A Good Secret

Before Nan Changgeng could ask again, Yu Mao gave her the reason directly.

“Because Changgeng makes me think of snow and winter.”

“…I see.”

Her brain’s associative function was working very well. That was good.

Nan Changgeng kept a faint smile on her face, dignified as an elder, never letting her pleasant mood tip into a loss of composure.

By the time the movie ended, they were also nearing their destination; there was less than half an hour left in the car.

This kind of private, quiet time, when there was nothing else to do, was perfect for talking about certain things.

It also happened to be a good time to bring it up while the mood was good; that way, the other person’s ability to accept it would be a little stronger too.

“How much do you know about me?”

She asked out of the blue. Yu Mao froze for a moment, then lowered her gaze slightly.

“A lot, a lot. From the moment you quietly left the entertainment industry, I knew all the important things.”

Nan Changgeng’s expression didn’t change. She remained unhurried. “More specifically. Let me hear how much ‘a lot’ is.”

Yu Mao looked up, hesitation on her face. “Can I say it? Most of the things from the past are sad. I’m afraid it’ll affect your mood.”

“You’re worried about that? I thought you’d be worried about me settling accounts afterward.” She curved her lips, deliberately teasing her.

Yu Mao was still serious. “Being angry isn’t a good mood either, but it comes after sadness.”

Nan Changgeng raised her brows in surprise for a moment, then suddenly understood.

Indeed, that was exactly the sort of thought Yu Mao would have. What mattered most would never be what trouble she herself had suffered, but which emotion was better for Nan Changgeng by comparison.

She still wasn’t quite used to the fact that her own emotions were always placed first.

After a brief silence, she gave a soft laugh. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. I don’t really have the heart to be sad about the past now.”

That sort of mindset was like… after a poor person suddenly became rich, all they could think about was how to enjoy life properly; where would they have the time to feel sorry for their former poverty?

“Okay.” Yu Mao blinked; she judged that the words were sincere. But even if they had been false, she probably still wouldn’t have been able to refuse.

“I know that after your mother died, you saw the letter she left behind and fell into a long period of pain, and then developed some mental problems.” She stopped there, carefully watching the woman’s expression. Seeing no change in her face, she continued.

“Every time you decided to die, you set a timed message to Wen Yi, so I knew all of that…”

She had been worried she might touch on something painful for her, but in the end the one whose face went ugly was Yu Mao herself; the already bloodless little face went another shade paler.

Nan Changgeng’s throat tightened a little. She swallowed and asked in a low voice,

“Your teacher’s records said your condition was very bad in those years, and you were sent to the hospital several times. Was it because of this?”

“Yes.” Yu Mao couldn’t say anything else. She didn’t want to admit it; the outer corners of her brows drooped listlessly.

Even one more word seemed like it would lay another heavy burden on Changgeng. She should never have had to shoulder anyone’s life except her own.

Just as that thought came to her, she heard Nan Changgeng ask,

“During that period, didn’t you ever think about coming to see me, telling me your story, and letting me continue living for your sake? Even if there was an element of being bound together in that, at least I could keep living safely. Wasn’t that the most important thing to you?”

“No.” Yu Mao looked up. Her catlike black eyes filled with a sheen of tears; every word she spoke seemed to sink into the wall like iron nails. “The most important thing is your own will. No one’s death… can be forced, not even yours.”

“You should have the right to decide whether you live or die. I can’t let myself restrain that.”

To think that she could spare no more thought than asking whether Nan Changgeng could die for her, whether another person’s life could be used to bind her… To Yu Mao, that thought also meant betrayal and disloyalty.

Nan Changgeng stared at her in stunned silence; in a daze, she suddenly understood what it meant—absolute rationality was, in fact, no different from madness.

“Changgeng… if normal people encountered the same problem as me, what should they do?”

Tears rolled down her face, mixing with a faint, flickering hope.

“Can that be done? Can someone just be willing to hurt you, as long as it means you can live?”

Nan Changgeng was silent for a long time. Her gaze brushed lightly over her eyes, revealing a shallow trace of pity.

“What kind of answer do you want to hear? If I say yes, will you raise the importance of my life above my own will?”

“If that would make you suffer, then I can’t.” Yu Mao shook her head, but her face was full of torn-apart pain, like shattered glass ground into fragments; it was dazzlingly delicate, yet one glance was enough to make a person feel the pain.

She could neither advance nor retreat; she was trapped in place by the mountain named Nan Changgeng.

“Alright, don’t think any more about it.”

Nan Changgeng seemed to see how she had once collided between two dead ends, forcing herself into unconsciousness again and again until she ended up in the hospital. She could even vaguely imagine the pain in her mind; it was obvious how deep that despair must have been.

She casually pulled the handkerchief from Yu Mao’s pocket, restoring its original purpose as she wiped the tears from her face. The woman looked at her with gentle eyes; her throat tightened slightly as she forced back the heat rising in her own eyes, and her voice was soft.

“From now on, I won’t let you go through that again.

