The Moon Shines Upon Me - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Plagiarism

Gu Shiwei got into the car gracefully under Assistant Chen’s unblinking gaze.

After buckling her seatbelt, Gu Shiwei put on some light music before heading out onto the road.

The music flowed gently through the cabin. Gu Shiwei’s slender, fair fingertips tapped the steering wheel rhythmically to the melody, making crisp clicking sounds.

After a while, she suddenly spoke: “Actually, Assistant Chen’s professional competence is quite decent; it’s just that her personality is too introverted. Shen Yuan, what do you think?”

Gu Shiwei intended to groom Assistant Chen for a permanent position. As a CEO, she surprisingly didn’t have a trusted confidante yet. Although Assistant Chen wasn’t smooth enough, she was, at the very least, a graduate from a prestigious university; there were no major issues with her work ability.

“She’s just a young girl fresh out of the ivory tower who hasn’t been polished by the workplace yet. It’s like this at the start,” Shen Yuan said, her hands folded neatly on her lap as she tilted her head to look at Gu Shiwei.

“What about you? Were you like that when you first started working?”

As Gu Shiwei spoke, she caught a glimpse of Shen Yuan through the rearview mirror. Shen Yuan had a classic Southern look long jet-black hair, a palm-sized oval face, rosy lips, and white teeth. Her skin was as tender as almond tofu, making her look very young, like a fresh college graduate.

Shen Yuan was momentarily stunned: “I don’t remember. It’s already been six years since I finished my undergraduate degree.”

Although it had been six years since her graduation, she actually had eight years of work experience. In her junior year of college, her financial support was cut off because she left the Shen family. Consequently, Shen Yuan had to take on part-time errand jobs and even outsourced art projects for small companies.

At that time, Shen Yuan was far more introverted than Assistant Chen. A girl who was a wealthy socialite one day had suddenly become a pauper overnight, forced to show her face in public just to earn a living.

Initially, Shen Yuan couldn’t swallow her pride, but hunger eventually made her humble.

Later on, let alone taking outsourcing work, as long as it paid, she could even work a part-time shift serving food in the cafeteria without batting an eye.

Her former classmates didn’t know her situation. Seeing her sudden, uncharacteristic shift to working part-time, they assumed the “Eldest Miss” was just experiencing how the other half lived.

Shen Yuan’s mental fortitude wasn’t as strong then as it was now. When people mocked her, she could only hide in her dorm, tucked under her quilt, silently swallowing her tears.

Those two years were an agonizing time for Shen Yuan.

Fortunately, after graduation, she entered a major tech firm (Big Tech). For the next three years, she could at least afford food and shelter.

If that incident hadn’t happened three years later, she probably would have lived quite well, working at that firm until retirement.

Gu Shiwei had seen Shen Yuan’s resume, so she naturally knew she had graduated six years ago. She was merely using Assistant Chen as a springboard to hear more information from Shen Yuan’s own mouth.

“Shen Yuan, I looked at your resume and noted that you have three years of experience as a Concept Artist.” Gu Shiwei paused here, weighing her words for a few seconds before continuing: “What was the reason you resigned from Qiu Yu Group three years ago?”

Shen Yuan’s brow suddenly furrowed.

The moment she heard “Qiu Yu Group,” she felt as if she had been plunged into a glacier—the cold was bone-deep.

Six years ago, Shen Yuan joined Qiu Yu Group through campus recruitment. After a six-month internship, she became a permanent Game Concept Artist.

Through her outstanding ability and three years of diligent work, Shen Yuan was on the verge of being promoted to Lead Artist in her fourth year.

However, on the eve of the promotion assessment, a scandal broke out claiming Shen Yuan’s artwork had plagiarized another online blogger. Shen Yuan was served with a lawsuit and taken to court. Because her computer had been accidentally damaged, Shen Yuan couldn’t produce evidence to prove she hadn’t plagiarized, while the opposing side had “overlay proofs” of all her recent works as evidence.

Ultimately, Shen Yuan lost the case. The court ordered her to pay 300,000 RMB in compensation to the infringed party, plus 600,000 RMB in accountability damages to her company. Shen Yuan was saddled with a total debt of 900,000 RMB.

Nine hundred thousand yuan was nothing to the former Shen Mingyue, but to Shen Yuan, it was a staggering sum.

Shen Yuan had worked at Qiu Yu for three years and saved about 600,000 RMB after rent and food. She sold everything of value on Xianyu (second-hand market), and by working day and night taking on outsourcing, shaking milk tea, and waitressing, doing four or five jobs a day she finally paid off the remaining 300,000 RMB two years later.

After paying off the debt, Shen Yuan quit all her jobs. After staying at home for a few days, she logged into Wen Jian Jiang Hu, which she hadn’t opened in years.

At that time, Shen Yuan didn’t know what was wrong with herself. It seemed that once the debt was paid, she no longer had the drive to work. She never thought about picking up a pen to draw again; the lawsuit had left such a deep scar that she felt she might never want to draw again in her life.

That night in Wen Jian, Shen Yuan chatted with Lin Qinghuan for a long time. She asked Lin a lot about her “Little Apprentice.” She was relieved to hear the apprentice had gone abroad for further studies.

Shen Yuan was currently living in a pile of filth, staying in a dilapidated room less than ten square meters. The ghostly green light from the computer screen cast a glow over her gaunt face, and before she knew it, she broke down in tears.

