Ma Xiulan’s heart ached unbearably. How could she ever not want her daughter? She simply didn’t want her to suffer. But meeting Xu Qingru’s earnest gaze head-on, Ma Xiulan sighed.
“Tomorrow, after we get the divorce certificate with your father, I’ll take you to see an old friend. No matter what, I’ll make sure you get a job.”
It was the best choice. If Qingru weren’t her own flesh and blood, Ma Xiulan would never have summoned the courage to see that person.
“Mom, is this old friend a man or a woman? Were you very close before?” Xu Qingru asked suddenly, catching Ma Xiulan off guard.
Thinking of Dong Jun, Ma Xiulan’s mind drifted back to their shared past. She laughed through tears. “Just… an ordinary friend, that’s all.”
Even so, anyone could tell something was off with her. Fortunately, Xu Qingru soon dropped the subject, letting Ma Xiulan catch her breath—though she couldn’t help but feel there was something strange about her daughter. It seemed ever since they’d discussed which parent each daughter would go with earlier, something had changed.
The next morning, Xu Hui and Xu Qingru went to finalize the divorce. The papers were signed quickly, and they placed the required public notice right away. Then Ma Xiulan and Xu Qingru picked up their two suitcases and left.
“Xiulan, why don’t you stay here for now?” Xu Hui called out, stopping them.
Ma Xiulan remained strangely calm. “Qingru and I will stay at the dormitory. We were husband and wife—take care of yourself.”
Xu Hui nodded solemnly. Behind him stood Xu Yingying, watching Ma Xiulan go without a flicker of reluctance. In fact, Xu Yingying felt nothing but resentment. Ma Xiulan’s heart sank. She’d raised this child and treated her well ever since adopting her, yet the girl showed not a shred of gratitude toward her. Well, perhaps this was for the best, Ma Xiulan told herself. She said nothing more and simply led Xu Qingru away.
Shortly after leaving, Xu Qingru remembered the jade pendant her mother had given her—the one Xu Yingying had borrowed and never returned. Most things she could let slide, but this was her grandmother’s heirloom passed down to her mother; it had to come with her.
“Mom, wait a minute—I forgot something,” she said, turning back.
In her past life, Xu Yingying had kept the pendant and never given it back. This time, since Xu Yingying was going to live the good life, what belonged to her would be returned.
When Xu Qingru reached the gate, she heard voices from inside—Xu Hui and Xu Yingying talking. It was Xu Yingying, sounding breathless with excitement.
“Dad, do you mean we’ll get to see my real mom when we move to the countryside?”
“That’s right,” Xu Hui confirmed. “She’s missed you terribly, Yingying. She’ll be so happy to see how lovely you’ve grown.”
Knock, knock, knock.
Xu Qingru rapped on the door. Both froze and turned, stunned to see her standing there.
“Qingru… did you hear anything just now?” Xu Hui asked tentatively.
She ignored the question and held out her hand to Xu Yingying. “The jade pendant around your neck—it was my grandmother’s. Give it back.”
Xu Yingying instinctively covered the pendant. She didn’t want to.
Xu Hui frowned. “Qingru, it’s just a pendant—can’t you let your sister have it?”
“Dad, I’ve already given you up for her. Isn’t that enough? If she won’t give it back, then I’ll go to the countryside with you, and she can go with Mom. Consider the pendant her welcome gift.”
Xu Yingying’s face twisted in rejection, and Xu Hui looked displeased. Seeing their reluctance, Xu Qingru gave a cold laugh.
“Hand it over.” She didn’t reach for it; she simply held out her hand.
Xu Yingying’s face flushed pale then dark. The pendant was worth a fortune—too valuable to sell now, but once the economy opened up later, it would fetch at least half a million yuan! There was no way she was giving it up.
“Xu Yingying, do you always have to take what’s mine?” Xu Qingru’s question carried layers of meaning.
“Dad,” she said.
Ashamed that his secret might be out, Xu Hui was already flustered. He nudged Xu Yingying. “Give your sister her pendant back.”
Xu Yingying resisted, but with both of them watching, she had no choice. She ripped it from her neck and told herself: I have memories of two lives. I’ll find ways to make money. One day I’ll make Xu Qingru kneel before me. Besides, she’s heading for hardship—who knows how long she’ll hold onto anything anyway?
She thrust the pendant into Xu Qingru’s palm. A sharp tingle shot through Xu Qingru’s hand as she took it. Xu Yingying rubbed her eyes—had she just seen a faint glow around her sister’s hand?
“Qingru, you’ll always be my daughter,” Xu Hui said. “If you ever need anything, come to me.”
Xu Qingru ignored him completely. She knew what he was really like: selfish to the core. In her past life, after years of studying with masters, when they’d recognized her talent, he’d sent Chen Jiashu to steal her research and use it to escape the village… Not to mention how he’d neglected Ma Xiulan, and soon after moving to the countryside, taken up with a local widow.
Back then, Xu Qingru had sensed the woman’s unprovoked hostility but never guessed the truth—that she was his mistress. Now everything clicked: the widow was his lover, and Xu Yingying’s biological mother.
“Dad,” she said, heavy with irony. “Don’t worry about us. Go build your life with your precious daughter.”
She turned and walked away. Xu Hui stared after her, puzzled—this daughter seemed nothing like the one he knew, as if she’d become a stranger.
“Dad, she gave it to me before,” Xu Yingying whined, jolting him from his thoughts. She looked pitiful but felt panicky; every instinct screamed she should have kept that pendant.
Irritated, Xu Hui brushed her off. “It belongs to Qingru.”
She tried to wheedle more, but he’d already turned back into the house, preoccupied.
At the gate, Xu Qingru found Ma Xiulan waiting, suitcases in hand—she’d been standing there long enough to hear everything.
“Mom?” she said, stepping forward.
Ma Xiulan set the cases down, dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, tucked it away, and lifted them again. “You knew, didn’t you, Qingru?”