Chapter 19: What Kind of Intentions Does An Have?
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Just as De Ling was about to refuse, Shen Xiucheng stepped out of the elevator and came to stand beside them.
He glanced at Wang Siyang, then asked De Ling, “Do you need me to call the police?”
“No, it’s fine. We know each other.” As she spoke, De Ling took the opportunity to pull her wrist free from Wang Siyang’s grasp and instinctively moved a little farther away. “You should go.”
Wang Siyang echoed her. “This is between De Ling and me. You should go.”
“I was telling you to leave.”
Wang Siyang froze for a moment before understanding. He reached for De Ling. “De Ling…”
She dodged him and moved to Shen Xiucheng’s side. “I’m very tired tonight. Can we not talk anymore?”
Only then did Wang Siyang reluctantly step into the elevator.
When the elevator doors closed, De Ling finally relaxed and let out a nearly inaudible sigh.
“Go back and get some rest. I’ll wait until you’re inside,” Shen Xiucheng said gently. “Sleep well.”
De Ling remembered the coat he had left with her the last time he took her to the hospital. She said, “The coat you lent me last time was sent to the dry cleaner, but I haven’t picked it up yet. I’ll bring it upstairs to you once I have it.”
“I’ve been traveling for work a lot lately and may not be home often. Why don’t we add each other on WeChat? Contact me when you’ve picked it up.”
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Shen Xiucheng spoke so openly that De Ling thought nothing of it. She went back inside, fetched her phone, and added him on WeChat.
After Wang Siyang’s disruption, the noodles were never eaten. By the time De Ling returned to the stove, the noodles in the pot had long since gone soggy and swollen.
She had already lost her appetite from being hungry too long, so she decided not to eat. After tidying up, she finally lay down in bed. As usual, she glanced at her phone. The screen showed a new message, just two brief words:
Good night.
It was from Shen Xiucheng.
De Ling did not reply. She turned off her phone and went to sleep.
After a night of bizarre and inexplicable dreams, De Ling awoke to the sound of her alarm. She washed up, applied heavy makeup to conceal the dark circles beneath her eyes, threw on a shirt and trousers, and left the house.
Lin Shanni had arranged for someone from the club to drive De Ling’s car to the foot of her building early that morning. De Ling went to the office first, only to be intercepted outside the conference room by her boss, Li Xiangming, who kept peppering her with questions about various projects.
De Ling felt as though her head were about to split. When her phone began ringing, she seized the chance to slip away.
The caller was De Ling’s father, Chen Fusheng.
Chen Fusheng was the president of the Haizhou Calligraphy and Painting Association. He had been obscure in his early years, but was later introduced to De Ling’s mother, De Qiuyu.
The De family had once been an eminent household, but by De Qiuyu’s generation, its former glory had long since faded. Even so, to an ordinary man like Chen Fusheng, the De family remained something he could admire from afar but never hope to attain.
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The two married not long after meeting. Chen Fusheng had, in effect, married into the De family, which was why De Ling took her mother’s surname.
De Ling let the phone ring several times before locking her car. Just as she was about to start the engine, it rang again. After hesitating for a few seconds, she answered.
“What is it?”
“Zigui has returned after graduating. Your Aunt Song is holding a small celebration at home for her this weekend. Come home for a while.” Chen Fusheng’s voice was devoid of warmth. De Ling could easily imagine the expression on his face.
What good intentions could that mother and daughter from the Song family possibly have?
De Ling remembered how, just after she graduated from university, Song Chunmei had been frantic to find someone from De Ling’s social circle to marry her off to, so she could use the marriage to shore up her own foundationless, profit-driven network.
If De Ling had not started seeing Ye Hongxiao, Song Chunmei might already have sold her for a handsome price.
De Ling had not returned to the Song family’s home in several years. Since they had suddenly summoned her back, there could hardly be anything good behind it. Without the slightest hesitation, she refused. “I have plans this weekend. I can’t come. Goodbye.”
“I saw the guest list. The director of Ruihe Hospital will be there. Whether you come is up to you!” Chen Fusheng hung up with a sharp click before De Ling could respond.