Adopting Myself from the Young Heiress - Chapter 23

When Yan Ciwei was in college, she brought An Chixu to this apartment. Over the next six years, they gradually transformed it into their home.

If An Chixu missed Yan Ciwei, she could go to the storage room and find the Spring Festival couplets and paper-cut window decorations they had hung together, the broken toys from their first year, the bedsheets they bought at the furniture market on weekends, the water glasses they shared… all the remnants of their shared life.

An Chixu hadn’t gotten rid of these things; she had simply stuffed them haphazardly into the storage room, much like her feelings for Yan Ciwei, which she still hadn’t fully sorted out to this day.

In the past, they would clean out the storage room together at the end of each semester, reminiscing over the old items inside.

Now, all that remained was nostalgia.

Yan Ciwei still remembered that winter break during their junior year.

As finals approached and the weather turned cold, she pulled a vintage-style coat from the storage room. It happened to be in vogue that season, so she had An Chixu try it on.

An Chixu was no longer as petite as she had been in high school; Yan Ciwei had taken good care of her. The coat fit her perfectly.

Wearing the coat, An Chixu took out the gloves they had knitted together and put them on Yan Ciwei’s hands.

“I’ve warmed your hands,” An Chixu said, holding Yan Ciwei’s hand as they strolled across campus in matching outfits.

“Good girl, Tuantuan. I love you too,” Yan Ciwei replied, casually tucking her hand into An Chixu’s coat pocket.

People greeted Yan Ciwei frequently as they passed, then discreetly watched them walk by.

Yan Ciwei had joined the Student Council and knew people from all grade levels.

Just like in high school, far more people recognized her than she recognized them.

An Chixu, on the other hand, had virtually no social life. Apart from her assigned group members in class and her three roommates, she knew no one else.

Her phone contacts still had fewer university entries than high school ones.

“Who’s that again?” An Chixu asked, unbothered. After all, she had Yan Ciwei—so capable and popular.

All she needed to do was hold Yan Ciwei’s arm and keep walking forward.

“This year’s new member of the publicity department. A freshman majoring in journalism,” Yan Ciwei explained, introducing An Chixu to everyone they met.

“Oh, Tuantuan, I can’t make it to class this afternoon. Could you sign me in?” Yan Ciwei stopped walking as they reached the academic building.

“Ah… Is something wrong?” An Chixu’s disappointment was palpable.

Yan Ciwei’s eyes were almost transparent before An Chixu, brimming with emotions: anxiety, reluctance, and trembling affection.

“It’s a family matter. I’ll be back as soon as class is over,” Yan Ciwei said, removing her gloves and stroking An Chixu’s cheek.

The ticklish sensation slid from An Chixu’s cheek down her neck. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Yan Ciwei.

“That means we’ll be apart for three hours,” she murmured. “That’s so long. We even go to the bathroom together. Why can’t I come with you?”

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, my dear. I’ve booked a restaurant. I’ll pick you up right after class,” Yan Ciwei said, her gaze as gentle as an autumn breeze.

Her eyes, like autumn dew, lingered on An Chixu, while her words, like autumn rain, settled in An Chixu’s heart.

“I’ll miss you so much. So, so much,” An Chixu mumbled, her voice muffled.

Though she wore Yan Ciwei’s coat, her skin felt as cold and aching as if it had been drenched in autumn rain.

“…Me too. Wait for me,” Yan Ciwei replied, reluctantly squeezing An Chixu’s hand before leaving.

Only after turning away did Yan Ciwei dare reveal the complex anxiety churning within her.

An Chixu entered the classroom alone and settled into a corner seat.

Being separated from Yan Ciwei left a hollow ache in her chest, as if a piece of her had been carved out, leaving a chilly emptiness that throbbed faintly.

She turned her head, instinctively reaching for Yan Ciwei’s embrace, only to see a few vaguely familiar classmates.

Her team leader and the remaining members sat down beside her. This class was for discussing their group project.

“Hey,” the team leader greeted, a bit too familiar.

An Chixu nodded, her hand closing around empty air where Yan Ciwei’s hand had been. She clenched her fist, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple.

“Is your girlfriend skipping class today?” Everyone knew An Chixu was Yan Ciwei’s girlfriend.

Thanks to Yan Ciwei’s fame, they were a well-known couple on campus.

People often spotted Yan Ciwei holding An Chixu’s hand or An Chixu visiting Yan Ciwei at the Student Council.

