Chapter 30

Someone who hadn’t appeared for half a month suddenly shows up in front of you one night and asks, “Does ‘Xie Jinxing’ sound smooth?” The key is, ‘Xie Jinxing’ is his own name, and he is the boss whose place you’ve been freeloading at for a month, eating, drinking, staying, and even taking 100,000 yuan from.
What could be more terrifying than this?
Nothing.
Gu An’an almost immediately sank to her knees. She hurriedly ran down: “Uncle, what are you doing here?”
If not relying on relatives now, then when?
She pitched her voice to a new, high-pitched level, sweeter than any candy the principal had ever had: “I just ordered some crayfish. Uncle, do you want to join?”
Xie Jinxing, having indulged in enough cuteness, slowly got up.
He looked like he was enjoying a rare day off, wearing an ephemeral air of leisure. His eyes, full of unreadable intent, studied her for a long while before he finally let out a short laugh.
“What were you doing at Q University’s lab today?”
His question was so pointed that Gu An’an was momentarily dumbfounded.
She quickly recalled what happened that afternoon, only remembering Su Ruan crying and begging Sister Lily not to expel her from Beijing and pleading for a call to the behind-the-scenes BOSS.
Thinking of this, her gaze toward Xie Jinxing became a bit strange.
“Nothing, I just heard Q University had a kendo event, so I went with friends to see um, the handsome…guy.” She ended up feeling inexplicably guilty. She suddenly remembered that Xie Jinxing had told her not to have a boyfriend. “I just went to check it out! A club activity at a neighboring school, just for fun. What’s wrong?”
Xie Jinxing was amused by her mix of polite deference and casual defiance.
He didn’t criticize her, instead asking kindly, “Nothing. Did you have fun?”
She did have fun. And she even had several photos of attractive guys saved on her phone.
Seeing his good attitude, Gu An’an lost her courage to be cheeky. She obediently said, “Yes, it was fun.”
“Oh, so it was fun for you to scold me?”
Gu An’an: “…”
“Kidney killer? The murderous Xie Jinxing?” His tone was light, like he was asking about today’s weather. He sat cross-legged on the sofa, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. On his right side crouched a panting, sleek golden retriever, looking like a ‘Fu Shenxing’ in the act of dragging someone down for a beating while keeping a saintly smile. “Tell me, when did I ever kill your kidneys?”
Gu An’an: “…”
“Running off to Q University to shout and scream, not causing a scene in Beijing, you’re pretty good at maintaining your image, huh?”
Gu An’an: “…”
“No, Uncle, listen to my explanation. I mean, listen to me justify myself.” She struggled, she had been freaking out and shouting randomly, not really paying attention. Anyone would be scared! Being transported into a nonsensical CEO romance novel, becoming the cannon fodder destined to die, barely surviving a small deviation in the plot, only to suddenly return to the blood incident…
Logically, anyone would be afraid.
She waited alone for the medical report. Upon realizing that the entire school’s health check was part of a romantic plot carefully set up by the male lead, her mind went haywire, and screaming randomly seemed reasonable…right?
She stammered a weak excuse, “I-lost my mind for a moment.”
After saying it, she cracked herself up.
Xie Jinxing leisurely watched her expression crack and raised the corner of his mouth. “Watch fewer dumb TV shows in the future.”
Gu An’an: “…Okay.”
“Don’t ruin my good reputation with disrespect.”
Gu An’an shook her head like a rattle, promising quickly, “I won’t! I won’t anymore!”
“Hm.”
It seemed he had come just to watch her break apart. After lightly teasing her, his mood suddenly improved: “What did you see at the kendo club today? Did you take videos?”
“No.” Gu An’an felt a sense of despair. After the cannon fodder fate, now she experienced intellectual oppression.
She was usually quite smart, she could barely scrape through her finals by cramming…
“Well, I took a few photos.”
Xie Jinxing, likely in a good mood on his day off, casually chatted: “Show me.”
Without hesitation, Gu An’an opened her photo album and clicked on the pictures.
Xie Jinxing had only intended to glance casually, but as soon as the photos opened, there was one of a guy in a tricky half-squatting sword pose.
Long, strong legs, broad shoulders, narrow waist, perfect form. Even though only part of the arm and neck were visible, the photo had an aesthetic similar to a partially covered pipa pose.
Especially a perky butt.
Next photo: leaning back to dodge an attack.
The angle was even more daring, the body bent backward to an absurd degree, swinging the sword backward to attack someone. The motion looked effortless, yet you could tell his waist muscles were strong and resilient. Ignore the curve in the front of his pants from the backward bend…
Xie Jinxing: “…”
He didn’t want to look at the next photo.
