After the Bankrupt Heiress Married into a Rich Family - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Cherry

“Take it off.”

Many years ago, on June 1st—it was a weekend.

Little Mingzhu, then in the sixth grade, sat in the backseat of her parents’ car with a Giant White Rabbit plushie nearly as tall as she was draped over her. The doll was so large her small arms could barely encircle it; she could only clutch it awkwardly.

“Mama,” Little Mingzhu struggled to peek her head out from under the rabbit’s face. “What is that older sister’s name?”

Shao Simian was amused by her daughter. She smoothed Mingzhu’s hair and said, “Your hair is all messy. Her name is Mingyue. You can call her Sister Mingyue.” She had spent the morning using a curling iron to give her daughter beautiful waves, and she grew more enamored with the result the more she looked.

Little Mingzhu tried to look at Bai Zhaolin in the driver’s seat. “Papa, is Sister Mingyue your daughter too?”

Bai Zhaolin turned back quickly. “Don’t talk nonsense. That’s just her nickname. She has nothing to do with Papa.”

Little Mingzhu grinned, showing her small white teeth. “Oh.”

Shao Simian looked at her daughter tenderly. Mingzhu was two years younger than her classmates—some were even three years older. She was brilliant, but she could be quite dazed and airy at times.

When they arrived at the Gushu Villa district, Bai Zhaolin carried the rabbit while Shao Simian held Mingzhu’s hand. The couple lectured her on not running off, and the little girl nodded obediently. However, the moment she stepped into the Rong villa and saw a massive toy area, she let go of her mother’s hand and bolted.

It wasn’t until the deep, melodic sound of a piano drifted through the air that Little Mingzhu used her height advantage to squeeze past the crowd of adults. She saw an elegant older sister in a long white dress playing the piano.

Little Mingzhu stared, mesmerized. The sister was beautiful, and the pure white grand piano was magnificent. In a daze, she felt as if white petals were falling from the sky, swirling around the sister and the piano in the light. Little Mingzhu, a lover of all things beautiful, immediately wanted to meet her.

She stared until the piece ended, until the sister greeted the guests, and until the sister went upstairs. Then, she picked up her Giant White Rabbit and followed. She couldn’t see the stairs behind the rabbit, so she grabbed it by the ears and dragged it up the steps, only picking it back up once she reached the landing.

Young Rong Zhao did not like these occasions. To facilitate business, her parents had invited many bosses, ignoring the fact that she preferred quiet solitude—especially on her birthday. She sat on her bedroom floor with a blank expression, unboxing gifts, when she heard a noise.

She looked over coldly. It was a Giant White Rabbit doll, and behind it, she could faintly see the silhouette of a short younger girl in a pink puffy dress and white lace socks. Then, the rabbit and the girl in the pink dress wobbled toward her and tumbled together at her feet.

Young Rong Zhao frowned and pulled back. She was afraid the child would start crying and be very noisy.

But Little Mingzhu didn’t cry. Instead, she laughed at herself. She scrambled up, sat across from Rong Zhao with her legs splayed out, and pushed the rabbit toward her with great familiarity. “Happy birthday, Sister Mingyue! I’m Mingzhu. Happy birthday, wish you a nice day.”

Mingzhu was tiny—she sat in the front row of her class and stood at the front of every line. Raised with innocent love by her parents, her voice was still milky and sweet. A pure smile, naive English, and doll-like wavy hair.

Rong Zhao’s face had been icy, but she felt a strange pull. She accepted the gift and whispered a “thank you.”

Little Mingzhu thought the sister’s voice was lovely—so gentle and easy to get along with. As the bright lozenges of light on the floor shifted with the sun, the chatterbox Mingzhu spoke for a long, long time. She talked about her friends, the things she liked, the patterns on her pencil case… her little mouth never tired. When Rong Zhao handed her a yogurt, Mingzhu was convinced this sister was exactly the gentle person she had imagined.

It wasn’t until Mingzhu remembered her parents were taking her to a themed restaurant that she jumped up, shouted “Sister, I have to go!” and ran off. She left behind a dazed Rong Zhao, whose face had been painted like a “flower cat” after losing a game.

