Shu Wan strongly suspected his greatest pleasure was either frightening her or treating her like a Japanese person.
The plane certainly wasn’t coming. When the guard helped stuff the plush toy into the trunk, they could barely get it shut.
Meng Huaijin couldn’t understand why she liked fluffy things so much. His brow stayed furrowed the whole time.
On the drive back, Shu Wan caught a faint smell of alcohol on him again and couldn’t help glancing at him a few times. Hadn’t he been sober when she left? How had he managed to start drinking in just fifteen minutes?
The man had no idea what convoluted thoughts she was privately grumbling over. He asked calmly, “You like dancing?”
Shu Wan nodded. “Mm.”
“What else can you do?”
She didn’t hide it. “I know a little piano and painting, too.”
When she put it that way, it was clear she could do more than just a little. Meng Huaijin knew his eldest sister’s personality well: she was ambitious and capable, and she would never have allowed her daughter to grow up mediocre.
“Do you want to pursue any of that?” he asked.
Shu Wan shook her head. “They’re just hobbies. I’m not applying to an arts program.”
So she was much like the younger girls in his family: she’d studied music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. But the few tricks those girls could manage were nowhere near as polished as Shu Wan’s skills.
Meng Huaijin glanced sideways at her. “Do you want to keep studying?”
Their eyes met, and Shu Wan quickly lowered hers. “School’s about to start. I should focus on my studies.”
The truth was, she didn’t want to spend too much of his money.
Meng Huaijin saw straight through her and said nothing more.
The car stopped outside the apartment building. The guard went to park, leaving Shu Wan to struggle with the enormous plush toy by herself.
Just as she was at a loss, the toy suddenly vanished from her arms, and a suit jacket landed on top of her.
By the time Shu Wan looked up, Meng Huaijin was already striding toward the elevator, gripping the plush toy by its “neck” in one hand.
The man was at least 185 centimeters tall, with an imposing air. In his hand, the huge stuffed toy somehow looked… small and delicate, like an exquisite collectible figurine.
Shu Wan stared for a moment, then hurried after him, clutching his jacket.
As soon as they entered, Meng Huaijin said, “You can’t leave things like this in the common areas.”
“I know. I’ll put it on my bed.” Shu Wan opened her bedroom door for him.
He walked in and tossed the toy onto her fragrant bed, looking puzzled. “What’s it for?”
“Um… I guess I can sleep with it.”
“…”
Meng Huaijin shot her a speechless look, then went into the study as usual to deal with work.
Just like the night before, Shu Wan went to the kitchen, made a bowl of hangover soup, and brought it to him.
He was signing several red-headed documents[1]“Red-headed documents” are official Chinese administrative or Party documents known for red text in the heading or issuing authority. The red heading does not, by itself, mean they are secret. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3733511_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3733511_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. The ink brush gave off a faint scent, and his handwriting swept across the page with vigorous, forceful strokes, as sharp and powerful as his own bearing.
“Uncle, maybe you should drink less from now on.” Shu Wan nudged the bowl closer and worked up the courage to advise him.
Meng Huaijin turned his eyes toward her. Her clear gaze was reflected in his deep, dark eyes. He arched a brow, the sharp lines of his face taking on a faintly amused, almost feral cast. “Now you’re trying to manage me?”
After spending so many days together, Shu Wan was gradually starting to act like herself again. She was still afraid of him, but no longer as timid and careful as before.
She pressed her lips together, standing by her advice. “Just… drink less. Too much is bad for you.”
Meng Huaijin looked at her for several seconds. His eyes were a calm, unruffled sea. His worldly experience and sharpness met her clear, luminous, fawn-like gaze—and it was rather like throwing a punch into cotton.
In the end, he picked up the bowl without changing expression and drank it in one go. Then he dismissed her. “Get some rest.”
Satisfied, Shu Wan took the bowl to the kitchen and washed it. Then she sprawled on the sofa, listening to the sounds coming from the study, and soon fell asleep.
