Frivolous - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

After entering the house, Mother Lin took the luggage from Chen Ran’s hands and led her upstairs to introduce her room.

“Chen Ran,” Yu Lanzhou called out to her.

Chen Ran turned around, standing still, and gave a heavy “Mhm.”

“Come to the study after you’ve finished unpacking.”

“Okay, Auntie Yu.”

Half an hour later, Chen Ran stood at the door of the study, hesitating. Her mind was in a mess, wondering what Yu Lanzhou would say to her.

Mother Lin, coming by to deliver tea, asked her, “Why aren’t you going in?”

“Oh, okay.” Chen Ran followed behind her.

Mother Lin placed the tea on the guest table. “Teacher Yu, I’ve put the tea here.”

Yu Lanzhou looked up from her music scores. “Mhm. You may go.” She then said to Chen Ran, “Sit.”

Chen Ran sat on the sofa a few meters away from Yu Lanzhou.

Yu Lanzhou’s study featured two floor-to-ceiling windows: one faced the lush greenery of the trees outside, and the other looked toward distant mountains. Sitting there, framed by the blue of the mountains and the green of the trees, Chen Ran looked like a little sprite, though her expression was somewhat sluggish.

Yu Lanzhou sat at the other end of the sofa, leaning back in a relaxed posture. “Taste the tea.”

There was only one cup on the table; Yu Lanzhou didn’t drink tea, so Chen Ran naturally picked it up and took a sip. Before she could distinguish any flavors, Yu Lanzhou asked, “When did Auntie Lin pass away?”

The surname Lin (Lìn) was rare, so Chen Ran reacted quickly. Lin Jing was the “Muma” who had raised and cared for Chen Ran in the orphanage.

Chen Ran set the tea down, sat up straight, and rubbed her hands unnaturally against her thighs. “July 7th of that year.”

Yu Lanzhou asked again, “You were admitted to Jimin University, weren’t you?” It was a top-tier “985” university in Beijing.

“Yes.”

A dull, irritable heaviness grew in Yu Lanzhou’s chest, enveloping her heart like a hazy mist.

Lin Jing had passed away from a sudden illness. Before she died, she had even hung a celebratory banner in front of the welfare home to announce that Chen Ran had been accepted into Jimin University.

How did you swallow all of this alone? How many tears must you have mixed with it to get it down?

“Why didn’t you find me after all that happened? That family wanted a million yuan; that wasn’t something you could solve.”

Chen Ran swallowed the bitter tears seeping from her heart. Her voice was weak. “Back then… I suppose it was a tiny remnant of my self-respect.”

“Self-respect? Did you not know the situation you were facing? A year in prison, all for the sake of a few words.” Yu Lanzhou’s voice was full of regret. She asked, “Chen Ran, are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

Before Chen Ran could answer, Yu Lanzhou continued, “But Chen Ran, I don’t regret the words I said. So, if you feel I owe you something—I’m sorry, I won’t be providing any compensation for it.”

“Then do you think I deserved it?”

“No, I don’t think that. I’m just saying… you should know that I don’t owe you anything.”

So I shouldn’t have any more improper thoughts or try to push my luck, right?

Chen Ran smiled gently and replied, “I know. You have never owed me anything.”

Yu Lanzhou was silent for a long time before changing the subject. “Do you still want to sing?”

“Can I still?” Chen Ran laughed self-deprecatingly.

“If you want to,” Yu Lanzhou looked at her intently. “As long as you are willing.”

The day Chen Ran hit the hot searches, Yu Lanzhou had Xu Wan book a flight back to China. She felt something was wrong. Chen Ran wasn’t the kind of “shameless killer” people described.

Xu Wan had investigated the case from that year and found numerous suspicious points. A month before July 4th, someone had reported a man in his twenties wandering suspiciously at the intersection of Shengshan Road and Hongxin Road.

