CHAPTER 42
After a long time, Xiaoyuan recalled tonight countless times and felt that her courage at this time was really too bold!
But at this moment, she didn't know that she was purely acting on impulse.
Wei Zhuang sat on the sofa, her expression very subtle.
For at least a moment, Xiaoyuan felt that it was indeed subtle, but inexplicably, almost the next second, Wei Zhuang's demeanor turned cold.
Usually, when talking to her, Wei Zhuang was very calm, treating her differently due to their age, social status, and achievements.
Even though she rarely smiled and showed almost no emotional fluctuations, as if nothing was worth arousing her emotions.
But now, Xiaoyuan sensitively perceived that she was angry.
Wei Zhuang's posture remained unchanged, her eyes seemed to contain eternal ice. She didn't have a fierce or cold appearance; her eye contours, nose, lips, and chin were all very delicate and beautiful. Not only was her appearance beautiful, but her bone structure was also exquisite.
If it weren't for her cold aura, keeping people at a distance, she would definitely be a lively and beautiful woman.
Xiaoyuan stood there in a daze, a voice in her heart screaming wildly, 'Are you crazy? Why are you still thinking about how she looked when she wasn't cold?'
What should she do now?
'Is she angry?'
'Why is she angry?'
She was at a loss and a little flustered.
"It's all for the sake of acting, right?" Wei Zhuang suddenly said, her gaze indifferent, seeming to carry a hint of frustration. Her voice was as cold as ice striking stone, sending a slight shiver through Xiaoyuan. "...I..."
Before Xiaoyuan could gather her thoughts to speak, Wei Zhuang had already stood up, as if she didn't expect her to answer, and walked away.
She quickly left the living room, and as she passed by Xiaoyuan, the hem of her dress swept swiftly against her pant legs.
Xiaoyuan stood there, momentarily stunned, only able to softly utter, "Ah..."
What should she do? What does this mean?
What had happened?
Is she really angry?
Xiaoyuan's mind was a tangled mess, and her first reaction was to take a few steps to follow but then abruptly stopped.
There are generally two ways to deal with someone who is angry. One is to immediately catch up with them, communicate, and make them feel valued. The other way is to let them calm down first, soothe their emotions, and then decide whether to communicate based on the situation.
Which type is Wei Zhuang? Would she dislike being bothered by someone when she was upset?
Xiaoyuan stopped and circled back to the living room, but thinking from Wei Zhuang's perspective, she was the first type, not liking to be left alone when she's in a bad mood, which would make her feel lonely.
Thinking this, she decided to follow a few steps again.
But Wei Zhuang was different from her, right?
Xiaoyuan circled back once more.
'Wait, if she's angry and I didn't say anything, wouldn't she be even more upset?'
Furrowing her brows, Xiaoyuan ran a few steps again.
Wait, but she didn't even know what Wei Zhuang was angry about! If she were to ask, "Where did you go wrong?" what should she respond?
If she replied, "I don't know," wouldn't that just make the other person even angrier?
Xiaoyuan anxiously ran back and forth several times, biting her thumb and thinking for a long time. Finally, she sighed, deciding it was better not to act impulsively without understanding the situation. What if things got worse?
Her face scrunched up in worry.
Sigh.
Even though they were both women, the world of older people was still so difficult to understand!
The octagonal window was being pelted by raindrops, making a pitter-patter sound. Wei Zhuang stood alone in front of the window, the silent light casting a halo around her.
The night grew deeper, the rain intensifying, showing no signs of stopping.
The gloomy rain was just like that day.
When she was twelve, she returned home from the fencing academy, greeted only by the maid.
"Miss, you're back." the maid took her sword case and backpack.
"Where's my dad?" She had arranged to discuss the course schedule for the second half of the year with her father. He was a very busy man, so meeting him was a rare occurrence. She had booked an appointment with his secretary weeks in advance.
The children of the Wei family usually attended prestigious private schools. In addition to the required courses, they also had elective courses.
The maid replied, "Sir and Madam went to pick up the young master."
She paused. "Are they not coming back today?"
The maid could only answer truthfully, "Sir and Madam went on a vacation to Europe and will be back in a week."
When they returned, she didn't even know where they would be staying. Making another appointment and finding time to meet was uncertain. She didn't feel disappointed, perhaps she had been disappointed too many times already, not knowing what it felt like to be let down once more.
She remembered it was in April that year. Shencheng in April was always rainy. She attended classes, studied, and trained—all alone, as always.
The next day, an unexpected person arrived at the house.
The visitor was wearing a navy blue or dark purple cheongsam, with a classical look and delicate magnolia embroidery. It was widely known that cheongsams, though beautiful, were not universally flattering and were difficult to wear well. She had never seen anyone wear this color of cheongsam so gracefully.
"Is my Nuan Nuan at home?" the woman asked, her voice soft and charming, calling her affectionately.
"Nuan Nuan" was a local term for a little daughter.
Wei Zhuang found it strange to hear this, no one had ever called her that way, "Who are you?"
"Does my Nuan Nuan not remember Mommy?" The woman came closer. Under the opulent crystal chandelier in the grand hall, her rose-red lips looked like a blooming, vibrant rose.
Upon hearing that word, a flash of information crossed Xiaoyuan's mind.
Her name was Zhu Ehua.
She was her biological mother.
Her father's first wife.
The mother she had never seen since her birth.
