Chapter 40

Slightly Sweet You（10）

Chapter 40

Over the next three days, Mu He was busy with Fashion Week events and commercial shoots. During breaks, she would take out her phone to check online for any gossip related to herself—like Mu He’s mysterious hotel rendezvous with a man—but everything was calm. The Weibo feed was peaceful, filled with airport pick-up photos, fashion show posts, and plenty of compliments and declarations of affection. Every post she read, she silently said thank you, promising herself she would work harder and live up to their support and admiration.

Tan Mian went to fetch coffee and returned to find Mu He leaning against the sofa, fast asleep, phone still in hand. Her teacher’s ability to fall asleep instantly had been honed to perfection; anytime she found a corner, she could drop into a deep sleep.

Tan Mian envied such quality rest. The adult world was never without worries—busy days followed by nights of tossing and turning were normal. But considering how exhausted Mu He was from constantly spinning like a top since arriving in Nan City, it was understandable.

Tan Mian took a photo, intending to upload it to her own Weibo: “Caught Teacher Mu sneaking a nap” [picture].

She knew the post would make fans feel sympathy; many successful cases showed that a moderate display of vulnerability was necessary for celebrities—showing three parts of hardship meant letting others see seven parts. Who cared if that was their duty?

But Tan Mian also knew that Mu He would dislike such self-promotion. On the set of Immortal Love Tale, even when her shoulders were bruised from wire work, she never complained publicly. Falling asleep from work exhaustion was trivial by comparison.

Tan Mian deleted the draft, carefully placed Mu He’s phone on the table, covered her with her coat, gently closed the door to the lounge, and left.

Even though Mu He slept soundly, she woke automatically on schedule.

The afternoon commercial shoot went smoothly. After eating, Mu He and Tan Mian returned to the hotel and ran into Madam Qin in the lobby. Perhaps from lack of rest, she looked slightly haggard.

“Miss Mu, may I have a word with you?”

Tan Mian’s curiosity spiked—wasn’t this Qin Zhi, her mother?

Yangyang knew her? What could they possibly have to discuss?

“Tan Mian, you go ahead upstairs.”

Tan Mian suppressed her gossiping instincts, gave Mu He a look that said she could contact her if needed, and left.

The two went to a nearby teahouse.

As soon as they sat, Madam Qin’s suppressed tears burst forth: “Yangyang, such a beautiful name. May I call you that?”

Mu He remained unmoved: “Madam Qin, please speak plainly.”

“Your uncle raised you so well, so well,” Madam Qin choked back part of her tears. “Actually, that night at the Annual Gala, I recognized you. Do you know? We have exactly the same eyes. I didn’t come to you before because I feared you would resent me, hate me…”

Mu He coldly interrupted: “My eyes resemble my father’s.”

Madam Qin, unaware Mu He meant her brother Mu Haoran, recalled painful memories. Tears streamed like twin rivers: “All the misfortune came from your father. When you were still in my womb, he insisted on aborting you. It was tearing at my heart, but I refused, gritting my teeth to give birth to you.”

“Yangyang, think about it—I was only nineteen, finally admitted to university in Nan City from Shancheng. If anyone knew I had an unwed child, my life would have been ruined. Moreover, as a woman, I was in a difficult position, unable to raise a child alone. I hoped you could understand my hardship…”

Mu He sneered inwardly. So, you abandoned the child in the mountains, never intending to give her a chance to survive. Her existence would constantly remind you of that shameful past?

Madam Qin trembled violently as she sobbed: “My life has been cursed! In my youth, I met a scoundrel, deceived in body and heart, and gave birth to a child. For a moment I lost my senses and made a terrible mistake. I wronged you, my child! You were the most innocent. Thankfully, heaven was merciful, protecting your safe growth, or I would have lived in guilt forever.”

Mu He felt like an outsider watching a play. Madam Qin performed her tragic role with emotional intensity, but her acting lacked refinement—awkward, even clumsy. If she had maintained her dignity and coldness, recognition could have remained distant and mutual estrangement intact. Instead, crying, pleading for forgiveness, and displaying misery only lowered her in Mu He’s eyes.

“Madam Qin,” Mu He’s expression remained neutral, locking eyes with her tear-filled gaze, “the person you should truly beg forgiveness from is not me.”

Madam Qin froze mid-cry, confused, as if pondering who Mu He meant, what could be worse than abandoning your biological daughter?

“Your uncle? Yes, he raised you. I must make it up to him. I brought him to the city so he could enjoy wealth and honor…”

If Mu He had any lingering understanding of her explanations, or a faint hope for the maternal love she never received, it vanished instantly.

“Madam Qin, do you remember You Fenfang?”

“…Who?”

The name felt completely foreign to Madam Qin.

“It’s normal that you’ve forgotten,” Mu He nodded knowingly. “After all, you replaced her spot to attend university twenty-four years ago.”

She had destroyed another woman’s life lightly for her own future, forgetting even the name, while the one brother who had repaid her debts over the years, she never inquired about, never knew he had passed. How ironic.