The man who died in the accident, Zou An, had been expelled from university for using a homemade crossbow to kill small animals. He was later diagnosed with liver disease and was awaiting a liver transplant before the accident occurred. After dying of a myocardial infarction, Zou An’s uncle donated his kidneys as next-of-kin. A year later, a small villa was built at the uncle’s home.

Individually, these facts meant little, but together? Could such coincidences really happen?

Under Yu Lanzhou’s influence, the past case was reopened. According to the timeline: At age 21, the junior student Zou An shot and injured 17-year-old Chen Ran with a compound bow; the police never caught the culprit. At age 22, Zou An was reported by classmates and expelled in March; shortly after, he was diagnosed with liver failure. Two months later, he died following a “non-contact accident” and his kidneys were donated.

Or rather, it was more accurate to say that Zou An and his uncle deliberately staged the non-contact accident to extort money. The uncle was confirmed to have profited from the kidney donation.

Yu Lanzhou leaned forward, closer to Chen Ran. “In a few days, the police will summon you to reinvestigate the case. Including the incident where you were shot with an arrow.”

Chen Ran pursed her lips slightly, not appearing particularly surprised.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Yu Lanzhou tapped her fingers on the armrest. “How did you know?”

“After getting out of prison, I worked for a year to save money. I took the money to Zou An’s house, wanting to pay them back bit by bit. I saw a crossbow and arrows in his room; the fletching was the same as the one that hit me. Later, his sister told me the truth.” Chen Ran’s tone was flat, as if discussing someone else’s business.

This meant the year Chen Ran spent in prison, the year she spent atoning, and her entire education were wasted because of organized crime. All her “reparation” was meaningless and foolish. Those events—things Yu Lanzhou could have cleared up with a simple inquiry—had trapped Chen Ran for two years, perhaps longer.

It was only after leaving Zou Yiyi’s house that Chen Ran stopped choosing to atone like a masochistic monk.

Yu Lanzhou suddenly sighed, her breath thin. “Chen Ran, don’t hate me.”

Chen Ran’s heart was gripped. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you, really.” This sentence was filled with absolute sincerity.

She hated fate, hated the road conditions, hated her own carelessness, but she never hated Yu Lanzhou. Toward Yu Lanzhou, she felt only gratitude. In prison, she would watch the moon all night. Without the moon, life would be as dark as a dead land.

“Do you want to continue singing?”

If so, sign with Yu Lan. From now on, I will protect you.

Chen Ran nodded heavily. “I do.” She wanted to shed her past self and embrace a spiritual rebirth.

Yu Lanzhou spoke calmly: “All negative search terms have been removed. The specific investigation will be completed within a month. At that time, you’ll sign back with Yu Lan, and a new manager will take you. The copyrights held by Ge Chao have been reclaimed. Wait quietly for a while; within half a year, you can return to the stage.”

Chen Ran had never heard Yu Lanzhou speak so much at once. Her voice was peaceful, and her intonation was vivid, like a poem with perfect rhyme. What hurt Chen Ran most was that while Yu Lanzhou said “I don’t owe you anything,” she had immediately planned a path and cleared all obstacles for her.

How can she be so good? So good that Chen Ran felt she was despicable for taking advantage of her.

“I’m signing back to Yu Lan?”

Yu Lanzhou’s eyes paused, then she looked at her smoothly. “If you have other choices, of course you can take them.”

Chen Ran shook her head quickly. “I don’t.” Signing with Yu Lan meant she could see her occasionally; that was enough to make her happy for a long time.

“I have a question about the past.”

“Ask.”

“If, back at the orphanage, I had chosen you… would the current you be willing?”

Chen Ran heard her heart thumping again. Thump-thump, thump-thump.

“I wouldn’t be.” Her voice was steady, tied to her heart. How could I possibly be willing (to be your daughter)?

Yu Lanzhou watched the tea leaves hit the side of the porcelain cup and nodded.

“When your wrist is better, contact Xu Wan. Go to the hospital for a procedure; surgery should make it nearly scarless.”

“Mhm, okay.”

