Chapter 39

Chi Yu went to buy the pork rib soup and was heading back to the ward when she encountered a man and a woman—two police officers—approaching her with a little Asian girl with dark hair and golden skin.

If she were just any Asian girl, Chi Yu wouldn’t have paid much attention, but the child looked only three or four years old and was being escorted by police, which felt somewhat discordant. Chi Yu took a few extra looks at her.

As she looked, a look of shock gradually crept across Chi Yu’s face.

This face…

The police led the little girl to question a nurse, and Chi Yu pricked up her ears to listen to their conversation.

The gist of the talk was that the little girl had taken a bus by herself. The driver had noticed her and asked why she was out alone. The girl said she lived with her mother, but her mother was injured and hospitalized and hadn’t come home, so she wanted to go see her.

The driver, seeing how young the girl was, called the police. After the officers arrived and asked a few questions, they found that despite her age, the girl spoke very clearly and even knew which hospital her mother was in. Consequently, the police drove her over to find her mother.

Chi Yu watched as the nurse led the three of them toward Ran Jin’s ward and immediately followed.

The door to the ward opened; the police stood at the entrance while the nurse and the little girl went inside. Just as Chi Yu reached the door clutching the takeout, she heard the little girl cry out in a clear, crisp voice in Chinese: “Mommy!”

Chi Yu froze.

That was Ran Jin’s private ward, and there was no one inside except Ran Jin.

The reason the girl had caught Chi Yu’s attention was precisely because she looked exactly like her sister did when she was a child. Hearing that “Mommy,” Chi Yu was so startled the takeout nearly slipped from her hands.

She walked to the doorway, her mind failing to process the questions the police were asking her. She saw the little girl leaning over Ran Jin’s legs, immediately bursting into tears upon seeing Ran Jin’s injuries, her large eyes swimming with tears.

Ran Jin didn’t seem to expect her to appear there either. She struggled to lift a hand and gently stroke the girl’s head, and then her gaze met Chi Yu’s—who was standing there, soul-shaken and full of doubt.

Chi Yu spoke with the police for a long time, confirming that Ran Jin’s inability to care for the child was truly an accident, which led to the girl wandering out. The two officers made some notes and finally took their leave for the time being.

When she returned from the hallway to the ward, she saw the little girl, called Nai Nai, sitting on Ran Jin’s bed. Hearing the commotion behind her, the girl looked back warily. Ran Jin was sitting beside her, speaking in a low voice on the phone.

Chi Yu had seen many photos of her sister as a child. Nai Nai looked so much like the sister in those photos that it was as if her sister had aged in reverse, returning to her early childhood.

Nai Nai had beautiful eyes; even from a distance, one could see her thick, long eyelashes. Her large eyes looked as if they could hold all the brilliance of the world, melting into a state of innocence. The corners of her eyes turned upward slightly, just like her sister’s. When she smiled, it was a pure, irresistible cuteness; if she was angry, one immediately felt she had a “keep-away” temper.

Ran Jin sat beside her, speaking quietly on the phone, but her gaze was fixed on Chi Yu. Chi Yu sat on the nearby lounge chair, unable to stop herself from observing the child. Nai Nai, clutching the little fox plushie Chi Yu had bought for Ran Jin, was also watching Chi Yu. She likely also found the person in front of her familiar, perhaps sensing a connection.

“…Yes, she ran here to me. Come and pick her up.” Ran Jin quickly hung up the phone.

“Who is she?” Nai Nai suddenly threw herself into Ran Jin’s arms, hooking her arms around her neck and looking at Chi Yu while she asked.

A child doesn’t know the pain of an injury; her sudden lunge pressed right against Ran Jin’s fractured arm. Ran Jin didn’t make a sound, but Chi Yu noticed. She grabbed the girl by the back of her collar and pulled her away from Ran Jin’s embrace, saying fiercely, “Be careful, you’re pressing on the injury. Sister Ran, you should scold her.”

Nai Nai turned pale with fright as she was lifted into the air.

“Xiao Yu, don’t scare her.” Ran Jin hurriedly told her to put the child down.

Chi Yu held Nai Nai up like a shopping basket and, hearing Ran Jin’s words, slowly set her down. The moment her bottom touched the bed again, Nai Nai scrambled to hide behind Ran Jin, looking like a newborn wolf cub encountering a large leopard—fearful yet defiant, shivering and full of hostility.

