knew that no matter what she asked or how she asked it, Ran Jin wouldn’t talk. Hysterical questioning would only make her look like an incompetent fool.

“If you still refuse to speak, then we will just keep fighting like this.” Chi Yu’s eyes reddened. “As long as the truth of Sister’s death remains hidden, I won’t let you off for a single day. I will pry that mouth of yours open one day. I’ll spend my whole life wearing you down.”

Ran Jin knew that a dead knot had been tied between her heart and Chi Yu’s, linking them together; one pull, and both would feel the pain.

In the brief silence, Chi Yu noticed that the wound on Ran Jin’s lip from where she had bitten her had scabbed over. A small patch of dark red looked particularly conspicuous against her delicate lips.

“It’s for the best if nothing is going on between you and that Zhou Yu.” Chi Yu had received the answer she wanted and prepared to get out of the car; she was afraid Qi Tong wouldn’t be able to handle Chu Wei and that trouble would follow. “Just letting you know, Aunt and Uncle are coming over tomorrow evening. They want you to come home for dinner. Back to the Chi house.”

Aunt and Uncle were the relatives who had been best to the Chi sisters. When they first lost their parents, it was their aunt and uncle—who weren’t in good health and didn’t have much money—who had been helping them out. Chi Yu knew they both remembered that kindness. Now that life was better, they were very filial to these elders, visiting them in the neighboring city whenever they had time.

Chi Yu couldn’t possibly ignore her aunt and uncle’s words. Likely, they had seen the news, were terrified, and planned to counsel the younger generation, asking Chi Yu to bring Ran Jin home for a gathering to talk things through. Chi Yu didn’t want them to worry, so she had to agree.

“Mhm,” Ran Jin responded.

“What time are you coming?”

“What time do you want me there?”

“Six o’clock tomorrow evening.”

“Alright.”

Chi Yu stepped out of the car, once again enveloped in the cold. Recalling that last conversation, Ran Jin’s tone felt familiar, as if returning to the past when she was completely obedient—as if nothing had ever happened between them.

Chi Yu walked back to her car with her head down. By the time she returned, Chu Wei had fallen into a deep sleep under the dual influence of alcohol and Qi Tong.

Chi Yu: “…Are you going to carry her upstairs?”

Qi Tong: “? Sister Yu, do you have a heart? I’m working for you here!”

Left with no choice, Chi Yu had Qi Tong lift Chu Wei onto her back. After finding the property management to get the address, and with their assistance, she nearly died of exhaustion but finally managed to transport Chu Wei to her front door.

They rang the doorbell for ages before Zhou Yu finally opened it slowly. Seeing the people at the door, Zhou Yu guardedly took Chu Wei into his arms. By now, Chu Wei had regained some consciousness; she slumped in his arms, crying and hitting him, calling him shameless and heartless…

“Thank you.” Although he said the words, Zhou Yu’s face didn’t look thankful at all; instead, he looked wary and impatient. Chi Yu wanted to say a few words to him, but he didn’t give her the chance, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

Qi Tong: “…What kind of person is that? So rude.”

Chi Yu looked toward the peephole for a moment and said, “Let’s go.”

On the way home, Chi Yu sent Chu Wei a WeChat message asking how she was. Chu Wei didn’t reply until Chi Yu woke up the next day and found a response from half an hour prior:

【I’m fine now, just a bit of a headache. Zhou Yu told me. Thank you for bringing me back last night.】

Chi Yu exchanged a few messages with her, confirming she didn’t remember seeing Ran Jin the previous night. She told her to rest well and suggested they grab a meal next time.

After closing WeChat, Chi Yu called her old employer to explain her situation; she would need to stay in the country for another month. The company was quite lenient; aside from a pay cut, they kept everything reserved for her. After all, she was the most high-profile rising scientist in lunar orbits in recent years; FPIU wouldn’t let her go easily. Even if she left FPIU, many companies would be clamoring for her.

Looking at the current situation, it was possible Chi Yu might stay in the country for good. However, everything was still subject to change.

On the day of the planned dinner, Aunt and Uncle arrived at noon. Auntie Su helped prepare the guest room, and the two of them organized the local specialties they’d brought into the fridge. They even went out to buy groceries, saying they wanted to cook for Xiao Yu and Xiao Ran personally.

“Auntie will make your favorite flatfish, okay?”

Back when the Chi family was struggling, they didn’t have much money and couldn’t afford expensive fish, but her aunt’s cooking was top-tier. Especially the flatfish; she would coat it in starch, deep-fry it, and pour a sweet and sour sauce over it. Crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, it was delicious and appetizing; Chi Yu could eat four of them by herself.

Chi Yu stayed in the kitchen with them the whole time, acting like a good child. “Sure! I haven’t had Auntie’s flatfish in years; I’ve been craving it.”

Uncle, who was chopping vegetables loudly on the side, said, “That’s because you ran off so far away. Your aunt wanted to make you something good but couldn’t find you. You must have suffered a lot being out there alone.”

