After Transmigrating, I Joined a Dating Show with the Fake Heiress Actress - Chapter 36

Su Qingwan’s voice carried a hint of disappointment. “Qingyue, didn’t I make myself clear enough this morning?”

Su Qingyue paused, then forced a smile. “What did you say? That this studio isn’t yours alone?” She waved her hand agitatedly. “Yes, it’s not yours alone, but right now, you’re the only one who can bring in more resources. Or do you want us all to starve?”

She pointed at her phone. “You told me to ignore the online criticism, saying you deserved it. Don’t you realize that your silence has only fueled the online backlash?” She nodded with a cold laugh. “Two brands have already called to terminate their contracts, claiming your image has been tarnished.”

Hearing this, Su Qingwan frowned slightly. “There’s still room for negotiation before the official termination.”

Su Qingyue stepped closer, her eyes pleading. “Just post the Weibo message I drafted, and you can salvage your image. The online criticism will die down.”

Without hesitation, Su Qingwan shook her head. “No. Yu Meng is pressuring me, and I can’t kick her when she’s down.”

Su Qingyue sneered, pressed a hand to her forehead, and turned her back on Su Qingwan. Her sister’s stubbornness was driving her mad.

After a moment’s hesitation, Su Qingwan tried to reassure her. “No matter how we explain it, it’ll be wrong. We’re better off staying silent. In a few days, the uproar will naturally die down.”

Something in her words seemed to trigger Su Qingyue. She whirled around, glaring at Su Qingwan. “Die down? Do you really think it’ll just die down?” She took two steps forward, closing the distance. “You love sacrificing yourself for others, don’t you? Then sacrifice your interests one more time—for me, for our studio. Or do you honestly believe your silence will earn your adoptive parents’ forgiveness? Let me tell you, it’s impossible. They’ve already branded you as ungrateful. The moment you wavered, you abandoned their kindness.”

Su Qingwan pressed her lips together and shook her head. She opened her mouth to explain, but no sound came out.

“Look at you, making that innocent face again, as if I’ve misunderstood you,” Su Qingyue said, her lips curling into a slight smile. “But you’re far from innocent. You always prioritize others, shouldering every responsibility yourself. Take this studio, for example. You didn’t talk like this when we started. You said, ‘Since everyone chose me, I need to live up to their expectations.'”

She clapped her hands. “Now that you’re tired, you want to shed that responsibility,” she scoffed. “And you’re using the excuse that the studio isn’t just your creation. Do you still think you’re some kind of hero? Willing to sacrifice your own interests for loyalty and affection, just to stay with your adoptive parents? But what have you actually done for them? Money? Do they even need your money?”

Su Qingwan didn’t know how she managed to leave the studio. Her ears rang with her sister’s accusations and reproaches.

Was she really wrong?

Growing up in the countryside, not only her grandparents but everyone in the village had told her that only well-behaved, obedient children were liked.

What does it mean to be “sensible”? It means showing understanding and tolerance, being considerate, avoiding causing worry for adults, treating those around you well, facing difficulties alone, and not burdening your family.

She had always strived to do these things. Xu Mengjie once told her not to shoulder burdens alone and to always tell them if she felt wronged. Xu Mengjie also assured her that they were her support system, allowing her to be herself without fear, knowing they would handle any problems that arose.

She tried following Xu Mengjie’s advice, but when she saw the skeptical glances and heard the accusations, she began to doubt herself. Was she really in the wrong? she wondered. These were just minor issues—couldn’t she have just endured them? Was it really necessary to make such a fuss?

After she started keeping things to herself, those judgmental looks vanished. Teachers and elders alike praised her for being “sensible.”

At that point, she convinced herself that those so-called “wrongs” weren’t such a big deal after all.

But she never imagined that her sister would see her actions as foolish.

Self-sacrifice? she thought. Is she trying to call me a saintly fool?

Beep…

The continuous honking pulled Su Qingwan out of her thoughts. She glanced at the roadside, where a BMW had pulled up. As the window rolled down, Yao Yanhui’s face appeared before her.

“Best Actress Su, grace me with your presence?”

Su Qingwan looked around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. She realized with a start that she had walked this far alone. Fortunately, the passersby seemed to pay little attention to her.

After getting into the car, Yao Yanhui took her to a private restaurant.

On the open-air balcony, Su Qingwan gazed up at the gloomy sky, a nameless unease and confusion weighing on her heart.

Yao Yanhui, holding two bottles of plum wine, sat cross-legged beside her and offered one. “Here, let this ‘worry-banishing wine’ solve all your troubles.”

Su Qingwan hesitated, then reached out, popped the cap, and tilted the bottle to drink.

