The fans quickly noticed that Liang Yan had changed the fan club name from “Cool Fans Gathering Spot” to “Wolf Fang Gathering Spot.”
“Yanyan changed our fan name!”
“Hahaha, finally we’re not food anymore!”
“Wolf Fangs, waaah, that’s so cool! starry eyes.jpg”
“It even sounds powerful. Yanyan is so creative!”
“From now on, if anyone dares to bully our Yanyan, we Wolf Fangs will bite them to death!”
“Yes! Bite them! Woof woof woof!”
“Woof woof woof!”
“Uh… you two up there, that’s how dogs bark.”
“………………”
“Wolves go ‘awooo,’ not ‘woof woof.’”
And so the comments turned into a chorus of:
“Awooo~~~”
“Awooo~~~”
“Awooo~~~”
Liang Yan laughed so hard she rolled around on the sofa. “My fans are just too cute!”
Jiang Mu watched her laughing with arms and legs flailing, and shook his head with a helpless smile. “Fans follow their idol—since you’re cute, they’re cute too.”
“Of course.” Liang Yan looked smug. Unlike her, Lu Lincheng was aloof and cold, so his fans acted the same way—arrogant, always carrying themselves like they were superior to everyone else. Back when she was married to him, they despised her, saying she dragged down their idol’s status.
Liang Yan shook her head, telling herself she was already divorced—what was the point of dwelling on useless thoughts? She and Jiang Mu were in good spirits, planning to go out for dinner together. But just as she was changing shoes at the door, her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out. The screen showed a string of unfamiliar numbers.
Jiang Mu leaned over for a glance. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know.” Liang Yan’s eyes flickered. The number didn’t look like a scam call, so she answered. “Hello?”
Jiang Mu leaned casually against the doorway, waiting for her to finish.
But he saw the ease in Liang Yan’s expression slowly tighten into a frown, her face growing grave. The hand gripping the phone clenched harder and harder until her knuckles turned white.
A chill of unease prickled in Jiang Mu’s chest. Just as he was about to ask who was on the other end, Liang Yan suddenly spoke. Her lips trembled as she uttered a word she hadn’t used in years—
“Mom—”
When the call ended, she stood frozen, staring blankly at nothing, her arm slowly dropping to her side with the phone still in hand.
Jiang Mu knew a little about her childhood. Since the day he met her, Liang Yan had always been alone, with no relatives to speak of. Every New Year’s Eve, she spent the night by herself watching the Spring Festival Gala. Hearing her call someone “Mom” left him stunned. He immediately asked, “What happened? Who was that? What did they say?”
Liang Yan turned to him, her eyes pleading. “Come with me to the police station. Please?”
They drove straight to the station.
The moment Liang Yan got out of the car, she ran inside. Jiang Mu hurried after her and finally caught up outside the interrogation room corridor.
In the corner sat a woman in her forties. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, and when her gaze fell on Liang Yan, she leapt to her feet and rushed over.
“My daughter!”
For a moment, Liang Yan’s eyes lit up at the sight of the woman she hadn’t seen in years. But at the sound of those unfamiliar words, her whole body froze, like ice sealing her from head to toe.
The woman grabbed her arm in a death grip, wailing, “Daughter, you have to save your mother!”
“Quiet! Quiet down!” A uniformed officer walked over, startled to see Liang Yan being clung to like that. He paused, then asked, “So you’re Ms. Chen Xueyun’s daughter?”
Liang Yan cast a faint glance at the woman clutching her, then gave a small nod. Her tone was flat. “Yes.”
In the mediation room, the woman’s sharp, sorrowful cries echoed endlessly.
Liang Yan sat numbly in her chair, exhaustion weighing on every limb.
Chen Xueyun sat beside her, skeletal fingers like dried vines digging into her arm. “You must save your brother, you have to—” she sobbed.
Jiang Mu, watching the pitiful display, let out a cold snort.
Back then, after divorcing Liang Yan’s father, Chen Xueyun quickly remarried. Her second husband was a small-time contractor, well-off enough, but he kept Chen Xueyun under a strict thumb. Twice he caught her gambling and nearly beat her to death. After spending two months in the hospital, she reined herself in—for a while. Before long, they had a son together. The boy wasn’t much good in school, dropped out after middle school, and started drifting. Two years ago, Chen Xueyun’s husband died of cancer, leaving his money to her and the boy, Xu Gaofei.
But Chen Xueyun was a gambler, and Xu Gaofei an even worse one. When his father was alive, he kept himself in check, but after his death, he stopped caring. His mother couldn’t control him, and before long, he had gambled away all their money. Then he borrowed from loan sharks. When debt collectors came knocking, he got into a fight and stabbed one of them, piercing their liver and landing them in the hospital. That was why they had ended up at the police station.
From her mother’s rambling account, Liang Yan learned that when she had first gone public with her marriage to Lu Lincheng two years ago, Chen Xueyun and Xu Gaofei had already sought her out. She knew exactly what they wanted, so she gave them money—and told them never to come to her again.
Now, in the mediation room, Chen Xueyun sobbed without pause. “I worked so hard to raise you! You can’t just turn your back on your own mother and brother—”
Liang Yan’s eyes burned red.
Maybe she had raised her.
Once.
From as far back as she could remember, home had been nothing but endless fighting and shouting. It was always the downstairs neighbor, an auntie who pitied her, who slipped a bite of food to little Liang Yan when her hair had turned yellow from hunger.