Did the Ming family girl just leave?

Young Rong Zhao stared blankly at the closed door. The shadow of that door blurred in the light, transforming into the confused gaze Mingzhu held now.

The shimmering light of the lake reflected in Ji Yue’s eyes. She laughed for quite a while before stopping to ask Mingzhu, “Did you only tell Rong Zhao your name was Mingzhu? Did you forget to mention your surname? She actually asked her father and me if we could invite ‘Uncle Ming’s’ daughter over to play during the summer, but we didn’t know anyone named Ming. We couldn’t find you.”

Mingzhu froze.

At this moment, He Chan also recalled a small, insignificant detail from their student days. “By the way, the reason Rong Zhao said your skirt was too short was because she heard the boys in your class discussing your legs. I was there; we both heard it. And Rong Zhao would never tattle to your parents—it must have been someone else, right?”

The willow trees by the lake swayed with new green buds, and the wind rippled the water. Ji Yue and He Chan were steady and caught several fish. Mingzhu and Jiangjiang couldn’t sit still and caught nothing, resorting to “scrounging” for food. The chef flipped fresh fish, sprinkling spices over charcoal that sizzled and sent up savory smoke.

Mingzhu chewed on her food while processing what she’d heard. Rong Zhao was such a grump! Just because she didn’t say her last name was Bai and Rong Zhao couldn’t find her for the summer, Rong Zhao pretended not to remember her?

But it turned out it was all a series of misunderstandings. It turned out Rong Zhao did like playing with her. What a waste—they had missed the chance to be best friends. And if it wasn’t Rong Zhao who tattled, who was it? How annoying.

Fortunately, the past is an unchangeable regret, but the future is a destination. If they missed out as kids, so be it. She reconciled with it and looked forward.

As the sun set, Mingzhu took photos, Jiangjiang drew, Ji Yue took pictures, and He Chan packed up. The evening glow enveloped the villa. Headlights swept past spring trees. Mingzhu walked into the living room and saw Rong Zhao sitting there.

She was still in a low-cut silk nightgown. Because of her proud bust, the slanted light cast gray shadows on her jade-white skin. Her long hair draped over her shoulders, exhaling a seductive fragrance, with two stray black strands dipping into her neckline.

“You’re back?” Rong Zhao didn’t look up, turning a page.

Mingzhu, smelling of barbecue smoke and lake water, knew Rong Zhao would find her messy. She headed for the stairs. “I’m back. I’ll go shower first.”

“Aren’t you tired? Come sit for a bit,” Rong Zhao called out.

“But I smell.”

“Take it off.”

“…”

Mingzhu’s mind went into the gutter for two seconds. She took off her jacket, draped it over the matte black railing, rolled up her sleeves, and sat beside Rong Zhao. She started a meter away, saw no disgust, moved half a meter closer, and finally sat pressed against her.

Rong Zhao glanced at her lazily. Mingzhu gave her a playful wink. There were wet towels and fruit on the table. Mingzhu wiped her hands, took off her jewelry with a clatter, and began eating cherries. She ate them in small bites, chewing slowly, her lips soon stained red.

Remembering to feed Rong Zhao, she twisted her body and held a cherry to Rong Zhao’s lips, reporting with a smile: “Auntie was very happy today. There were lots of fish, and she loved the grilled ones.”

“Mhm. Thank you for your hard work today.” With that, Rong Zhao gripped Mingzhu’s hand and took a bite of the cherry. Juice ran onto Mingzhu’s hand. The cherry was sweet; Rong Zhao took it and finished it slowly.

“How did you ever think,” Rong Zhao suddenly said, “that the person who tattled to your parents about your skirt was me?”

Mingzhu stiffened. Realizing He Chan must have talked, she felt guilty. She spat out a cherry pit and stood up. “Sleepy, sleepy! I’m going to shower.” The realization of her own past stupidity made her want to flee.

She tried to brush past Rong Zhao’s knees, but after two steps, her wrist was grabbed. She tumbled onto Rong Zhao’s lap, instinctively clutching her shoulders. She tried to scramble away but was held down firmly. It was like years ago—the “flower cat” Rong Zhao was finally catching the runner.

