Chapter 46: Chen Fangzhou Really Has a Big Heart
At first, Jiang Xiaoyuan knew nothing about the predicament her so-called “partner,” the Empress Dowager, was facing. She was in a state of painful joy, busily working on the studio’s renovation after receiving the keys.
With a heart full of excitement but without a clue, Jiang Xiaoyuan followed along, pretending to be busy. Early in the morning, she led the workers around the space, measuring here and there, earnestly discussing various materials with them… but soon enough, she was exposed.
“Leave me some space for a sign at the entrance,” Jiang Xiaoyuan said, pacing around in her high heels, waving a tape measure. “About this big, for the studio’s nameplate. You know where to order that kind of sign, right? Yes, something official… What’s the name of the studio? Uh… I don’t know, I’ll have to ask my boss.”
She pulled out her phone but, remembering Jiang Bo’s instructions, irritably put it back, ruffling her hair. “Never mind, just leave the space for now.”
The team leader, speaking in an unidentifiable accent, asked, “Miss, are you using this room as an office? Should we change the wiring and plumbing?”
“Huh?” Jiang Xiaoyuan stood blankly at the entrance, “What does ‘change wiring and plumbing’ mean? Change it into what? Nuclear-powered?”
The team leader of the engineering team, with a kindly look at this clueless novice, deepened his understanding of human species diversity.
He patiently asked: “And what material should the nameplate be made of?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…Aren’t they all made of plastic?”
The team leader subtly expressed that she should perhaps go and cool off somewhere else and bring back someone with common sense. Jiang Xiaoyuan’s confidence took a severe hit, but she swore earnestly: “I promise, in a couple of days, I’ll understand all this. Really, just give me some time.”
In the morning, Jiang Xiaoyuan faced disdain at the studio, and by the afternoon, she was embarrassed again at the business registration office.
Because the route she checked online in advance was wrong, she couldn’t find the place. Considering that she was in the difficult stage of starting a business, Jiang Xiaoyuan refused to take a cab. Without a phone plan, her data was limited, so she wandered down the street, searching for cafés with open Wi-Fi. She’d enter, pretending to look at the menu, just to use their network to get her bearings.
She finally managed to find the Industrial and Commercial Bureau, only to be completely clueless when facing the staff. In the end, she was bathed in the staff’s gaze of bewilderment as they lectured her like a child. She left with a bunch of incomprehensible forms, feeling completely overwhelmed.
On her way back, she was unlucky enough to hit rush hour. The subway was packed to the point where it could crush people to death.. Now well-versed in the survival tactics of public transportation, Jiang Xiaoyuan quickly found a small corner to squeeze into. She used this time to finish her remaining vocabulary task for the day and turned up her headphones to drown out the roaring subway. In this noisy chaos, she managed to peacefully listen to an entire standard-speed VOA segment.
The school was considerate—it was summer break, and they hadn’t rushed to kick her out of the dorms. Jiang Xiaoyuan could stay temporarily until the studio was ready, then she would move there.
Her day wasn’t even close to being over yet. Jiang Xiaoyuan hurried to the food stall near the school gate and called out, “Master—”
The cold noodle vendor responded immediately, “Got it! One cold noodle, just a little chili, extra cilantro!”
For the umpteenth time, Jiang Xiaoyuan ran back to her dorm with her cold noodles, eating while reading a book on special effects makeup theory that she borrowed from the school library, making sure to waste no time.
She tried her best to keep both time and costs as efficient as possible.
The school computer lab was already locked, so after her “combat meal,” Jiang Xiaoyuan headed to an internet café to keep her promise to the foreman. She searched online for various office renovation tips, researching the differences between materials and their price ranges.
After finishing everything, Jiang Xiaoyuan slipped out of the internet café amidst the constant pings of QQ messages and the clanging sounds of video games. She had neither the time nor the money to indulge in the internet.
A life with both money and leisure—how enviable. Jiang Xiaoyuan had neither, yet she found rare enjoyment in life.
No amount of enticing perfume could mask the dullness of life itself; no gold or jewels could fill the void of joy.
It was only then that Jiang Xiaoyuan finally wrapped up her day, returning to the dorm after 10:30 p.m. She received a text from Jiang Bo using a new number.
Jiang Bo briefly explained that he would be using this temporary number to contact her from now on and instructed her to text him if anything came up, advising against calling unless necessary.
Jiang Xiaoyuan stared at the message for ten seconds, feeling, for the first time, that something was odd.