Later, she didn’t remember specifically what she said that night, only that Lin Qinghuan kept sending her messages, telling her she must go see a psychologist the next morning.

In truth, Shen Yuan had long suspected her mental health was failing, but while she was burdened with massive debt, she had no time to care. She had to work herself to the bone without a moment’s rest just to pay it off and grant herself freedom.

She was afraid that if she stopped, she wouldn’t have the courage to stay alive.

Treating the depression took an entire year. Although Shen Yuan tried her best to cooperate with the psychologist, terrible thoughts still sprouted uncontrollably in the dead of night. The scars on her wrists—new ones replacing the old never truly healed. The despair and pain in her midnight dreams were like a sharp knife stabbing into her chest.

The stigma of “plagiarism” tortured her every night, making sleep impossible. At that time, Shen Yuan really did think about ending it all countless times.

In the darkness, a dazed Shen Yuan walked toward the windowsill. If she just jumped from here, she would be free.

With no family, no job, and a body full of ailments, there was nothing left in this world worth holding onto.

Shen Yuan’s frail hands braced against the windowsill. She looked down in despair at the distant skyscrapers and the scattered lights.

Despite so many lights, not one could guide her.

Shen Yuan stood up, her consciousness blurred. Just as she closed her eyes, a massive force pulled her back by the waist.

“Shen Yuan!”

“Shen Yuan? Wake up, quickly!”

“Shen Yuan, can you hear me?”

Immersed in painful memories, Shen Yuan suddenly shuddered in the car seat. Her thoughts slowly returned, and her clearing eyes first saw a vivid, beautiful face.

Gu Shiwei held Shen Yuan’s chin with one hand and pulled out some tissues with the other to wipe the cold liquid from her face. Her movements were frantic, her heart racing with anxiety.

Was there some hidden story behind her resignation three years ago?

Why did she turn pale and start crying uncontrollably the moment I asked that question?

Having realized something was wrong, Gu Shiwei had pulled the car over into an emergency corner. She then patted Shen Yuan’s face repeatedly to pull her thoughts back from the memories.

Seeing that Shen Yuan was awake, Gu Shiwei looked at her with lingering fear: “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. What happened just now? Shen Yuan?”

After coming to her senses, Shen Yuan blinked hard several times, forcing back the uncontrollable tears. With trembling lips, she whispered dazedly: “I’m fine.”

Despite saying that, her voice was still choked with uncontrollable sobs. Her long eyelashes were trembling rapidly, and her upper body swayed as if she hadn’t fully pulled away from that painful memory.

Beep.

“Low blood pressure detected.”

Hearing the piercing alarm, Gu Shiwei’s brow jumped: “Shen Yuan, your blood pressure is abnormal. I’m taking you to the hospital immediately.”

“Don’t…” With a pale face, Shen Yuan used all her strength to grab Gu Shiwei’s arm.

She tilted her head, her dark eyes looking at Gu Shiwei, and said urgently: “It’ll be fine in a moment. Can we please not go to the hospital?”

After speaking, Shen Yuan closed her eyes. She turned her head toward the window and took several deep breaths. The “butterfly bones” (scapulae) protruding under her shirt rose and fell with her breathing. Only after her heart rate completely stabilized did Shen Yuan finally look back at Gu Shiwei.

“I’m a bit hungry… can we go home first?” Shen Yuan gritted her teeth and said with difficulty: “Gu Shiwei… trust me… I’m really okay.”

Hearing this, Gu Shiwei’s gaze shifted down to Shen Yuan’s wrist. Upon seeing a small flash of light there, Gu Shiwei’s light-colored eyes flickered. The next moment, she suddenly jerked the steering wheel and drove back onto the main road.

The black Rolls-Royce, like a charging leopard, quickly darted into the winding flow of traffic. As night fell, it drove toward the glittering skyscrapers.

Yunjin Villa

By the time Gu Shiwei and Shen Yuan returned home, the housekeeper had already prepared the meal. Shen Yuan went to the restroom to wash her face before coming out to eat.

When she emerged, her eyes were still red. Her dark, bright pupils washed by tears contrasted sharply with her pale complexion.

Gu Shiwei, still worried, took hold of Shen Yuan’s wrist. She checked the smartwatch several times, and only after confirming her blood pressure had returned to normal did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Gu Shiwei pressed Shen Yuan into her seat and served her a bowl of red mushroom chicken soup: “Didn’t you say you were hungry? Eat quickly.”

Shen Yuan was stunned for a moment, then whispered: “Thank you.”

Shen Yuan kept her head down and finished an entire bowl of rice.

Seeing this, the weight on Gu Shiwei’s heart slowly lifted. She set down her chopsticks, her gaze lingering on Shen Yuan.

“Shen Yuan, we haven’t exercised today.”

The hand holding Shen Yuan’s bowl froze: “Give me five minutes. I’ll finish this soup.”

Gu Shiwei: “No rush.”

After dinner, Shen Yuan followed Gu Shiwei downstairs. They first walked two laps around the community lake, and then Gu Shiwei pulled Shen Yuan into several laps of slow jogging.

When they stopped, Shen Yuan was huffing like an ox that had just finished plowing two acres of land.

Under the streetlights, on a bench in the community park, Gu Shiwei looked at Shen Yuan and suddenly said: “Shen Yuan, if you encounter any difficulties in life or work, you can tell me. I can help you.”

“There’s no need.” Shen Yuan pursed her lips, but added: “Thank you.”

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