Frivolous - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

At 9:00 PM on May 14, 2024, Chen Ran was wheeled out of the operating room.

She was a discarded pawn of capital, and a discarded pawn of herself.

But she was not Yu Lanzhou’s.

The first person she saw when she opened her eyes was Xu Wan.

Seeing her awake, Xu Wan leaned in hurriedly and asked, “You’re awake! How do you feel?”

Chen Ran didn’t answer. Her hand without the IV drip was draped over her eyes, tears seeping through her fingers.

“Does it hurt somewhere? I’ll go call the doctor.”

Chen Ran reached out and grabbed her, just as she had grabbed Yu Lanzhou before. It was only by touching Xu Wan’s hand that she confirmed the reality of everything before her.

She shook her head at Xu Wan, took a breath, swallowed in her parched throat, and finally said, “It doesn’t hurt.”

It truly didn’t hurt. If Yu Lanzhou was willing to come see her and save her, how could it hurt? She only felt a sense of bliss.

She wanted to cling to her like this, hold her, and never let go. Like a drowning person clutching at a final straw. No, not a straw—a small boat (Lanzhou). Though unsteady, it was the grand force of Chen Ran’s world.

Xu Wan pulled out a tissue to wipe Chen Ran’s tears. “If it doesn’t hurt, why are you crying so hard?”

“It’s nothing.” Chen Ran still didn’t let go. She asked Xu Wan, “Where is she?” Her voice was piteous.

A few seconds later, she realized the form of address was wrong, at least for now. She corrected herself: “Where is Teacher Yu?”

“Teacher Yu had to rush back to the office to handle some matters.”

“Will she come back?”

Xu Wan replied honestly, “It’s not certain.”

But seeing Chen Ran’s eyes fill with a transparent lake of tears again, she quickly added, “She will come.” These were words beyond Yu Lanzhou’s instructions, but Xu Wan knew—how could she not come?

Looking down again, she saw a faint smile on Chen Ran’s flawlessly beautiful face, like a peach blossom trembling with dew.

Chen Ran waited in the hospital for three days, and finally, on the fourth day, Yu Lanzhou arrived.

At noon that day, lying in the hospital bed, Chen Ran could still feel the summer heat and waves of warmth outside the window. Only the room remained quiet.

There were two knocks on the door. Chen Ran cleared her throat, sat up, and said, “Come in.”

Yu Lanzhou pushed the door open, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

She was rarely seen wearing a “Cloud-over-Mountain” blue shirt. Over it was a white suit jacket, and she carried a Louis Vuitton chain bag. The hair on her forehead was swept back slightly, while the hair at her temples fell to her shoulders, making her look both sharp and gentle.

Around her neck, she still wore that sandalwood necklace.

At the very first sight of her, Chen Ran’s eyes grew moist again. Her nose felt sharp with emotion; her vision became ancient and blurred. Her gaze first met Yu Lanzhou’s eyes and instantly dissolved like water, rippling in circles. Then she noticed a small stray lock of hair tangled with the necklace at the other woman’s collarbone.

Yu Lanzhou approached, set the flowers on the table, and asked, “Are you feeling better? Is anything still hurting?”

That scent again. Chen Ran lifted her chest, breathing deeply.

Yu Lanzhou’s attitude was as if nothing had ever happened between them before. All the probes, flinches, and retreats beneath the undercurrent seemed non-existent.

But what did that matter? As long as she could see her again.

“Much better. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Chen Ran shook her head, forced a small smile, and continued, “I feel great.” She then asked, “Weren’t you abroad?”

“How did you know?”

“Just… just…” Chen Ran stammered, unable to give a reason. She didn’t dare mention Su Ping’an’s name.

Yu Lanzhou didn’t press her. She sat on the nearby sofa, glanced at Chen Ran’s right wrist, then looked into her eyes. “Has the doctor said when you can be discharged?”

Chen Ran hid her right hand behind her back. “Probably in about two weeks. It’s not confirmed yet.”

“What are your plans after you leave?”

Chen Ran’s mind went blank. She didn’t know what plans she had, or what plans she should have. During these days of recovery, she had simply let herself drown in the intense, feverish emotion of Yu Lanzhou having saved her.

She shook her head honestly.

“After you’re discharged, come stay at the Yu residence for a while. Stop working. We’ll talk after you’ve recovered.”

The villa in Beijing was usually only occupied by Yu Lanzhou, though Yu Tingzhou visited occasionally. However, she didn’t say “my house”; she said “the Yu residence.”

Chen Ran’s heart skipped a beat. Her gaze was scorching and full of tenderness, looking at Yu Lanzhou with a hint of disbelief, as if asking: May I?

“Yu Zhou is worried about you. She’s set to return on the 30th. In any case, you are Yu Zhou’s sister; there is no difference between you and a biological sister.”