.
The next day, she woke up in bed again.
There was still some warmth in the breakfast on the table, but Meng Huaijin was already gone.
He wasn’t the sort to leave a note or text her to say where he was going. He certainly had no need to report his whereabouts to Shu Wan.
Besides, his position in North City was crucial, and he was bound to have more work than he could handle. Shu Wan didn’t dare call to ask.
She had just finished breakfast when someone knocked at the door.
After checking through the peephole and confirming it was Meng Chuan, Shu Wan opened up.
Meng Chuan was wearing a blue suit even flashier than his Lamborghini. He’d even slicked his hair back into a glossy pompadour, the very picture of a carefree young playboy.
“Uncle Meng Chuan,” Shu Wan greeted him with a smile.
“Xiaoshu[2]“Xiao” means “little” or “younger” and is often placed before a name or surname as a familiar, affectionate form of address. Here it is used for Shu Wan. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3733511_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3733511_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });.” Meng Chuan strode in and dropped onto the sofa. “Hurry up and get ready. I’m taking you to the dance studio.”
“The dance studio?”
“You didn’t know?” Meng Chuan looked confused. “Meng Huaijin didn’t tell you?”
Shu Wan shook her head. They’d chatted a little in the car yesterday, but he hadn’t said he was signing her up for dance classes, let alone taking her to practice.
Even as she rode with Meng Chuan to the studio, the whole thing still felt unreal.
Meng Huaijin had said that the standard of living she’d had in South City would be the same here.
He hadn’t been exaggerating. For a while, Shu Wan went to the dance studio every day. It was in the heart of North City’s central district, and both its facilities and teachers were internationally renowned.
The place where Shu Wan had studied dance in South City hadn’t been bad, but it still couldn’t compare with the capital, North City.
Meng Huaijin had signed her up for the most expensive class and hired the best teacher.
A few days later, a piano appeared in the apartment. It was brand-new, and from its feel and tone, Shu Wan could tell it must have cost a fortune—more than the one she’d used at home.
Shu Wan asked Meng Chuan how Meng Huaijin could afford all this on his monthly salary. Where had the money come from? Surely he hadn’t—
Meng Chuan laughed and lightly tapped her on the head. “What goes on in that little head of yours all day? His salary really wouldn’t even cover his cigarettes. But Meng Huaijin’s the sort who’d have to go home and inherit a fortune worth billions if he ever stopped being a public servant. The Meng family has people in business as well as politics. Didn’t your mother ever tell you?”
Shu Wan shook her head.
Her mother seemed to have been very reluctant to talk about the Meng family. Apart from her younger brother Huaijin, who’d served in the military and then gone into politics, she’d never told Shu Wan anything about the rest of them.
“Anyway,” Meng Chuan continued, “Meng Huaijin could shake a little loose from under his fingernails and still keep you living like a princess.”
Shu Wan had stopped being a princess long ago, and she didn’t want to be one, either. She just felt guilty: the more he gave her, the less she had to offer in return—even though he might not want anything back from her.
“What about her?” she asked, seizing the chance. “There’s a woman who’s both stunning and impressive. I heard people call her Chief Prosecutor Jiang. What’s her relationship with Uncle?”
“Sister Jiang Jie?” Meng Chuan thought for a moment, then gave her an ambiguous answer. “Our families have known each other for generations. We’re pretty closely tied.”
Their families had known each other for generations, and they were closely tied… There was plenty to read into there.
As for Meng Huaijin, though he’d never explicitly said he was moving back into the apartment, aside from work and business trips he was almost always somewhere Shu Wan could see him in the evenings. He’d also laid down a long list of strict rules for her.
For example: she couldn’t enter his room without permission; she couldn’t go to bars; she had to be home by the set time at night; and so on.
Shu Wan strongly suspected he’d never had a rebellious phase. Oh, right—he really hadn’t. He must have been in the military at that age, and had already made a name for himself.
