Adopting Myself from the Young Heiress - Chapter 11

During the summer after the college entrance exams, An Chixu moved into Yan Ciwei’s apartment.

Yan Ciwei had never revealed where she was from. Even at parent-teacher conferences, no one had ever seen her mother or her two moms.

Her aunt had always attended the conferences, and she was the one who drove Yan Ciwei to and from the exams.

An Chixu could only secretly guess that Yan Ciwei had a strained relationship with her family, just like her own with her two moms.

This shared experience fostered a sense of empathy in An Chixu. She cherished the moments when Yan Ciwei showed her vulnerability, embracing her and wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes beneath the broken streetlights on the school grounds.

However, An Chixu had also received some good news recently.

After a decade of bitter conflict, her mother and moms had finally signed the divorce agreement and were now dividing their assets.

With her impending adulthood, she no longer needed to agonize over which parent to choose.

She didn’t need them.

An Chixu lay sprawled on the sofa, watching Yan Ciwei’s figure moving busily in the kitchen.

Her gaze flickered, making the intense summer sunlight shimmer and fade, transforming Yan Ciwei into the most beautiful figure in the world.

As long as she had Yan Ciwei, nothing else mattered.

No matter who Yan Ciwei was.

At eighteen, An Chixu was naive and carefree, never considering the profound impact that differences in family background could have.

She hadn’t even bothered to inquire about Yan Ciwei’s true identity. Having just emerged from three years of grueling exam preparation, An Chixu didn’t grasp the immense significance of being the heir to the Rian Group.

She believed she would never need to know such things.

Yan Ciwei was her fairy tale, bringing her flowers, a carriage, and a magic wand.

An Chixu saw herself as Cinderella, lucky enough to ride in the carriage and lean on Yan Ciwei’s shoulder. When the clock struck midnight, all her worries would vanish like a lost glass slipper.

“Weiwei,” An Chixu would say, her heart swelling with joy at the mere mention of Yan Ciwei’s name. Moving into Yan Ciwei’s home brought her even greater happiness than finishing the college entrance exams.

“Dinner’s ready,” Yan Ciwei said, skillfully flipping the wok and plating the last dish.

“Thank you~” An Chixu scampered over like a well-trained kitten, eager to nuzzle her head against her owner’s leg.

An Chixu’s understanding, study, and imitation of intimacy all stemmed from Yan Ciwei.

She loved hugging Yan Ciwei from behind, whispering “Weiwei” affectionately in her ear, and pressing her geranium-scented hair against the nape of Yan Ciwei’s neck.

“Let me carry that,” An Chixu offered, unable to do much else, but her heart overflowed with love for Yan Ciwei.

When her fingers brushed Yan Ciwei’s fingertips, an electric current surged through An Chixu’s heart.

Even as they lay together that night, An Chixu could still feel the lingering touch from earlier that day.

It was the first time she had truly confronted her feelings.

Turning in the soft moonlight, she gazed at her sister beside her, who had been her constant companion for three years. Yan Ciwei’s breathing was even, her eyelashes frosted with the moon’s pale light.

Suddenly, An Chixu wanted to touch those eyelashes, to claim that icy, delicate beauty for herself.

She lay awake all night, wondering if they were like Cinderella and the princess in a fairy tale.

Love at first sight, the awakening of first love, a natural progression to confession and courtship.

Yet after three years together, they had never crossed the line into intimacy. An Chixu couldn’t decipher Yan Ciwei’s amber eyes, those clear, shallow pools always brimming with unspoken emotions.

An Chixu knew Yan Ciwei had already cycled through several girlfriends.

They were the same age. If Yan Ciwei liked her, wouldn’t she have given some hint by now?

Perhaps Yan Ciwei only saw her as a close friend.

The sweltering summer night made An Chixu hesitate to reach out.

In the darkness, a new emotion crept into her heart: self-doubt. It lingered until Yan Ciwei finally revealed more of her affection, only then did An Chixu dare to confess her own feelings.

Yan Ciwei had waited too long for that confession, so long that she had to take matters into her own hands, luring An Chixu step by step.

An Chixu entered the private room Shen Jibai had reserved.

Shen Jibai had arrived even earlier, pacing anxiously. When she saw An Chixu enter, her nervousness intensified, and she bit her lip hard.

An Chixu noticed a gift box tucked in the corner of the room, along with a few carefully selected roses on the table.

An Chixu sighed inwardly.

Having been sixteen herself, how could she not understand Shen Jibai’s feelings?

Pretending not to notice, An Chixu adjusted her smile and greeted Shen Jibai.

