Two days later, Shu Juan received a payment.
Sister Hua called and said, “I know you’re short on money. Your standalone house design sold in a hurry this time, and the usual big buyers are all abroad right now, so it only went for 780,000. You know, in normal times it would fetch at least two or three million.”
Shu Juan said, “The draft was done in a rush. That’s already very good.”
Sister Hua said, “As long as you don’t blame me for underselling it.”
The payment that came in was indeed exactly 780,000.
Shu Juan was a bit surprised and said, “You gave me the full amount?”
Sister Hua said, “This time we’re not doing business—just friends helping each other out.”
The next day, while taking the child for a walk, Shu Juan went to the bank and transferred the money into a fund for the child.
When Shu Juan went for her third follow-up checkup, her condition had worsened—the cancer had metastasized to her lungs.
She came home, utterly exhausted, and shoved a handful of pills into her mouth.
Gu Qianqian appeared at her door, watching her swallow pills by the handful, his little face cold and indifferent.
He spoke up, “You need to pay this month’s living expenses.”
It was Zhou Hui who had told him to come ask for money.
She had started pressing for it two days ago.
Seeing that Shu Juan remained silent, Gu Qianqian said bluntly, “This is my daddy’s house. If you don’t pay up, you can get the hell out of here. My daddy doesn’t have to support you and that bastard child of yours!”
He spoke those venomous words in his childish voice.
The fact that they came so smoothly meant Zhou Hui must have been whispering them in his ear constantly.
Shu Juan finally looked up at him, her eyes filled with a dead, lifeless gloom.
She suddenly smiled at Gu Qianqian.
Shu Juan said, “One day, others will call you a bastard with a mother who gave birth to you but never raised you.”
Hearing this, Gu Qianqian’s face flushed red with anger. He stomped his foot and shouted, “You’re lying! I’ll soon have a new mommy who loves me and dotes on me!”
Shu Juan said, “Let’s hope so.”
She pulled a stack of crisp red banknotes from her bag. Seeing them, Gu Qianqian snatched them away without hesitation and ran out the door.
Chenchen had fallen asleep after his milk, and Shu Juan watched him until dark.
But her mind never rested for a moment.
She had to make plans for his future.
Later, she took the initiative to propose to Gu Hong that they go through with the divorce.
But Zhou Hui privately said to Gu Hong, “Hong, you can’t divorce her.”
She showed him the stolen follow-up report. “Her cancer has recurred. She’s really going to die this time. Too much karma—heaven will take her.”
She narrowed her eyes with a smug, petty triumph. “I was wondering why she suddenly offered to go file for divorce—turns out she knows she doesn’t have long to live.”
Gu Hong said, “Divorcing would be cleaner.”
Zhou Hui’s mind worked fast at moments like this. “She pays living expenses every month—who knows how much money she still has stashed away. If you divorce now, she’ll definitely leave everything to that bastard of hers!”
Gu Hong frowned. He hadn’t thought of that.
Zhou Hui analyzed, “If you don’t divorce, then when she dies, everything she has becomes yours anyway.”
Her eyes gleamed with greed. “Besides, that bastard son of hers looks all fair and tender. You don’t know—back in our hometown, plenty of couples can’t have kids, and they have to spend money to buy a son from outside!”
She lowered her voice and said to Gu Hong, “A son can sell for over a hundred thousand at the high end, and at least tens of thousands at the low end. Once that woman dies, just send the little bastard off to some backwater village in the countryside—that solves one problem and brings in a big chunk of money!”
Gu Hong had initially been eager to divorce as soon as possible, but now he was dragging his feet. Shu Juan knew—he wanted to wait her out until she died, so that everything she owned would legitimately become his.
Shu Juan would never let him have his way, not even as a ghost!
She began working on design drafts frantically—working during the day, working at night.
Sister Hua called her, somewhat angry. “Shu Juan, have you lost your mind? You’re still sick! How can you work around the clock like this?!”
On the other end of the line, Shu Juan was silent for a long time before speaking in a hoarse voice, “Sister Hua, I don’t have time.”