Chapter Fourteen: No One Loves Her

In the photograph, Shi Yong Fu tenderly held Yue Yu in his arms.

Such trust, such need, such an urgent hope that the other would stay by his side for a lifetime.

It almost seemed to burst forth from the spiderwebbed, yellowed, old screen.

— "Wicked woman, filthy prostitute, daddy’s favorite person is mommy."

— "You annoying little temptress, why don’t you just die? Why do you have to show up and make people sick?"

Some words were even replaced with pinyin.

Yu Zao knew, both the multimedia messages and texts were written by Yi Yi Fu!

Being insulted and mocked so cruelly by her own son.

Yet she, as if masochistic, repeatedly read through every message he sent.

Ten years ago.

Her mother died.

The night her father banished her from home.

In the eyes of the father she loved most, just like Shi Yong Fu and Yi Yi Fu.

The only one they could see, the only one they chose to cherish and love from beginning to end, was Yue Yu—only her.

"Yu Zao, a person with nothing, for whom even living in good health has become a luxury."

"What exactly are you holding on to? What are you insisting on!?"

The breakdown came silently and unyielding.

After leaving Yang Chen’s ward, she stood on the twelfth-floor terrace, speaking to herself.

Her limbs spasmed and trembled uncontrollably without medication.

Passersby pointed and whispered, some with pity, some with curiosity.

But most with disgust!

"Mom, is that pretty lady dancing?"

"Let’s go, let’s go. That person must be crazy. So scary! Let’s get out of here!"

Bang!

Her forehead struck the hard, yet equally filthy, metal railing.

Blood mixed with the foul scent of rust.

Yu Zao deliberately did not take her medicine.

She was a little self-destructive. Perhaps one day during an episode, she might just fall from this high building.

Would that finally end the misery of her entire life?

Her phone fell to the ground.

Yue Yu’s number sent a flurry of messages.

— "Sister, they say good begets good, evil begets evil."

— "Now it seems the real viper-hearted, low-quality person must be my beautiful sister~"

— "Otherwise, why would heaven be so kind to me?"

— "Shi Yong loves me so madly, even Yi Yi, your own son, prefers me as his mother!"

— "How does it feel, being cursed so harshly by Yi Yi? Isn’t it satisfying?"

— "Yu Zao, if I were you, living like this, I’d rather just bash my head in and die."

— "Hahaha, defeated foe, you’re destined to be trampled under my feet forever, hahaha..."

Arrogant, triumphant, the pride of a victor.

Yu Zao recalled that in the hospital room, Shi Yong Fu, pinching her cheek, had said similar things.

He said, "Are you jealous? I can give Yue Yu trust, wealth, love. Aren’t you envious?"

So they had everything, and she—bare, like a clown—scraped by for survival!

The cold wind of early October brushed her face.

The waning crescent moon cast a cold, hopeless glow over Yu Zao’s frail, swaying figure outside the railing.

Eyes closed, not a single tear fell.

Her dry eye sockets ached as if ready to burst into blood at any moment!

The wind howled around her ears.

She heard, from long ago,

Shi Yong Fu, who had just come to the city from the countryside, spoke in a sincere, pleasant dialect, "Hello, could you tell me how to get to Qingbei University? Could you please take me there first? Then I’ll try to kill myself, thank you."

"Xiao Yu!"

Her body was like a rootless floating leaf, leaning forward.

A desperate growl came from behind.

The next moment, nearly falling, Yu Zao was yanked back by a huge hand.

"Yu Zao, are you crazy? If you want to die, wait until I wake up!"

Yang Chen was so angry he was incoherent.

But the “culprit,” delirious, struggled and insisted on clutching his neck, laughing foolishly.

"Shi Yong Fu, you saved my life again."

"Does that mean I owe you my body now? You brat!"

On the way back to the psychiatric ward, Yu Zao babbled nonsensically.

Sometimes crying, sometimes laughing.

But every three sentences mentioned “Shi Yong Fu” and “Yi Yi Fu.”

After taking special medicine and sedatives, she soon fell asleep on the bed.

But her graceful brows remained knotted tightly, unable to relax.

"Director Yang, Miss Yu’s condition shows that her Huntington’s chorea-induced depression has become very severe."

"My advice is, the one who tied the bell should untie it."

The attending psychiatrist’s professional recommendation.

Yang Chen sighed helplessly and glanced at the pitiful figure curled under the blanket.

He sighed deeply, shaking his head, "Xiao Chen, tell me, if you want to love but dare not, love but cannot let go, let go but can’t bear to—what would you do?"

"Isn’t that a dead end? Does anyone really get this unlucky?"

Yes!

Of course!

Yu Zao was that wretched soul, worse than dead, with no way out!

At the Fu family villa.

The wine cellar.

Shi Yong Fu was drunk to the point of stupor.

He vomited violently, his stomach acid tinged with blood.

On the walls hung one oil painting after another, all on the same theme.

There was a half-naked, sunny young man just out of the bath.

A new father, cautiously holding a baby for the first time.

And a handsome youth forced into feminine clothing, posing seductively.

Beneath, in fine handwriting, were lines of inner monologue.

— "The hundredth day since meeting Shi Yong Fu."

— "The three hundred and sixty-fifth day since meeting Shi Yong Fu."

— "The five hundred and sixty-first day since meeting Shi Yong Fu. Congratulations, we’re about to graduate."

— "The seven hundred and thirty-first day since meeting Shi Yong Fu. Hello, my little Yi Yi..."

Ahhh!!!

The man smashed bottle after bottle of strong liquor.

His bloodshot eyes, like a trapped beast in darkness with no way out, growled and struggled.

He suddenly raised his hand, wanting to tear down every carefully framed painting to throw into the fireplace and burn to ashes.

But as the flames just touched one corner,

Shi Yong Fu suddenly lunged forward, letting his hands burn and peel, yet he still saved the paintings.

He was heavily drunk.

His mind churned with memories of Yu Zao risking everything to protect him at Yang Chen’s villa.

His tall, imposing figure was like a mad, jealous stray dog.

Clutching the nearly burned paintings, he crouched miserably on the high-end nanmu wood floor.

His pale, bony fingers tirelessly caressed the handwriting left by the girl again and again.

He buried his head, hiding his handsome face in his arm, his voice hoarse and torn.

"Yu Zao, how long will you torment me?"

"Loving you was the biggest mistake of my life, and I won’t make the same mistake twice!"

"I will marry Yue Yu. I will learn to love her."

"As for you, you’re just an utterly dispensable passerby in the lives of Yi Yi and me."

One week later.

Yu Zao and Yang Chen were discharged on the same day.

With increased antidepressants, her condition worsened further.

But as long as she lived, she had to earn money.

In northern Beijing, with the Fu family’s ban on her, she could only do work that required no ID.

"Thirty-five an hour. Put on your clothes."

"This is an emotion release center. When customers hit you, don’t retaliate."

"But the clothes have safety features. You won’t get hurt."

After the boss’s instructions, he pushed her into the venue.

Meanwhile, a Rolls-Royce bearing the Fu family’s special license plate stopped outside the release center.

Yue Yu, holding Shi Yong Fu’s hand tightly, smiled brightly and urged, "Shi Yong, let’s go! I’ll take you somewhere fun, hurry, hurry!"

Almost at the same time,

Yang Chen’s message appeared on the phone screen.

— "Mr. Fu, this is Yang Chen. If it’s convenient, I think we should meet—just you and me!"