Gu An’an: “…”
Neither did she.
Silence filled the night.
Just then, Lin Niaoniao, a hopeless fangirl, suddenly sent a message, jumping to the very top of the screen.
Little Bird Dependable: [Ahhhhhh… An, you really know how to take photos!]
Little Bird Dependable: [Look at that perky butt!]
Little Bird Dependable: [Look at that huge bird!!]
Little Bird Dependable: [I agree to you giving up Lu Xingyu! An, go chase the huge bird handsome guy!!!]
Little Bird Dependable: [Mom allows you to abandon old love and pursue new love! The huge bird handsome guy will make your future super blissful!!!]
In that moment, Gu An’an wanted to die. If possible, she wanted to die right in front of Xie Jinxing. Only death could save her from this soul-crushing humiliation.
Ahhhh… Lin Niaoniao, I will kill you!
If only she had set her WeChat to block pop-up messages… Gu An’an dryly licked her lips: “Uncle, if I told you what you just saw was all a dream, would you believe me?”
Xie Jinxing’s silence was deafening, his eyes sharp as knives.
“I’m from a directing major.”
After a long pause, Xie Jinxing exhaled deeply.
He didn’t ask why she took such daring photos, nor scold a twenty-year-old college student for her foolishness. Instead, in a calm, storm-brewing tone, he asked: “Did you send these photos to anyone else?”
Gu An’an heard the sound of shattering iron bones, her spirit was breaking. “I just shared good things with my best friends.”
Xie Jinxing took a deep breath, closed his eyes: “Make her delete them.”
Gu An’an: “?”
“Delete yours too.”
Gu An’an: “??”
“The person in the photos is me.” He had been busy dealing with Qin Jiashu that afternoon, got irritated, and decided to spar. The kendo club happened to be nearby, and Qin Jiashu borrowed the keys from undergraduates.
After a few rounds, the excited kendo kids swarmed in, wanting to try their luck.
Qin Jiashu, a young and handsome professor popular at Q University, attracted girls from other schools as well. The news somehow escalated into a competition.
Gu An’an: “…”
Gu An’an: “!!!! What???”
…
Xie Jinxing, apparently annoyed by Gu An’an’s photography skills, didn’t eat the crayfish. He personally sent messages to force the girl called Little Bird Dependable to delete the photos, and with a wave of his hand, deleted the originals from Gu An’an’s phone.
Gu An’an didn’t dare to breathe, nor question his authority.
When he finally finished and returned her phone, all she could do was silently admire her uncle’s effortless charm.
Xie Jinxing: “…”
He didn’t even drink a sip of water and left. Whether he left still annoyed, Gu An’an didn’t know. She ate a pound of crayfish and stopped. She went back to her room and slept anxiously.
The next day, she received a message from HR, for violating the boss’s portrait rights, 20,000 yuan was deducted from her salary.
Gu An’an: “…Okay.”
Meanwhile, Su Ruan spent the night agonizing, still unable to make a decision.
Her mother’s life was crucial, and her hard-won love equally important. She always hoped delaying things might bring a turning point. Maybe the benefactor, seeing her struggle, would change their mind and approve her request.
Su Ruan felt a huge weight pressing on her chest, nervously dialing the legal department again.
The phone rang a long time, no answer.
Su Ruan started panicking, had the benefactor, seeing her refusing to sign the contract, decided to withdraw the kidney aid?
Thinking of this, she grew frantic, continuously calling Lily, growing more desperate.
Finally, she couldn’t bear it and switched to texting, asking for a call back.
Suddenly, her phone rang. The caller ID showed a landline from Beijing.
Su Ruan hoped it was the benefactor; she still hadn’t figured out who they were. She cautiously answered.
It wasn’t the benefactor, it was her mother’s hospital. The voice urgently announced a shocking fact: her mother suddenly became critically ill that very early morning. Unable to reach her by email, they had to notify her by landline.
Su Ruan’s blood ran cold from head to toe.
Her bright future hadn’t even begun, and she would not allow her love to vanish just like that. “I’ll agree! I’ll sign now!”
Su Ruan quickly sent a message to Lily. This time, without hesitation, just four words:
[I agree.]
Soon after, Lily called.
Lily explained that if Su Ruan agreed to the surgery terms, she needed to arrive at the school gate café within half an hour.
Su Ruan didn’t even have time for a flawless nude makeup and rushed to the café.
Sure enough, Lily was there, smiling.
