When this thought crossed his mind, young Gu Shichuan felt an indescribable ache in his heart.
Not when he was pushed out of the car by his parents, nor when he trembled in fear at the howling of wolves as he wandered endlessly through the mountains—had he ever felt truly broken.
But at that moment, standing in the house filled with the sound of deep snoring, he knew with utter certainty: he was an unwanted child, one who could be cast aside at will.
Like trash—no one cared, no one paid him any mind.
He could no longer hold back his tears; he sobbed until he could barely catch his breath, as if crying every last drop of it out of his body.
From that day on, he never wept again. Nor did he ever care whether his parents loved him or not.
He already had his answer—and so he had no more expectations.
The sound of Shen Zhaozhao pushing open the door pulled Gu Shichuan back from his thoughts.
She stepped inside, closed the door, gave him a casual nod, flopped onto the bed, and sprawled out boldly.
It was as if the entire bed belonged to her—she didn’t seem to care at all what her “roommate” might think.
After all, they’d already done everything there was to do, seen everything there was to see—what was there to be shy about?
Shen Zhaozhao even gave Gu Shichuan a little smile.
“From now on, we’re roommates. Let’s just be comfortable with each other—otherwise we’ll both be awkward.”
Gu Shichuan watched her quietly.
She certainly seemed comfortable enough.
It looked like he was the only one feeling uneasy.
Once she’d finished speaking, she looked away and gently rubbed her stomach.
Her plan now was simple: eat well, drink well, sleep well, and keep all worries far from her mind. That way she’d stay strong and healthy, ready to meet the little one growing inside her.
Shen Zhaozhao had already begun daydreaming happily about what to name the baby.
Gu Shichuan couldn’t bear to stay in the room any longer. He turned, put on his coat, and headed for the door.
Shen Zhaozhao glanced up.
“If you’ve got time, how about making me a chair?”
Gu Shichuan turned around, but before he could say a word, she’d already laid out exactly what she wanted.
“I want one that rocks, that I can lie back on—one where my feet can tuck all the way up when I’m lying down.”
“Most importantly, it has to be really comfortable! That way I can lie out in the yard in it every day and soak up the sun.”
Gu Shichuan: ……
He hadn’t even agreed yet—and she was already making wishes?
He stared at her, completely speechless. “Fine.”
As soon as Gu Shichuan left, Shen Zhaozhao pulled an orange from her pocket—one that Old Mrs. Sun, their neighbor, had given her on the way back.
Now that she was alone in the room, she intended to make herself as comfortable as she pleased.
Sunlight filtered through the paper windowpanes and fell right across the bed. Shen Zhaozhao basked in its warm glow, squinting contentedly—until the door was suddenly slammed open.
Earlier that day, Wang Yurou had been berated nonstop by Luo Erfen, who’d stormed into the kitchen. Hands on hips like a strict overseer, Luo Erfen yelled and spat orders until Wang Yurou had scrambled to finish cooking three dishes.
Before she could even catch her breath, Luo Erfen dumped a pile of dirty clothes on her, barking that she had ten minutes to wash them—no dawdling.
Wang Yurou scrubbed furiously until her hands were raw and stinging. But the moment she stood up straight, Luo Erfen dragged over a stack of firewood as tall as a wall and ordered her to split every last log.
Wang Yurou felt like she was going to snap.
All this work—all of it falling on her alone? How was she supposed to get through it all, both inside and outside the house?
Why did she have to do everything?
And on top of that—Fu Shixuan had actually carried things for Shen Zhaozhao?!
The more Wang Yurou thought about it, the more she was convinced Shen Zhaozhao was faking her lung illness. She marched over to confront her.
Only to walk in and find her lazing about like this.
Jealousy burned so hot her eyes felt like they might pop out—she was a barrel of gunpowder ready to explode.
“You! What gives you the right to lie there doing nothing at all!”
Her voice cracked, sharp and out of control.
Shen Zhaozhao rolled over, confused, popped a slice of orange into her mouth, and chewed slowly as she looked back at her.
“What? Do you want to catch lung illness too?”
Wang Yurou choked, her face flushing even darker with rage.
Remembering that Fu Shixuan was just in the next room, she clenched her fists, forced herself to take a deep breath, and bit back her anger.
“Shen Zhaozhao—come outside with me.”
Shen Zhaozhao let out a yawn.
“Why should I? Are we close friends or something?”
“I need to talk to you,” Wang Yurou said, grinding her teeth to keep her voice steady.
Shen Zhaozhao blinked, thinking it over.
She had nothing better to do—and she might as well see what fresh trouble Wang Yurou was trying to stir up. If she refused now, Wang Yurou would only find some underhanded way to vent her anger later—and that would be far more of a hassle.
She popped the last few slices of orange into her mouth, chewed slowly, and got to her feet. She followed Wang Yurou out to the empty space behind the house.
The moment they stopped, Wang Yurou spun around as if she could hold it in no longer, glaring at Shen Zhaozhao and spitting venom:
“Have you no shame? You’ve already slept with Gu Shichuan—you’re used goods! And still you scheme and connive to lead Fu Shixuan on, craving a man so far above you!”
“Trash like you doesn’t deserve to climb higher. You’re only fit for someone like Gu Shichuan—rotten through and through! The two of you deserve each other—one cheap, one worthless, a perfect match!”
Shen Zhaozhao narrowed her eyes, but a cold, terrifying smile suddenly curved her lips.
“Who exactly am I leading on? Go on—tell me what I’ve done that counts as ‘leading someone on’?”
“Let me guess—are you talking about Fu Shixuan carrying my luggage for me?”
Wang Yurou let out a sharp huff.
“So you do know how shameless you are!”
“I think it’s you who’s lost all sense of shame!” Shen Zhaozhao leaned in, smiling coolly.
“What exactly are you to him? His wife? His fiancée?”
Wang Yurou puffed out her chest.
“I am Shixuan’s fiancée! He promised me himself he’d marry me!”
Shen Zhaozhao let out a short, dry laugh.
“A promise means nothing unless it’s real. Have you met his parents? Has there been an engagement ceremony?”
“Or let’s start with something simple—has he called his parents to tell them he’s marrying you?”
“Hours have passed since you two supposedly made things official. If he truly meant to marry you, wouldn’t he have called them by now?”
“But what has he been doing? Standing at the door to apologize to me—carrying my bags.”
Wang Yurou’s face drained of color, turning pale then green.
Shen Zhaozhao let out a cold scoff. “And all because he carried a few bags—you call that me leading him on?”
“Or is it that you know deep down your fiancé doesn’t love you at all—he only agreed to marry you out of some sense of duty? You’re terrified this whole arrangement could fall apart at any moment—and that’s why you’re so panicked, isn’t it?”