Jiang Bo didn’t seem like the rebellious type of son who’d be afraid of his mother nagging him. His extreme caution reminded her of Xu Jingyang, trapped in the lighthouse.
She decided to test the waters and sent a message: “Do you need me to hold onto your documents?”
Jiang Bo: “Yes.”
The next day, Jiang Xiaoyuan really did receive a same-city courier from Jiang Bo—a black folder containing various documents and certificates, along with a bank card with the password attached. Jiang Bo’s message said it was for handling all the procedures and studio renovations and reminded her to keep the receipts.
Jiang Xiaoyuan was startled, realizing that her paranoia might have been justified. Something was very wrong. Although Jiang Bo hadn’t said anything outright, she had the eerie feeling that he had entrusted his life and everything to her. The thought terrified her, so she nervously texted his new number, “Do you want me to call the police for you?”
This time, Jiang Bo left her anxiously waiting for nearly 24 hours before replying with a simple: “No. Handle the rest as you see fit. This studio has to succeed. I may not be around for a while, so I’m entrusting it to you.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan inexplicably sensed an ominous undertone in his words. Cautiously, she asked: “Boss, you trust me this much? What if I mess things up?”
This time, Jiang Bo didn’t respond.
Jiang Xiaoyuan had so many things she wanted to ask him—for example, what is the studio’s design style? What should its name be? how to go about the procedures—but all those questions had to remain unspoken.
She was worried about him while feeling like she could split herself in two. The studio was also her own business, and even without Jiang Bo’s request, she would have been dedicated. But her intuition told her there was a dangerous desperation in Jiang Bo’s words, as if failing with the studio meant he had nothing left to live for.
Jiang Bo was the only one who offered a suggestion for the studio’s name. He wanted to call it ‘Free Years’ Styling Design Studio. However, when Jiang Xiaoyuan went to the Industrial and Commercial Bureau to check, she found that the name had already been registered by someone else. In the end, they had to change it to ‘Fragrant Years’. It sounded more like a styling design studio compared to something like ‘Free Years’, but Boss Jiang reluctantly accepted it.
Just as Jiang Xiaoyuan started to get a handle on things, she suddenly received a text from Jiang Bo’s new number.
He gave her an address without specific instructions, simply telling her to “bring all the tools and visit over the weekend.”
A shiver ran through Jiang Xiaoyuan. She texted back: “What’s the theme? Why bring all the tools?”
The reply came: “High-end client. You’ll understand when you get there.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan suddenly lost her appetite for cold noodles.
Generally, only some exceptionally clueless friends would personally request Jiang Bo to do jobs for them through personal connections—like that time he casually asked someone else to do the stage makeup for those art school kids. Apart from those, let alone high-end clients, even for ordinary customers, Teacher Jiang wouldn’t let Jiang Xiaoyuan work independently without his supervision.
He was paranoid to a certain extent, and cherished his own brand.
How could he not tell her the theme and still let her go alone?
Jiang Xiaoyuan simply replied “Okay,” not daring to say much for fear of saying the wrong thing. She was starting to wonder if it was really Jiang Bo behind the texts—maybe someone else was using his phone.
After much thought, Jiang Xiaoyuan had no other options and decided to turn to Qi Lian for help.
“Wait for me for a while,” Qi Lian quickly replied after hearing her out, “I have something to tell you too. I’ll be there soon.”
As Jiang Xiaoyuan hung up the phone, her fear suddenly deepened. She thought to herself: “When will I ever be as reliable as him?”
Some people just had this quality—like they could handle anything the world threw at them. Jiang Xiaoyuan suddenly longed to become someone like that.
True to his word, Qi Lian arrived 30 minutes later, carrying a brown envelope.
Without sitting down, he immediately said seriously, “Jiang Bo’s background is complicated. Are you sure you want to stay involved with him? If possible, I suggest you distance yourself from him.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Huh?”
Qi Lian opened the brown paper envelope in front of her, gesturing for her to take her time looking. A few photos slipped out first, and as Jiang Xiaoyuan flipped them over, she gasped sharply—what kind of monstrosity was this!
The person in the photos was still a teenager, wearing a smoky makeup that defied any description in human language, completely obscuring his facial features. He could almost compete in a global emo championship.
The background was a dim and dingy place, possibly some shady entertainment venue. The pitch-black sofas looked like gaping mouths ready to swallow the people sitting on them.
