After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Under the Moon

“I have a gift for you.”

The vast sea stretched endlessly. The pale blue sky gradually lowered into a dusky gray as the yacht dropped anchor in the middle of the ocean, lighting up with a shimmering glow.

The dining area was filled with fragrance. A chef was preparing seafood teppanyaki for the two ladies. Languid blues music flowed melodiously, accompanied by the rhythm of the waves as the yacht swayed gently in sync with the tide.

A sea breeze drifted through the window, blowing back Mingzhu’s red hair and revealing her flushed face as she ate and drank.

“This is delicious,” Mingzhu said, looking up at the chef, Sunny, after tasting a freshly grilled garlic oyster. “This looks simple, but controlling the heat is actually very difficult. Every chef makes it taste different, and yours is the best.”

Sunny smiled. “I am honored.” She divided the seared foie gras onto two plates and placed them before her distinguished guests. “I am glad the Madam finds it to her liking.”

Mingzhu drizzled red wine over the foie gras. “It’s wonderful. Rongrong, do you like it? Oh, wait, you don’t eat garlic.” She reached over and moved the small plate of garlic oysters from in front of Rong Zhao to her own side. “I’ll eat yours for you.”

Rong Zhao: “…How did you know I don’t eat garlic?”

Rong Zhao was sitting back while Mingzhu leaned forward. Mingzhu turned her head and said, “He-He told me. She mentioned it back in junior high.” She tapped her ear. “She told me so many things about you; I remember them all. I have a photographic memory for ears.”

Rong Zhao nodded and sipped her red wine. As the rim of the glass touched her lips, a smile curved at the corners of her mouth.

Mingzhu instructed the chef, “Could you please prepare two different sets? I like garlic and spicy food, but she doesn’t. She prefers things light and clean.”

Sunny: “Yes, Madam.”

Rong Zhao set down her glass. She looked toward the white waves outside the window, then inadvertently let her gaze rest on Mingzhu’s glowing profile. The smile in Rong Zhao’s eyes deepened.

Mingzhu suddenly turned around. Rong Zhao caught herself and withdrew the smile just in time, casually pulling up the blanket to cover the back of Mingzhu’s neck. “The wind gets in easily; you’ll catch a cold.”

Mingzhu: “Oh.”

Mingzhu loved everything; she had no dietary restrictions except for fatty meat. She ate with gusto, clinking glasses with both Rong Zhao and Sunny. She even invited the yacht staff to eat, asking how many years they had been chefs or sailors, where they studied, and if they needed certifications. Her mouth never stopped—either she was eating or she was talking, making the staff laugh and laughing along with them.

Mingzhu leaned into Rong Zhao’s embrace while laughing. From an angle Mingzhu couldn’t see, Rong Zhao wore a tender smile, watching her affectionately.

After eating their fill, Mingzhu suggested going to the deck to look at the moon. Rong Zhao accompanied her.

The moment they reached the deck and saw the moon, Mingzhu let out a gasp of surprise. “The moon is so round today!” She turned to call back to Rong Zhao, who was trailing behind. “Rong Zhao, look!”

Rong Zhao walked up and followed Mingzhu’s finger. The bright moon hung in the sky, round as a silver plate, full and brilliant.

“Today is the sixteenth of the lunar month,” Rong Zhao said, pretending to check her phone.

“What a coincidence!” Mingzhu said excitedly. “The saying goes ‘the moon of the fifteenth is at its roundest on the sixteenth.’ It’s perfect.”

Rong Zhao: “Yes, what a coincidence.”

Mingzhu laughed happily. “My luck is so good.”

Rong Zhao: “Then I’ll bask in your glow. Thank you.”

Mingzhu waved it off with a laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

Rong Zhao turned away to hide a smile.

There was a breeze at night. A row of thick, soft sofa cushions had been spread across the deck benches, and electric heaters were turned on. Mingzhu lay with her head on Rong Zhao’s lap, looking at the moon.

Although the moon was bright enough to make the stars dim, the lack of light pollution at sea allowed the Milky Way and the constellations to remain visible. The deep, dark surroundings fell quiet, leaving only the sound of the surging waves.

