A Gilded Cage of Love - Chapter 10
I read countless books, began to seriously plan a novel, and gained my first small group of readers on a website.
Although my manuscript fees were modest at the time, they were still an encouragement to me.
I started to make plans-maybe one day, I wouldn’t have to take part-time jobs outside, and could spend more time on what I truly loved.
I did the math: three years of high school, the initial money I gave my Parents, and the university tuition that Teacher Zhou insisted on giving me.
In total, I owed Teacher Zhou nearly forty thousand yuan.
In the first year, I paid back ten thousand.
Teacher Zhou was worried I’d suffer, earnestly advising me not to rush.
University life was wonderful; she didn’t want me to move so fast that I missed the scenery along the way.
But when my Parents received the money, they only wore cold expressions, as if it was something I owed them.
Even so, in those busy yet fulfilling days, it felt as if I glimpsed a ray of hope in my otherwise bleak life.
But then, in the winter of my sophomore year-
Ruan Zongyao, who had emptied out the Ruan Family’s savings to attend a private university, took out online loans to recharge his gaming account.
He racked up a debt of a hundred thousand yuan.
The collection company blew up Ruan Zongyao’s contact list.
They found our home and threatened us viciously.
The Ruan Family became the talk of every household in Gangcheng that month.
I got the call late at night, just after leaving my shift at the milk tea shop.
Although Gangcheng’s winters aren’t as cold as those in the north, the moment I heard my mother’s voice, I felt a chill from my chest to my fingertips.
“It’s a sin, such a sin,” my mother wailed on the other end.
“Mom, I have no money.
“I give you ten thousand every year-that’s all the money I can squeeze out by working hard… I still have to live, I still have to study…”
The wind brought tears to my eyes.
“To save money, I spend less than 7 yuan a day…”
I was interrupted.
“We don’t care! Your teacher said university is paid for by the state, right?!
“You went off to study and now your heart’s gone wild, huh? You don’t want to give money to your family anymore?! No wonder they say girls are ungrateful wolves! Who knows what you’re plotting!
“Are you trying to drive us to our deaths? Do you want to kill me and your father?”
The words I wanted to say died in my throat.
How ridiculous-after all these years, I still hadn’t seen through it?
Still foolishly hoping they’d pity me.
“Just wait. If you don’t give us money, I’ll have your brother expose you! Don’t forget, your brother knows how to use the internet now!
“If your brother exposing you isn’t enough, I’ll go lie down at your school gate! Let’s see if you can stand that shame!
“If you don’t give us money, we’ll go ask your teacher for it…”
“No!”
My voice was sharp.
But my mother had found my weak spot.
“Then hurry up and send us the money.”
…
That was the busiest winter I can remember.
Originally, my part-time jobs were scheduled for weekends only.
But now, with nowhere to turn, I began skipping classes.
During the day, I worked as a waitress at a Western restaurant; at night, I tutored students.
If I finished tutoring early, I’d go sing at a bar.
Back at school, not wanting to disturb my roommates, I’d update the next day’s novel chapter on my phone under the covers.
It was during this time that I met Jiang Qin again.
He had arranged to meet someone at the Western restaurant where I worked.
My colleague Linlin took his order, then excitedly pulled me aside to whisper.
“It’s my first time seeing Jiang Qin in person. I’ve only read about him in financial magazines before.”
After that incident, I’d paid attention to Jiang Qin’s background.
One of the top businessmen in Gangcheng, from a prominent family-the Jiang Family-with businesses spanning healthcare, real estate, ferries, supermarkets, logistics, entertainment… His ancestors led the Yue-Gang Trading Company and donated to the country during special times.
Jiang Qin’s father’s generation was notorious for scandals. Jiang Qin is the third son of the Jiang Family, and the only son of the legal wife-very much favored.
The reason I say “legal wife” is because there are six concubines below her.
I’d wanted to look, but was afraid of being too obvious.
Seeing Linlin glance over, I followed her gaze and studied him carefully.
His profile from the side and back was handsome, dressed like a true elite.
His skin was a healthy white, and his tailored suit was casually draped as he leaned back in his chair.