One photo showed a scantily dressed nightclub woman hugging the boy from behind, feeding him alcohol. Other photos captured the boy blowing smoke toward the camera, his expression dazed and frightening, as if what he was smoking wasn’t ordinary tobacco.
Jiang Xiaoyuan asked, “…Is this Jiang Bo?”
Qi Lian: “Yes. I did a bit of digging. During his teenage years, he had a terrible reputation at school. He was expelled from high school, transferred to a private school, but didn’t finish there either. Later, he ended up in the hospital for overdosing on sleeping pills and spent two years in a mental health facility. He’s also suspected of having a history of drug use, though that’s not confirmed.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “I don’t believe that. He doesn’t do drugs; he’s even quit smoking.”
Qi Lian raised an eyebrow slightly, which softened his normally refined demeanor, giving him a hint of danger.
Qi Lian: “How do you know?”
“I just know—Jiang Bo is a clean freak,” Jiang Xiaoyuan explained. “Also, how does taking sleeping pills once lead to being committed to a mental health hospital?”
Qi Lian: “That was his guardian’s decision.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was stunned.
“This brings me to the second thing I wanted to tell you,” Qi Lian said, becoming more serious. He fully opened the envelope and pulled out another photo. “You’ve seen this person before—she’s the one who was following you in that pink car the other day.”
The woman in the photo looked much younger than when Jiang Xiaoyuan had seen her. She was attractive, flamboyantly dressed, but her expression carried something particularly unsettling.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Jiang Bo’s mother.”
“Fan Xiaoxiao,” Qi Lian said. “She made her fortune early on from operating illegal mines. She’s Jiang Bo’s adoptive mother.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was shocked: “Adoptive?”
“Fan Xiaoxiao adopted Jiang Bo when she was thirty-six, and he was thirteen. Less than a year later, she divorced and has been raising a teenage boy on her own ever since,” Qi Lian gave Jiang Xiaoyuan a meaningful look. “There are some things I can’t say too clearly. Do you understand?”
At first, Jiang Xiaoyuan was confused, but she quickly caught on from Qi Lian’s expression. Her eyes widened in realization.
“This Miss Fan doesn’t like Jiang Bo getting too close to any women. It’s rumored she forced him to quit his job because the industry involves too many women,” Qi Lian’s voice softened as if he were afraid of frightening Jiang Xiaoyuan. “Now do you understand why she’s been following you for no reason?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan absentmindedly fiddled with the corner of the paper. The exhaustion of preparing for her studio and planning to go abroad came rushing back at her like a delayed reckoning. The image of Jiang Bo in her mind blurred and then sharpened again—she thought of his sweat-drenched wounds under his hat that he refused to expose to daylight, and the gloomy look in his eyes. She remembered his hurried steps in the hallway, as if he was on the verge of taking flight.
“I still think you should consider other options,” Qi Lian advised. “With your abilities, any studio would welcome you. You could gain some experience in running a studio, build up a network, and save yourself a lot of trouble down the line.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan remained silent.
Qi Lian studied her expression for a moment, sensing that his well-intentioned advice might go to waste.
He knew he might sound cold, but he didn’t know Jiang Bo personally. To him, Jiang Bo was just some arrogant weakling who always looked like he was owed something and smelled of perfume. Qi Lian had seen Jiang Xiaoyuan work hard for so long and was moved by her efforts. He didn’t want to see all her work go down the drain.
The things Jiang Xiaoyuan had said to Jiang Bo the other day weren’t entirely fair—sometimes, the effort you put in doesn’t go unnoticed by others.
Qi Lian: “Even if your boss really is a decent guy, a reformed character, what about his crazy adoptive mother? Wouldn’t she be a huge hassle for you?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Back then, you could’ve just transferred some money into Xu Jingyang’s account. You weren’t afraid of getting tangled up with blacklisted people like us, always running around plugging leaks, were you?”
Qi Lian: “…”
Jiang Xiaoyuan:”When pyramid schemes were rampant and not even the police cared, weren’t you worried about causing trouble for yourself when you bailed out Mr. Chen?”
Qi Lian:. “…And you have no shame bringing up such shady history—Chen Fangzhou’s got some nerve too.”
“Someone who survived a failed suicide attempt and spent two years in a mental institution—do you know how hard it is for him to have turned into a normal person again?” Jiang Xiaoyuan muttered. “Jiang Bo’s practically my idol now.”
Qi Lian: “…”
If he had known that airing one’s dirty laundry could win sympathy and admiration, could he have followed suit?
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