The tart wine did little to soothe her inner turmoil. She twisted the bottle, glanced at Yao Yanhui, who was still staring at the sky, and asked, “In your heart, do you think I’m just a foolish, self-righteous martyr?”

Yao Yanhui froze, turned her head, and asked, “Is that the truth?”

“The truth.”

After taking a large gulp of wine, Yao Yanhui noticed a voting thread: “The apocalypse has arrived. Starving and exhausted, you find a piece of bread. Suddenly, a child clinging to life begs you to give her the bread. Choose: A) Refuse and watch the child die; B) Agree.”

“Qingwan, what would you choose?”

Su Qingwan frowned, a hint of anxiety in her voice. “Agree?”

Yao Yanhui chuckled, rose from the floor, and leaned against the railing, gazing at the bustling crowd below. “What if I told you that was a survival tactic used by a mother and her child?”

Su Qingwan froze in place, stunned.

Yao Yanhui turned, leaning back against the railing. “In a life-or-death situation, prioritizing oneself is human nature. Some might accuse you of being cold-hearted, but with that bread, you could survive for at least a few more days. If you agree, you’d have to bear the risk I mentioned earlier. And if that risk materializes, far more people would call you foolish than cold-hearted.” She withdrew her gaze and glanced at Su Qingwan. “That’s true humanity.”

Her peripheral vision caught sight of the orange tree beside them, laden with fruit. “The fruits are growing well, aren’t they?”

Su Qingwan struggled to keep up with her train of thought. She glanced at the densely packed, slightly undersized oranges and nodded.

“Are you regretting their small size?” Yao Yanhui spread her hands. “But that’s the consequence of choosing quantity over quality.” She switched the wine bottle to her other hand and touched a still-green fruit. “Last year, I thinned the blossoms, and each fruit grew twice as large as these. But even if these ripen fully, they’ll only be about a third larger than they are now.”

She withdrew her hand. “I won’t keep you company. I’m going downstairs to check on things. Xingmeng might be failing, but I can’t afford to lose my cash flow. Otherwise, my precious fresh meat and flowers might run away.”

As soon as Yao Yanhui left, Su Qingwan was alone.

A gentle breeze rustled through the air. The sky overhead was even gloomier than before, yet within that oppressive darkness, Su Qingwan glimpsed a sliver of light.

Yao Yanhui hadn’t seemed to answer her question directly, but every word had struck at her core.

She repeatedly asked herself: Was she truly willing to give up the bread that could keep her alive?

No, she wasn’t. That piece of bread wouldn’t completely resolve her immediate crisis, but it offered a sliver of hope for survival. If she gave it away, would she even live long enough to find another piece?

If she couldn’t, who would pity her?

As for the mother and son, she couldn’t even secure her own basic needs. How could she afford to show compassion or pity others?

The dark clouds overhead began to dissipate, and bean-sized raindrops hammered against the roof, producing dull thuds. The streets were nearly deserted.

Having finished her work, Bai Man glanced at the time—it was already past midnight.

She rose from her desk, went downstairs, and took a glass of soda water from the refrigerator. As she turned to go back upstairs, she noticed a solitary figure sitting on the balcony.

Changing direction, she walked over to the balcony. Xu Mengjie, draped in a silk scarf, sat in a chair, staring straight ahead. A bottle of red wine and a wine glass filled with crimson liquid stood on the side table beside her.

As if sensing her arrival, Xu Mengjie slowly spoke, “Stay and talk with me.”

Bai Man murmured in acknowledgment, pulled up a chair, and sat down.

Xu Mengjie lifted her glass and took a small sip. “I was a failed mother. During the early years of my husband and I starting our business, Qingwan lived in the countryside with her grandparents for seven years. Only after Hengjie Garment Factory stabilized did I bring Qingwan back.” She turned to Bai Man. “Do you know? Every time I picked Qingwan up or took her out, everyone praised her for being so well-behaved.”

She forced a bitter smile. “I never liked that word. Her father and I both grew up in the countryside, and when I was a child, everyone praised me for being ‘sensible.’ I understand better than anyone the heartache behind that word. It’s something life forces you to become.” She clenched her fist. “I don’t want Qingwan to be ‘sensible.’ I’d rather she cause trouble, be a willful little princess.”

She tilted her head back. “But Qingwan… she’s always been so sensible, so understanding. Even after Manman repeatedly criticized her, she would comfort me, telling me not to worry, that she understood. I told her, ‘Don’t let Manman’s temper get to you. You don’t owe her anything.'”

She paused, then continued, “I owe Manman too. I’ve tried desperately to make up for her past material deprivation, hoping to fill the emptiness in her heart. But every time I think I’m making progress, Manman sees Qingwan, sees how well she’s doing, and her resentment and dissatisfaction resurface.” She took another sip of wine. “During their arguments, Manman is always the aggressive one, while Qingwan remains silent. Knowing Manman as I do, if Qingwan would just stand up to her a few times, she’d back down. But no… Qingwan never does.”

