Weakness Trap - Chapter 39

Yu Qingluan felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

She couldn’t even sit steadily, and the chopsticks in her hand clattered to the floor.

Yu Qingluan abruptly leaned backward, her chair sliding back a meter until it hit the wall.

The impact jolted her slightly awake, giving her enough strength to look down at the report.

As soon as she clicked on it, she realized it wasn’t just one article it was many.

The exaggerated headlines typical of Hong Kong media, paired with maliciously unsubtle wording, flooded into Yu Qingluan’s vision.

She didn’t want to see it, but she couldn’t help but read the content.

“What is this.” Yu Qingluan muttered under her breath as her eyes scanned the screen.

Too much information assaulted her at once, leaving her no time to process it. She found herself reading the sentences aloud.

The first article’s main content claimed that Yu Lingxue had a secret girlfriend, with whom she had been in a long term relationship. Both sides had met each other’s families, and their relationship was stable.

There was even a photo. Yu Qingluan clicked on it and saw her own silhouette.

Judging by the angle, it had been taken without her knowledge while she was walking on the streets of Hong Kong.

There was no sign of Yu Lingxue in the photo after all, in her three visits to Hong Kong, Yu Qingluan had never once walked the streets with Yu Lingxue.

The closest they had ever been was when Yu Lingxue entered her hotel room late at night.

The biggest scene they had caused was when Yu Qingluan tore up the love letter she had written for Yu Lingxue at their engagement party.

Her hands trembling, Yu Qingluan scrolled down.

The content below was even more absurd. It claimed that the two were deeply in love, and that Yu Lingxue had threatened her family to marry her, and so on.

It even alleged that the ring Yu Lingxue was currently wearing was actually given by Yu Qingluan, not Yan Lanshen.

The accompanying photo had been photoshopped to include Yan Lanshen’s face as a clown, with a huge “The Other Woman?” caption below.

Yu Qingluan almost laughed in disbelief.

She really had bought a ring for Yu Lingxue.

It was a long, long time ago.

If not for this article, she would have completely forgotten about it.

It reminded her. She had never mustered the courage to give Yu Lingxue that ring. She had worn it a few times herself, lost in beautiful fantasies dreams of growing old together, of vows of eternal love. She had even imagined proposing to Yu Lingxue in public, moved by her own romanticized drama.

In the end, it was all a waste.

She would throw it away when she got back.

Yu Qingluan closed the article.

If this was all, why would her shop’s business be affected?

People loved gossip. Without any solid evidence, shouldn’t more customers be flocking to her store instead?

Yu Lingxue and she were no longer connected.

Yu Qingluan took a deep breath. She was here to find the reason.

Looking back later, Yu Qingluan deeply regretted it.

She should have stopped while she was ahead, or at least sensed some underlying connection.

Instead, she lost control of her emotions.

But at that time, Yu Qingluan was still too young, too stubborn.

This applied to both her relationships and her actions.

So she clicked on the next article.

This one was about the marriage arrangement between the Yan family and Yu Lingxue.

It described how, over twenty years ago, the Yan family had sent eight carloads of resources to the Yu family, just to secure Yu Lingxue as a bride.

There was even a photo. The technology back then wasn’t advanced, so the picture was blurry and yellowed, but it was clearly taken outside the Yu family’s mansion.

It also mentioned some conflicts between the Yan sisters. Only now did Yu Qingluan learn that this Yan Lanshen was Yan Wenying’s older sister.

Yan Wenying was the one who had gone to Chu City to find Yu Lingxue the fiancee.

Hong Kong media thrives on such gossip. After extensively detailing the discord between the two, the narrative took a sharp turn, claiming Yu Lingxue had fallen for Yan Lanshen, who ultimately emerged victorious.

But the good times didn’t last. While studying abroad, Yu Lingxue met someone who became her sugar daddy. Even after her engagement, she continued to maintain financial and physical ties with this person.

The accompanying image was rather explicit and fake. Yu Qingluan glanced at it; the face was too blurry to recognize. It wasn’t her.

She wondered which unfortunate soul had been caught by the Hong Kong media and subjected to such slander.

Yu Qingluan scrolled further, and a line of text leaped out at her, nearly causing her to drop her phone.

The report focused on analyzing whether she or Yan Lanshen was the homewrecker.

The key evidence presented was her shop.

The shop had been photographed, and its address was disclosed.

She could be seen bustling about inside. Zooming in, Yu Qingluan realized the photo was somewhat dated, the grocery store across the street hadn’t finished moving out yet.

Her breath hitched as she continued reading.

The media had dug up the shop’s owner, claiming she was a close friend of Yu Lingxue’s cousin. They even posted a group photo of the three from social media.

Using this, they insinuated that Yu Qingluan had accepted gifts from Yu Lingxue, that Yu Lingxue was her sugar mommy, and that she was nothing but a shameless mistress.

Staring at the name, Yu Qingluan recalled the landlord’s name that Zeng Lan had once shown her and this time, she really did drop her phone.

The phone slipped helplessly from her grasp, clattering onto the table.

Yu Qingluan felt as if her brain had exploded. Her vision swam with chaotic, dizzying static.

She couldn’t breathe, and her heartbeat seemed to vanish.

Why? Why couldn’t she escape this person, even after leaving them behind?

Was it wrong to want to build a career, sell products, become a designer someday, and promote culture?

Why did this person have to interfere over and over again, condescendingly offering things she never asked for?

Why did they think they could harass her endlessly, just because they felt like it?

Did they ever stop to consider how she would feel about this?

Did they not realize this could all be exposed?

If only they could see what the media was saying accusing her of not being self-reliant, of depending on Yu Lingxue for everything, even using her money to open the shop.

They belittled her relentlessly, dragged her friends and family into it, and scorned her character.

