An Ning was bent over, her spine ramrod straight, clutching a nearly faded piece of clothing tightly in her hand.
Suddenly, tears began to fall.
It was as if a tightly wound nerve had snapped, the pain so sharp that she turned away, covering her mouth.
Muffled sobs escaped through the gaps between her fingers.
In the cramped, dimly lit room, only the faint, broken sounds of weeping could be heard.
It lasted a minute or two before gradually subsiding.
Li Chunfang took two steps into the room, watching An Ning’s trembling shoulders, and tentatively asked, “An Ning… you and Xiao Lu—”
“There’s no chance anymore.” An Ning cut off Li Chunfang’s unfinished sentence without hesitation. When she turned around, her fair face had regained its previous stubborn aloofness.
Only her eyes, red from crying, betrayed her emotions.
Li Chunfang wanted to ask more, but An Ning didn’t give her the chance to continue. Changing the subject, she said, “I’ve paid a small portion of the surgery fees for now, but there’s still more needed. The money I sent you earlier should have allowed you to save up a bit. Bring it to the hospital for payment.”
The total cost was around three hundred thousand, with about two hundred thousand still outstanding.
Li Chunfang was usually frugal, so An Ning estimated she could have saved around fifty or sixty thousand.
That would leave a shortfall of over a hundred thousand, which she would have to figure out herself.
Hearing this, Li Chunfang didn’t move, her expression growing uneasy.
An Ning paused in folding the clothes and turned to look at her. With just one glance, she understood.
Straightening up, she frowned slightly. “You didn’t save any of it, did you?”
Under her accusatory tone, Li Chunfang looked embarrassed and stammered, “It’s not like I spent it on myself. It’s your dad who…”
Before she could finish, An Ning understood—An Tianhua had taken the money to gamble.
An Tianhua had a gambling addiction. For years, he’d clung to the delusion of “betting it all to turn a bicycle into a motorcycle,” fantasizing that one day he’d become a millionaire through gambling.
But even when he died, he remained penniless.
All he left behind were countless debts.
In the past, Li Chunfang would always urge him to stop gambling, but she had no control over him.
Deep down, An Ning knew that Li Chunfang still held onto a sliver of hope for An Tianhua—hope that he would one day wake up and become a good husband.
That was why Li Chunfang, upon discovering her illness, hadn’t sought treatment. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; it was because she couldn’t afford the exorbitant surgery fees.
In a way, ending up without money for treatment was a situation Li Chunfang had brought upon herself.
And when she called An Ning, it wasn’t really to deliver last words.
She just wanted to grasp at the hope that An Ning might still save her.
She wanted to live.
She knew An Ning wouldn’t truly abandon her.
An Ning also knew what Li Chunfang was thinking.
Without another word, An Ning picked up the folded clothes and walked out.
…
Jing Hai was the capital, where everything was developed, and transportation was no exception.
Even in villages clinging like spiderwebs to the corners of towering skyscrapers, no matter how deep or narrow the alleys, as long as they were wide enough for a car to pass through, taxis flowed through them constantly.
Li Chunfang’s health couldn’t withstand the journey of switching between buses and subways, so An Ning hailed a cab to the hospital.
The taxi emerged from the narrow alley, merged into the traffic, and drove onto the broad asphalt road.
As they passed a subway entrance, An Ning glanced outside and caught sight of a familiar figure.
A middle-aged woman had set up a stall at the subway entrance, with various small items spread out on a square blue-and-white checkered cloth.
An Ning recognized her—it was the same woman who had given her an umbrella last night.
After drying the umbrella last night, she had neatly folded it and placed it in her bag, hoping to return it to the woman if she ever saw her again.
She asked the driver to pull over, got out of the car, and went to return the umbrella.
As she approached, she noticed that besides many cartoon transit card holders, the woman’s stall also had several brand-new umbrellas.
“Ma’am, are you selling umbrellas here?”
Hearing the voice, the middle-aged woman sitting on the ground looked up and suddenly seemed to recognize her. “Oh, it’s you, miss.”
An Ning was exceptionally beautiful, with a striking figure and face—especially under last night’s circumstances, the woman couldn’t easily forget her.
An Ning smiled softly, her eyes curving gently. “Ma’am, thank you for lending me the umbrella yesterday. Since you’re in this business, I should pay you for it.”
As she reached for her wallet, the woman quickly waved her hands with a laugh. “No need, miss. That umbrella wasn’t from me—someone bought it and already paid.”
“Someone bought it?” An Ning asked.
“Yes, a handsome young man. He was driving a black car and pulled over beside me. He bought an umbrella and asked me to give it to you.”
The middle-aged woman still seemed delighted recalling the incident. The young man was not only good-looking but also exceptionally generous—the payment for the umbrella and the delivery fee combined amounted to what she usually earned in a week from her stall.
An Ning’s eyes flickered with sudden realization.
Handsome, a man, driving a black car…
Could it be Lu Xiyan?
“Miss, are you and your boyfriend having a little tiff, and neither of you wants to be the first to apologize?”
The woman seemed accustomed to such lover’s quarrels and chuckled warmly. “I think your boyfriend really cares about you. His car was parked over there, watching you for a long time.”
As she spoke, she pointed toward the roadside not far away.
“It’s completely normal for couples to have disagreements, but don’t let pride get in the way. Holding grudges can easily weaken a relationship.” The middle-aged woman offered advice. “Someone as pretty as you—just act a little coquettish, say something sweet, and I’m sure your boyfriend will come running back to you.”
An Ning’s hand, hanging at her side, unconsciously clenched, her pale fingertips digging into her palm without her even noticing the pain.
She lowered her gaze. Yes, in the past, whenever they had a small argument, all it took was a little pouting or a soft word from her, and Lu Xiyan would immediately come over to hold her, nuzzling her neck like an affectionate golden retriever.
But that was four years ago.
Not now.
Now, what right did she have to act spoiled with him?
Besides, he was already engaged.
“Beep—”
The taxi parked by the roadside honked impatiently, snapping An Ning out of her thoughts.
She collected herself and smiled faintly. “Thank you, ma’am, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
The umbrella seller watched her retreating figure, shaking her head in puzzlement.
The young woman’s eyes had reddened—if they weren’t a couple, what were they?
Ex-husband and ex-wife, perhaps?
…
At the hospital, Li Chunfang was settled into a room, and the doctor scheduled her check-up for the afternoon.
An Ning went out to buy some fruit.
In front of a fruit stand, the vendor was enthusiastically promoting his goods. “Fresh tangerines, sweet and delicious!”
Noticing a potential customer, the vendor warmly offered, “Miss, try a tangerine. If it’s not sweet, it’s on the house.”
He handed her half a tangerine, its faint citrus fragrance drifting to her nose.
An Ning stared at the citrus in her hand, the man’s clear and pleasant voice suddenly echoing in her ears.
“Wow, this orange is so sour!”
“That’s not an orange, it’s a lemon.”
“A lemon? Why does it look just like an orange?”
“Lu Xiyan, you can’t tell the difference between oranges and lemons, can you?”
“No way!”
The truth was, he genuinely couldn’t distinguish between them.
As a young master who never wanted for anything, his upbringing had never required him to learn the differences between oranges and lemons, or cilantro and celery.
To be more precise, he never needed to.
The heavy citrus fruit weighed in her palm.
An Ning’s eyes grew sore and moist.
Lu Xiyan, can you tell oranges from lemons now?