The Creator's Grace - Chapter 7

Chi Yu’s intimidation worked effectively; it didn’t take long for her uncle and the others to leave dejectedly.

Chi Yu placed Chi Li’s golf club back beside the funerary urn and whispered a soft “I’m sorry” to her sister.

The carefree child who had once been solely buried in her studies had grown up without Ran Jin realizing it. Tasks Ran Jin thought she might struggle with were handled decisively and powerfully—far beyond what Ran Jin had imagined.

Ran Jin spoke first: “Thank you for getting me out of that situation.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. I know you only held back to save them face for my sister’s sake; otherwise, they might not have even made it out the front door.”

Chi Yu’s voice was slightly lighter and more ethereal than Chi Li’s. Since childhood, she had possessed a premature maturity and self-confidence. Whatever she did or said, she had a mind of her own—her words were resonant and full of spirit.

The funeral hall, heavy and oppressive with a scent that stung the nose and throat, seemed to regain a flicker of vibrant life now that it was infused with Chi Yu’s presence.

Looking at Chi Yu’s back, Ran Jin said: “Xiao Yu, I’m leaving.”

The Chi relatives most likely to cause trouble had already done so and left. The remaining chores could be handled by the butler, the servants, and the funeral service team she had hired earlier. Continuing to stay here would only be awkward.

“Where to?” Chi Yu finished arranging the golf club, straightened her posture, and turned to ask.

“To the apartment.”

“The apartment? You don’t live at home?”

Ever since Ran Jin was first brought to the Chi residence six years ago, she had lived in this house. The south bedroom on the second floor was the bedroom she shared with Chi Li.

When Chi Yu still lived at home, she would greet Ran Jin every day upon coming downstairs. The color of the furniture, the arrangement of the potted plants, the style of the tableware… everything carried Ran Jin’s essence. She had long ago merged into one with this home.

No matter what others said or thought—or how they believed a relationship between two women couldn’t be taken seriously—for the six years leading up to her sister’s death, Ran Jin had been the most intimate and trusted person by Chi Li’s side.

To Chi Yu, Ran Jin belonged to the Chi family, and this was her home; there was no doubt about that.

Except…

Chi Yu noted expressionlessly that both her sister and her “sister-in-law” were no longer the same. The home in her memory no longer existed.

Ran Jin’s voice drifted from behind her: “You heard it just now. Your sister and I have already broken up. It wouldn’t be right to stay here and intrude.”

The servant, Auntie Su, brought over two cups of soothing herbal tea. Chi Yu didn’t let Ran Jin leave; she took the tea and sat on the sofa, then looked back at Ran Jin.

Ran Jin knew this was her signal to come sit.

Ran Jin sat down across from her. Chi Yu took a sip of the tea; once her tight, aching throat was soothed by the warmth, she finally felt a bit better.

The wreaths, white banners, and black funeral couplets, combined with the dead silence of the early morning, created an atmosphere as quiet as if they were the only two people left in the world. Whispering in such an environment felt like a secret, illicit rendezvous.

“Did Sister bully you? Was she not good to you?” Chi Yu asked suddenly.

After a brief startle, Ran Jin said: “No.”

“You wanted to leave her and start a new life?”

In the silence, Ran Jin shook her head.

“Then why the breakup?” Chi Yu was a bit puzzled and asked Ran Jin earnestly. “I saw with my own eyes how deep your feelings were. When I came home for New Year’s, you were busy with everything; Auntie Su and the others were there, but you still did it yourself—decorating and cooking. Sister was so happy. Weren’t things fine then?”

Ran Jin held the porcelain cup, hovering it just before her chin. The warm steam rose up, melting her usual coldness into a thin layer of shimmer in her eyes.

Ran Jin said: “That was because you were back.”

Leaning against the back of the sofa, Chi Yu thought she had misheard; her eyes widened slightly.

“She was only that happy because you were back.” Ran Jin realized her answer was ambiguous and quickly corrected herself, pivoting the topic back to Chi Li. “Your sister saved my life; she gave me this life I have. I wouldn’t hold a grudge because of a breakup, and I certainly couldn’t have murdered her.”

From Ran Jin’s response, it was clear she had long ago sensed the suspicion hidden within Chi Yu’s various probes. She didn’t want to beat around the bush anymore and denied being the killer directly.

However, she ultimately didn’t answer Chi Yu’s question; she didn’t say why they broke up. She had skipped over the most important answer.

The sharp Chi Yu had already detected the discordant emotional notes floating in this heavy atmosphere and said tentatively:

“It’s so late, don’t leave. Stay here. Sister would want you to stay a bit longer, too.”

If Ran Jin really were the killer, or an accomplice who indirectly caused her sister’s death, she would definitely not want to linger in the funeral hall out of guilt or some other fear. The longer Ran Jin stayed here, the more likely Chi Yu was to find a flaw in her emotions.

Seeing that Ran Jin didn’t agree immediately but also didn’t seem to resist, Chi Yu softened her voice. Adopting a bit of a younger relative’s coaxing tone, she took Ran Jin’s hand and added: “Just stay to keep me company.”