.
Under the man’s endless list of “don’ts,” Shu Wan began her senior year of high school. Since it was her final year, school started a week early.
The school Meng Huaijin had found for her was one of the best in North City. Because of his position, he couldn’t take her to register on the first day, so Meng Chuan drove her instead.
The school held a placement test as soon as classes began, and Shu Wan ranked tenth in her class.
She thought that was pretty good, but when Meng Huaijin saw her score report, his comment was, “I’ve never gotten a score that low.”
Shu Wan: “…”
After that, it became a regular occurrence for a round head to peek around the study door while Meng Huaijin was reviewing documents.
The girl would hold up her workbook and smile brightly. “Uncle, are you free? I don’t understand this problem.”
Nine times out of ten, his explanation ended with her asleep at the desk, completely out of it. Before long, her books and his documents would be mixed together in a jumble.
A few times, when Meng Huaijin was in a meeting and reached for the documents he’d prepared, he found instead a copy of *Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests[3]This is the English title of a widely used Chinese exam-preparation series, commonly called “Wusan.” It collects past college-entrance-exam questions and practice tests. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3733511_1_3').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3733511_1_3', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });* covered in sticky tabs. His subordinates wanted to laugh but didn’t dare.
Thanks to his formidable memory, he delivered the substance of his remarks almost word for word without needing his notes.
Shu Wan wasn’t so lucky. One Monday, she stood under the national flag[4]Many Chinese schools hold flag-raising assemblies, often on Monday mornings, at which students may give speeches to the school. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3733511_1_4').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3733511_1_4', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], }); to give a speech, only to open her papers and find Meng Huaijin’s materials on “Thought Rectification in the Political and Legal Affairs Teams”!
Her mind went completely blank. Facing the whole school, she had no choice but to improvise. She racked her brains, but in the end her speech was still a jumbled mess. She’d embarrassed herself and her class.
“I grabbed the wrong book again today—”
The day before National Day[5]China’s National Day is celebrated on October 1 and begins a major public-holiday period; the timing affects schools, travel, and social plans. jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_3733511_1_5').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_3733511_1_5', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, Meng Huaijin passed the school gate. Seeing that it was almost time for Shu Wan to get out, he pulled over to wait for her.
As he was about to light his second cigarette, he saw a girl in a white school uniform with a black skirt running out of the gate. She wasn’t even there yet, but her voice had already reached his ears.
Shu Wan ran up, panting, and leaned toward the driver’s-side window. “Your documents were in my schoolbag again! I made such a fool of myself this morning!”
Fine beads of sweat dotted her fringe. Her fair cheeks were flushed from running, and flecks of starlight shone in her eyes. She didn’t look as if she’d made much of a fool of herself.
Meng Huaijin had watched her change over the past few months. He could imagine how bright and cheerful she must have been at home before anything happened to the Shu family.
He looked away and tossed the cigarette pack and lighter into the storage compartment. Then he said, without much inflection, “Whose fault is that?”
Shu Wan opened the passenger door and climbed in. She stared at the uniform shirt he was wearing, momentarily distracted. In the afternoon light, its deep blue looked almost black, making him seem all the more upright and commanding.
When she didn’t answer, the man turned his head slightly. Shu Wan snapped out of it, fastened her seat belt, and grinned shamelessly. “Mine, mine. What are we having for dinner?”
Meng Huaijin started the engine and nodded toward the back seat. “I brought you food from the staff canteen. I have something to discuss tonight.”
Shu Wan turned and saw several boxes of food, packed separately. She looked a little disappointed. “It’s the National Day holiday. Can’t I come with you?”
“No.” His refusal was unequivocal. “You can go out with your classmates. As for where you’re not allowed to go, do I need to repeat that?”
Shu Wan shook her head. She heard the unyielding command in his voice: “You must be home before ten.”
References[+]