Chapter 22 She Regrets It Deeply Now

After getting into the car, Xu Anan struggled to sit upright, then held out her delicate, pale hand to Jiang Li. “You took my medicine, didn’t you? Give it back.”

Smack.

Jiang Li slapped her hand away. “Which shady clinic gave you that prescription?”

“If you keep taking those pills, you won’t be able to have children in the future. It’ll seriously harm your body. What, do you want to die early and leave your mother behind?”

Of course, Xu Anan knew all that. But she had grown dependent on the painkillers.

Every time her period came, she needed them.

She fell silent for a moment, then looked up. “Second Master Jiang, why are you so concerned about me? Could it be that you really like me? That you’ve developed feelings over time?”

Jiang Li didn’t answer, simply stared at Xu Anan.

His deep, shadowy eyes surged with emotions she couldn’t decipher.

Xu Anan, annoyed, leaned back and turned her head away. “Those pills aren’t cheap. You’ll have to pay me back, or I won’t let you off.”

Buzz, buzz.

Receiving a message from Jiang Yu, Xu Anan finally saw the text from last night.

Jiang Yu: [Why didn’t you come yesterday!]

Xu Anan ignored it, dismissing all his messages.

Jiang Li glanced over; his height gave him a clear view of her phone screen. He instructed someone to make arrangements for a few more ‘events’—guaranteeing that Jiang Yu would be very ‘busy’ in the coming days, wearing him out completely.

The car arrived at the old residential complex where Xu Anan lived.

It was an aged community. At this hour, many elderly men and women gathered outside to chat. When a luxury car showed up, they craned their necks and widened their eyes.

Xu Anan felt helpless; suddenly, she didn’t want to get out of the car.

Yet, she wanted even less to walk with Jiang Li.

After a brief internal struggle, Xu Anan finally stepped out, walking into the complex with a blank expression as the elders’ gazes washed over her.

“Well, well, who would’ve thought this young girl had real skills!”

“That’s right! Looks foxy, must have seduced a rich man!”

Xu Anan straightened her back, unfazed by their comments. In contrast, Jiang Li’s handsome face inside the car was dark and stormy.

…

Returning home, Xu Anan could finally relax. She casually stripped off her clothes, tossing them aside, and soaked herself in warm water.

Like a baby bathed in amniotic fluid, safe within her mother’s womb.

Sometimes, Xu Anan wondered—if she hadn’t existed, maybe her mother wouldn’t have ended up so wretched.

Single mothers already have it hard, and Shen Ying refused to let the two of them off.

She wanted to squeeze every bit of value from them!

Shen Ying, Shen Ying!

When she was almost out of breath, Xu Anan emerged from the water like a lotus blooming on the surface, droplets clinging to her eyelashes and falling one by one.

Her clear, beautiful eyes burned with endless anger and hatred.

She had to climb higher, no matter the cost.

Leaving the bathroom, Xu Anan collapsed onto her bed, exhaustion overwhelming her, yet she still grasped her phone, staring at Jiang Li’s name on the screen.

Now, regret gnawed at her.

She regretted letting her emotions get the better of her and showing Jiang Li a cold face.

But she didn’t dwell on it long. Pride was a luxury for those in high places; she could bend or stand tall as needed.

Xu Anan sent Jiang Li a message: [Second Master, are you asleep? About the beauty pageant, do you have time tomorrow? Can we meet to discuss it?]

Unsurprisingly, Jiang Li didn’t reply.

Xu Anan could only hug her blanket and drift off. The first few days of her period brought pain, but after that it eased, so she didn’t need any medicine.

The next day.

When Xu Anan showed up at the magazine office, everyone was surprised. After all, yesterday’s events were fresh in their minds.

Most had assumed she’d be fired.

How could she still walk in unscathed?

Xiao Mei hurried over. “Anan, are you okay?”

She had never expected the delicate-looking Xu Anan to have such explosive strength—had she really been oppressed for so long?

Xu Anan glanced at An Li’s workstation, which was empty.

“The department head isn’t back?”

“I heard the head was fired. As for An Li, she’s been given a week off,” Xiao Mei said.

Hearing this outcome, Xu Anan was surprised. The sacrificed one was the head—what was An Li’s background?

Others were just as curious.

But, curiosity aside, everyone still had work to do.

Xu Anan was assigned an interview.

It was with a washed-up, but once renowned, author.

The writer had a temper, and in recent years his talent had dried up. Newcomers had replaced him, and he was gradually forgotten.

The author lived in the suburbs. Xu Anan spent half the day on the road before arriving.

Ding-dong, ding-dong!

The door opened, and a man in a white knit cardigan greeted her. His skin was pale, the kind of pallor that comes from years without sunlight.

His eyes lacked vitality, as if her visit didn’t interest him at all.

If not for the payment, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to the interview—surely they just wanted to squeeze out his last bit of value, to show the world how miserably the has-been author lived.

Xu Anan greeted him politely and followed him inside.

“Sit wherever you like.” He still poured her a glass of water. From Xu Anan’s eyes, he saw neither disdain nor impatience, so different from previous visitors.

Xu Anan handed over the interview questions.

“If you have any concerns, please let me know.”

The author glanced through them—the questions were standard, nothing sensational or probing.

But they showed great respect, avoiding old wounds.

“You’re sure you’re only asking these questions?”

“For your work, this won’t be much help, will it? Are you really willing to leave empty-handed?”

Xu Anan smiled. “It’s important to have a conscience. But if you’re willing, please give me your autograph.”

She pulled a book from her bag.

It was the author’s most famous work.

The creased corners showed she had read it many times, which surprised and moved the author.

“Of course.”

He picked up his pen and signed his name.

Xu Anan added, “Perhaps the questions I wrote aren’t what most people are curious about, but they’re definitely what your fans care about most.”

“Don’t lose heart. There are always people who look forward to you.”

Her words stirred the author deeply. He couldn’t help but look at Xu Anan in a new light.

He had been shut away for so long, with no new works. Surely all his fans had gone.

Xu Anan took out a magazine, letting him browse through it, then said, “I don’t believe everyone who gets this magazine will read every article carefully. They’ll only focus on what interests them.”

“For example, your fans will buy this issue just for you.”

“We must shine for those who are worth it.”