Chi Yu’s long, slender fingers covered the back of Ran Jin’s hand, nearly enveloping her partially curled fist.

Ran Jin’s gaze fell on those tapered fingers. Chi Yu’s fingertips were different from others; her nails were a glowing pink.

Ran Jin was silent for a moment, then agreed without a fight: “Alright.”

Chi Yu closed her fingers, gripping Ran Jin’s hand tightly. As if afraid she would suddenly change her mind, and yet afraid of startling her, Chi Yu followed her tight grip with a grateful, weary smile: “Thank you, Sister Ran. Besides Sister, you’re the one who spoils me most in this world.”

Chi Yu meant those words sincerely.

If Ran Jin’s attitude toward her sister was respect—an absolute obedience that never said “no”—her attitude toward Chi Yu was the doting a senior has for a junior.

During the time her sister was busiest, Chi Yu was in high school. The international school she attended was surrounded by elites, and she felt immense pressure because she never liked to lose. Every night, her evening self-study ended very late. Chi Li truly didn’t have the time to come get her, and Ran Jin had work to handle as well, but she would always arrange everything in advance to appear punctually at the school gates to pick Chi Yu up.

Even though the distance from the school to their home was only two kilometers, Ran Jin ensured Chi Yu was one hundred percent safe. During that short two-kilometer journey, Chi Yu would chat with Ran Jin about school gossip—the most annoying boys, the girls with the best foreign accents, who her competitors were, and who she didn’t even care about.

When she had energy, she would share snacks with Ran Jin; when she didn’t, she would pillow her head on Ran Jin’s shoulder or lap and take a wonderful nap. Upon waking, she would find Ran Jin’s jacket covering her.

Chi Yu had always believed Ran Jin was good to her out of love for her sister—an “extended” affection. She was so good it felt like she had no temper, contributing everything she had to the two Chi sisters.

Come to think of it, Ran Jin wasn’t without parents. Chi Yu knew Ran Jin’s father had his own enterprise; it was currently in decline and couldn’t compare to the Chi Group, but five years ago, it was one of the leaders in the manufacturing industry. Ran Jin was the only daughter of the Ran family. What event had caused her to leave the Ran family, saved by her sister while her life hung by a thread? Chi Yu didn’t know.

In the beginning, she didn’t even know Ran Jin came from such a wealthy background; she thought she was a homeless orphan. Ever since her sister brought her back and her injuries were healed, she rarely returned to the Ran family and never mentioned her parents. Ran Jin had never put half an ounce of effort into her own family’s business; instead, she devoted her entire heart and soul to the Chi family, giving everything to the two sisters.

Ran Jin’s background was indeed very special. Her sister never mentioned it, and Chi Yu had never asked. Now, wanting to investigate the true cause of her sister’s death, Ran Jin’s background might be the breakthrough.

Chi Yu let Auntie Su and the others go to sleep, saying they didn’t need to stay; she would keep the vigil tonight.

“You flew for over ten hours; your eyes are red and swollen,” Ran Jin told her. “You go sleep. I’ll keep the vigil.”

Chi Yu hadn’t expected Ran Jin to proactively offer to stay in the funeral hall.

“I’m going to take a shower first.”

“Mhm, go ahead,” Ran Jin said. “Your room is very clean; it’s cleaned every day. Your bath towel was washed yesterday, too; you can use it directly.”

Facing a Ran Jin who was still so considerate, Chi Yu felt a twinge of guilt for suspecting her. Although Ran Jin was acting strange in certain details and was clearly hiding something, there was no actual evidence yet to prove she had a direct connection to her sister’s death. Everything was just Chi Yu’s deduction based on a friend’s investigation—it wasn’t set in stone.

After Chi Yu showered, she didn’t go directly to the funeral hall. Instead, she observed Ran Jin through a crack in the door.

Ran Jin was still sitting in the funeral hall, alone. Facing her sister’s portrait, she showed not a hint of guilt or unease. She was even reading a book; the title on the cover read Individual Psychology: Understanding Human Nature (specifically What Life Could Mean to You or Individual Psychology).

Ran Jin flipped through the pages one by one, occasionally flipping back, occasionally focusing on a specific paragraph with her brow slightly furrowed as if in thought. She was indeed reading seriously, fully absorbed.

Chi Yu did not find the guilt or unease she was looking for. Nor did she see any grief or longing.

Over these six years, Chi Yu had seen how Ran Jin was at her sister’s beck and call. Chi Yu once thought her sister was Ran Jin’s life—wherever the sister went, Ran Jin would follow, to the ends of the earth. If her sister was gone, how could Ran Jin survive alone?

Yet now, in front of the portrait of the lover she had been passionately involved with for six years, Ran Jin’s performance was too calm—cold-hearted even.

Chi Yu grew even more confused. Showing neither fear nor care, Ran Jin’s outsider-like behavior left Chi Yu in a fog. It was bizarre, and goosebumps suddenly prickled across her back.