Chapter 50 I No Longer Have a Home

Women grow through their falls, and become strong through their tears.

Jade, who had been standing quietly to the side, watched her tumble out of bed, fumbling to find her clothes and hastily change. She hesitated, unsure whether she should mention what had happened the night before, but before she could decide, the young woman had already dressed and hurriedly opened the door, rushing downstairs.

By the time Jade grabbed her phone to give chase, she had already climbed into a taxi and departed.

From the balcony on the second floor, a pair of calm eyes followed her departure. The phone’s ring sounded, and Lu Huaining answered without hesitation, “What is it?”

“Mr. Lu, the sanatorium notified me this morning that it seems Miss Xue’s situation can no longer be concealed,” Chu Ci reported. Lu Huaining slowly withdrew his gaze, letting out a low hum. “I see.”

“In addition, I’ve investigated the culprit behind yesterday’s accident. It was Dong Qian who covertly switched the props, resulting in Miss Xue’s injury. Mr. Lu, how should we handle this?”

“Handle it as you see fit. Isn’t the PR department always looking for ways to generate buzz for our new release?” Lu Huaining sipped his Blue Mountain coffee, his hawkish brows knitting slightly; the now-cool coffee was indeed lackluster.

Chu Ci, ever the trusted confidant, immediately grasped the unspoken meaning. After a brief exchange, Lu Huaining ended the call.

At Creek Mountain Sanatorium, soft autumn sunlight fell serenely on blue butterfly embroidery spread out on the terrace. The light cast a golden halo, and Zhong Yilan closed her eyes, memories of the past flickering before her as if they had happened only yesterday.

The door opened with a soft click as the handle turned.

Zhong Yilan’s hand stilled, and though she did not turn, she spoke calmly, “You’ve finally come.”

“Mother, I…” Xue Zuining was stopped short by the cold aura her mother exuded. As she lifted her head, several newspapers came flying toward her in a disordered heap.

She didn’t have time to dodge and allowed them to strike her, then fall to her feet. The large headlines were plastered with ambiguous, hazy photographs that immediately filled her with shame.

“Don’t you owe me an explanation?” her mother asked, her calm eyes concealing a deep, simmering anger. Beneath the blue hospital gown, her frame was frail yet unbowed. “Xue Zuining, what on earth is going on?”

“It’s not what they’re saying…” Xue Zuining reached out to steady her mother, who seemed ready to collapse with rage, but her mother’s frigid stare stopped her hand in midair. “Mother, please, believe me, I—”

“What exactly is your relationship with Lu Huaining?” Her mother fixed her with a piercing gaze. As Zuining faltered, unable to speak, her pale cheeks flushed crimson with shame, and even her fingertips trembled. “Did you… Did you really become someone’s mistress?”

Zuining saw her mother raise her hand and shut her eyes tightly. For a long moment, the expected pain didn’t come. Opening her eyes, she saw her mother clutching her chest in agony, collapsing onto the hospital bed. She had forgotten—her mother was ill. How could she have provoked such a proud, fragile heart?

In a panic, she searched for medicine and poured some water. “Mom, your medicine…”

But the pills she brought to her mother’s lips were pushed away in disappointment, her mother’s eyes full of bitter regret. As Zuining wept and pleaded, her mother, breathless and hoarse, finally spoke.

“Ningning, do you know why I named you ‘Ning’? Because I hoped my daughter would live a peaceful life. I never thought—all my teachings would come to nothing. Did you ever consider your father, who’s gone, when you fought and schemed with such disgraceful means?”

Zuining froze under her mother’s accusatory gaze, tears falling one by one. Helpless, she could only shake her head. She could not explain—how could she ever reveal the truth of that transaction to the world?

“What does your head-shaking mean? It must be those shameless tabloids twisting the truth, isn’t it?” Zhong Yilan clung to her daughter’s hand as if grasping at a lifeline. “Speak! Tell me you have nothing to do with Lu Huaining! Tell me you’re not anyone’s mistress! Tell me you’re not the other woman!”

“Mom… I really didn’t mean for this to happen…” Zuining had no idea how to soothe her mother’s fury. It was as though an ugly scar had been carved into her heart. “Truly, I didn’t…”

Her mother, in a wild frenzy, pushed away her continuous apologies, falling hard to the floor, yet feeling no pain. Her voice, now icy and utterly devoid of gentleness, pronounced each word with chilling clarity, “I, Zhong Yilan, do not have a daughter who is the other woman!”

Her mother looked at her with the cold finality of a judge delivering a death sentence. She shook her off, dragging her toward the door, repeating the same sentence over and over, “You are not my daughter, not my daughter. I have no daughter. My daughter is dead, dead…”

“Mom—” Dragged out of the room, Xue Zuining collapsed to her knees, pounding on the firmly closed door with both hands. “I was wrong, I was really wrong…”

On the other side of the door, her mother stared at the chaos around her, the sound of her daughter’s tearful apologies echoing ceaselessly. Her breath caught in her chest, forcing a harsh cough until tears welled up. Feebly, she slid down against the door, sinking along with her tears.

“Ningning, Ningning…” Her mother let out a broken laugh. “It’s all fate’s design, all a destined debt… Fine! So be it…”

Outside the room, crimson blood seeped through the bandages, leaving a long, narrow stain on the door—a vivid, startling mark.

Kneeling on the icy floor, Xue Zuining’s tears fell like raindrops, shattering as they struck the ground.

A tall figure slowly loomed behind her. She looked up, meeting a pair of clear, lake-like eyes.

“I have no home anymore…” For now, she had finally lost her only family.

Chen Sang gazed at her—so familiar yet so changed. That night, her every word had thundered in his heart. Now, countless emotions flickered in his eyes, and as he knelt down beside her, his arms instinctively enfolded her. “Don’t be afraid. You still have me.”

She wept in silence, all her pent-up anguish spilling onto his shoulder. Chen Sang’s heart ached as he held her close in the long corridor, cradling her sorrow. He had not expected that a casual visit to a friend’s relative would lead to meeting her again in this sanatorium—nor that all his confusion and inner conflict would vanish the instant he saw her.

“Chen Sang, do you know? I… can never deserve you again.” Gently, Xue Zuining slipped from his gentle embrace, like a fallen angel, broken-winged, departing forever from the warmth of paradise.