The cuffs of his shirt were meticulously rolled up, revealing smooth lines of muscle on his arms.
On his wrist, it was said, was a watch worth several million. It wasn’t until later that I remembered the brand was Audemars Piguet.
He looked both relaxed and proper, as if separated from everyone else by a hazy mist-aloof and distant, quite unlike the impression of the rich second generation always seen on the internet.
He didn’t have the stereotypical airs. He seemed to be there for business and in a hurry, devouring a plate of black truffle steak with reckless abandon.
When he left, he went to pay the bill.
I brushed past him, and he didn’t spare me a glance.
It was just an ordinary passing by.
Unexpectedly, less than half a day later, I saw him again.
During the day, I wore a crisp white shirt and light, decent makeup while working at a Western restaurant.
At night, I was already dressed in a leather jacket with smoky makeup, singing on the stage of a bar.
I sang the first half of the night.
After midnight, the stage would be taken over by pole dancers.
The bar’s lighting was decadent, deliberately designed to make people drunk and easily ambiguous.
Jiang Qin sat at the center booth, his features sharp and deep-set.
His long, phoenix-shaped eyes opened in a fan shape-narrow in front, wide at the back-with a pair of dark, detached pupils below.
We exchanged glances several times; he held an unlit lady’s cigarette between his lips.
I also saw clearly the person sitting next to him-it was the one he had been talking business with during the day.
The others looked distinguished as well, either wealthy or noble.
That night, I sang songs by Janice Vidal.
“Nemesis,” “Wounds,” “One by One.”
My voice was a bit smoky, well-suited for Cantonese songs.
But in the end, for reasons I couldn’t explain, I sang “Life is Like the Sea.”
I noticed Jiang Qin suddenly look up, staring at me.
That night, he didn’t invite me to his booth.
But he did buy me a drink.
For a stretch of time, he came every day.
Every day, he bought me a drink.
Late at night, the place heated up.
Gangcheng’s nightlife seemed to be just beginning.
After removing my makeup, I received a note from Qin Si, the bar’s second boss, backstage.
On it was an address.
Her lips were painted red, a cigarette between her fingers as she looked at me, her tone unhurried: “Young Master Jiang is looking for you. Two hundred thousand.”
It wasn’t my first day singing here, so I immediately understood what she meant.
The two hundred thousand left me a bit stunned, and somewhat ashamed.
After all, I just wanted him to remember me for some reason I couldn’t even figure out myself.
But it was definitely not to develop that kind of relationship.
I sighed, feeling something was off with myself: “Thank you, but Si-jie… forget it.”
Qin Si raised her brows slightly, not surprised: “It’s fine, Yaoyao, don’t take it to heart. That group of people knows the score; they don’t force anyone.”
After starting university, I introduced myself as Ruan Yao.
That was also a name Teacher Zhou gave me.
She said, “Yao” comes from the seventh star of the Big Dipper, Yaoguang, meaning jade light or white light, and by extension, brightness.
She hoped my future would be bright and beautiful too.
The night was as dark as ink.
Qin Si spoke again: “Jiang Qin himself isn’t into playing around, and he’s good-looking. You wouldn’t be losing out. What he can casually give you might be something you could never get no matter how hard you try in your life. Where a person ends up is a sum of effort and luck. There are so many unspoken rules in this world; everyone says they look down on them, but when the opportunity really comes, how many can remain noble? Maybe this is your luck. You really don’t want it?”
Qin Si started out in society at fifteen; now she’s thirty-four.
She’s been through it all for twenty years, with friends from all walks of life.
I’d heard many of her stories and understood her words weren’t without reason.
But still…
“Forget it.”
At that time, I understood one thing deeply.
The gifts of fate always come with a hidden price tag.
So I smiled and replied, “Si-jie, some things-even if they come, I might not be able to hold onto them.”
Qin Si looked at me deeply, her red lips parted slightly. She finished her cigarette and said no more.
I thought that after refusing, there would be no follow-up to this matter.
But just then, Teacher Zhou fell ill.
Lung cancer.