“Mommy, who is she?” Nai Nai asked in an even softer voice.

Chi Yu also looked at Ran Jin, waiting for her answer.

Ran Jin: “…”

After a long pause, Ran Jin said to Nai Nai: “She is your Little Auntie, Mommy Chi’s younger sister.”

From the features of Nai Nai’s face, Chi Yu had already guessed the answer. But hearing Ran Jin speak the truth out loud still made her head buzz.

Nai Nai was also surprised: “Eh? Mommy Chi has a sister? I never heard her mention it.”

“Mhm…” Feeling Chi Yu’s burning gaze, Ran Jin didn’t dare look in her direction. She held Nai Nai’s hand and said, “Mommy Chi only has this one sister, and she loves her very much. You must get along with Little Auntie.”

Nai Nai didn’t say yes or no, but when she looked at Chi Yu again, her eyes were filled with even more curiosity.

Chi Yu had Ran Jin drink the pork rib soup. Ran Jin asked Nai Nai if she wanted any, but Nai Nai shook her head, saying, “Little Auntie bought this for Mommy, Mommy should drink it.”

Chi Yu watched from the side.

Because of Nai Nai’s presence, both Ran Jin and Chi Yu shared a tacit understanding. They didn’t continue the overly intimate behavior from before; Chi Yu didn’t feed her, and Ran Jin struggled to drink a few sips herself before feeling full.

“How did you wander out by yourself?” Ran Jin asked Nai Nai.

Nai Nai spoke truthfully: “Mommy suddenly disappeared, and I couldn’t find you anywhere… Later I heard Uncle A-Kuan on the phone and found out Mommy had an accident and was in the hospital. I asked Uncle A-Kuan to bring me to see you, but he kept brushing me off, so I slipped out when he wasn’t looking.”

A-Kuan was one of the butlers who cared for Nai Nai, responsible for her travel and safety. It looks like A-Kuan’s salary for this month will be docked completely, Ran Jin thought.

“How did you know the hospital address?” Ran Jin asked her.

“I’ve known for a long time that Uncle A-Kuan’s phone password is his girlfriend’s birthday; I saw it by sneaking a look at his phone.”

Ran Jin felt a headache coming on. “…You’re getting more capable by the day. I don’t know what to say to you.”

Chi Yu listened to them talk for a while and then took the takeout boxes out to the trash. Standing in the hallway, she felt a sense of absurdity, as if none of this were real. She wondered if she went back into that ward, if the child who had appeared out of thin air would still be there.

Chi Yu bought a can of Coke in the hallway and gulped it down. Feeling a bit more relaxed, she returned to the ward. Pushing the door open gently, she saw that the niece who had appeared from nowhere hadn’t vanished; she had crawled into the covers with Ran Jin.

Perhaps exhausted from running around alone, Nai Nai was now leaning against Ran Jin’s waist, hugging her stomach and sleeping deeply. In her sleep, Nai Nai’s pink little mouth was pushed slightly open by her chubby cheek as she lay on her side. She let out low whimpers in her dreams, her small hand tightly gripping the edge of Ran Jin’s hospital gown, as if afraid that “Mommy” would disappear if she let go.

“She is… my sister’s daughter?” The words were her own, yet the sense of estrangement in them made her skin crawl.

Ran Jin didn’t answer immediately. She carefully slid her fingertip into Nai Nai’s clenched palm, slowly loosening her grip on the gown, and then substituted the little fox plushie for herself, tucking it into the girl’s arms.

Ran Jin looked toward the balcony. Chi Yu understood her meaning and pushed the wheelchair over. She helped Ran Jin sit in it and wheeled her to the balcony, closing the glass door behind them.

“Nai Nai is indeed your sister’s daughter.”

Ran Jin’s straightforward statement made Chi Yu’s grip on the wheelchair tighten.

“Xiao Yu, you must have noticed. she looks almost exactly like your sister did when she was small,” Ran Jin said, looking back at her.

Chi Yu’s expression was stiff. It took a long time for her to voice the doubt in her heart: “…You and Sister, how did you have a child?”

Ran Jin looked at her quietly for a few seconds. Once the surprise faded, her shoulders shook slightly as she let out a laugh.

Chi Yu: “…”

Chi Yu was puzzled: “I’m asking you seriously! Doesn’t she call you Mommy?”