Madam Qin finally recalled and panicked. With the lie exposed, the credibility of all her other explanations crumbled: “Yangyang, listen to me—”

Mu He gave her no chance to explain, picked up her bag, and walked out. At the door she paused: “Aunt You Fenfang just underwent a kidney transplant at Central Hospital in City A yesterday. Madam Qin, if you still have an ounce of conscience, you should visit her. But forget it, you’ve already caused her enough suffering…”

“From now on, please don’t seek me out again. Consider me,” she paused, “gone, as you wished.”

Madam Qin screamed hoarsely: “Yangyang!”

Mu He walked away without looking back.

Madam Qin took tissues from her Chanel bag, carefully wiped her face, called a driver, and went to a beauty salon to reduce eye swelling, style her hair, and change into a luxurious purple qipao. She arrived at the Sun-Moon Club.

Tonight there was a grand banquet, attended by Nan City’s wealthy merchants, politicians, and elites. Madam Qin had only received the invitation thanks to her socialite friends. Unexpectedly, she seemed to recognize someone, pulling her companion aside and pointing: “Who is that?”

“Oh, my dear sister, you’ve been abroad for years, it’s normal you wouldn’t recognize him,” her friend, styled flamboyantly like a peacock and wearing smokey makeup, long nails capable of stabbing, said. “That is Nan City’s richest man, Ding Wu, whose mere footstep shakes the city.”

Madam Qin gasped, covering her cherry-red lips with delicate hands, eyes wide as cow’s eyes: “Ding Wu?!”

She didn’t know the richest man, but she knew Ding Wu, the second young master of the Ding family, a notorious playboy! How did this happen? The one who was least expected rose to head the Ding family?

She asked again: “Is he married?”

“No,” her friend whispered, “no children either. Isn’t that rare?”

Madam Qin’s heart pounded, almost out of her throat. She took a cocktail from a waiter and sipped to calm herself.

Ding Wu had changed greatly. His charm remained intact, while she, having labored to become Madam Qin, displayed outward splendor but knew only inner bitterness. Her husband kept mistresses; being a stepmother was difficult; her spoiled stepdaughter was ungrateful. She gave her all but received no genuine affection in return. Outwardly a noblewoman, inwardly a high-level caretaker for them both.

She looked again at her old love, as if seeing a living treasure.

She once naïvely thought that one child could bind him, even if he had little presence in the Ding family. At least she had married into wealth.

She could never have predicted that upon telling him of her pregnancy, his attitude would shift sharply, first cooling, then disappearing entirely.

She pinned all her hopes on the child. As long as she gave birth to a son, even if he refused to marry her, the Ding family elders would not ignore him. She could gain status through her child, and her son would eventually have the right to inherit the Ding family.

But fate played cruelly—she gave birth to a daughter.

Her dreams shattered, leaving only hatred. Her bright future was gone, and almost dying from childbirth for a daughter’s sake was all Ding Wu’s doing. She vowed revenge.

She would make his flesh and blood repay him. When he lay on his deathbed, gasping for life, she would tell him: I gave you a daughter, but her life was fleeting like a night-blooming cereus.

Time passed. Madam Qin changed her mind. She walked

Footsteps came from behind. Mu He quickly drew the curtains, turned around, and smiled sweetly, holding up half a glass of red wine as an invitation: “Have a drink with me.”

Huo Siheng sat beside her and took a sip directly from her glass. As he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moved slightly, looking incredibly sexy.

Mu He wasn’t drunk, but she felt as if she were. She leaned over and kissed his Adam’s apple, feeling his body stiffen. The throat she gently pressed with her lips sank violently, making her heart race with pride. Well done, Mu Yangyang, she thought, I’ve scored a point.

Unexpectedly, she faced an unprecedented, fierce counterattack.

She was completely intoxicated by the kiss he led.

“Heng,” Mu He leaned on his shoulder, laughing softly, “so it’s not really about valuing sons over daughters.”

She was merely the product of youthful indulgence between a young man and woman. Neither of them could be responsible for her. One advocated abortion, the other insisted on her being born, but ultimately, due to various practical considerations, they abandoned her.

Knowing the truth, Mu He didn’t feel the imagined sadness—because they were not worth it.

“Yangyang,” Huo Siheng, now certain her father was Ding Wu, lowered his gaze and noticed a faint dimple on her cheek, “if someday your father finds you…”

“Better not,” Mu He said stubbornly. “I don’t want him to find me.”

Dealing with Madam Qin was already troublesome enough; now another scoundrel trying to take away her right to live?

Did he really think she had no temper?

She didn’t hit women, but for heartless scoundrels like that, she would show no mercy.

Huo Siheng replied lightly: “Good.”

Then he wouldn’t let him find her.

Night was deep and serene, stars scattered across the sky.

They returned to the bedroom to sleep. Mu He lay under the covers, still restless, talking casually with him. Gradually, she fell into a deep sleep.

Her long eyelashes were like small fans, shadows resting gently on her eyelids. Despite all the hardships she had endured, her sleeping face was innocent and unworldly. Huo Siheng watched quietly in the darkness for several minutes before finding her hand and holding it gently, closing his eyes.

Early in the morning, before the sky fully brightened, Mu He woke up thirsty. Groggily, she felt something under her legs, uncomfortably pressing against her. She thought it was her phone, reached out to move it, and as she picked it up—but before she could toss it aside—she noticed the shape in her palm seemed… unusual?