A Gilded Cage of Love - Chapter 11
When I received Gu Chao’s call, I was hurrying out of a restaurant, rushing to my tutoring student’s home.
He is Teacher Zhou’s son.
A few years older than me, he just graduated from university and entered society this year.
During the summer, I heard Teacher Zhou say he had gotten a job at the city government, and his work had stabilized.
Back then, Teacher Zhou’s eyes were full of relief-years of anticipation finally settled.
I had attended such a good university, Gu Chao had found a job, and she could finally wait for retirement with peace of mind.
But then, how did she fall ill?
Gu Chao sounded troubled:
“Back then, when Mom was willing to help you, our whole family agreed and supported it.
“But now she’s sick.
“I never had much savings to begin with, and my dad’s health isn’t good either-high blood pressure, long-term medication…
“I’m calling because I have an awkward request. The money Mom lent you before, could you… return it to us? There’s no rush, I can still hold on for a while… I just wanted to let you know about this.”
His voice grew quieter and quieter.
Finally, with a bitter laugh: “Ruan Yao, I really didn’t have the face to ask, and my mom wouldn’t let me. But our family has nowhere else to turn. My dad is planning to sell the house.”
It felt like I’d been slapped hard across the face, burning with pain.
My lips moved, and I felt the heat surging in my eyes, but the words I spoke were extremely calm.
“Is Teacher Zhou… alright?”
“She’s stable for now. Later she might need to go to the provincial hospital for further treatment…”
“How much more do you need?”
He sounded troubled: “Some can be reimbursed, but we need to pay up front. The surgery cost is manageable, but the follow-up treatment…”
“We’re trying to figure it out. On your side…”
“Alright,” I soothed softly, “don’t worry, I’ll find a way.”
I didn’t catch what he said after that.
At night, as usual, I went to the bar to sing.
Jiang Qin, who had disappeared for more than half a month, showed up again.
Once again, I sang “Life is Like the Sea.”
Before, I had no reason; this time, I had a purpose.
Jiang Qin heard the melody, paused his conversation with someone else, and looked at me on stage with an unreadable expression.
After I got off stage, the place became lively-so lively it didn’t feel like midnight.
For the first time, I didn’t have time to remove my makeup. I grabbed the suit I’d left in the dressing room long ago and rushed out.
Jiang Qin was no longer at his seat.
He hadn’t gone far.
I didn’t stop, walking out through the crowd.
In the cold winter, sweat beaded on my forehead.
Finally, by the streetlamp outside the bar, I saw Jiang Qin on the phone.
He held an unlit cigarette, his brows and eyes cold and sharp, but the warm, dim streetlight made him seem less out of reach.
I stopped, standing not far away, within his peripheral vision.
Jiang Qin hung up, instinctively looked at me, and paused as he was about to light his cigarette.
I took a deep breath, walked up, and gathered my courage.
“Jiang Zong, here’s your jacket.”
He glanced at the suit, then looked at me with interest.
His voice was low and magnetic, asking a question we both knew the meaning of.
“Changed your mind?”
My heart was in chaos, but I didn’t back down.
The next second, he took the suit and draped it over my shoulders again.
This jacket had stayed in my closet for a long, long time, its original owner’s scent long gone.
But now, it seemed to carry a faint trace of men’s cologne, just like the first time.
Jiang Qin’s voice was tinged with a smile: “You didn’t even get a chance to wear the jacket-what’s the rush? I haven’t bought you a drink yet, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I got into Jiang Qin’s Maybach.
It was already midnight, the night as dark as ink.
The destination was the top floor of a luxury hotel.
A hotel costing ten thousand a night, even the elevator gleamed with gold, leaving me nowhere to hide.
The top floor was circular, with only two rooms, each occupying half the space.
The bathroom was well-designed with dry and wet separation. After I showered, there was no steamy haze of ambiguity.
Jiang Qin opened a bottle of red wine. He wore a casual black silk shirt and suit pants, raising his hand to me.
I went over obediently-the carpet was so soft it felt like a dream.
Under the bathrobe, I wore nothing.
Jiang Qin was twenty-six that year.
He sat me on his lap.
The heat was obvious; I didn’t dare move.
Jiang Qin was still smiling, his voice unhurried, getting straight to the point.
“Be with me?”
It just so happened that I didn’t know how to write about rich people.
I’d treat this as material for later.
I took a deep breath.
“Okay.”
It didn’t matter-this was a chance derailment.
The sheets were dry, the room filled with high-end aromatherapy.
Soon, the scent was no longer so pure, tainted by something else.
Once, Jiang Qin wrote me a check for five hundred thousand.
Dragging my aching body, I went to the bank.
I transferred ten thousand to my mom, and another hundred thousand to Teacher Zhou.
When giving money to my family, you have to pace yourself.
You need to solve their urgent problems, but also let them know the money wasn’t easy to come by.
Gu Chao was startled and immediately called me.
I lied to him, saying Gangcheng had a policy and I’d taken out a loan.
I walked a long way, hung up on my mom’s call.
Told them I’d find a way for the rest of the money.
After the temperature dropped, the pigeons in Central disappeared-I splurged for the first time and took a taxi to Cishan Temple.
The 76-meter pure white Guanyin Statue gazed down with compassion, overlooking the world.
Her eyes half-closed-two parts observing the world, eight parts observing herself.
The world is bustling, the sea of people vast.
For the first time, I, who had always been goal-oriented, felt empty and lost.