"Since you have nothing to do, why don't you go play with Mommy?" she asked with a smile.
The information stored in her mind has always been sealed. For a long time, she thought of these as points of knowledge in a book, printed in the pages, never expecting that one day they would come to life right in front of her.
Twelve-year-old Wei Zhuang quietly watched her for a moment and nodded.
Zhu Ehua took her away for a week.
The place where she stayed was always filled with the fragrance of flowers, with different fresh bouquets delivered daily.
She didn't want to make her do homework. "That's too boring, I don't want my Nuan Nuan to become a bookworm."
She hosted balls at home, where the air was thick with perfume, swirling dresses, and music playing from an antique phonograph.
The most charming person in the crowd approached her, took her hand, and said, "Come, Nuan Nuan, let's dance with Mommy."
She cooked in the kitchen, filling it with smoke, laughing heartily. "Oh my, thank goodness I'm not a housewife."
She winked at her. "Luckily, my little Nuan Nuan won't have to cook in the future. Never go into the kitchen!"
...
One late night, tears streaming down her face, she said to her, "Not a day goes by that Mommy doesn't regret not being with you, but for the sake of life, Mom had to leave you. I think of you every day, my goodness, you are so beautiful, so talented, I am so proud, all the suffering I've endured is worth it."
During that week, she didn't do any homework, didn't go to the fencing academy, and didn't hit the gym. She didn't complete any of her usual tasks, yet she felt curious and fulfilled.
At that time, she was only 12, so she was full of expectations.
After that, she kept waiting. She didn't tell anyone, and no one noticed, because she continued to attend classes, work out, and learn everything she was interested in alone. Only she knew what she was internally hoping for.
She didn't know how long it had been, so long that she couldn't even remember herself.
Until one day, on her way home, passing a crossroads at Tonghua Square, there was a huge poster for a GG brand at the mall.
On it was Zhu Ehua's face at a 45-degree angle, dressed in a retro cheongsam, a peony pinned in her hair, dressed as a dancer, graceful and elegant.
There were words on the poster, "Zhu Ehua shines again," "First time playing a mother role," piercing her eyes.
Wei Zhuang got off the car, went to buy a movie magazine, unlike other children her age, her daily life was all about learning various things, rarely paying attention to entertainment news. She opened the magazine and immediately saw Zhu Ehua's photos, several pages in a row of her movie interviews.
She smiled brightly, exuding charm, each photo had a different allure.
The reporters asked several questions in the interview, and she answered them, "Yes, it's my first time playing a mother role, quite interesting. Well, what I mean is, playing the role of a mother who is a dancer is not difficult, what's difficult is playing a mother whose profession is a dancer."
"Hmm, for an actor, life experiences are very important. I did have to find ways to empathize with this role."
"This film was nominated for the main competition section at the Venice Film Festival, and I didn't expect to win an award. It's a surprise and a comfort to have another opportunity to be seen."
"Congratulations on once again winning the Best Actress title at an international film festival."
"Haha, indeed it's the best gift I've received at age 35."
Wei Zhuang closed her eyes, her nails digging into her palm, her lips biting until they turned pale. After a moment, she instructed the driver to buy a movie tape.
Once home, she quietly watched the film alone, every plot point resonating with her. Even her standout lines were identical: "Not a day goes by that Mommy doesn't regret not being with you, but for the sake of life, Mom had to leave you. I think of you every day, my goodness, you are so beautiful, so talented, I am so proud, all the suffering I've endured is worth it."
It was Zhu Ehua's familiar face, familiar words.
Her extremely charming face, in front of Wei Zhuang, seemed to gradually transform into a painting, merging into the water. All colors faded away in an instant, becoming completely pale and unfamiliar.
Everything was for the sake of acting.
She turned off the movie, went outside. The weather was bad that day, and it soon started raining. The sky was dark, raindrops fell at her feet, on her slender, tall, and thin shadow.
Years had passed, yet Wei Zhuang didn't expect her memories to be so vivid.
Xiaoyuan had just taken a shower and calmed down for a moment, feeling she still couldn't remain idle. There were several rooms in the presidential suite, but she wasn't sure where Wei Zhuang was.
After searching around, she thought she could determine which room Wei Zhuang was in, but she hesitated at the door.
While showering, she had racked her brain, the only reason she could think of for Wei Zhuang's anger was maybe she didn't like unexpected things?
Someone like her, a boss, probably liked everything to go according to her plan. Was she angry because she didn't inform her beforehand about acting with her?
Xiaoyuan really couldn't think of any other reason because in her life, she had looked for her brother, Cai Juan, co-actors she had worked with, she had even auditioned with Shi Hai, as if this wasn't an unforgivable act, right?
But that was just her assumption.
She didn't know Wei Zhuang's thoughts.
Still uncertain, Xiaoyuan hesitated outside her door several times before returning to her own room.
For her, it was a strange place. She couldn't sleep in the bed, so she moved her pillow and blanket onto the carpet, leaning her back against the wall.
Better to sleep first and resolve it tomorrow.
Perhaps by morning, Wei Zhuang would have left as she did the first time.
Then this night's events will be a thing of the past.
Clinging to this hope, she gradually fell asleep amidst the sound of rain.
Years later, after they had been together for a long time, Xiaoyuan finally learned the reason for Wei Zhuang's anger that night. She felt an immense ache in her heart and gave Wei Zhuang a long, tender hug.
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