“Back then I was too young, too lacking in deep thought about life and myself; I hovered on the surface of life, and both love and pain came easily. When a storm hit, it was like being struck by a stone; in an instant I was bloodied and bruised. But things gradually got better later, didn’t they? I haven’t thought about ending my life for a long time. The problem is already gone; you no longer need to think about or feel which of those two answers is crueler.

“Although, to be honest, I still haven’t grown into something complete. The changes came too suddenly, and my repairs were rushed too; there wasn’t time to recover properly. In my hurry not to let myself get hurt, I had no choice but to wear armor to protect myself.

“Only the armor was too thick. It didn’t just block injury; it blocked warmth too, and the soft touch of kindness. Your arrival was truly an unexpected joy. With such a fierce fire, no defense can stop you.”

Her smile rippled like a breeze across water, gentle as waves.

After drying the tear stains on the girl’s face, she folded the tear-damp handkerchief into a small square and tucked it back into her pocket, then lightly patted her chest and said solemnly,

“Whatever the case, thank you for coming into my life.”

Yu Mao’s eyes trembled. She swallowed unconsciously, and tears welled again at the corners of her eyes, only to be forced back by sheer endurance.

She wasn’t very clear about what she was feeling; she only knew that it was abundant, as if her life were bursting with the vigor of an animal in its juvenile stage, or like spring plants growing wild and chaotic in every direction.

In the words of the woman’s “my specialness,” she came to perceive the “I.”

After being speechless for a long time, Yu Mao finally found her thoughts again, then remembered certain things.

“Your father was awful… Changgeng, I’m going to tell you a good secret.”

“What?”

The topic changed abruptly, yet Nan Changgeng’s heart gave a sudden jolt; a faint premonition rose up unbidden.

“He died.”

Yu Mao’s eyes were bright, as though the weight of a life ending was only worth describing in a cheerful, concise tone. “I destroyed his company. He had no money. He wandered abroad, got drunk, and was hit by a car and died.”

“… ”

Nan Changgeng took a deep breath, her head spinning with something close to oxygen deprivation.

An extreme sense of daze and unreality.

She had thought that after everything she had experienced today, there would never again be anything in this world that could leave her so shocked and out of composure. She had still underestimated Yu Mao’s ability to bring “surprises.”

“What did you do?” Her voice even sounded a little distant.

“I hacked his personal devices and the confidential files on his computer, monitored him for nearly half a year, and leaked all his major decisions to his business enemies. He thought there was a mole in the company and carried out several purges, but it was useless; it only made the environment even more unstable, and the other side seized the chance to swallow it up.”

Years of surveillance and revenge were condensed into a few brief sentences. The weight of a life extinguished was carried so lightly in that calm tone, only for most of it to be crushed to pieces by the trace of happiness in her voice.

Nan Changgeng stood dumbly silent for a long time.

Yu Mao’s hacking skills were even stronger than she had imagined. To invade the devices of an ordinary person might be easy for her, but to steal confidential files protected by layer upon layer of safeguards so effortlessly… perhaps that meticulous brain was comparable to another computer.

Of course… that wasn’t really where her attention should be. It was just that she needed to think about something easier to digest, to help herself steady a little.

Once she steadied, the corners of her mouth couldn’t help forming a cold smile.

What nobleman? Once they fell, didn’t they crash just as miserably as everyone else?

Besides, his family had already been in decline for who knew how many years. Only those men, despite the fact that that defective gene could never be passed on, were more obsessed than anyone else with the glory of their ancestors, and claimed noble blood for themselves.

By the time it reached his generation, they had finally accumulated some capital; business began to improve gradually, and so their ambitions swelled. They wanted to produce a daughter and use marriage to maneuver the family back into the noble circle.

The outcome now truly suited him.

A fallen nobleman who thought he could climb back to the top, only to end up on the streets, suffer a car accident, and die miserably; what an artistic story! Enough to please readers who loved tragedy, and that would be the last bit of value he left in this world.

Nan Changgeng let out a breath; there seemed to be a chill flowing through her chest, yet she felt incomparably refreshed.

What she had feared, hated, and detested in the past; all the gray snakes that had coiled through her life and refused to leave—now it was as if a thin layer of ice overhead had suddenly shattered, allowing her at last to see the clear sky and the sun.

With her heart lightened, her attention returned to Yu Mao.

“You just went and took revenge for me directly. Weren’t you worried that I might actually not want anything to happen to him?”

She was curious whether, at that time, Yu Mao’s personal hatred for him had already surpassed her concern for Nan Changgeng herself.

“He threatened your safety. I was sure you wouldn’t be willing to marry him, so I had to make sure he had no way to come find you.” Yu Mao’s expression was calm. “If he lost his assets, then he wouldn’t have the ability to find you.”

“He came looking for me?” Nan Changgeng frowned in astonishment, then suddenly understood. “So that’s how it was. No wonder he kept sending me messages at first, then suddenly went quiet after less than two days…”

Back then her condition wasn’t good, and she hadn’t thought deeply about it. This marriage arrangement, which had been planned since the moment she was born, was so important to him—how could he have given it up so easily?”}