“Sister An,” Shen Jibai said, her initial nervousness quickly giving way to excitement, her eyes sparkling.

Even knowing that An Chixu might not reciprocate—their age gap was too wide, their relationship too complicated—Shen Jibai couldn’t help but be captivated.

That’s how love works: oblivious to the obstacles, your heart leaps at the mere sight of the person you adore.

An Chixu understood this all too well.

After their breakup, she wondered if the fact that her worries had overshadowed the joy of seeing Yan Ciwei meant she had already stopped loving her back then.

She knew the true face of love intimately and was equally sensitive to its decay.

“You still came,” Shen Jibai said, blinking, her eyes shimmering like stars.

“You said there might not be another chance. I trust you, so I had to come,” An Chixu replied, settling into her seat.

The two chatted casually for a while, mostly with Shen Jibai talking and An Chixu listening.

They talked about all sorts of things, including gossip about the team leader’s romantic relationships with other members.

An Chixu fell silent for a moment, feeling embarrassed for having once found Pei Luochen cute.

She realized she wasn’t the type to be drawn in by Pei Luochen’s carefully crafted persona.

Pei Luochen’s image had been created by their company’s most skilled image strategist.

As an industry insider, An Chixu found herself admiring this talented senior far more than Pei Luochen herself.

She had simply found Pei Luochen aesthetically pleasing and wanted to get closer to her.

But her character turned out to be… complicated, to say the least.

Holding her warm tea, An Chixu thought, If our conversation today were leaked, Pei Luochen would be finished.

The fans they had just won back would abandon her again.

After ordering their food, Shen Jibai had finished venting.

She glanced at An Chixu, who was lost in thought, and quietly reached for the gift box at her feet.

“Um, Sister An, I have something I want to say. Can I say it before we start eating?”

She looked up at An Chixu from a lower position, her upturned lashes brimming with affection.

“…Jibai, think this through carefully. I won’t give you the answer you want,” An Chixu warned one last time.

If Shen Jibai insisted on saying what she wanted, their relationship might become awkward afterward.

“I… I know…” Shen Jibai lowered her lashes.

She hadn’t realized An Chixu saw through her so clearly. But then again, she had never tried to hide her feelings.

Shen Jibai handed over the gift.

The shadow of the gift fell across the empty tablecloth.

An Chixu closed her eyes, gazing at the black-and-white pattern.

When she opened them, she looked at Shen Jibai and gently shook her head.

“I can’t accept this,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Shen Jibai bit her lip, her spirits sinking.

“Jibai, you’re still young,” An Chixu sighed, placing the gift on the table to free Shen Jibai’s trembling hands.

The girl’s hands were shaking violently.

“At your age, it’s hard to distinguish between genuine affection and feelings like admiration, fondness, or friendship,” An Chixu explained, having thought about this extensively.

She recalled scenes from dramas and novels, stories she had heard.

Ultimately, she thought of herself. When she was sixteen, someone had held her trembling hand and pulled her into their embrace.

That was love. But she didn’t want Shen Jibai to cling to this.

“Why does it matter?” Shen Jibai asked, her intuition sharper than An Chixu’s reserved nature.

What An Chixu had struggled to resolve, Shen Jibai had cut through with a single impulsive act.

“Even so, I can’t accept it.” It was a cruel rejection, and An Chixu softened her tone as much as possible.

Yet Shen Jibai still flinched.

An Chixu lowered her lashes, waiting for Shen Jibai to reach for her water glass.

Take a sip. It’ll help you calm down.

The server opened the private room door, and the dishes they had ordered began to arrive one by one.

After the first dish was served, Shen Jibai set down her water glass and asked, her head bowed, “I want to hear your reasons, Sister.”

An Chixu couldn’t help but fall into a daze. After a few seconds of composure, she spoke.

“I’m an adult. I’m almost ten years older than you, Jibai. Do you understand what that means?”

“It means I’ve walked ten more years of life than you. I’ve witnessed all the trivialities that come with growing up. But you’re still too young. You need to stumble and struggle on your own, to understand the pain and truths I’ve already grasped.”

“It means I have more experience. Not necessarily in everything, but at least I’ve lived more, and I understand better how to handle certain situations.”

“It means I’ll inevitably, under the guise of doing what’s best for you, impose my own beliefs on you. And because you’re young, sincere, and so fond of me, you’ll listen… I’ll be robbing you of your right to grow up on your own.”

An Chixu’s voice grew colder with each word.

It was as if she wasn’t speaking about her future with Shen Jibai, but about her own past.

“Especially since our relationship isn’t ordinary. I create your character, tell you what to do and say. You have to obey me, whether you want to or not. This inherent power imbalance means that even if you were an adult and we genuinely loved each other, we couldn’t start a relationship in this dynamic.”