“Nothing else. Go back and rest. Tomorrow at five, I’m picking up Yu Zhou.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Mhm.”

As Chen Ran walked out, just as she was about to close the door, she heard a voice like warm jade: “Chen Ran, everything is moving in a good direction. Look forward.”

Look forward.

Okay.

On her first night in Yu Lanzhou’s villa, Chen Ran couldn’t sleep for a long time. At this moment, Yu Lanzhou was lying in a room on the second floor, just like her, looking at the same moon. Chen Ran’s bedding had a pleasant scent, somewhat familiar perhaps the same detergent used for Yu Lanzhou’s clothes. It was so cozy she wanted to cry. She was happy to the point of death.

Chou Fang sent a message asking if she was okay. Chen Ran replied: Good.

The fact that Yu Lanzhou was willing to acknowledge her again was already a massive stroke of luck. For the rest of her life, even if she was only allowed to love her secretly, she would have no more regrets.

The next morning, Chen Ran managed to sleep well, waking up at eleven. She opened her phone to see a message from Yu Lanzhou: Whenever you wake up, you can go down to eat.

Chen Ran felt both sweet and bitter as she typed: Okay.

Downstairs, Yu Lanzhou was gone. Mother Lin brought out the prepared meal. Seeing Chen Ran’s eyes darting around, she said, “Teacher Yu went to the office.”

“Okay.”

Chen Ran didn’t send another message to disturb her.

At 3:00 PM, she received a message from Xu Wan asking if she wanted to go pick up Yu Zhou; if so, they would come back for her. Yu Zhou would surely want her there. Chen Ran replied: I want to go.

Xu Wan parked the car downstairs and opened the back door for Chen Ran. Yu Lanzhou was sitting in the back seat. Chen Ran hesitated, her eyes asking, “Can I sit next to you?”

Yu Lanzhou gave a slight nod, the red mole near her eye dropping slightly lower. Chen Ran sat down stiffly. As the door closed, that cold, ghostly fragrance enveloped her again. It was a slight despair—the despair of being so close yet so far. Chen Ran sighed softly.

They waited at the arrivals gate, and soon Yu Zhou walked out. Her features were small and exquisite; she wore a white bodycon dress under an oversized light-striped shirt, with black tall Martin boots. At sixteen, she was at the age of invincible youth.

Seeing them, she immediately lunged forward, hugging Yu Lanzhou first, burying her head in her neck and rubbing against her affectionately. After ten seconds, Yu Lanzhou pushed her away, and Yu Zhou laughingly hugged Chen Ran. Chen Ran stroked her back; she smelled of a very youthful, fruity perfume.

“I missed you so much.”

“Me too.”

“No you didn’t!” Yu Zhou pulled back from the hug, looking at her with smiling eyes like a little clever devil.

Chen Ran patted her head. “Nonsense.”

Dinner wasn’t eaten out; they had a warm meal at the Yu residence. Yu Zhou didn’t insist on sleeping with Chen Ran like before, but she stayed in Chen Ran’s room asking many questions. Mostly about the past three years, with nothing related to romance.

Over the next few days, Chen Ran was called to assist in the investigation. Before long, all information regarding the cases was made public: A private hospital in Hanglin was suspected of organized human organ trafficking, and the responsible persons were arrested. Zou An’s uncle and aunt, Zou Baohai and Zou Guirong, were arrested for extortion and organ trafficking.

The court re-evaluated Chen Ran’s hit-and-run case based on new evidence: The incident was not a traffic accident. Zou An was the primary party responsible for the “staged accident” (pengci); his actions were illegal, and Chen Ran was not at fault.

The day she walked out of court, Chen Ran looked up at the clear sky. It’s been a long time.