The heart that had been pounding violently a moment ago seemed to suddenly flatline. But Chen Ran didn’t dare show it. She didn’t dare act out of “pride” as she had before, saying things like ‘I don’t want that, I want to stand beside you as an equal.’

She needed this too much. Someone who had faced death knew best how to find any way to survive. She nodded and said, “Okay. Thank you, Teacher Yu.”

Yu Lanzhou glanced at her, a flash of surprise in her eyes. She took Chen Ran’s phone from the bedside and pointed it at Chen Ran’s face. “Blink.”

Chen Ran blinked.

Yu Lanzhou saw that Chen Ran’s WeChat avatar was Lan Yangyang (Lazy Sheep). Her thin lips curled down slightly as she asked, “Why is it Lazy Sheep?”

How childish.

“I just feel he’s quite cute.”

Another half-truth. Yu Lanzhou gave her a sidelong glance.

Chen Ran peeked at her guiltily, then added, “Baidu Baike says he is a little sheep who places great value on the worth of his own life and his personal dignity.”

As expected, those who lack something believe in it most fervently.

Yu Lanzhou nodded. She opened her own phone, found her QR code with a slight lag, and scanned it with Chen Ran’s phone. “I’ll come pick you up when you’re discharged.”

Clearly, Yu Lanzhou was the type of person who never proactively added anyone on WeChat.

Chen Ran’s heart began to act up again: as long as Yu Lanzhou showed even a tiny bit of initiative, Chen Ran felt as if her life had been extended.

Ten seconds later, she received a WeChat transfer of 2,000 yuan. Chen Ran’s heart surged with blood as she looked at Yu Lanzhou.

Did she… get it back for her?

Yu Lanzhou returned a steady gaze. “The money that belongs to you.”

“How is she?” Chen Ran asked, referring to Li Nan.

Yu Lanzhou tilted her head indifferently. “I don’t know.”

Just then, Yu Zhou called. Yu Lanzhou looked at Chen Ran and pressed answer. Yu Zhou’s crisp voice came through: “Mom, did you go see Sister?”

“I’m at the hospital. Do you want her to take the call?”

Chen Ran waved her hands in front of her chest like a panicked Maneki-neko (lucky cat), saying flusteredly, “Auntie, you talk to her. I’ll call her back later.”

But Yu Lanzhou seemed to want to tease her. She handed the phone to Chen Ran, nodding for her to take it.

Chen Ran took the phone and heard Yu Zhou ask, “Sister, how is your body? Will you be out of the hospital when I come back for summer break? Come stay at the house, okay? I want to see you when I get home.” She then called out to Yu Lanzhou like she was acting spoiled, “Mom, that’s okay, right?”

“It’s okay.”

Chen Ran glanced at Yu Lanzhou in surprise. The other woman’s expression was normal.

So, the idea of her staying at the house wasn’t first proposed by Yu Zhou. It was Yu Lanzhou.

A mist floated through Chen Ran’s heart. She answered Yu Zhou’s first two questions, avoiding the last one for a moment: “I’m okay, I should be discharged. How is your health lately?”

“I’m fine, Sis, don’t worry.”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t change the subject, Sis. You’ll be waiting for me at home, right?”

Chen Ran responded unnaturally, “Okay… yes… I will.”

“Good. You said it. If I don’t see you when I get home, I’ll cry for you to see.”

“Threats have no killing power.”

“Sister!” Yu Zhou roared. “How can you be like that?”

“Okay, okay, I will, I will.”

After hanging up, the ward fell silent again. It felt as if the two of them had just colluded to deceive Yu Zhou. Chen Ran’s palms were sweaty, and she glanced guiltily at Yu Lanzhou again.

The latter checked her watch and asked, “Is there anything you want to eat? I’ll have Xu Wan buy it.”

“I’m not very hungry yet. If you’re hungry, you can order first.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Chen Ran felt her brain stall again. When Yu Lanzhou asked that, she obviously meant she was leaving the hospital—why would she order food here?

Just as she was feeling dejected, she heard Yu Lanzhou ask, “So, after coming back from the gates of hell, is there anything you want to do?”

Chen Ran didn’t know the intent behind this question either. After thinking for three seconds, she replied, “I want to see the sea.”

“The sea?”

“Yes. The sea in Linxi.”

Yu Lanzhou’s brow furrowed slightly. She felt Chen Ran had an obsession with the sea in Linxi. She had mentioned it twice in variety show interviews—that she wanted to see the sea.

“Mhm. Go when your injuries are mostly healed. Yu Zhou should have time; you two go together. There’s a house in Linxi too. You can go and recuperate properly.”

The one-in-a-ten-thousand hope in Chen Ran’s heart vanished in an instant.