Chi Yu smiled. “With you two thinking of me, it wasn’t hard.”

Chi Yu not only looked sweet but spoke sweetly too, which put the two elders in a great mood. They were in poor health and hadn’t had children of their own, so they had always treated Chi Li and Chi Yu as their biological daughters. Chi Yu also respected them deeply; no matter how much she acted out elsewhere, she was always a “good kid” in front of them.

As six o’clock approached, Aunt kept glancing out the window, muttering, “Why isn’t Xiao Ran here yet?” Aunt and Uncle had always treated Ran Jin as family; in the past, whenever they bought gifts for Chi Li or Chi Yu, they would always bring one for Ran Jin.

“I’ll give her a call,” Chi Yu said politely, holding her phone. She stepped out of the kitchen and sent a cold voice message to Ran Jin:

【Are you coming or not?】

Just as the message was sent, she heard Butler Chen’s voice outside: “Miss Ran, you’re here.”

The door opened, and Ran Jin entered the house along with a gust of cold air. She was looking down at her phone; Chi Yu’s voice was being played aloud, echoing in the speaker’s ears.

“I said I would come, so I will,” Ran Jin put the phone back in her pocket, took off her coat, and placed her clutch on the table.

Chi Yu noticed she was still wearing the suit she used for work under her coat, knowing she had been busy all day. Chi Yu gave her a specific instruction: “Aunt and Uncle came here today to talk about us. I don’t want our grievances to make them unhappy.”

As Ran Jin hung up her coat, she said obediently, “Okay, I’ll cooperate with you.”

Chi Yu, who had more to say: “…”

This agreement made it feel as though the confrontation and tension between them had never existed—as if the next second her sister would walk through the door, pull her into a hug, and join this ordinary family gathering.

Chi Yu’s nose felt a bit stingy. she turned her head and said in a low voice, “Wash your hands and eat.”

Just as Chi Yu thought, Aunt and Uncle had seen the overwhelming news lately and were worried there was a conflict between the two, or that the relationship had developed into a difficult stage. They had rushed over to smooth things out.

During dinner, the elders kept talking about how close the three of them had been over the years, saying the bond between Xiao Yu and Xiao Ran was a rare fate—closer than blood relatives. They mentioned how the uncles had left for now, but no one knew if they’d cause trouble again, so the two had to help each other.

They didn’t eat much, but they said a lot.

Chi Yu saw that her aunt’s voice was nearly hoarse. To comfort her and to prove the relationship between her and Ran Jin hadn’t changed, she took Ran Jin’s hand and said:

“Don’t worry, Auntie. Sister-in-law and I are doing great. Now that Sister is gone, Sister-in-law and I naturally have to work together to hold the Group up. we won’t let those with hidden motives take advantage.”

Ran Jin felt a bit uncomfortable at the sudden hand-holding. But since she had agreed to cooperate, she didn’t pull her hand away, letting her hold it. Chi Yu’s hand was dry and slender, her palm very hot. Ran Jin’s cold hand was quickly warmed by her.

Seeing the elders’ expressions turn stiff and their smiles become unnatural, Chi Yu obviously knew what they were thinking. How could they not know about the “Forbidden Kiss” that the whole world knew about?

Chi Yu added: “Don’t look at those messy reports; they’re just for clickbait. She is my sister-in-law—she was in the past, she is now, and she will be in the future. Always.”

Ran Jin turned her head to look at Chi Yu, meeting her bright eyes.

“Mhm,” Ran Jin smiled along with her. “Always.”

It had been a while since Aunt and Uncle had visited; the last time was Chi Li’s memorial service, where they were too grief-stricken to say much. Since Chi Yu had been abroad, they rarely gathered, so they chatted about the past until late into the night.

“Sigh, my second brother… Xiao Yu’s father, was so pitiful. Gone at such a young age, leaving behind two even more pitiful children… I was in the hospital then and didn’t know what to do.” After a bit of wine, Aunt began reminiscing about the old days with tears and sniffles.

Chi Yu saw Ran Jin pushing through her exhaustion to stay and chat with them. She didn’t dare drink wine and only had peach juice, but her eyelids were drooping. She would blink, then lift her head again. It was clear she hadn’t rested well lately.

By the time dinner was finished, it was past midnight. Seeing Ran Jin appearing a bit dazed, with the north wind howling outside and tree shadows dancing wildly, Aunt said:

“Xiao Ran, don’t leave tonight. Stay here and sleep.”

Ran Jin was indeed tired. she looked toward Chi Yu with some hesitation. To keep the elders from worrying, Chi Yu followed her aunt’s lead:

“The bedroom is still the same as it was.”

Ran Jin said “Sorry for the intrusion” to Chi Yu, took her coat and clutch, and went upstairs.

While Chi Yu was going to feed Lulu, Aunt brought over a plate with two peeled oranges. She said to Chi Yu, “These are the honey oranges Xiao Ran likes. Take them to your sister-in-law.”