Yu Qingluan felt nauseous. Covering her mouth, she remembered the lingering gazes she’d felt while working in the shop recently.

So it wasn’t her imagination.

Those stares were either from Yu Lingxue or from these unscrupulous, rumor-mongering media outlets.

Gagging repeatedly, Yu Qingluan realized she’d barely eaten lunch after finishing the day’s accounts before stumbling upon this mess.

At least she hadn’t thrown up in the shop, how would she have cleaned that up?

She retched up acid, gasping for air.

The air seemed to carry Yu Lingxue’s scent, as if she were there again, begging for things Yu Qingluan could never grant, fueling her irritation.

Yu Qingluan held her breath and looked up.

But Yu Lingxue wasn’t there. It was just a hallucination born from her intense aversion.

Yu Qingluan knew she could never let this go, never forgive this person.

How could she not hate them?

She had ruined her own life, destroyed her own efforts. After painstakingly building up her career, only to discover one day that even this business came from Yu Lingxue.

How could she not hate her? What exactly did Yu Lingxue want?

Yu Qingluan couldn’t bring herself to confront Yu Lingxue again, couldn’t face her to curse her out.

Thinking of her only brought the shock of discovering the origin of her shop.

Yu Qingluan closed the shop door.

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling.

This ceiling, which perfectly matched her aesthetic taste, might very well have been installed by Yu Lingxue.

Those few empty display cases, just perfectly placed, might have been arranged by Yu Lingxue.

She hated her for being so “thoughtful,” despised her for meddling so much.

Recalling the looks in the eyes of the customers who had come specifically to see her in the shop that morning, Yu Qingluan felt as though she had been trampled into the dirt.

She was a child from a poor family.

Even when her ancestors had entered the palace as embroiderers, they had never prospered, leaving behind no antiques. This time, to afford her tuition for studying abroad, she had to sell off most of her possessions.

Since childhood, she had worn clothes handmade by her mother and grandmother, one piece after another.

She had watched their hands become covered with scars from needlework, seen the wounds multiply day by day, and the patches on her own clothes grow more numerous.

Her dignity meant that even when her stomach ached with hunger, she only dared to borrow rice from the neighbors, writing an IOU and repaying it as soon as she had any surplus grain.

Her dignity meant that in her interactions with someone like Yu Lingxue, she absolutely refused to take even the slightest advantage.

She rejected the expensive gifts Yu Lingxue tried to give her. She refused the bags and perfumes, declined to live in Yu Lingxue’s luxurious apartment.

For every favor Yu Lingxue offered, Yu Qingluan repaid it tenfold. Only then could she feel that she and Yu Lingxue were equals. She owed Yu Lingxue nothing.

And yet, in the end, it had come to this.

She truly should never have started anything with this person.

She should have thrown her ashore back then, driven her off her boat, never allowed her to step into her territory.

She was poor. So poor that she had endured hunger and cold.

In the years she was born, her mother carried her on her back from morning till night, working until her back was bent and her eyes sunken, just to barely provide for the two of them.

She was so poor that as a child, Xiang Yan would secretly bring her corn, only to be discovered by Xiang Yan’s grandmother and beaten for it.

She was so poor that even when she had only one coin to her name, she would buy a sweet potato to repay Xiang Yan’s kindness.

That winter, the two of them stood on the street, each with a handprint on their face, their bottoms too sore to sit, watching people come and go as they shared that sweet potato. That was how they became friends.

Her life had slowly improved over time, becoming more like that of an ordinary person. But the mark of poverty remained seared into her heart.

She still remembered the snowy days of her childhood, her mother holding her close. They had no fire, no electric heater, no coal only each other’s warmth, rubbing their hands together to keep from freezing.

When she once asked if they could go to Uncle Fang’s warm house, her mother had scolded her.

Yu Shuhua asked her, “Do you know that for every gain, there is a loss?”

“Do you know that no one gets something for nothing?”

“Do you know what that uncle wanted from Mom when he showed you around his house?”

Little Yu Qingluan didn’t understand, but she was frightened into tears by Yu Shuhua’s explanation.

Then Yu Shuhua held her quietly and explained the truth to her.

People like them, who had nothing left but their dignity, could not afford to lose even that.

So above all else, they must never let go of their dignity.

What about Yu Lingxue? Has she ever experienced this feeling?

Has she ever empathized with her even a little?

Has she ever truly understood why she refused her gifts and what lay behind it?

How dare she be so self-righteous. How dare she make such an unnecessary move!

How dare. make her experience, after more than ten years, the pitying and condescending gazes of others once again? See them scrutinizing her character?

She never took anything from Yu Lingxue.

Never.

But who could she tell?

The media only cares about controversial topics. As for Yu Lingxue, she didn’t want to see her at all.

Yu Qingluan sat alone, crouched in her seat, staring at the shop, her mind buzzing.

She just sat there, withered and unmoving, not returning home even late into the night.

She thought about so much, disgusting and dizzying thoughts, agonizing for a long time.

Yet it felt as if she hadn’t thought about anything at all, just lost in a daze, with scenes from the past playing frame by frame before her eyes.

She saw her childhood, the scars she never wanted to share with anyone, her birthmark, the permanent wounds.

And her self-esteem, trampled all over by Yu Lingxue.

In the end, Yu Qingluan stood up and smashed the shop’s cabinets.

She probably had no rationality left.

Shattering the things Yu Lingxue had given her didn’t seem enough to prove her heart.

Throwing out everything Yu Lingxue had given her still didn’t seem to prove her innocence.

So, what could she do?

In despair, Yu Qingluan lit a fire.

She burned the shop, and herself along with it would that work?

She wasn’t the kind of person who would take money or accept favors without giving back.

Who would believe her?