Adopting Myself from the Young Heiress - Chapter 27

During the summer between her senior year of high school and her first year of college, An Chixu moved to S City with Yan Ciwei.

They hadn’t yet decided where An Chixu would live after school started. Considering the affordable dormitory fees, she figured she’d likely stay there. One morning, armed with thorough research, she ventured out alone to buy daily necessities.

To save money, An Chixu chose a large supermarket in the outskirts of S City, planning to compare prices at multiple stores. As long as it was functional, she never fussed over such things.

The suburban supermarket proved difficult to reach. After two subway transfers and two bus rides, An Chixu was already sweating lightly as she waited for the third bus.

It was nearly noon. She glanced up at the rare clear sky over S City and sighed inwardly.

I really picked the worst time for this.

But choosing another time would mean troubling Yan Ciwei. Yan Ciwei was at driving school in the morning, conveniently out of the house.

An Chixu wanted to finish her shopping quickly and return so they could watch dramas together in the afternoon.

The soon-to-be eighteen-year-old girl was eager to grow up. She stepped onto the third bus, got off at the stop indicated in her research, and found herself in a desolate, overgrown area.

Weeds grew everywhere, and the buildings looked like ruins from the last century, covered in brownish-yellow corrosion and overgrown with withered vines.

It was hard to believe such a place still existed in S City. An Chixu pressed her hand to her chest, trying to calm her unease.

Her impression of S City was one of skyscrapers, a concrete jungle, and glass canvases.

This place, however, reminded her of the narrow alleys in her hometown. If she walked just a few dozen meters further, she could find buildings almost identical to these.

An Chixu took a tentative step forward, her heart pounding.

The damp, muddy ground splashed onto her shoe, staining the brand-new pair Yan Ciwei had just bought her.

I’ll have to wash them when I get home…

An Chixu hoped Yan Ciwei wouldn’t be angry with her.

She quietly turned on her new phone—another graduation gift from Yan Ciwei—and sent Yan Ciwei her itinerary.

The phone was almost out of battery. An Chixu rarely used it; Yan Ciwei was her only contact, and they were usually together, so she only turned it on once a week. She’d forgotten to charge it.

It should be fine, right?

An Chixu clutched the wallet in her pocket, the money a rare act of conscience from her mother and stepmother. She needed it to pay for her dorm fees when school started.

An Chixu secretly unfolded the bills, counted them, and took another step forward.

The hypermarket was getting closer. She could hear familiar hawking cries, hoarse voices booming from old loudspeakers in an endless loop.

This was a familiar environment. When she was five or six, her mother used to take her shopping here, with her other mother by their side.

An Chixu always had a wonderful time, even though she was a quiet and well-behaved child who never fussed about buying anything.

The family’s rare moments of warmth were all preserved within the hypermarket.

Calming her mind, An Chixu slowly entered the hypermarket to browse.

Just as she finished selecting a bedsheet, the sky turned overcast.

The hypermarket had a transparent dome, but the rain had stained it a murky brown. An Chixu tilted her head back, listening to the pitter-patter of raindrops.

She hadn’t brought an umbrella. Her hometown rarely experienced overcast or rainy weather—or rather, their rainy season occurred in autumn and winter.

She’d forgotten she was in S City, where sudden downpours were common at this time of year.

Still, these showers rarely lasted long. An Chixu continued selecting other items, paying it no mind.

The sky grew completely dark, as if it were already evening. The rain intensified, becoming audible even inside the hypermarket.

An Chixu slowly walked out, carrying a large bag. The mall was vast, divided into several sections. She had no idea how long she’d been wandering around. By the time she finished shopping and checked her phone, it was dead, the screen black.

Standing at the entrance, An Chixu stared blankly at the torrential rain.

Which entrance did I come in through?

Where’s the bus stop?

She searched for so long that she grew weak from hunger, yet she couldn’t find the entrance she’d used.

An Chixu didn’t want to be so undignified, but she couldn’t stand any longer. She had no choice but to set her bag down and sit on the floor.

She stared blankly at the sky through the nearest entrance, the one that vaguely matched her memory of where she’d come in.

She regretted coming out alone.

She missed Yan Ciwei.

She was like a helpless kitten, incapable of taking care of herself. She shouldn’t have wandered off without her owner.

This was the punishment she deserved.

“Weiwei…” An Chixu murmured, holding her dead phone, her head bowed.