Being someone who had seen it all, Aunt could tell there was an awkwardness between them; sending the oranges was meant to further mend the relationship. Not wanting her aunt to worry, Chi Yu decided to play the act to the end. It was just two oranges; she carried them upstairs.

She knocked, but there was no answer. Chi Yu said “I’m coming in,” planning to drop the oranges and leave. The sound of water came from the bathroom; Ran Jin was showering.

Just as Chi Yu was about to leave, her gaze fell on a photo album on the shelf. She walked forward and took it down.

Holding the heavy album, the first pages were photos of her sister and parents. Gradually, a new member was added to the family of three, and little Chi Yu was squeezed between the three. As she flipped page by page, the protagonists in the photos became just two: a pair of serious, prematurely mature sisters. For a long time, there were no photos of the two together because there were no parents to take them. Chi Yu had many solo photos, all taken by her sister. Her smile had slowly grown more frequent with age; her sister had always taken such good care of her.

Flipping to the last third of the album, Chi Yu had seen the remaining photos on cameras and phones, but she hadn’t seen them developed into physical copies. As Chi Yu entered adolescence, she began having her own world and circle of friends; whenever her sister nagged from behind, she rarely paid attention to what her sister was doing. Naturally, she hadn’t noticed which new photos had been added to this album that carried the Chi family’s memories.

Continuing through, there were more photos of the two sisters together, most of them taken by Ran Jin. There were also many selfies that Chi Yu had been forced by her sister to send back; some of the expressions in the selfies showed obvious helplessness and disdain. She hadn’t expected her sister to develop all of them.

Chi Yu couldn’t help but let out a self-mocking laugh. After the laugh, she felt even sadder… If she had known she was going to lose her beloved sister, she would have given her enough patience then. Without her sister needing to nag, she would have video-called her on time and shared every thought about her life in a foreign land. Unfortunately, there is no “I should have known” in life. By the time you know, you’ve already lost.

Chi Yu endured it and didn’t cry. She was sick of crying; she hated tears and she hated weakness. She had to rally her spirits; there were many things she needed to do.

As she focused, she quickly noticed something strange. There were no photos of Ran Jin in the album.

Chi Yu immediately recalled: Ran Jin usually took the photos for them, but Chi Yu had personally taken photos of Ran Jin and her sister. She quickly flipped back to a set of photos taken during a trip to Mount Fuji two years ago with her sister and Ran Jin. She clearly remembered that when they arrived, they caught a rare glimpse of the “Lenticular Cloud Fuji,” which was very beautiful—a symbol of luck. Chi Yu had excitedly pulled them together for photos.

They had taken photos of each other in pairs, as well as solo shots, and Chi Yu had even used a selfie stick to capture a shot of the three with Mount Fuji. She couldn’t be mistaken; Ran Jin definitely had photos with her sister, and not just from the Mount Fuji trip.

Chi Yu flipped through again, even pulling photos out one by one to check; there were no layers underneath.

Where are the photos of Ran Jin?

In this family album that was neatly arranged chronologically and meticulously maintained, there was no place for Ran Jin. Chi Yu frowned. Had Ran Jin taken them? If photos were pulled out, it would leave uneven gaps, but this album had none. Or had it been reorganized?

Chi Yu’s suspicious gaze turned toward this bedroom she rarely entered. It was a bit strange. she frowned; what exactly was wrong?

Right… Ran Jin had brought her coat and clutch up, but she didn’t see them now.

Chi Yu put the album back and walked around the bedroom; they were really not there. Logically, the coat should be on a hanger and the clutch on the nightstand, yet she found neither.

A bizarre feeling pushed her forward. Ahead was the bathroom, lit up and filled with the sound of water. To her left was the walk-in closet.

This closet was huge, almost the size of a bedroom. That wasn’t strange. What was strange was that Chi Yu noticed a sliver of light coming from the bottom of one wall. Driven by a strange impulse, Chi Yu stepped forward and pushed the wall.

It actually gave way.

Chi Yu’s heart suddenly accelerated. She never knew that her sister’s walk-in closet contained a small storage room.

Wait… There was a simple single bed here, and a small wardrobe. Ran Jin’s clutch was sitting right next to the pillow.

Chi Yu couldn’t understand; a chill ran down her spine. She opened the old, narrow wardrobe. Inside, besides a few familiar coats and pajamas, hung the coat Ran Jin had worn today.

What does this mean?

Chi Yu was utterly bewildered. Why were Ran Jin’s things in a place like this?

The reason Chi Yu thought this was a storage room at first glance—besides it being cramped and dim—was that it didn’t even have a window.

But… Chi Yu accidentally kicked a box under the bed. She dragged it out and saw a thin, small photo album. The photos inside were pitifully few, all of them shots of Chi Yu and her sister together.

There were no photos of Ran Jin herself.

The small album was finished quickly. On the last page, Chi Yu saw the only solo photo. She recognized the eighteen-year-old version of herself in the picture.

After a sudden sound of hurried footsteps, the door behind her was pushed open.

“What are you doing here?” Ran Jin’s hair was still dripping, wrapped only in a bath towel, her expression unable to hide her panic.