Lily took the contract out of her briefcase and said if there were no objections, it could be signed immediately. The contract required withdrawal from school, leaving Beijing within a week, and not returning, otherwise, a 300 million yuan penalty would apply.
Su Ruan’s hand shook holding the pen. Three hundred million? She couldn’t understand why a kidney was so expensive.
“Your mother’s blood type is rare; kidneys are hard to find.”
“But…”
“If you hesitate further, maybe we can talk next time?”
“No, no,” she said, gripping Lily’s arm, tears falling. The neat words of the contract seemed like a monstrous devourer. She placed the pen down with a last desperate struggle, feeling completely consumed.
“…Do I really have to leave Beijing?”
“The contract is written like this.”
“But I was born and raised in Beijing. Our Su family has lived here since my great-grandmother’s generation. This is my home, this is where I grew up. If I leave, I don’t know where to go or how to survive.”
Lily’s brow twitched, but she kept her tone professional: “I’m sorry, any benefit comes at a cost.”
“Sister, I only have one mother.”
Lily put away her smile, not even bothering to reply.
She understood that the young girl in front of her had a tragic life, and indeed sympathized with her helplessness. But life in society requires understanding its rules. Nothing comes from pity alone, and tears will not grant exemptions. The girl wanted financial support but was unwilling to pay the price; such “greed” wouldn’t last long.
Lily remained silent. Su Ruan began crying again, softly and weakly, drawing the attention of everyone in the lobby.
Seeing that Lily had no intention of relenting, she finally, unwillingly, signed.
Three copies were made: one for Su Ruan as her personal copy, the other two taken by Lily.
Watching Su Ruan finally sign, Lily exhaled sharply with relief. This seemingly gentle, harmless, even weak girl was tougher to handle than the seasoned professionals she had encountered in her career.
At least the experienced ones could understand words; the girl did not. Beyond crying, she treated terms and agreements as nothing.
“Then, happy cooperation,” Lily said, standing up. “The BOSS has given you three days to make arrangements, so you can act quickly.”
With that, she left without looking back.
Su Ruan watched her retreating figure, gritting her teeth in frustration.
She pricked at her palm until sharp pain hit her nerves, forcing herself to stop. She thought of calling Zhou Jiayu and Yang Yue while taking a taxi to the hospital, crying all the way.
Both remained silent after hearing her.
They had heard a bit about what happened at Jingchuan. Both came from influential families, and with a little investigation, it was clear that the people behind this were not simple. Although money could solve many things, for an opponent whose depth was unknown, there was no way. After all, the Zhou family’s base was in Shanghai, and they already had an heir, Zhou Jiayu’s older brother.
The Yang family, although in Beijing, also had an heir: Yang Yue’s older brother.
For the youngest sons of big families, mischief was one thing, but recklessly using the family’s wealth wasn’t viable. Big families aren’t convenience stores; randomly giving away things without consequence wouldn’t happen.
Yet Su Ruan cried as if they were her last straw; comfort had to be offered.
“It’s fine, I’ll help you look into it,” Yang Yue said, taking a deep breath, only able to promise Su Ruan.
With their assurance, Su Ruan finally relaxed.
She thought that even if she couldn’t uncover who was orchestrating everything, when she was forced to leave Beijing, they would find a way to get her back. Once her mother’s kidney was replaced, she wouldn’t be constrained by anyone. The contract didn’t allow her to return to Beijing, but if she was involuntarily forced back, it wouldn’t count as violating the terms, right?
With that thought, Su Ruan went to see her mother in the hospital.
Over the past three years, Ms. Su had been wasted away by uremia. She had become almost unrecognizable, with dark, sunken eyes and a dull complexion, looking like a swollen, desiccated corpse. She lay in bed, emitting a strong stench.
The two boys didn’t go in, just stood at the door watching.
Su Ruan approached the bed, awkwardly glancing back at Zhou Jiayu and Yang Yue. Even with a halo helping her, she felt embarrassed for her mother’s condition. She awkwardly asked them to wait outside.
They obliged and helped close the hospital room door.
After a while, Su Ruan changed her mother into clean clothes and cleaned her body, emerging pale and drained.
Feeling ashamed of the lingering odor on herself, she shrank back slightly. The two boys didn’t attempt to hug her, just stood nearby.
Just then, the attending doctor arrived, politely knocking on the door, asking the family to come to the office.
The doctor sympathized with the girl. “There’s something that needs explaining. If convenient, please come with me.”
Su Ruan looked at the boys fearfully. Yang Yue and Zhou Jiayu immediately offered to accompany her.
“It’s inconvenient,” the doctor said formally. “Some matters involve patient privacy and can only be discussed with family members.”