Ran Jin said, “Nai Nai does call me Mommy, but I am not her biological mother. I am only responsible for caring for her. She called me that before; I told her she could just call me Auntie, but she wouldn’t accept it. She’s not even four years old yet and doesn’t understand many things. I plan to talk to her properly when she’s a bit older; for now, she can call me whatever she likes.”

Chi Yu was even more confused: “Then whose child is she? My sister and who?”

Ran Jin’s gaze flickered slightly. “Your sister didn’t tell me that directly. There were many things she wouldn’t explain to me clearly; she would only have me handle them for her. You should know that.”

I know, of course I know.

Before going abroad, while Chi Yu was busy with her studies, she had seen how her sister brought Ran Jin into the Group to work for her. Her sister would often disappear for periods, leaving all affairs for Ran stolen content Jin to manage. She called it “business trips,” but combined with the fact that she had a child abroad, it was clear that her sister had buried many secrets in places Chi Yu couldn’t even imagine.

Once her sister was gone, Ran Jin had to care for the Group and the household. Chi Yu, who had never touched company affairs and had no idea how busy Ran Jin was, would bother her every few days—making her go shopping, attend parent-teacher meetings, or participate in school sports meets for three-legged races. Chi Yu had always known Ran Jin was capable, but no matter how capable, she was human; she only had one pair of hands and legs, and she could get tired.

At the time, Chi Yu only felt that Ran Jin was truly devoted to her sister, willing to do anything for her without a word of complaint. As a younger relative, Chi Yu had no right to say anything.

But how did her sister treat her?

Living in that stifling little room in the master bedroom walk-in closet, with no window, no entertainment, and only a single bed that was hard to stretch out on. If they had no feelings for each other anymore, they could have taken separate rooms. With so many rooms in the Chi house, how could there be no place for Ran Jin?

Yet her sister had made Ran Jin live in an extremely cramped space, treating her like a prisoner. What other reason could there be besides keeping it hidden from others? To keep people from suspecting their relationship, they had to stay in the same bedroom even if they slept in different beds. And because there truly was no relationship, or perhaps because her sister didn’t want Ran Jin near her—or some reason Chi Yu couldn’t even fathom—she made Ran Jin sleep in the walk-in closet partition.

Chi Yu didn’t want to maliciously speculate about the sister who had pampered her endlessly, but the clues were piecing themselves together in her mind, forming a conclusion she had to face.

The evening wind rose. Chi Yu saw the collar of Ran Jin’s hospital gown blow open in the sunset, revealing her pale collarbone. She took off her own jacket and wrapped it around Ran Jin.

“No need, I—”

Before Ran Jin could finish, Chi Yu said, “That child is over three years old. Three years, and my sister never mentioned her to me. Lu Siqiong was right—the closer someone is, the harder it is to notice the small details they’re hiding. Sister did many things beyond my expectations. If it weren’t for her passing away so suddenly, I might never have known for my entire life.”

The wind blew past Ran Jin’s face, catching her dark hair and sending strands unauthorized copy trailing back toward Chi Yu’s slender waist. Standing against the wind, Chi Yu’s silhouette appeared increasingly mature and striking.

She lifted her hands from the wheelchair handles and placed them on Ran Jin’s shoulders. At her touch, Ran Jin’s back instinctively tightened, and she sat up a bit straighter.

“All these years, was Sister good to you?”

The question was unexpected. Chi Yu’s voice came from above Ran Jin’s head, entering her ears and falling into her heart. In an instant, it transformed into a boundless sea, flooding her chest.

Chi Yu’s fingertips trembled slightly as they left Ran Jin’s shoulders and crossed in front of her neck, pulling her into a tight embrace. Warmth quickly enveloped Ran Jin; her body, accustomed to the cold, was nearly melted by the heat.

“Sister Ran…”

Chi Yu’s voice carried a suppressed tremble. She calmed herself several times before pushing back the surging bitterness. For a long time, amidst the conflict of so many emotions, only a few thin words emerged.

“Thank you.”

Ran Jin was nearly drowning in the overwhelming scent of Chi Yu. Because of this embrace, her parched and cracked heart became soft again—she could live on.

“You never have to say thank you to me,” Ran Jin said, struggling to bend her hand and touch the back of Chi Yu’s. “If it weren’t for you… and your sister’s care, I might have become white bones beneath the yellow earth long ago.”

You can take everything of mine for granted.

Like the wind that soothes the earth, like the fallen petals that nourish the soil, my heart will never stop moving toward you.