The Wind Heard Her Confession - Chapter 2: A Blinding Crush part 3

It was an animated emoji Xu Jianwei had sent Lin Yuran before, which she found amusing and saved to her collection. Who knew that during the sudden brake earlier, Lin Yuran’s phone hadn’t turned off, and amidst the chaos, her finger accidentally tapped on the screen and sent it to Chi Ye.

“Quickly, recall it,” Xu Jianwei urgently reminded her.

Lin Yuran swiftly pressed down on the emoji, fingers hovering over the delete button when the other side sent a single question mark.

?!

Lin Yuran shrugged helplessly, noticing Xu Jianwei’s empty soda bottle beside the cupholder. She picked it up, then remarked with no interest whatsoever, “You know, if I throw this bottle out the window, will Earth explode later? I really should hurry and destroy everything, there’s no way to live like this!”

“What do you mean, can’t be recalled?” Xu Jianwei asked.

Lin Yuran held the cell phone back up for her to see. “Chi Ye replied.”

Xu Jianwei glanced at the chat window, realizing their collaboration was doomed from the start, and began laughing heartily as she watched the drama unfold.

Lin Yuran was speechless, retrieving her phone and staring blankly at the chat window, unsure of what to do next.

How should he respond now?

Ahhhhh!

Should I say I sent it to the wrong person?

Just after they’d met, she sent this kind of emoji, then claimed it was the wrong person—don’t be so obvious when trying to chat up someone on the street! The problem was, obvious or not, he had already accepted it, but why did it have to be that emoji?!

A gust of wind blew through the window, ruffling a few stray strands of hair around her face and sending the card from the slot beside the door onto Lin Yuran’s leg.

Her gaze followed the card down.

Lin Yuran stared at those handsome men on the card, struck by inspiration. She sat upright, hesitated briefly, then typed into the WeChat box: 【How much for a night? 】 With a deep breath and a hard heart, she pressed send, covered her face with one hand, and waited for a reply.

The other party responded quickly:

Dark Night: 【??】

Excellent!

Chi Ye didn’t say anything else; everything was under control.

Lin Yuran corrected the angle of the card on her leg, found the camera function beneath the WeChat box, lifted her phone, aimed at the card, and took a photo. Then she typed another message: 【I added you via this method, so I politely ask how much you charge per night.】 Along with a smiling emoji.

She held her breath as she awaited his response quietly for two minutes.

Chi Ye didn’t respond again, and Lin Yuran let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Xu Jianwei watched her baffling operation from the side and asked, “What are you planning to do?”

Lin Yuran put away her phone. “Nothing, just treating it as a mistake for now. I’ll secretly delete him in a few days.”

Xu Jianwei gave her a thumbs-up.

Soon, they arrived at No.3 Affiliated Hospital of Southern Medical University. Lin Yuran straightened herself up slightly after this chaotic trip, then opened the door of the car.

Xu Jianwei rolled down the window and said with a smile, “I won’t be going upstairs to visit Auntie, there’s a little handsome lad waiting to pamper me.”

“Just live your best life!” Lin Yuran waved her goodbye before walking toward the hospital entrance.

At the hospital room, she briefly checked on how her mom Yao A-ping was doing over the last two days under the care of nanny Chen, then gave her four hours off.

Twenty-four-hour care was exhausting; whenever she had time, Lin Yuran would often step in to help out Aunt Chen so that she could rest or run personal errands outside.

Once Aunt Chen left, the hospital room fell silent.

Yao A-ping lay still on the bed, eyes closed, completely motionless like a corpse. Lin Yuran sat beside the bed and gently held Yao A-ping’s hand.

To Lin Yuran, no matter how steady the heart rate on the ECG monitor was, it remained cold and lifeless; only her mother’s warm touch could bring her peace of mind.

“Mom, I haven’t given up on my dreams—I’ve been accepted into Tsinghua Academy and will be starting soon. When that time comes, I may not be able to visit you as often. Don’t blame me.”

As though speaking to a confidant, Lin Yuran would share her joys and sorrows with Yao A-ping, just like any other mother and daughter duo.

“Mom, Uncle called and said Grandma is hospitalized now. I didn’t pay her visits before, Mom. Please don’t blame me.”

Lin Yuran harbored resentment toward her grandmother.

Grandma Yao valued boys over girls, so she never showed affection toward her daughter.

Yao A-ping was the first child born to her, but even before her mom was born, everyone in the family had hoped for a boy, so they already picked out a name: A-Ping. After her mom arrived, Grandma was disappointed and refused to give her another name.

When her mom was young, she complained about having a boy’s name, to which Grandma would say, “If I did, why don’t I call you Liu Huandi? In our village, most eldest daughters are named Zhaodi or Laiyi, your name is already quite pleasant.”

Some people were just like that: they wouldn’t empathize with others’ suffering and hardships; instead, they would mercilessly inflict even more onto others, convinced it was only right, becoming heirs to rotten and outdated ideologies.

Yao A-ping’s mother didn’t love her own daughter, much less her grandaughter. After Lin Yuran’s birth, the old lady often berated Yao A-ping for being unlucky, unable to give her husband a son.

Lin Yuran never received any affection from her grandmother, nor did she receive it from anyone else. Even the neighborhood dogs were friendlier than her grandmother.

This wasn’t surprising, however, since Yao A-ping hadn’t been favored by her mother, so there was no reason to expect better treatment from her granddaughter. Since the moment of Lin Yuran’s birth, her grandmother had viewed her as nothing but an eyesore.

The girl couldn’t help but resent her grandmother. Her father, Lin Wencheng, had passed away less than half a year ago, yet Yao A-ping was urged to remarry almost immediately after his death. Her grandmother said that it was embarrassing to be a widow, that everyone would gossip about an orphaned widow raising a child, that a single woman with a burden hanging around her neck could not survive, and that since she was still young, she ought to find someone new without delay.

Soft-spoken and lacking conviction, Yao A-ping quickly succumbed to her mother-in-law’s daily nagging and pressure. Without thinking too deeply on it, she hastily married Hao Qinghe within days of her husband’s passing. She pushed herself into hell, dragging Lin Yuran down alongside her.

Lin Yuran rested her face against Yao A-ping’s slightly warm hand.

“Mom, Hao Qinghe is going to get out of jail soon, I’m so scared!”

……

(T/N: Often in dramas, mothers and grandmothers hated their daughters/granddaughters alike. It was as if they didn’t used to be girls and had the same feelings as their daughters/granddaughters.)