Chapter 39: A Request for Help? Or a Cry for Rescue?

Wen Jianan returned to her apartment and developed a high fever that very night. She suspected the stifling heat radiating from the pavement while waiting for a car outside the Quantum building had taken its toll. Having not fully recovered from a previous cold, her body was still weak, and the recent exhaustion from overwork caused a relapse.

By the time Li Ruoruo returned at midnight, Wen Jianan was lying in bed, her temperature spiking to 39.8 degrees Celsius, drifting in and out of consciousness. Upon learning the situation, Li Ruoruo offered a few disingenuous words of concern before retreating to her own room. She shared the room with Chen Ling; while Chen Ling busied herself caring for Wen Jianan, Li Ruoruo hid away, preoccupied with a phone call.

Wen Jianan’s condition remained severe, and she suffered through the night, unable to rise the next morning. Unable to stand by, Chen Ling insisted that Wen Jianan take the day off, volunteering to take over her hosting duties. Wen Jianan had no choice but to agree. At noon, Chen Ling prepared her some pork rib and yam millet porridge. Once she had eaten, the others headed to Quantum.

If all went as planned, they would be ready to head home once the week’s work was finished, as subsequent tasks could be handled online; it was, indeed, a critical juncture. To be struck down at such a time made Wen Jianan wail silently in her heart. However, after some rest and medication, she began to recover, confident that she would be back to work by the following day.

In the afternoon, while lying in bed reviewing project details, she received a call from a number that was both familiar and strange. As her phone vibrated, she glanced at it casually, only to freeze instantly. The fear and anxiety, long suppressed yet deeply etched into her bones, surged up like a tidal wave, enveloping her completely. It was suffocating, as if denying her any space or opportunity to breathe. The phone rang once, then twice, like a death warrant—demanding she answer. Wen Jianan’s pupils slowly focused and dilated; she realized she had been holding her breath, nearly suffocating. She steadied herself and decided to answer.

The prearranged teahouse was located on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by a tranquil environment. This area was known for high-end dining and catered to a discerning clientele.

As Wen Jianan entered, she was guided by a server dressed in a qipao with her hair styled in a bun, leading her further inside until they stopped at the door of a private room. When the server knocked, it felt as though she were knocking against Wen Jianan’s very heart. The door opened; Wen Jianan took a deep breath, released her tight grip on her handbag strap, and stepped inside.

Seeing only the tea master in the room, Wen Jianan was surprised, but upon reflecting on the person’s typical style and demeanor, it seemed entirely fitting. Wen Jianan sat for a moment, and when she heard footsteps, she almost stood up, but stopped herself upon remembering something.

The door opened again, and a severe, fastidious middle-aged woman walked in. Her attire was neat and pristine, exuding the refined arrogance of an intellectual and the solemnity of someone in a position of power. Her hair was pulled back and pinned up, and her sharp, piercing eyes seemed to see through everything, discouraging any casual intimacy. Seeing Wen Jianan, the woman paused briefly before walking over and sitting down. Despite arriving late, she offered no apology, maintaining the authoritative air of a mistress.

Wen Jianan watched her, maintaining a calm and composed expression.

"You should know why I asked to see you." The middle-aged woman gestured for the server to leave, treating the tea master as if they were invisible, and opened the conversation with a high-handed interrogation.

Wen Jianan’s hands, resting on her lap, were trembling slightly, but she forced herself to remain steady. "If I knew, I wouldn't have come to your invitation, Mrs. Liang."

The middle-aged woman was Liang Yuxiu’s mother. At these words, she sneered, "Three years ago, you voluntarily divorced Ashiu and promised never to step foot in Yancheng again. So, may I ask, what is this? Miss Wen? Are these persistent, entangling games supposed to be amusing?"

"And if you forced me to come here just to ask that, isn't that even more amusing?" Wen Jianan’s voice trembled slightly. She had no desire to see anyone from the Liang family, but Mrs. Liang’s attitude was relentless; if she wanted to see Wen Jianan, she would find a way. Not wanting her to remain an unpredictable threat, Wen Jianan had chosen to come. She had long guessed what Mrs. Liang would say, and the reality played out exactly as expected.

Seemingly surprised by Wen Jianan’s attitude and retort, Mrs. Liang looked her up and down, her gaze returning to its cold, haughty state. "You’ve become sharper-tongued than you were three years ago. But regardless, Yuxiu will never be with you again. He has decided to get engaged to Wen Fei and will marry soon. If you are wise, I suggest you pack your bags and leave Yancheng immediately."

"If you are still thinking of interfering, I guarantee that this time, you will not be able to leave Yancheng as unscathed as you did three years ago."

"Then shouldn't I thank you and your husband for your 'mercy' three years ago, for sparing me and letting me live?"

Wen Jianan found it laughable. Mrs. Liang was a vice-principal at Yancheng University, a position that should command respect, yet she always wore a mask of petty cruelty. Mrs. Liang was cautious and did not follow her lead, instead changing the subject: "Even if you don't care about yourself, shouldn't you consider your parents?"

She seemed to be trying to use both reason and emotion. However, to Wen Jianan, these words carried a different weight.

"I came today to tell you my stance. I have a boyfriend now; we are very happy, and we might get married soon. As for Liang Yuxiu, he is part of my past! Even if he wanted to be with me now, I wouldn't care for it."

"Mrs. Liang, this is the last time I will address you with such courtesy. You had best stop fixating on me. You want your son to be obedient, but I will no longer listen to you. Yancheng does not belong to your family; I come and go as I please, and no one can stop me."

"Also, you had best not think about using my parents to threaten me. If anything happens to them, I will not let the Liang family off easily."

During the first year of her marriage, Wen Jianan had been forced to live with the Liang family. Only in the second year did she and Liang Yuxiu move out, though Mrs. Liang still insisted they return on weekends, threatening to forbid them from moving out otherwise—a demand Liang Yuxiu had to concede to. Consequently, Wen Jianan knew many of the Liang family’s secrets; if Mrs. Liang touched her bottom line, she would not endure it indefinitely.

Having spent all her courage to deliver these harsh words, Wen Jianan didn't even take a sip of tea and rose to leave. Mrs. Liang had always been held in high esteem; when had she ever been treated with such disrespect? Her plump face turned a mottled, liverish color. When she turned to glare at Wen Jianan, she saw Wen Jianan’s footsteps freeze at the door.

Blocking her path was Liang Yuxiu.

Mrs. Liang stood up abruptly, only to see another person standing beside him. It was Cheng He.

Wen Jianan’s face was pale—not because of the two men appearing out of thin air at the door, but because of the emotional toll of the confrontation with Mrs. Liang, which she couldn't help but feel. Her expression caused Liang Yuxiu’s heart to tighten as if pricked by a needle. He had seen this look on her face in his memories, but back then, he had dismissed it, turning a blind eye. Now, he finally seemed to understand: that look was a plea for help, or perhaps... a cry for rescue.