After Ji Han Zhuo left, Jiang Xizhi sat stiffly in her bedroom all morning, only snapping back to reality when Chen Yi came to deliver lunch.
Jiang Xizhi didn’t stand on ceremony either. She picked up the food and stuffed it into her mouth—there was no need to be hard on her own body. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t go on living just because she encountered a bit of trouble.
Feeling down, she only managed to eat half a bowl before putting down her chopsticks. She sat by the floor-to-ceiling window for about an hour before climbing into bed, pulling the covers over her head, and forcing herself to sleep.
Sleep would make everything better.
This was Jiang Xizhi’s habit. She had always loved sleeping, and whenever she encountered troubles or felt down, she would choose to numb herself with sleep. After waking up, her mood might just lighten.
But this time, Jiang Xizhi’s sleep didn’t go as she wished.
She dreamed—dreamed of the dark days when Mother Jiang had just left, when she was being bullied. She was still in elementary school back then.
With Mother Jiang gone, her grandfather passed away, and Father Jiang sinking into depression, the changes at home were earth-shattering. Jiang Xizhi’s personality grew withdrawn, and she began to avoid interacting with others, retreating into her own world and shutting herself off.
Someone must have spread the news about her family situation in class. Gradually, rumors spread that she was a jinx, that she had brought misfortune to her grandfather, that her mother had abandoned her, and that she was an unwanted child.
As a child, Jiang Xizhi was cute and well-behaved, especially with her big, watery eyes that made her particularly endearing. She was the well-behaved child praised by teachers and parents, which had already stirred jealousy among many of her peers. Now, with the rumors spreading, everyone wanted to take a jab at her.
People always bully the weak and fear the strong, and children were no exception. Those kids would corner her, hurling verbal abuse and pointing at her nose, shouting, “You’re a jinx! You brought misfortune to your grandfather, and now your mother doesn’t want you either. No one likes you now.”
“Crying won’t help—you’re just a motherless wild child…”
“An unwanted wild child…”
“…”
Faced with their slander, Jiang Xizhi lacked the courage to fight back. She could only curl up in the corner, silently shedding tears.
Her weakness only emboldened the bullies, who even began to lay hands on her, kicking and punching her…
So during those days, being maliciously cursed at was the least of her worries—returning home with injuries became a regular occurrence.
She didn’t dare tell her father, because he was suffering even more than she was.
But with so many injuries, it was impossible to keep them hidden forever. When Father Jiang discovered the bruises on Jiang Xizhi’s arms and legs, his eyes reddened with anger, and he covered his face, sobbing in anguish.
“It’s my fault. I’ve failed you. My Zhizhi shouldn’t have to suffer like this…”
Father Jiang applied medicine to Jiang Xizhi’s wounds and coaxed her to sleep. That very night, he grabbed a stick and stormed to her homeroom teacher’s house, his eyes bloodshot as he demanded answers, causing quite a scene.
The homeroom teacher had always liked Jiang Xizhi but never expected such a thing to happen. The next day, she identified the children who had bullied Jiang Xizhi and presented Father Jiang with two options: settle privately or publicly.
Father Jiang never backed down when it came to his daughter. He resolutely chose to settle the matter publicly, demanding apologies and expulsions for those children. In the end, he also transferred Jiang Xizhi to another school. Perhaps because of what Jiang Xizhi had endured, the previously despondent Father Jiang found new resolve. He reopened the breakfast shop, made sure to pick up and drop off Jiang Xizhi from school on time every day, and took meticulous care of her in every way.
When Jiang Xizhi woke up, her mind was still foggy. Her face was wet, and when she reached up to wipe it, she realized it was tears.
After drying her tears, she pushed back the covers and got out of bed. She pulled open the tightly drawn curtains and sat on the carpet in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, quietly reminiscing about the past.
Even after all these years, she could still dream about her childhood—the resolute figure of her mother leaving and the sight of her father with red-rimmed eyes remained vividly imprinted in her mind.
Looking back carefully, her childhood was a mix of joy and sorrow—happy in the early years, tragic in the later ones.
Yet, her feelings toward Mother Jiang were complicated.
Before Mother Jiang passed away, Jiang Xizhi secretly visited her once behind Father Jiang’s back. That year, she was only sixteen.
In her memory, Mother Jiang had always been elegant and refined, speaking softly and gently, with every smile and frown exuding grace. Much of Jiang Xizhi’s good looks were inherited from her mother.
When she was young, many friends envied her for having such a gentle and beautiful mother. Mother Jiang would buy her pretty little dresses and tie her hair into the loveliest braids, and Jiang Xizhi adored her.
But the woman she remembered was worlds apart from the frail figure now lying on a grimy hospital bed. Cancer had ravaged her beyond recognition—her face pale, her eyes vacant, lying motionless on the bed, mumbling something under her breath.
Jiang Xizhi knew she was calling her name. She also said she regretted everything, that the people she had wronged most in her life were her and Father Jiang. But what use were those words now?
Jiang Xizhi didn’t approach. Instead, she stood silently outside the hospital room for an hour. After Mother Jiang fell asleep, she left all her pocket money on the bedside table.
She had no right to ask Father Jiang to help Mother Jiang. The fact that Father Jiang didn’t hate her was already a blessing.
When Mother Jiang left back then, she took all the family’s savings with her. Grandpa Jiang suffered a heart attack upon hearing the news, and the doctor said he needed surgery, but there wasn’t enough money for it.
Father Jiang ran through the rain to every relative’s house, but the money he managed to borrow was only half of what was needed. Driven to desperation, he turned to the family’s generations-old breakfast shop. Grandpa Jiang had once told him that the breakfast shop was the lifeblood of the Jiang family and must never be touched.
But money could be earned again, while a life lost could never be regained.
Father Jiang sold the breakfast shop overnight, but by the time he had gathered enough money, all he found was Grandpa Jiang’s lifeless body.
Father Jiang’s hair turned almost entirely white overnight. He knelt outside Grandpa Jiang’s hospital room for a full day and night.
His wife gone, his father dead, his family shattered—Jiang Xizhi could understand the depth of his pain.
And how did Father Jiang explain Grandpa’s death to her? He never mentioned Mother Jiang, only saying that Grandpa had passed away from a heart attack, without revealing the reason.
She still remembered the night after Grandpa’s funeral, when Father Jiang said to her in a hoarse voice, “You no longer have a grandpa or a mother, but Dad will always be here for you.”
From then on, he never mentioned Mother Jiang in front of her again. She thought perhaps Father Jiang still held some affection for Mother Jiang in his heart.
Father Jiang kept all of this hidden from her, but in truth, she knew everything about Mother Jiang.
Perhaps she should have grown up the moment Mother Jiang left.
She should have hated Mother Jiang—for abandoning her and Father Jiang, for indirectly causing Grandpa’s death. These were unforgivable sins.
But when she saw her lying on the hospital bed, barely clinging to life, she let go of her resentment.
If even Father Jiang didn’t blame her, what right did she have to do so?
Though her sins were unforgivable, she served as a living example. Mother Jiang’s existence constantly reminded her of the consequences of provoking the wealthy. To her, Mother Jiang offered nothing more than the debt of birth and a cautionary tale.
Thus, in this world, the only person she could trust and who treated her well was Father Jiang.
As for her and Ji Han Zhuo, she had long been aware of the gap between them. She would always be the weaker party. Beyond Mother Jiang’s influence, the experiences of her past life would not allow her to repeat the same mistakes.