Many had tried to steal An Chixu away, but her narrow social circle meant she remained blissfully unaware of these attempts.

“She’s busy,” An Chixu replied, her nervousness making her unusually quiet.

Seeing she wasn’t inclined to elaborate, the team leader simply nodded.

During the break, the team leader leaned closer to An Chixu.

“Look at this,” she said, showing a series of photos on her phone.

An Chixu glanced at the screen and froze, involuntarily leaning closer until her eyes nearly pressed against the glass.

She saw Yan Ciwei.

If she frequented online forums, she would have known that posts about people spotting Yan Ciwei appeared every few days.

This was the first time she’d seen Yan Ciwei in someone else’s photo.

Her girlfriend, Yan Ciwei, appeared in someone else’s photo, on someone else’s phone.

In the photo, Yan Ciwei was having afternoon tea at a restaurant with someone An Chixu had never seen before.

“This is the first time I’ve seen her alone with someone else. Are you sure she’s busy?”

Under normal circumstances, Team Leader An wouldn’t risk telling An Chixu this. He just found the way the two women interacted a bit odd. An Chixu was his team member, highly capable but somewhat introverted.

Such a personality could easily be taken advantage of, especially since Yan Ciwei was so popular. Without careful attention, An Chixu would inevitably find herself in a subordinate position in their relationship.

And here it was. An Chixu clearly had no idea Yan Ciwei was out having a meal—afternoon tea, no less—with a stranger.

It took An Chixu a full second to realize Team Leader An was implying Yan Ciwei might be cheating.

She frowned, a flicker of anger rising within her.

“Yes, I’m sure.” It was just a meal.

Yan Ciwei had many friends; this was perfectly normal… even if she hadn’t invited An Chixu along today.

Even upon seeing the photo, An Chixu didn’t immediately suspect Yan Ciwei of infidelity. At most, she felt a pang of jealousy, a longing for Yan Ciwei.

In this world, Yan Ciwei was the only person whose love she could be certain of.

Yan Ciwei would never do something like that.

“There’s nothing intimate in the picture, and you’re not even close to her, right? Don’t think so much about her.”

Even when An Chixu was angry at others for presuming about Yan Ciwei, her voice remained soft, like a ball of cotton, gentle to the ear.

“But you weren’t there, were you?” Team Leader An raised an eyebrow, unsure how to comfort her.

“She told me about it,” An Chixu said, left with no other choice.

“…Alright. Just be careful, okay? Lots of people are interested in Yan Ciwei.” Team Leader An reluctantly put his phone away, still talking.

“Lots of people?” An Chixu repeated slowly.

She realized she hadn’t paid much attention to Yan Ciwei’s social circle. Yan Ciwei rarely spoke about it either.

They spent nearly every moment together—23.9 out of 24 hours a day.

Yan Ciwei brought her along for everything, even Student Council meetings, where she would wait outside the door.

“Seriously, you didn’t know? Just look at our class.” Team Leader An leaned closer, pointing to several students scrolling on their phones. “It’s a good thing you keep such a close eye on her. They have to rack their brains just to confess.”

An Chixu smiled, no longer bothered by the team leader’s earlier suggestion that Yan Ciwei might be cheating. “So, she wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re the same, sticking so close you barely have a life of your own anymore,” Team Leader An clicked his tongue, realizing he’d been misled by the forum.

Yan Ciwei barely had time to breathe, let alone cheat. She practically wanted to carry An Chixu around everywhere, turning her into a doll to keep close.

They even seemed to have matching handmade cloth dolls, often seen hanging from their bags.

“My life is her,” An Chixu said, her voice soft, a wistful smile playing on her lips. She glanced at her phone and saw a message from Yan Ciwei:

Finished. Coming to find you now.

The message was accompanied by a “love you” emoji.

True to her word, Yan Ciwei appeared at the classroom door after class.

An Chixu glanced back and noticed that the students Team Leader An had mentioned did indeed look unusually flustered.

“Sister,” An Chixu said, putting Yan Ciwei’s gloves back on, ending their rare and brief separation.

“I went to see my cousin,” Yan Ciwei explained, unaware that An Chixu had seen the forum photos.

So there was nothing to worry about. An Chixu tightened her grip, pressing close enough to almost touch Yan Ciwei’s back. “Cousin?”