“A month goes by quickly,” Mingzhu said, looking up at Rong Zhao’s rounded chin. “When Rong Li comes back from Africa, will he target you even more?”

Rong Zhao looked down and saw the worry in Mingzhu’s eyes.

“I don’t want to think about the future, only the present,” Rong Zhao said with a double meaning.

Mingzhu gave an “Oh” and decided to state her position anyway. “Rong Li only has himself. You have me. It’s two against one. If you need to scheme against him, I’ll help. We share both glory and shame.”

Rong Zhao hadn’t expected Mingzhu to use such a formal, serious phrase as “sharing glory and shame.” She couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Mingzhu stared up at her blankly, and once again, she felt that tingling, itchy sensation in her ears.

“Rong Zhao, you look so beautiful when you laugh,” Mingzhu said. Being a bit tipsy, the words came out before she could think.

The sea breeze blew, making Rong Zhao’s stray hairs and earrings sway gently. Her heart swayed along with them.

Mingzhu realized what she had said and quickly shut her mouth. She scrambled up from Rong Zhao’s lap, busying herself with her hair and blanket. She gave a light cough. “Don’t misunderstand.”

The sea breeze stopped. Rong Zhao’s hair and earrings went still. Her heart followed suit.

Rong Zhao: “Mhm. I won’t.” She repeated it to herself: “Of course I won’t.”

The sound of the waves, which had seemed like pleasant music moments ago, now sounded harsh and abrasive against the dark water. Rong Zhao casually adjusted the blanket for Mingzhu as if nothing had happened, asking naturally, “What have you and Jiangjiang been busy with lately?”

Mingzhu blinked. She hadn’t told Rong Zhao because she didn’t want to trouble her or annoy her. But now that she and Jiangjiang had a clear plan, there was no need to hide it.

Mingzhu sat cross-legged and proudly told Rong Zhao about her plan to film a promotional video for Mount Duya. After finishing, she waited for Rong Zhao to praise her. But aside from the waves, there was only silence.

“You have nothing to say?” The expectation in Mingzhu’s eyes turned into confusion.

Rong Zhao opened her mouth, then hesitated.

Mingzhu’s brow gradually furrowed. She felt that familiar, frustrating feeling of being outdone by Rong Zhao—the same anger she felt when she thought she’d get the top score on a test, only for Rong Zhao to take first place with minimal effort.

“You…” Mingzhu glared at Rong Zhao, anger pooling in her eyes.

Rong Zhao looked at her gently.

Mingzhu suddenly lost all her steam. She wrapped herself in the blanket until she was a ball and started repeatedly bumping her arm and leg against Rong Zhao. “Just say it. Tell me where I’m wrong,” Mingzhu muttered muffledly.

Rong Zhao sighed softly. She placed her palm precisely on Mingzhu’s head and patted it gently. “The reason Mount Duya is failing is that there aren’t enough tourists, the service is lacking, there are language barriers, and labor costs are too high. If these problems existed within the country, they wouldn’t be problems at all.”

Mingzhu was quick on the uptake. She pulled the blanket off and brushed her messy hair. “I know that! But I want to help my dad break even. If he keeps investing in domestic projects, his company will be even more finished. He’s in too much debt to take out loans. And so much money has already been sunk into Mount Duya.”

The depressed look on Mingzhu’s face reflected in Rong Zhao’s amber eyes, making her heart ache. Rong Zhao looked away toward the black sea. After a few seconds, she looked back at Mingzhu. She didn’t want to say it, but she had to remind her: “Sunk costs.”

Mingzhu’s expression froze.

“Sunk costs” meant that when making a decision, one should ignore the costs already paid and focus on the problem itself. Rong Zhao was suggesting she abandon the project to cut her losses.

Rong Zhao: “I know I should be like Jiangjiang and say I support you. I should tell you that you can try anyway and maybe things will work out. But Mingzhu, your second uncle didn’t create a major ‘IP.’ It’s hard to turn a profit in the short term.”