She seemed to shrink back into the frail, high school version of herself, lost in the bustling mall, unnoticed by anyone.

How long had passed?

Suddenly, a damp presence loomed before her.

Panting, agitated, the wet figure splashed An Chixu’s face.

She raised her eyebrows and saw the person she had been longing for, her only connection to the world.

Standing before her, Yan Ciwei was breathing heavily, drenched from head to toe and utterly disheveled.

His usually meticulously combed hair clung to his face and hung limply down his back.

The bow tie An Chixu had helped him tie that morning was now soaked black, half-undone.

His shirt clung to his torso, semi-transparent and stained with muddy water. The hems of his trousers were filthy beyond recognition. The shoes they had bought together now looked identical—a sorry sight.

“Tuantuan,” Yan Ciwei called out, his voice still steady and gentle, even as his chest heaved and his eyes burned with a dark intensity.

“I’ve found you.” Yan Ciwei reached out and pulled his inadvertently escaped lover to her feet.

An Chixu threw herself into Yan Ciwei’s arms, breathing deeply in the comforting warmth amidst the chilling dampness.

It was as if she truly could wander aimlessly through the world, living recklessly and without a care.

Because there would always be someone to find her.

Yan Ciwei wasn’t in the park.

Having begun to resent An Chixu and target her, how could she possibly follow An Chixu and secretly reveal subtle affection?

Yan Ciwei wouldn’t come looking for her anymore.

An Chixu gripped her phone tightly, meeting He Yuyan’s gaze, which was filled with dependence. She held her breath.

“We have to give in,” she said. She couldn’t drag another person into her stubbornness.

An Chixu prepared to call Zhuguang TV.

A lead planner of a planning team couldn’t even find her office.

An Chixu could imagine how their team would be looked down upon after this call.

But what choice did they have? They were indeed the easiest to bully, the most vulnerable to manipulation, and the most likely to be scapegoated.

It was inevitable. Accept it first, take a step back, and then figure out how to reclaim their position later.

He Yuyan lowered her head as well. She feared her colleagues wouldn’t be pleased, especially since some team members had already been unhappy about taking on this program.

That’s just how work is. No one cares about your hardships.

Just like yesterday’s incident in the conference room. If An Chixu hadn’t resolved it so quickly, Yan Ciwei might have pursued the matter further. Instead, he even offered overtime pay to appease everyone.

Someone was bound to cause trouble today, refusing to cooperate properly.

Yet He Yuyan couldn’t think of a better solution. They had already searched extensively and asked everyone they could find. They couldn’t possibly skip the meeting, could they?

An Chixu had already opened the call interface.

The number she had entered the day she was sick was still there.

Her finger slipped, accidentally tapping the dial button.

“…!” Just as she was about to hang up, the call connected.

“Tuantuan?” Yan Ciwei’s voice came through faintly from the other end.

“Wrong number,” An Chixu said, moving further away from He Yuyan. She pressed the phone tightly to her ear, turned her back to He Yuyan, and lowered the volume.

“Wait, Tuantuan,” Yan Ciwei said, her voice quickening.

Hearing the unusual noises on the other end, An Chixu didn’t hang up.

Yan Ciwei seemed to be in a very noisy place, possibly with alarms blaring.

Had something happened to her?

“What’s wrong? You didn’t come to work today…” An Chixu remembered going to Yan Ciwei’s office earlier to submit her overtime request and finding her absent.

Listening more closely to the sounds on Yan Ciwei’s end, she recalled the news she had seen that morning.

“You… you weren’t drowned, were you? Trapped in a tunnel? Are you okay?” An Chixu’s voice quickened, her volume rising uncontrollably.

She instinctively grabbed her bag, ready to rush out. Yan Ciwei was in trouble; she had to find her.

A soft chuckle reached her ear.

Throughout their conversation, Yan Ciwei’s voice had sounded distant, as if she were hundreds of miles away, her words muffled and indistinct, like they were coming through a thick fog.

But this laugh sounded as if Yan Ciwei were right behind her, her arms wrapped around An Chixu’s waist, her cheek pressed against her shoulder, her breath warm against her ear.

“I’m fine,” Yan Ciwei said, leaning against her wrecked car, her body finally relaxing after a night of tension.

“Tuantuan, you’re heading to Zhuguang TV today, right? At this hour… you haven’t found the building yet?” Even without being there, Yan Ciwei could guess what An Chixu was going through.