She drained her glass of red wine in one gulp. “The online accusations of Qingwan being ungrateful haven’t stopped, even after my explanation. That girl is probably hiding somewhere, licking her wounds.” She set down the glass and looked at Bai Man. “I… I have a favor to ask.”

Bai Man had already guessed what she wanted to say. “What if she doesn’t want to change?”

Xu Mengjie’s eyes lowered, a realization dawning on her. “I was forcing her.”

With despair looming, Bai Man’s sudden appearance had given her hope that Hengjie Garment Factory could be revived. It was already a blessing from heaven; she shouldn’t ask for more, shouldn’t expect Bai Man to fulfill the regrets in her heart.

Sensing Xu Mengjie’s disappointment and self-blame, Bai Man felt a surge of irritation. She stood up. “I’ve finalized the plans for the clothing brand launch and sent them to your email.” She took a few steps, then stopped involuntarily. “I’ll try.”

Not because of Xu Mengjie’s request, but because she didn’t want Su Qingwan to suffer so much.

Xu Mengjie wept with joy. “Thank you.”

Such moving maternal love, yet none of it was directed at her.

Suppressing the bitterness and jealousy in her heart, Bai Man took another step forward.

“Old Bai heard that steamed mandarin fish is delicious. He asked a friend to bring one back. Remember to come home for dinner tomorrow night,” Xu Mengjie said, rising to her feet and watching Bai Man’s retreating figure.

Bai Man’s heart trembled slightly, her jealousy momentarily subdued. “Okay.”

Today was the third day the bank had given her to resolve the matter. She needed to meet with the newly appointed bank manager.

The previous bank manager, who had been negotiating with Bai Shanheng, had been dismissed yesterday. Under normal circumstances, learning from his predecessor’s fate, the new manager should be more accommodating.

As for Shunyang, the scandalous revelations from yesterday had not only shattered the company’s carefully cultivated reputation but had also, as expected, drawn the attention of higher authorities.

Shunyang was the financial backer of Yu Meng and her daughter. With their patron now struggling to survive, the mother and daughter would find it exceedingly difficult to weather this storm on their own.

At dawn, after breakfast, Bai Man headed to the bank.

No sooner had she arrived than she was escorted to the conference room.

The woman who entered was middle-aged, around forty, with a head of brown, permed curls. A smile played on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Miss Bai, you’ve come so early. Are you prepared to settle the debt?” Huang Juan asked.

Bai Man replied decisively, “Not yet.”

“Then, Miss Bai, have you come to request more time for Hengjie Garment Factory?”

“Is Manager Huang willing to grant it?” Bai Man countered.

Huang Juan spread her hands. “I would very much like to help you, Miss Bai, but this matter has become quite serious. The higher-ups are paying close attention to this loan. I hope you understand.”

Bai Man wasn’t surprised by this response.

Leaning back in her chair, she asked, “How much interest are you willing to waive?”

“Miss Bai, you misunderstand. This isn’t about interest. The regulations are clear and cannot be violated,” Huang Juan said, her voice soft but her tone firm.

“The next line should be, ‘If you cannot repay the full amount, we will initiate standard procedures.'” Seeing Huang Juan’s slight stiffness, Bai Man knew she had hit the mark.

She stood up. “I recall your bank has a policy of exercising discretion when dealing with special or high-asset clients.” She nodded. “It seems this is the result of your bank’s discretionary handling.”

“We granted you three days of grace precisely because of your unique circumstances.”

“I only needed a month. If Manager Huang is so adamant, we’ll proceed through the standard channels. If I recall correctly, that will take at least two months.” With that, Bai Man turned and strode away.

Huang Juan hurriedly stood up and chased after her. “Miss Bai, please don’t be so hasty. Let’s sit down and discuss this calmly.” She had guessed Bai Man was seeking an extension, but she hadn’t imagined she only needed a month.

“There’s no need,” Bai Man said curtly before leaving.

The bank’s relationship with Shunyang was truly extraordinary. She wondered what secrets might be unearthed if she dug deeper.

With that thought, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to Sheng Hao.

On the way back, she spotted Su Qingwan’s figure in the car. As she parked and opened the door, she noticed a girl wearing a baseball cap heading into the same café Su Qingwan had entered.

Judging by her build, it looked like Yu Meng.

Shouldn’t Yu Meng be focused on salvaging her reputation right now? How could she possibly have time to meet with Su Qingwan?

And Su Qingwan—hadn’t she told her not to meet Yu Meng alone?

System 388: Host, hurry up! If you don’t act now, Yu Meng will snatch Su Qingwan away!