“My mom’s sister’s child. She’s about two years older than me,” Yan Ciwei said, her heart stirring at the thought of those eyes so like her mother’s.

“My aunt passed away young, from a severe illness. That left my cousin without anyone to care for her, and for a while, my mother visited her house very frequently,” Yan Ciwei said softly, her tone detached.

An Chixu tilted her head, her brow furrowing.

“Tuantuan, you’re still the best,” Yan Ciwei said, knowing from An Chixu’s expression that she had understood her meaning.

Her mother had always favored her cousin.

Perhaps out of longing and guilt for her late aunt, or simply because she preferred her cousin’s personality.

Or perhaps, Yan Ciwei had never been the child her mother had hoped for.

“Then why did she come to see you? To brag?” An Chixu turned away, the braids Yan Ciwei had styled that morning bouncing with her anger.

Yan Ciwei remembered how reluctant An Chixu had been to get her hair done, complaining that the braids looked childish, like a grade-schooler’s. It had taken several reassurances before An Chixu finally sat still.

Then Yan Ciwei had dressed her in this porcelain doll-like outfit.

So adorable, Yan Ciwei thought, satisfied with her styling.

“I guess so,” she said, tugging gently on An Chixu’s braid.

“She’s taken over a very important subsidiary,” Yan Ciwei sighed, unsure how to express her frustration.

She was at a disadvantage because of her age, her lack of ambition, and her mother’s undivided attention…

“What should we do then?” An Chixu’s emotions were much more pronounced around Yan Ciwei, like a porcelain doll come to life.

She kicked at stones and glanced at Yan Ciwei, even playfully stomping on fallen autumn leaves.

“It doesn’t matter. I have Tuantuan, and that’s enough,” Yan Ciwei said, gazing at her lover—the little cat she had secretly raised for so long.

Seeing An Chixu’s endearing demeanor, the irritation in her heart faded, replaced by a sense of peace.

As long as An Chixu was by her side, she didn’t need the power that had been snatched away, her cousin’s concern, or her mother’s love.

She had found another source of affection.

Five years later, Yan Ciwei’s love for her had locked its doors.

Yan Ciwei’s hand trembled as she pressed it against the door lock, her heart feeling as if it had been shocked multiple times, the pain searing.

They had been separated for two years, but only now did Yan Ciwei truly grasp the reality of their separation.

She had witnessed An Chixu give the love that should have been hers to another creature—even if it was just a cat.

An Chixu was no longer her privately kept kitten, willing to argue with her over such matters and drive her away.

Why? Yan Ciwei wondered. It’s just a pet. Am I not more important than a pet?

Unable to comprehend, she finally released her grip, not daring to test whether An Chixu had changed the locks, revoked her fingerprint access, or altered the password.

Leaning against the door, head bowed low, her breathing was almost deathly still.

The night was clear and moonlit, the moonlight piercingly bright.

Yan Ciwei shed a single tear before leaving.

Her footsteps were so light they didn’t trigger the motion-sensor lights.

The next day, after feeding Orange and cleaning his litter box, An Chixu sat at the dining table, lost in thought.

She remained in her daze until her alarm rang, jolting her into rushing out of the house. As she hurried through the doorway, she caught a lingering scent of geranium and quickened her pace.

The morning team meeting was An Chixu’s responsibility to chair. She was still adjusting to her role as team leader, knowing that such transitions take time.

“Team Leader An, has the contract for this project been signed yet?” a team member questioned, raising concerns about the variety show planning project.

Her concerns echoed An Chixu’s. “I don’t think our team can stand out among so many planning groups. If we mess up, we’ll become the scapegoats.”

The ten members of the team all turned their eyes to An Chixu, curious about how she would handle the situation.

This task had clearly been assigned by their superiors, most likely Little President Yan Ciwei herself. The team members, unwilling to defy Little President Yan, were counting on An Chixu to speak up for them.

“Does anyone else have objections?” An Chixu asked, scanning the room without immediately responding.

She caught a shadow outside the conference room in her peripheral vision but resisted the urge to investigate.

“Um… I also think this project is too risky,” someone spoke up. “The last season was a huge hit, with rave reviews online. But this season’s cast seems more focused on marketing. Several of them have conflicts, and they don’t even look like they know how to survive. If anything goes wrong, we’ll be in deep trouble.”

“Exactly! Other variety shows are one thing, but survival shows are terrifying. The last season succeeded because the veteran artists were grounded, resilient, and willing to push themselves. But this season’s cast… well, take Yang Xu, for example. Her public persona is that of a delicate, pampered flower.”