An Chixu remained silent, confirming Yan Ciwei’s suspicions.

“That building is a bit tricky to find. Tuantuan, tell me about the landmarks around you.”

An Chixu held her breath.

She didn’t know what to think.

But her mouth moved before her mind could catch up, describing the building in front of her.

“You’re facing Xinhong Media. Walk fifty meters forward, turn right, then walk another hundred meters. When you see a building with a purple sign, turn right again and walk seventy meters. The gatekeeper at Zhuguang TV’s building is a young woman with curly pigtails—she’s easy to spot. If she’s been bribed, just mention my name.”

An Chixu only knew that as she listened to Yan Ciwei’s clear instructions, telling her exactly what to do, a voice echoed in her heart:

Sister is here.

Yan Ciwei is still here.

“…Thank you. Are you really okay?” A sense of emptiness washed over her, a comfortable solitude, a refreshing absence of everything.

An Chixu looked up and ahead, as if she could already see the purple sign.

“I’m fine. Go to your meeting. Don’t miss me too much,” Yan Ciwei’s voice sounded perfectly normal, even teasing.

“I’m not missing you,” An Chixu retorted, her eyelid twitching, and hung up.

“Let’s go. I got directions,” she said, tucking her phone into her pocket and leading He Yuyan. In just five minutes, they were inside Zhuguang TV’s building.

They had been here once before. The gatekeeper with the curly pigtails had initially refused them entry, but after hearing Yan Ciwei’s name, she quickly let them through.

Settling into the conference room, An Chixu let out a sigh of relief.

Even with this, they weren’t the last to arrive. She was grateful she had come to the park nearly two hours early today to avoid Yan Ciwei.

This season of the survival reality show was titled Storm Camp. Six planning teams were responsible for the program, but only five had arrived by the start of the meeting.

An Chixu estimated that the largest planning team was targeting all the others indiscriminately. Still, her team wasn’t the unluckiest.

Today wasn’t yet the time for the teams to clash; the atmosphere remained relatively relaxed.

An Chixu familiarized herself with the attendees and exchanged contact information with the lead planner of the adjacent team.

The show’s overall director switched to a PowerPoint slide and began explaining, tapping the projection screen. “You all understand the premise of this reality show, right? With so many participants, we need to create explosive moments around them.”

“The content format is up to you. We’ve only secured three locations so far. The investors want to see the results of the first episode before committing to the rest. What we can offer you are a canyon forest in central China, nearly uninhabited suburban ruins, and a deserted island in the ocean.”

“Although we’re using both live streaming and editing, we want to avoid any broadcasting mishaps during the live segments. Every guest’s reaction needs to be pre-determined, including who wins and who loses… We want to make it a show with conflict, intrigue, and scheming—you know, like that… that something-something Chronicles…”

Someone in the audience chimed in, “Ah, right, that one! Anyway, just make sure the character relationships are well-written.”

The head producer, an older woman who wasn’t the same one from the first season, rambled on. An Chixu’s head began to ache. This producer was utterly unprofessional, spouting vague ideas without getting to the point—the most difficult kind of client.

An Chixu had assumed this season would follow the previous one’s focus on content, allowing guests greater creative freedom. Instead, the head producer only wanted to turn it into a viral sensation.

Clutching the content template and requirements, An Chixu left the meeting room with a splitting headache.

She thought she’d spotted Yan Zhaoyin earlier. It seemed this variety show was also related to the division of power between Rian Group and Yan Zhaoyin’s faction.

“This is a real headache,” An Chixu couldn’t help but mutter.

He Yuyan, who was trailing behind her, kept her head down like a quail, daring to think but not to speak.

Saying it aloud would make it sound like Yan Ciwei was setting them up.

The more she looked at the project, the less sense it made. Why would Yan Ciwei entrust such a high-risk venture to them? Could it be that she truly harbored a grudge against An Chixu?

Should I just run away now?

Lost in thought, the two women got into the car.

An Chixu glanced at her phone, saw something, and reopened the car door.

“Sister An?” He Yuyan asked, thinking something had gone wrong again and preparing to follow her out.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be back later. I have some personal matters to attend to,” An Chixu said, pushing He Yuyan back into the car and calling another ride for herself.

After settling in, she opened her phone and read aloud the address Yan Ciwei had sent her:

A hospital.