"The Gilded Cage: Playing with Fire" Chapter 21
An identical diamond bracelet was also on her wrist.
A style I had picked out myself.
Most of the people in attendance were married wives from wealthy families, and Crystal soon began asking about my significant other.
Crystal said her husband worked in the government and was incredibly busy every day, always traveling for business, so they rarely saw each other. Her own work was quite demanding, and floral arrangement was one of the few hobbies she managed to keep up with.
"Xiao Li, what does your husband do?" Crystal asked, looking a bit depressed. "We're currently planning to have a child, but we hardly see each other more than a few times a month. You know, having a child isn't something I can do alone; it's not like you can just decide to have one and it happens."
I said he worked at a private company, comforting her not to worry.
Chapter 41: A Total Failure
Crystal began to sigh, saying she had almost suspected her husband of having an affair. "But he treats me especially well, so I have to trust him..."
I didn't know if my hypocritical consolation had worked on her or if it was some other reason. After class, Crystal said she felt a kinship with me and wanted to exchange contact information, which I politely declined. Crystal asked for my address, and I casually blurted out the address of a high-end apartment complex near Sera's place.
Crystal looked a bit regretful. "Then our homes are actually quite far apart."
We walked out together. In the elevator, Crystal dialed a call to Christian, mentioning that her mother had recently undergone surgery, hinting that he should visit. Crystal's voice was naturally alluring, and when talking to Christian, it turned so soft it could practically melt.
"...Why don't you come over to see my mother tonight? Besides, I haven't seen you for a week, and I'm afraid Director Christian has already forgotten about his wife."
Two minutes after the call ended, Christian called me, explaining he couldn't make it to my place that evening. I replied magnanimously: "I know you're busy." Looking at Crystal's profile, a sudden, long-lost sense of guilt washed over me once more. I really am a homewrecker.
Before class ended, I had messaged Logan to notify him not to come pick me up. Who knew that as soon as I stepped downstairs, I saw Logan's car anyway. That little bastard must have been too preoccupied with gambling to even glance at his phone.
I stopped in my tracks. Crystal looked back at me: "Why aren't you walking?"
"Forgot something," I lied. "You go ahead." No sooner had the words left my mouth than Logan jumped out of the car, waving in my direction and calling out a full-voiced "Ma'am."
My heart trembled, and I wished I could just burrow into the earth and vanish.
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Logan was Christian's dedicated driver in name, but Christian rarely used him himself, mostly tasking him with driving me around. Naturally, he occasionally drove other family members, such as Crystal.
What if he called the wrong person or said the wrong thing...
Crystal turned back, her voice filled with surprise: "Logan, why are you here?"
Logan hurried over in two or three strides, freezing the moment he recognized the person beside me. Crystal was too busy being surprised to notice the strange look on his face, muttering to herself: "How did you know I was having a class here?" I gave Logan a warning look, terrified he might inadvertently cause a disaster.
Logan was quick on his feet, hurriedly laughing: "Director Christian—it was Director Christian's orders." With that, he ushered Crystal into the car. I stared at her slender back as she disappeared into the vehicle and decided I should inform Christian that I had run into his wife.
The text was sent out, and after a long delay, Christian replied with three words: Be careful.
He offered no further reproach or dissatisfaction.
He was even more sparing with his words than I had imagined.
That night, my conscience still pricking, I messaged Sera to vent, telling her that thanks to her, I had run into Christian's wife, we had even taken a class together, and now I felt guilty as hell.
Sera replied with a string of exclamation points.
—"Are you kidding me? You two haven't even crossed paths once in the past few years, how did you manage to run into each other today."
—"That's no excuse for skipping class." Sera clearly thought I was messing with her.
I thought to myself, I'm just as baffled. But regardless, I didn't dare attend that floral arrangement class again.
I didn't offer any further explanation, treating it as a total accident. Before long, the topic shifted precisely toward Sera's romantic troubles. Her pursuit had made zero progress; until now, she hadn't even managed to get William's phone number or WeChat.
A total failure.
Chapter 42: It's a Long Road, Keep Going
Across the screen, I could easily imagine the girl wrinkling her nose in total dejection.
I offered a lukewarm comfort: "It's a long road ahead, keep going, girl."
I suffered from insomnia until three in the morning that night, tossing and turning in bed, with nothing but Crystal's smiling face floating through my mind. The next day, I climbed out of bed with two dark circles under my eyes, dug out a long-forgotten paper address book, and dialed Sister Qian's number for the first time in ages.
Eight years later, her phone number remained unchanged.
Sister Qian lived in a villa complex in the suburbs, and we agreed to meet at a Starbucks near her home.
She arrived before me. Despite not having seen her in so many years, I recognized her instantly. The fifty-something woman had brown curly hair and eyes that looked like silk, leaning back on the sofa smoking. She wore a light blue qipao that clung to her still-graceful figure, highlighting her snow-white skin. Save for a few fine lines on her neck, there was almost no trace of time on her.
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Seeing me approach, she crushed her cigarette, the corners of her mouth curving up as she inspected me with satisfaction: "You've become a lot prettier." Her gaze was like one inspecting her own handiwork.
"Are you asking about that Mrs. Christian?" She lowered her eyes in thought, speaking slowly after a long pause: "Her surname is Lin, right?"
I said: "Crystal Lin."
Sister Qian possessed vast connections, knowing countless high-ranking figures in business and politics, along with their wives. She had thrived in this circle since she was young, relying on her stunning face and an incredibly sharp mind to claw her way up from the bottom. Nowadays, she was married to a sixty-something wealthy businessman, her name officially on his household registration, leading a relatively fulfilling life.
Sister Qian took a slow sip of her coffee and said: "The Lin family, eh? I knew her mother." She narrowed her eyes, reminiscing: "A ruthless character. A mistress who climbed to the top. Even though Mr. Lin kept women outside, he never intended to abandon his legal wife. Back then, Mr. Lin's original wife was ill, though not critically, yet suddenly, she was just... gone."
"Her methods were quite vicious. As for her daughter, the apple didn't fall far from the tree; she's no pushover either."
As it turned out, the original fiancée engaged to Christian wasn't Crystal, but another girl from the Lin family—her cousin. On the eve of the engagement, the girl suddenly suffered an unexpected car accident that resulted in an amputation. Heartbroken and dispirited, she took the initiative to call off the marriage.
Half a year later, Crystal became Christian's fiancée.
The incident caused quite a stir at the time, with many whispering behind their backs.
Sister Qian's smile was chilling: "They called it an accident, but how many accidents can there truly be?"
Christian had never mentioned this to me. After all, it was a political marriage between two families with no emotional foundation; to him, perhaps it made no difference whom he married.
When we parted, Sister Qian cautioned me: "Since you've crossed paths, keep your guard up in the future. Some people look kind, but beneath the surface, they harbor the hearts of scorpions. Don't be fooled. You've always been clever, so I'm not worried."
Sister Qian was half my benefactor; if not for her, I never would have encountered Christian.
Back then, my family had just collapsed, my parents were gone, and my relatives stood by with cold, indifferent eyes. At sixteen, I had seen the full depth of the world's coldness. Just as I was about to end up on the streets, it was Sister Qian who took me in. She had many beautiful girls under her wing. Sister Qian lifted my chin, stared at me for a full five minutes, and remarked: "You are different from them. Your eyes are clear."
Sister Qian didn't house freeloaders. A month later, she had me wear an incredibly short skirt and took me to a banquet. I hid half my body behind her, clutching the hem of my dress, watching her affectionately hook her arm through a forty-something man's. She glanced back at me, introducing me to him: "Mr. Liu, look, a genuine virgin."
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