At seven, she was sent to a sports school. When the time came to pay her living expenses, every phone number her parents had left with the dorm supervisor was disconnected.
Liang Yan could still recall the look the supervisor gave her while holding the landline receiver, urging her for the fees: “Another unwanted child. Is this a sports school or an orphanage?”
Now she looked at Chen Xueyun—her mother—with her tattooed brows and eyeliner that had long since turned bluish, her skin still decently well-kept for her age.
She’d done pretty well for herself, hadn’t she?
Liang Yan gave a bitter little laugh. “How much is it?”
At the question, Chen Xueyun lifted her head, wiped her face, hesitated for a moment. But when her eyes fell on her daughter, grown into such striking beauty, she gritted her teeth and said it anyway:
“Eight million.”
“Eight million?!” Jiang Mu was the first to cry out in shock.
Liang Yan turned to her mother in disbelief.
Seeing their reaction, Chen Xueyun panicked. “I…” She clutched Liang Yan’s hand tightly. “Daughter, I’m your mother!”
Liang Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Eight million—it was absurd. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
At that, Chen Xueyun’s face immediately fell, and she broke into loud sobs again. “How could you not have money?!”
“You celebrities make tens of millions, even hundreds of millions every year! How could you not?!”
“Heavens, how can a daughter turn her back on her own mother and brother, and just watch her brother be thrown into prison?!”
“How did I raise such a heartless, unfilial girl?!”
Hearing those words, Liang Yan felt tears sting her eyes. “I really don’t have that kind of money!”
Yes, the entertainment industry was lucrative—but not for someone like her. Back when she was a D-list nobody, she barely earned a thing. Even after marrying Lu Lincheng and climbing to C-list status, she had few jobs, little exposure, and almost no income. Whatever savings she had left… she had already handed them over two years ago, the last time her mother and brother had come looking for her.
Chen Xueyun wiped her face, then suddenly shoved Liang Yan.
“Weren’t you married to that Lu Lincheng? If you don’t have money, he must!”
The push left Liang Yan cold inside. “I’m divorced from him.”
Their split had been clean. Liang Yan hadn’t taken a single cent. Lu Lincheng had offered—houses, cars, money—but she’d crossed every item off the list herself.
Jiang Mu, seeing her shoved, immediately stepped in front of her, glaring at Chen Xueyun. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“You idiot!” Chen Xueyun, wary of Jiang Mu, could only grit her teeth and direct her fury at Liang Yan. “How did I end up with a daughter like you? Who told you to divorce him? And who are you trying to fool? Even if you’re divorced, you must have gotten a payout. Don’t think you can hide it from me!”
Liang Yan trembled, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug deep into her palms.
But she felt no pain.
Her eyes reddened as she stared at Chen Xueyun. “My divorce is my business. Lu Lincheng’s money isn’t mine. I won’t take a single penny of it.”
Chen Xueyun refused to give up. “What about the house? The car?”
Liang Yan drew in a deep breath, her gaze fixed straight ahead. “They’re all Lu Lincheng’s. Nothing to do with me.”
“And his alimony, hmm? Don’t tell me there’s none!” Chen Xueyun spat, her voice rising to a shriek. “What, you let him use you for two years for free? Are you that cheap? You think I’m stupid?!”
“You won’t give me money? Fine. I’ll go straight to the media. I’ll expose you—Liang Yan, rolling in cash, who abandons her own mother and brother. Let’s see if you can ever show your face again!”
“You think you’ve grown wings now, strutting around all high and mighty? Take a good look in the mirror. That pretty face you live off—that’s all thanks to me!”
Hearing those venomous words spill from her own mother’s mouth, Liang Yan slowly crouched down, curling into herself.
Her heart ached with every beat.
Jiang Mu’s rage boiled over. “Shut up! Have you ever taken care of her? And now you dare come begging for money?”
“And who are you?” Chen Xueyun snapped, hands on her hips. “This is family business. I have every right to discipline my own daughter!”
“You—!” Jiang Mu’s eyes blazed.
“What’s going on here?!” The mediation room door burst open as a police officer walked in.
Chen Xueyun rushed forward, clutching the officer’s uniform, pointing at Liang Yan. “Officer, do something! My daughter’s unfilial—she refuses to help her own mother!”
The officer, clearly used to scenes like this, brushed her hand away. “If that’s the case, you can take it to court.”
Jiang Mu helped Liang Yan to her feet. She felt nothing but a chilling emptiness. She cast one last indifferent glance at Chen Xueyun. “Then go ahead and sue.”
She turned and walked out.
Chen Xueyun hadn’t expected such coldness. Blocked by Jiang Mu from following, she could only stand there gnashing her teeth, shouting after her: “I’ll expose you! I’ll tell the media everything!”
…
Back in the car, silence filled the air.
Liang Yan didn’t say a word. Jiang Mu drove her back to the apartment complex.
He parked, but she didn’t move to get out—just sat there quietly, staring blankly ahead.
“I want to be alone for a while.” Her voice was soft when she finally spoke, as though sensing his gaze, though her eyes still held no focus.
“…Alright.” Jiang Mu looked at her a few more times, then opened the door and stepped out, closing it gently behind him.
He had only walked a few steps when the sound reached him—Liang Yan’s muffled, wrenching sobs breaking into raw, ragged cries.
***