Yu Lanzhou stood up. “I have things to do. I’m leaving.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask.”

“How did you find me back then?”

Regarding this question, Yu Lanzhou could have offered a perfect alternative explanation: that someone took a photo of her covered in blood and posted it on TikTok with a location tag. But this was a question that could not be evaded with a lie.

Yu Lanzhou sat back on the sofa, her arm resting on the armrest. After a moment of thought, she sat up straight and said in a formal tone, “Regarding this matter, I need to apologize to you.”

“All my electronic devices are equipped with a separate tracking system. The one I gave you as compensation was new, and I thought it wasn’t installed. But on the day I was looking for you, I tried checking, and it was there.”

“I only looked that one time, so you don’t need to worry too much. After this, don’t use that phone anymore.”

Chen Ran was startled. She didn’t quite understand why this was the case. But when Yu Lanzhou said “I thought it wasn’t installed,” did that mean the person who installed the tracking wasn’t her, but someone else? Someone who wanted to know Yu Lanzhou’s whereabouts? Yu Jizhi?

No one can truly explore the secrets of a wealthy, prestigious family.

A deep, shimmering light suddenly clouded Chen Ran’s gaze as she looked at Yu Lanzhou. She must be very tired then.

Being stared at by a pair of wet eyes made Yu Lanzhou uncomfortable. “Why are you suddenly looking at me like that? Do you think I’m strange?”

“No.” Chen Ran’s voice hitched with another sob.

Yu Lanzhou’s tone was utterly helpless. “I already said, I really only looked that one time.”

“It’s not because of that.”

“Then what is it because of?”

Chen Ran didn’t answer.

Yu Lanzhou suddenly realized—could Chen Ran be feeling sorry for her? She adjusted her voice unnaturally; she had to leave. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

On the day of her discharge, it was the fourth time Chen Ran had ridden in a car driven by Yu Lanzhou. It was a different car this time a white Bentley Flying Spur. Chen Ran sat in the passenger seat, looking left and right.

Sitting in silence felt a bit awkward. Yu Lanzhou pressed a button in the car and asked, “Do you want to listen to music?”

Chen Ran nodded.

“Connect your Bluetooth and play what you like.” Yu Lanzhou wanted to hear her playlist.

“Okay.”

Chen Ran chose a song she often listened to before bed called “Cloud Village.” The melody and lyrics were pleasant, with a voice that seemed to evoke rising hearth smoke and flowing water it was very helpful for sleep.

Next was a Cantonese song. Yu Lanzhou listened to the slow, gentle articulation, but the emotion was heavy. “What song is this?”

“’Night Rain Record’ (Ye Yu Ji).”

“Which characters?”

Chen Ran answered, “The Ye Yu from ‘Night Rain Sent to the North’ (Ye Yu Ji Bei), and the Ji from ‘notebook’.”

But she felt Yu Lanzhou wasn’t just asking for the title. In other words, she felt the swaying vine Yu Lanzhou had proactively extended again. So, she had to grab it. “I’ll share my playlist with you later.”

Yu Lanzhou’s expression was flat. “Mhm.”

When the sixth song was still a pop track, Yu Lanzhou asked curiously, “Why isn’t it rock?”

“I was afraid you’d find it noisy.”

Yu Lanzhou faintly felt that Chen Ran’s words were keeping her at a distance. She glanced at the rearview mirror. After overtaking a car, she pursed her lips into a faint smile and said, “Is that so?”

Chen Ran flipped through her playlist, carefully selecting. “Then I’ll find something more peaceful.”

“Mhm.”

The song began with a male voice intro, followed by a female voice filled with a sense of storytelling: I gather everyone’s gaze to burn upon you / I stack my past and present hearts upon your body.

Just as the chorus hit, a call came in. Chen Ran was looking out the window. Yu Lanzhou glanced at the caller and swiped to answer.

“How is she?”

As soon as the voice on the other end spoke, Chen Ran snapped her head back, then immediately turned to look out the window again, pretending she hadn’t heard.

It was Zhou Jingting again.

Yu Lanzhou looked straight at the road ahead and answered warmly, “She’s fine now. She’s in my car.”

“Good. Then I’ll call back tonight.”

These past few days, Chen Ran had swallowed the same question over and over: Why save me? Now the answer was clear again it was pity.

Chen Ran’s hand traced a circle on the car window, then fell weakly. She toyed with her phone to restart the music.

The intro of the final song was a poet-like recitation. Before it could even reach the chorus, Chen Ran skipped it and pressed pause.

Upon arriving at Yu Lanzhou’s villa, Chen Ran got out of the car.

Yu Lanzhou glanced at the screen to see the title of the song Chen Ran had just skipped: I Do Not Wish for Another Life.

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