Beside her was a senior manager named Ruan Qinglu. Yu Lanzhou hadn’t come, because this was a case that was destined to win. This was a righteous victory; public relations for this type of case required saturating the hot searches with the verdict results:

• #Chen Ran Not At Fault#

• #Hanglin Rende Hospital Organ Trafficking Exposed#

• #Reversal in Chen Ran Hit and Run Case#

• #How to Handle Non-Contact Traffic Accidents#

• #Zou Suspended for Animal Cruelty#

• #”Victim” or Perpetrator?#

• #Chen Ran Once Injured by Zou’s Compound Bow#

Clicking in, one could see the timeline of facts and results for this series of cases.

Chen Ran posted a Weibo:

Three years ago, I made a mistake due to negligence. When the accident occurred, I had a lucky and careless mindset and failed to report to the police in time to assume my responsibility. I apologize to the public. I’m sorry. I hope my lesson reminds everyone to be cautious. Be careful in daily travel, do not evade traffic accidents, and take initiative to report and bear your responsibility.

Attached was a certificate for a two-million-yuan donation. The funds were to help families struggling after hit-and-run accidents. The tide of public opinion turned instantly.

Still, some skeptical comments remained:

• Isn’t 2 million a bit little for a celebrity who dropped out of high school? The commenter was quickly rebutted:

• (Show us your own donation certificates and student credentials first.)

• (Chen Ran already donated over ten million before.)

• Actually, that person you called a dropout is from my school; she was accepted into Jimin University.

• (Is this for real? Are you trolling?)

• (I can testify. She was a legend at Hanglin No. 26 High School.)

Chou Fang also asked if it was true. Chen Ran, sitting in a styling shop, replied: Guess. Chou Fang: Fake. OK.

Chen Ran laughed and turned off her phone. Pointing at a rose-pink gold color in the catalog, she told the stylist, “I want to dye it this color.”

During her past performances, though she tried many styles, she always had black hair. Now, she wanted to dye it back to the pink of her eighteen-year-old self.

They didn’t return until 4:00 AM. Yu Zhou had messaged Yu Lanzhou ahead of time, but didn’t say why.

The next morning, a starving Yu Zhou went downstairs for breakfast and ran into Chen Ran coming out of her room. Chen Ran’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Hungry?” Yu Zhou nodded heavily.

The two hadn’t eaten the night before. First, Yu Zhou dragged Chen Ran to dye her hair; afterward, Chen Ran said she wanted a tattoo, and Yu Zhou stayed with her.

At the dining table, when Yu Lanzhou saw them, her expression shifted from surprise to calm. She set down her porcelain cup. “What happened to you two?”

“Mom! Does it look good?!” Yu Zhou rushed over excitedly, tilting her head to rub her newly dyed “Starry Purple” hair against Yu Lanzhou’s arm.

“Mhm, it looks good.” Yu Lanzhou picked up a strand of purple hair, rolling it between two long fingers, and said slowly, “A bit like Tutu’s mom.”

Chen Ran, seeing her tell a “cold joke” with such a serious expression, couldn’t help but burst into laughter. She understood the reference, but Yu Zhou, having a generational gap, asked, “Who is Tutu’s mom?”

Chen Ran searched for the image on her phone and showed it to Yu Zhou.

Yu Zhou looked at it seriously, even zooming in. Her large eyes darted around. “She and I are both quite good-looking.” She then asked Yu Lanzhou, “What about my sister’s? Does it look good?”

Yu Lanzhou looked at Chen Ran, who had dyed her hair back to pink. She thought of the term others used—”Pure Little Wild Horse”—now she was a pink wild horse. But she only gave a faint smile and no verbal evaluation.

Chen Ran sat down on Yu Lanzhou’s left, glancing at her occasionally before quickly reaching for a sandwich. Yu Lanzhou noticed something on Chen Ran’s right wrist as it passed before her eyes lines of deep blue and pink. She didn’t see it clearly and didn’t look again.

Before going upstairs, she glanced slightly at Chen Ran. Chen Ran seemed to understand what she meant. She stuffed a few bites of bread in her mouth, washed it down with milk, quickly grabbed some tissues, and ran upstairs while wiping her mouth.

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