After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Menstruation

The blood a woman sheds is not something “dirty.”

Mingzhu was dumbstruck.

It was actually Lu Zi.

Lu Zi had actually sent her a message?

Had Lu Zi contacted Rong Zhao yet? Lu Zi said she had “just heard” about Mingzhu’s family troubles—did she know that Mingzhu and Rong Zhao were already married?

“Mingzhu.”

Rong Zhao’s voice drifted over from the dining room. “Come and eat breakfast.”

Mingzhu quickly silenced her phone and went over. She ate, but her mind was uncontrollably wandering.

Rong Zhao tapped her fingers on the table.

Mingzhu looked up. “Hmm? Did you say something?”

Rong Zhao raised an eyebrow. “Is something on your mind?”

Mingzhu: “…”

She made up an excuse. “I was thinking about what you told me last night—the project about domestic tourist towns.”

Rong Zhao handed Mingzhu a napkin to wipe a drop of porridge from the corner of her mouth. “People should be contacting your father’s company regarding investments within the next couple of days. You don’t need to worry so much; just relax.”

Mingzhu: “Huh?”

She connected the dots almost instantly. The night they had the pajama party, Rong Zhao had gone out. Then, at the grandparents’ farm, Grandma suddenly sent Rong Li to Africa. And yesterday, all those luxury brands sent gifts.

Had Rong Zhao gone to see Grandma that night? Had she calculated exactly how the wind would change?

“Why didn’t you tell me last night!” Mingzhu was both delighted and annoyed.

Rong Zhao: “Finish your food. No laughing.”

Mingzhu couldn’t help but grin anyway. She stood up, wanting to give Rong Zhao a big hug. But suddenly, she felt a dull ache in her lower abdomen. She gripped her chopsticks, her body freezing as her brow furrowed slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

Mingzhu was about to say “nothing,” but then she felt a warm rush. She stood up in a mild panic. “My period.”

It had been about forty days since her last one, just before she returned to China. Mingzhu looked back at her pants and the chair.

Rong Zhao said gently, “It’s fine. Go upstairs and change.”

Mingzhu felt a heavy, uncomfortable dragging sensation in her belly. She rubbed her stomach as she headed upstairs.

Rong Zhao frowned and followed her. “Does your stomach hurt right now?” She remembered that in junior high and high school, Mingzhu never had cramps. Back then, it was Rong Zhao who suffered, and Mingzhu had been the one to carry her to the infirmary.

Mingzhu: “It hurts. It started during my junior year of college for some reason. It got so bad once I almost went to the hospital. I finally understand what you went through back then. Why are you following me? Go back and finish your breakfast.”

Rong Zhao wanted to keep following, but she stopped herself. “The supplies are in the moisture-proof cabinet in the bathroom,” she reminded her softly.

“I know!”

Rong Zhao took two more steps forward and lowered her voice. “Put your underwear in the soak; you don’t need to wash it. Come out and eat first, then take some medicine.”

“…Understood.”

Her underwear and skincare products were all bought by Auntie Guan, and the brands were expensive. She couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. Mingzhu went into the bathroom, found the tampons, and handled everything.

When she walked out, she saw Rong Zhao had brought her unfinished breakfast into the bedroom, setting it on a small round table by the balcony. Next to the tray was a bottle of Ibuprofen.

Mingzhu sat on the sofa with a smile. “Such thorough service.”

Rong Zhao: “You didn’t eat much. Eat a bit more to line your stomach before taking the medicine. Have you seen a doctor? Why the sudden dysmenorrhea?”

Mingzhu shook her head as she sipped her porridge. “I haven’t. What reason could there be? Don’t all girls suffer similarly? Did you actually go to the hospital for it?”

Rong Zhao: “I did. And I’m cured now.”

Mingzhu: “?” You can actually cure cramps?

Rong Zhao took a deep breath, suppressing her worry. “Did Auntie Shao never force you to go to the hospital?”

“She doesn’t know. I didn’t tell her.”

“…Why?”

“When I had a cold abroad, I wouldn’t even video call her so she wouldn’t hear it in my voice. If I’m happy, she’s happy. I didn’t want to worry her.”

“…”

Rong Zhao turned toward the balcony, looking out at the sky to calm her emotions. Mingzhu—always reporting the good news but never the bad. Bright, sunny Mingzhu, who even hid the emotional turmoil of finding out her parents weren’t biological. Mingzhu, who was two years younger than the rest of them.

“Eat,” Rong Zhao said with her back turned. “Wait fifteen minutes after eating to take the pill.”

Mingzhu agreed, then asked, “When did yours come this month? Did it already pass?”

Rong Zhao: “During the days you stayed at the hotel with Jiangjiang.”

Mingzhu nodded, making a mental note. “You haven’t finished your breakfast, have you? Go downstairs and eat, then go to work. I’m fine.”

Mingzhu was trying to shoo her away. Painkillers didn’t work well for her; she usually ended up rolling around in bed for half a day, trying to force herself to sleep through the agony.

Rong Zhao tapped on her phone twice. “I’m not going to work.”

Mingzhu: “?”