Rong Zhao held Mingzhu’s waist and looked up. “Student Bai, you wronged me. Are you running away without apologizing?”

Mingzhu panicked, like a child caught in a lie. She stammered, “I… I was younger than you guys! When you were in 7th grade, I was only the age of a 5th grader. My brain only had one track—of course I thought it was you!”

Rong Zhao watched her moving pink lips. “Of course?”

Mingzhu: “Because only our parents knew each other!”

Rong Zhao: “Didn’t your teachers know them?”

Mingzhu: “…” Feeling cornered, she went on the offensive. “You said my skirt was short, but you didn’t explain why! How was I supposed to know you meant well? Isn’t that your fault too?” She grew more defiant as she spoke. “And you purposely said you didn’t know me! Even if you were mad, you shouldn’t have lied!”

Rong Zhao didn’t speak. Her eyes were fixed on Mingzhu’s red lips. She leaned over, grabbed a tissue, and wiped the red from Mingzhu’s mouth, then from her own.

“I was young, you should have yielded to me!” Mingzhu argued, her eyes wide as if she were the one deeply wronged.

Rong Zhao: “…”

Why did I even try to settle the score? Did I actually expect her to act spoiled and admit she was wrong?

Rong Zhao suddenly laughed, stroking Mingzhu’s back and soft hair. “Fine. I apologize. It was my fault.”

Mingzhu: “…” Now I feel bad.

After washing up and lying in bed, Mingzhu snuggled into Rong Zhao’s quilt, hugging her waist as a silent apology. Rong Zhao pushed her back, so Mingzhu hugged tighter.

Rong Zhao smiled and reached into the nightstand drawer, handing a small packet to Mingzhu.

Mingzhu pushed it away. “I don’t want candy.”

Rong Zhao: “Finger cots.”

Mingzhu bit her tongue. Her knowledge was truly limited.

She spent a while researching and fiddling with them. Rong Zhao closed her eyes, her breathing fluctuating, her chest rising and falling.

Mingzhu suddenly whispered in Rong Zhao’s ear, “If you hadn’t said you didn’t know me, and if you had explained why you hated my short skirt, we might have become best friends back then.”

Rong Zhao’s breath hitched. Scenes from the past became clear. In the school filled with the scent of osmanthus, the cheerful Mingzhu was always surrounded. Her hands were always linked with classmates; her eyes were always smiling. No one disliked her.

Back then, “liking” was superficial. Rong Zhao’s liking was also superficial—so superficial that she just stood coldly in the hallway watching the crowd around Mingzhu, refusing to join them or get close.

The more she watched, the more a fire burned in her heart.

Even if they had cleared things up then, they wouldn’t have been best friends. Back then, Rong Zhao wasn’t mature enough to tolerate a Mingzhu who loved everyone. But now, it was perfect. She could tolerate everything about Mingzhu and had the power to solve all her troubles.

Rong Zhao opened her eyes and ran her fingers through Mingzhu’s hair. “Perhaps.”

Mingzhu corrected her: “Definitely.”

Rong Zhao coaxed, “Mhm. Definitely.”

Mingzhu’s kisses wandered from behind Rong Zhao’s ear to her neck. Rong Zhao trembled, her head tilting back. Mingzhu wanted to bite down, to leave a mark, to draw blood. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The urge turned into a series of muffled, lingering kisses.

“Do you still have the rabbit I gave you? Do you even remember it?” Mingzhu asked, both fearing the answer was “yes” and “no.”

Rong Zhao hesitated for a moment, then lied. “I don’t remember.”

Mingzhu felt both happy and unhappy, channeling that complex emotion into her movements.

Late at night, as they slept, their phones lit up one after the other.

“President Rong, Mingzhu’s parents and Qin Yining are returning to Jiangyue from Nanyu. It’s good news.”

“Hello Mingzhu, I am Qin Yining. Sorry to bother you. I am coming to Jiangyue and would like to meet you as soon as I land. Is that okay?”