Suppose, An Chixu thought, just suppose…

If she were truly a beast, she would disregard their differences and, taking advantage of Shen Jibai’s youth, charm, and affection, pursue a relationship.

But their ending—Shen Jibai’s future—would inevitably be far more difficult and painful than her own.

Besides, she didn’t even love Shen Jibai.

Shen Jibai would be trapped, forever sinking into what seemed like a sweet swamp.

“Why does love have anything to do with power?” Shen Jibai asked, confused.

An Chixu gazed at her quietly. Even at twenty, she hadn’t understood this concept.

“It’s like a teacher-student relationship,” An Chixu offered the most obvious example.

Shen Jibai seemed unconvinced. “But our relationship is just professional. You might not even be my character planner in the future.”

That was quite a bold statement.

An Chixu chuckled softly, observing Shen Jibai’s flushed cheeks, showing no sign of anger.

“I… I’ll tell you a story,” An Chixu said. Shen Jibai, at least sixteen years old, seemed much more vibrant than herself.

“I used to be like you, infatuated with someone far more accomplished than me,” An Chixu thought. How could she possibly describe Yan Ciwei?

Even now, as she recalled the past, Yan Ciwei remained a radiant presence in her heart.

The sixteen-year-old Yan Ciwei had been An Chixu’s savior. Every outstretched hand, every protective silhouette, sent tremors through An Chixu’s heart.

They had broken up.

Yet the most beautiful part of Yan Ciwei remained forever embedded within An Chixu.

Irretrievable, unforgettable, a source of eternal torment.

This was the quagmire An Chixu could never escape.

“She was wealthy, powerful, brilliant, and stunningly beautiful. I never understood why she chose me, this ugly duckling. All I knew was that she gradually took over every aspect of my life—from my clothes, food, and housing to my education and career…”

“I became a bird in her palm, her pet cat. She completely controlled me, and I could never leave her.”

An Chixu’s account was incomplete. How could a decade of history be summarized in a few words?

Besides, she had no desire to share her relationship with Yan Ciwei with anyone.

Whether out of shame or possessiveness, she knew Yan Ciwei had never treated anyone else this way. Just as she herself would reject any flirtation after their breakup. They might have parted, but a part of each of them remained buried within the other.

The bitterness of this truth was something An Chixu couldn’t even articulate. She could only swallow it whole, waiting for the bitter taste to slowly dissolve.

“And then my personality, my sense of self—everything that proved I was me—died the day I fell into her palm. Even now, it hasn’t recovered,” An Chixu concluded.

Strangely, there was no sadness in her eyes.

Shen Jibai was captivated by An Chixu’s brief story, desperate to know more about what she had experienced.

“…So, being controlled by her was painful?”

An Chixu had run away, they had broken up—these were all past events. Didn’t that prove that being controlled was a painful thing?

Shen Jibai felt a naive conflict stirring within her.

Even if it’s painful, I can endure it, she thought.

An Chixu’s eyes shifted, seeing through Shen Jibai’s thoughts.

How alike we are.

“Being controlled by her felt… wonderful,” An Chixu said with a smile.

A thin layer of tears welled in An Chixu’s eyes, the light reflecting off them like shimmering fish scales, tinged with bitterness.

Shen Jibai looked up, stunned.

“It felt so good to be controlled by her. I didn’t have to worry about life or the future—as long as she was there, that was enough. She was my whole world.”

An Chixu’s smile was like tasting the world’s sweetest candy, but her eyes were like unripe lemons, shattered by a sudden downpour.

“But… I want to be myself now.” An Chixu’s expression turned blank.

She became an empty shell, devoid of warmth, determination, and intelligence…

Everything that had drawn Shen Jibai to her was merely An Chixu’s clumsy imitation of Yan Ciwei.

No one would ever love the real her.

An Chixu wasn’t disappointed, only staring into Shen Jibai’s immature eyes.

Those eyes, filled with chaotic surprise, slowly pierced An Chixu’s numb heart.

The dishes were served.

An Chixu thought it was time to begin a new chapter.

“Sister An,” Shen Jibai suddenly spoke, startling An Chixu so badly she nearly dropped her chopsticks.

“Your… your ex… was it Little President Yan?” Shen Jibai’s voice trembled.

An Chixu nearly lost her composure, finally noticing where Shen Jibai was looking.

Her heart clenched, and she whipped around.

An Chixu met the gaze of that crimson tear mole.

Yan Ciwei stood behind her, dressed in a server’s uniform.

She had removed her mask.