They didn’t insist. Helpless, they watched Su Ruan go alone.
Not sure if it was her imagination, Su Ruan glanced back at Zhou Jiayu, pitiful and hesitant. From their arrival at the hospital until now, he hadn’t hugged her even once.
The system hadn’t alerted her, so Su Ruan attributed his behavior to extreme neatness.
About ten minutes later, Su Ruan emerged from the office, completely drained of color. She cried as she ran to the two boys. Zhou Jiayu casually stepped back. She hesitated, then threw herself into Yang Yue’s arms, asking if he could immediately take her to school.
“Why would you go back to school now?” Yang Yue frowned. “Your aunt is seriously ill; shouldn’t you stay at the hospital?”
“No, I need to go back to school to pack. I’m withdrawing.”
Su Ruan cried as if the sky were falling, utterly devastated. “My mother must have the surgery immediately. Her body cannot wait. I need to prepare quickly and fulfill the contract so they can arrange a kidney for her as soon as possible. We are a special panda blood type; compatible kidneys are extremely rare. If we miss this chance, there might not be another.”
Though both boys were spoiled rich kids, they understood that kidneys of rare blood types were incredibly hard to come by.
Getting this chance was a stroke of luck, they couldn’t afford to delay. But thinking about the other party’s unreasonable demands, they wished they could track down whoever was behind it and give them a piece of their mind, a cold and merciless person.
Su Ruan’s withdrawal shocked the entire school.
The shock was comparable to a top celebrity abruptly announcing retirement. At least within Jingchuan, it caused an uproar. Everyone speculated which second-generation heir she had offended, after so many comebacks, that she finally experienced a setback and lost her protagonist aura.
Posts on forums, campus boards, confession walls, and official campus media exploded with discussions.
Students from other schools climbed over just to watch, wondering why Su Ruan’s withdrawal caused such a storm. Some recalled her previous battles with Shen Shan and her spectacular victories.
Mentioning this campus inspiration girl drew sighs from many.
No matter how talented grassroots individuals were, they still lost to capital. People wondered which wealthy heiress could wield such power this time.
Among the onlookers, Lin Niaoniao and her gossip group were the most brazen. They had even recorded the entire process. Lin Niaoniao had witnessed Su Ruan’s conversation with Lily at Q University’s old campus lab and had first-hand information.
They reconstructed the entire story and reported it in detail, escalating the chaos.
Led by Lin Niaoniao, the gossip group tracked Su Ruan’s conversation with Lily completely, capturing every word. They even managed to uncover news about Su Ruan’s mother’s late-stage uremia. After analyzing this conversation, they drew a strange conclusion:
Although the BOSS behind this was unscrupulous, coercing a poor girl to withdraw for a kidney, Su Ruan’s procrastination in agreeing to the surgery until her mother became critically ill was somewhat cold-blooded.
But this wasn’t just anyone, this was her own mother!
Some people empathized: if it were their mother, and a way to save her life was presented, even if it cost ten years of their own life, they would agree without hesitation.
The future was important, but college wasn’t the only path. Life wouldn’t end simply from dropping out; she could move to another city, repeat a year, and retake the entrance exam. Filling a different university, not in Beijing, would not be a huge loss. Why wait until her mother’s body could no longer bear it to agree?
Some even opposed this line of thinking.
After all, not everyone has the courage to start over, and not every mother loves her child. Some felt that rather than sacrificing themselves for a biased mother, it’s better to let fate take its course.
Others thought Su Ruan was too timid and selfish. Her mother was important, and so was her future. In general, Su Ruan, who was popular in school and had much sympathy, began to face some skepticism.
On the forums, chaos erupted. Gu An’an, after witnessing Su Ruan leave the campus, was simply bewildered.
The heroine left Jingchuan?
The heroine actually took her mother and left Beijing overnight?
The male lead apparently staged a grand scheme just to drive the heroine out of Beijing?!
The plot was truly surreal.
Would she still die at the cruise birthday party later? Without Su Ruan, if she avoided the cruise, she wouldn’t have to die, right?
Puzzled, Gu An’an lay low for a few days and received a message from Shen Shan:
The Heiress Has Arrived: “8 PM, Nightfall, 3rd Floor 609, Celebration of the Plague God’s Disappearance.”
Gu An’an: “……”
She felt something was off. And withdrawing from school isn’t the same as dropping out, you’re celebrating too soon, hey.
Gu An’an was about to refuse when another message quickly followed:
The Heiress Has Arrived: “There will be male models. Come quickly.”
Gu An’an: “Okay!”