“Wait, we’re managing Yang Xu?”

“Didn’t you hear yesterday? We’re supposed to monitor Yang Xu’s image. That’s probably why we were called in to fill the numbers on this show…”

An Chixu sat in the head seat, listening to their discussion without showing any particular emotion.

It wasn’t until the conference room grew noisy that An Chixu finally spoke.

She showed no anger, her gaze wasn’t particularly stern, and her posture remained relaxed. She simply tapped the table.

“Alright,” she said. The single word silenced the entire group.

“Aren’t the concerns you’re all raising precisely the points the planning team should be addressing? Safety, conflict content, and audience appeal. No planning team is born knowing how to structure a show’s flow; everyone has to learn. Participating in a variety show of this caliber is an excellent learning opportunity.”

“Moreover,” An Chixu raised her hand, gesturing a number as some team members still seemed restless.

“Regardless of whether the proposal succeeds or gets adopted, the bonus each of you will receive for completing this project is this amount.”

The ten team members fell into stunned silence. As junior planners and assistants, their salaries were relatively low for S City standards. The base bonus of 50,000 yuan didn’t even include the profit-sharing portion. The actual amount they’d receive would likely be much higher, as the profits from a blockbuster variety show could be substantial.

“Of course, if we work hard, the final amount could easily triple, right?” An Chixu had spent two years working her way up from the bottom. Nothing motivated her peers more than money.

“Meeting adjourned. Everyone, start preparing. He Yuyan, get ready to accompany me to meet Yang Xu this afternoon.” He Yuyan was the one who had informed An Chixu about the chairman’s arrival yesterday.

“Team Leader An, you were amazing this morning,” He Yuyan said, following An Chixu closely and continuing her efforts to impress.

“Really? I just figured talking about bonuses was more effective than promising good work. Who doesn’t want a bonus?” An Chixu replied, flipping through the documents Yang Xu’s predecessor had given her and making notes.

“It’s not just that. I mean your attitude. I always thought you were the slow, reserved type—quiet, focused on your own work. But as team leader, you’re so calm and composed, completely different from Tang Shu’s explosive temper. It’s so much easier to follow your instructions.”

He Yuyan seemed genuinely impressed, her admiration sincere. Her dislike for Tang Shu was undeniable; who in their team hadn’t been suppressed by him? Only the two who secretly gave him gifts had thrived.

An Chixu decided to take He Yuyan’s praise at face value. She herself didn’t feel particularly confident and hadn’t realized she’d appeared so calm earlier. So composed, almost human.

“Are you seeing me through rose-tinted glasses? If you mess up, I’ll still scold you, you know?” An Chixu chuckled.

He Yuyan felt an even stronger sense of déjà vu and fell silent.

“Let’s go. We need to figure out what she’s really like before planning the next steps.”

“Okay,” He Yuyan said, scratching her head. Who did An Chixu remind her of?

Yang Xu had arranged the meeting at the makeup room of a variety show.

An Chixu led He Yuyan into the venue. As they approached the dressing room entrance, they encountered a figure.

A figure that had lingered outside the conference room earlier, now finally materializing.

It was the one An Chixu knew best.

An Chixu gazed at Yan Ciwei without meeting her eyes.

Yan Ciwei was leaning against a wall, conversing with a staff member.

As An Chixu took a step forward, Yan Ciwei suddenly turned her head.

Yan Ciwei looked into An Chixu’s eyes.

There was only a profound silence there, as deep as an abyss.

Yan Ciwei took a step forward.

An Chixu froze in place, and He Yuyan, who was following her, also stopped.

The three of them stood motionless, not even blinking. Yan Ciwei stared intently at An Chixu.

An Chixu lowered her gaze, sighing inwardly.

This isn’t surprising, is it?

Yan Ciwei would always seek her out, making the same mistakes again and again.

Yet Yan Ciwei didn’t stop in front of An Chixu.

She shifted slightly to the side, avoiding An Chixu while keeping her eyes fixed behind her.

An Chixu couldn’t help but turn around, only to see Pei Luochen standing behind her.

So I was just being presumptuous.

She tugged He Yuyan aside to make way.

He Yuyan suddenly snapped out of her daze.

She finally remembered who An Chixu had reminded her of during the meeting.

Yan Ciwei.