Rong Zhao’s voice was slow and very gentle. “If you don’t want to give up, we can make a five-year plan to tackle each issue one by one. But right now, if you want to help your father your way, you don’t need to invest in a new project. Look for an existing domestic tourist town within your father’s portfolio to promote. I believe in your and Jiangjiang’s creativity; you’ll have much better results there.”

Mingzhu bit her lip, still clearly annoyed, but the fog of worry in her eyes was clearing. It was hard to let go of the money already spent, but Rong Zhao was right—the fundamental issue was that Mount Duya was too far away and too difficult to manage.

Mingzhu hugged her knees and stared into space. She knew Rong Zhao was right. If it had been He-He who pointed this out, she would have been happy and relieved that they hadn’t committed too much yet. But because it was Rong Zhao—and because she made it sound so easy—it hurt.

“Sunk costs” was too rational. She knew Rong Zhao was rational, but it just felt uncomfortable. Is Rong Zhao like this in relationships, too? If a relationship has problems, no matter how much she’s invested, will she just rationally and easily end it without missing what they had?

“I understand. I’ve taken it to heart. Thank you”, Mingzhu said sullenly. “I don’t know why, but I’m still a bit depressed.”

She hunched her shoulders and pouted. Her half-tied hair had come loose from her squirming in the blanket, making her look like a wronged child. She understood the logic, but she just wasn’t happy.

Rong Zhao suddenly stood up.

Mingzhu’s anger flared again. She glared at Rong Zhao’s departing back. She was clearly upset—was Rong Zhao not even going to comfort her? Cold-blooded. Cold as a block of ice! Whoever likes Rong Zhao is doomed. Don’t like her! I need to warn all girls!

However, Rong Zhao didn’t go below deck. She walked to a storage cabinet, bent down, and pulled out a large box. She turned around to see Mingzhu glaring at her—a familiar look that reminded her of the way Mingzhu used to glare at her in high school.

When Rong Zhao looked at her, Mingzhu quickly turned her head away, pretending to fix her hair.

“I have a gift for you.”

Rong Zhao placed the large box in front of Mingzhu. “I know you like the gifts my family gives you, but you feel awkward about accepting them. It makes you happy and conflicted at the same time.”

Mingzhu, still pretending to fix her hair with her back turned, felt her eyes light up.

“So, as a compensation, here is a gift. Want to open it?”

Rong Zhao’s voice suddenly sounded more beautiful than the waves.

Mingzhu’s mood shifted instantly. As she turned around, she couldn’t stop her lips from curling upward. She gave a dry, arrogant “Oh,” while her hands were already reaching out to open the box.

The first box inside was for a wireless microphone. Mingzhu gave Rong Zhao a surprised look and kept digging. The second box was a gimbal stabilizer. Mingzhu’s heart began to race.

Then she pulled out the third box. Mingzhu stopped breathing for several seconds. It was a follow focus system—this specific model cost nearly a hundred thousand! Mingzhu suddenly slammed the large box shut and pressed her arms over it.

Rong Zhao arched an eyebrow.

“I need a moment,” Mingzhu said.

Rong Zhao lowered her gaze to hide a smile.

Mingzhu reopened the box and pulled out the fourth and final package at the bottom. It was a full-frame 4K mirrorless camera with a professional lens—the ultimate camera for filming movies and documentaries!

Rong Zhao understood Mingzhu’s kindness and had guessed she’d want to help her parents. Since Mingzhu was a directing major, she would undoubtedly need filming equipment.

Rong Zhao: “I was planning to have the staff give it to you during the sunrise tomorrow. But since we were talking about your filming plans, I thought I’d give it to you early. I hope these help—”

Before she could finish, Mingzhu suddenly lunged forward, knocking Rong Zhao back onto the sofa cushions. Mingzhu lay on top of her, hugging her tightly.

Rong Zhao’s arms were stiff and spread wide. Above her was the vast night sky, the bright full moon, and the twinkling stars. By her ear was the sound of Mingzhu whimpering like a puppy, and Mingzhu’s soft, fragrant hair was nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

Rong Zhao’s arms gradually softened, and she placed them on Mingzhu’s back, patting her gently. “Are you that moved?”

“I am. So moved. Rong Zhao, how can you be so good?”

Rong Zhao smiled silently.