Chapter 89: The Call |
Unaware of the conversation taking place in the car between Li Chongming and Li Wanran, An Yuanyao walked with a light step, her head held high as she gazed at the sky that now felt like it belonged to her.
Cars streamed by on the street, and pedestrians bustled on the sidewalks. Pausing, An Yuanyao took a deep breath and raised the red booklet in her hand, blocking the sunlight from her eyes but unable to dim the brightness within her heart.
A smile gradually appeared on her face.
“No doubts this time, right? You big fool...”
Her mind wandered to a certain someone, and before she knew it, her face was already lit up with joy.
Glancing down at her clothes, her smile faded. The more she thought about it, the more dissatisfied she felt.
“I should buy a new outfit,” she muttered. “He likes quiet, understated styles...”
She reached up to touch her hair.
“I should get some treatments, maybe trim it and go for a trendy style.”
“Forget it,” she decided with a smile. “I’ll just go see him first.”
Her pace quickened as she flagged down a taxi.
After giving the driver Liu Changqing’s address, she leaned back in her seat, placing her bag beside her. Resting her head lightly against the window, her eyes took in the view outside, though her thoughts were elsewhere.
She remembered Liu Changqing’s words from that evening—his tone, his expression.
Unconsciously, her hands balled into fists.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
“When I see him, I’m going to pinch him ten times!”
Pausing, she reconsidered.
“Ten is too many... five, then.”
The taxi cruised along steadily when her bag suddenly buzzed with the sound of a ringing phone.
Startled, An Yuanyao reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. Upon seeing the caller ID, her expression turned serious.
The phone kept ringing.
Finally, she answered.
[“Did Li Chongming just call me? So, you’re divorced?”]
“Yes...”
Her response came after a long silence, her voice soft.
On the other end, there was a brief pause before the voice continued.
[“Come home for a visit. Your father wants to see you.”]
“Mom! But I’m...”
[“Come back immediately!”]
“...”
A complicated look flickered across her face before she eventually answered in a low voice.
“I understand...”
Pan Huihui’s study interest group had officially begun.
The venue was a shabby rental property.
Out of the 45 students in her class, 43 had signed up for the summer program, each paying 1,000 yuan—half the usual tuition.
Zhao Xuanwen was among them.
Her little face was full of reluctance as she pulled her English textbook from her backpack and plopped it on the worn-out desk in front of her.
The environment was terrible.
Some of the windows were half-broken, and the ancient ceiling fan made an irritating screeching sound as it turned lazily overhead.
The walls were poorly patched, with no regard for safety.
When Pan Huihui entered the room, the students quickly hid their dissatisfaction, putting on obedient faces.
Her authority over them was partly due to her forceful demeanor.
Walking to the old blackboard, she picked up a piece of chalk and began writing. When she finished, she dusted off her hands and faced the students.
On the board, large characters spelled out: [Exercise Book XX].
“This is an excellent workbook I discovered recently,” she announced. “I recommend everyone get a copy to take home. Once you’ve mastered its contents, you’ll have no trouble with the high school entrance exam. If you’re interested, let me know before you leave today.”
The students responded numbly.
They were used to this routine—every tutoring session included a sales pitch for a new workbook. Many bought the books only to leave them untouched.
Those who refused, however, were subjected to their teacher’s cold glares, and at this age, most of them didn’t dare resist.
After wiping the board clean, Pan Huihui picked up her materials and began the lesson.
As an English teacher, she emphasized rote memorization. While the sessions occasionally touched on other subjects, her teaching in those areas lacked depth.
The class had barely begun when the sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted her.
The only people with keys were her and her husband, who should have been at work.
Glancing at the door, she saw her husband step aside to let several uniformed individuals enter.
The strangers carried cameras and immediately began taking pictures.
Stunned, Pan Huihui stood frozen, unable to speak.
One of the uniformed individuals approached her.
“Ms. Pan, please come with us.”
Downstairs, Liu Changqing leaned against his car, watching as Pan Huihui was escorted out of the building.
He said nothing, merely turning to open the car door and sliding into the driver’s seat.
Glancing at the man beside him, he remarked, “Your method works like a charm.”
“I told you—this was a small matter. No need to call me,” replied Chen Dafu with a chuckle, his eyes fixed on the manuscript in his hands.
“So, you’re saying this old turtle evolves into something this massive?”
“That’s a tortoise.”
“Same thing—they both have shells.”
Chen Dafu’s eyes lit up as he finished reading. He placed the manuscript aside, leaning back in his seat with a grin.
“This is brilliant! Adding a couple of cannons to a turtle makes it look so much cooler!”
Rolling his eyes, Liu Changqing corrected him, “I told you, it’s a tortoise. Don’t confuse the species.”
“Whatever it is, your proposal is intriguing. Handheld consoles are incredibly profitable right now.”
“I thought you went back to inherit your family business. Why are you still interested in these small ventures?”
“Just because I went home doesn’t mean I can’t invest. And I really like your turtle design!”
Clapping Liu Changqing on the shoulder, Chen Dafu continued, “Let’s find a place to sit down and discuss this. I think it’s a winner!”
“Where to?”
Liu Changqing didn’t refuse. He needed funds, and while the game project was off-limits, involving Chen Dafu in the console venture seemed plausible.
After securing his seatbelt, Liu Changqing started his van and drove off.
“How about I treat you this time?”
“Anywhere is fine by me,” Chen Dafu replied.
“Let’s head to that neon-themed restaurant near XXX. They’ve got good food.”
“Neon cuisine? I can’t handle raw stuff.”
“Just ask the chef to cook it. Easy fix!”
As they chatted, the car arrived at their destination.
Chen Dafu exited first, slamming the door shut before glancing around and freezing in place.
He saw two familiar figures: Li Wanran and Li Chongming.
When Liu Changqing parked and joined him, he noticed Chen Dafu’s wide-eyed stare.
“What are you looking at?” Liu Changqing asked, puzzled.
“Your ex-wife,” Chen Dafu replied, nodding toward the pair.
“Hm?”
Following his gaze, Liu Changqing spotted Li Wanran clinging to a man’s arm. Her expression mirrored his—stunned as their eyes met.