Rong Zhao made up an excuse. “If you’re home alone with cramps, Auntie Guan might let it slip to the elders.”

Mingzhu: “…Actually, I’m okay. It won’t hurt after the medicine.”

Rong Zhao was non-negotiable. “I’m staying here with you. Once your period is over, I’m taking you to the hospital for a check-up to see if it’s primary or secondary dysmenorrhea.”

“…What’s the difference?”

“Just eat.”

Mingzhu was twisting like a pretzel on the bed.

Rong Zhao stayed by her side, putting heat patches on her stomach and lower back. She coaxed Mingzhu into drinking ginger and red date tea, gently massaged her abdomen, and helped her practice rhythmic abdominal breathing.

Trying to distract herself, Mingzhu whispered, “That time in 10th grade when you had cramps and I took you to the infirmary—do you remember?”

She remembered it vividly. Rong Zhao was in Class 1 and she was in Class 2. During self-study, He Chan had called out that Rong Zhao had fainted. Rong Zhao didn’t like being touched back then, but Mingzhu had somehow found the strength to hoist Rong Zhao onto her back and run all the way to the clinic.

When Rong Zhao woke up, pale and weak, she had whispered “thank you.” Mingzhu hadn’t known how to feel; she just figured that if it had been He Chan who carried her, Rong Zhao wouldn’t have been so formal. She had gotten annoyed, barked an “unnecessary” at her, glared, and walked out.

“I remember,” Rong Zhao said.

Mingzhu gave a weak laugh. “You’re taking care of me now—I guess you’re finally paying me back.”

Rong Zhao: “You glared at me.”

“…”

Rong Zhao looked down at her. “Do you remember why you glared at me?”

Mingzhu remembered perfectly well but refused to admit it. She nuzzled into Rong Zhao’s arms. “I didn’t. Why would I glare at you? Don’t spread rumors.”

Rong Zhao remembered it differently. That incident happened right after she had come out in high school. At the time, she was certain Mingzhu hated her and hated physical contact with her. And yet, Mingzhu always loved linking arms with Lu Zi. Did Mingzhu think Lu Zi was straight, or did Mingzhu just subconsciously prefer her?

Mingzhu drifted in and out of sleep. When she slept, she instinctively curled into Rong Zhao. When she woke and tossed in pain, she always ended up back in Rong Zhao’s arms. Strangely, being tucked against Rong Zhao and hearing her steady breathing made her feel a little better.

After three hours, Mingzhu woke up. Her stomach was empty and she was starving, but the pain made her want to eat nothing. Rong Zhao nudged her to go change her supplies. Mingzhu stood up, but as she stepped into the bathroom, she realized something was off. She peeked back out. “Rong Zhao, where are my clothes?”

There was a wall-mounted washing machine in the bathroom, but the pants and underwear she had taken off this morning were gone.

Rong Zhao brought up lunch. “I washed them by hand. They’re hanging in the laundry room. Come and eat.”

Mingzhu’s head buzzed. Rong Zhao washed my underwear??

Rong Zhao acted completely unfazed. “The blood a woman sheds isn’t something dirty. It’s no different from blood from a cut on your hand. There’s no need to avoid it. Come here.”

Mingzhu’s heart softened. Perhaps only another woman could truly understand that. She walked over and hugged Rong Zhao’s waist. “Rongrong, you’re so good.”

Rong Zhao’s lips curved slightly as she patted Mingzhu’s hand. “Eat lunch.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Be good. Eat a little, or you’ll feel worse.”

“I don’t want to…”

“Bai Mingzhu. Eat.”

“…” Mingzhu pouted and obeyed.

By evening, Mingzhu felt much better. Most of the sharp pain was gone, leaving only a dull backache. Rong Zhao took her for a slow walk in the garden to help with pelvic circulation.

A twilight breeze blew, but it wasn’t cold. Mingzhu, wrapped in a coat, leaned on Rong Zhao. They walked past the cherry blossom trees, which were now sprouting fresh green and reddish leaves. Looking at the trees, Mingzhu fell into a daze.

She hadn’t lost her mind during the pain; she remembered she hadn’t replied to Lu Zi’s message. If she and Rong Zhao were in a fake marriage, and if Lu Zi returned to China single, and if Lu Zi and Rong Zhao still liked each other… then she was the extra person.

Rong Zhao had taken her in, given her money, drones, watches, and a shoulder to lean on. She had watched the moon with her and cared for her during her period.

Rong Zhao was so good; she should help her find happiness. Even though it hurt to think about a divorce—to let go of the “Mrs. Rong” life—she couldn’t be selfish. Her parents had raised her well, perhaps too well, because the thought of it made her sad.

Yet, she imagined Rong Zhao no longer being cold, but blushing and smiling because of a lover’s response. She imagined Rong Zhao waking up every morning happy. Mingzhu’s nose felt a bit prickly, but she forced a smile for Rong Zhao’s sake.

“What are you thinking about?” Rong Zhao asked.

Mingzhu looked at her. Rong Zhao was wearing an embroidered white shirt, her dark hair held up by a phoenix hairpin. She wore her wedding ring and a jade bracelet. Under the moon, she looked elegant, pure, and beautiful.