Chapter 25.1

Ye Sibei and Qin Nan stayed in the car for a while when her phone suddenly rang urgently. She glanced at it and saw that it was Zhao Shuhui’s number.

She answered the call and immediately heard Zhao Shuhui’s sharp voice asking, “Was it you who contacted the media?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Was it you who posted those things online? You’re the one spreading this, right?!”

“It wasn’t me.” Listening to Zhao Shuhui’s agitated tone, Ye Sibei felt oddly calm. “The incident where you splashed paint on my house was exposed online; it has nothing to do with me.”

“How could it have nothing to do with you? It must be you! Ye Sibei, you reported it to the police, I paid the fine, I served time in detention—what more do you want? I haven’t forced you into a corner, have I?”

“Haven’t you?” Ye Sibei found it absurd. “You had people throw paint on my house, harass me, send me threatening messages, got Zhao Chuchu fired, and caused my brother to lose his job. If that’s not forcing me into a corner, then what is?”

Zhao Shuhui fell silent for a long time before finally speaking, “Zhao Chuchu resigned on her own, and so did your brother.”

“Giving someone an impossible choice and calling it voluntary resignation—is that what you call it?!”

“That has nothing to do with me!”

“Just like how today’s reporters,” Ye Sibei emphasized each word, “have nothing to do with me.”

After she said this, there was a long silence on the line. Ye Sibei turned her head to watch the cars passing by outside. After a while, Zhao Shuhui spoke, her tone hoarse, “Ye Sibei, you’re not the only one who’s paid a price. These days have been hard for us too. We’ve come this far—do you really not think you’ve done anything wrong?”

Ye Sibei continued to look out the window and replied in a raspy voice, “No.”

With that, she hung up the phone and tossed it aside.

Qin Nan turned to look at her and reached out to hold her hand.

This small gesture felt like she was holding onto a lifeline. She sat there in silence.

When they returned home, they didn’t dare turn on the lights, fearing that the reporters might come back. Instead, they used flashlights to wash up and get ready for bed.

After a long day, Qin Nan was exhausted. He lay down, intending to rest for a while, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

When Ye Sibei finished her bath and came out, she saw Qin Nan fast asleep on the bed.

She hesitated for a moment, then gently covered him with a blanket before lying down beside him.

Feeling someone next to her, she lay there with her eyes open. After a while, she reached out and gently held Qin Nan’s hand.

Qin Nan sensed her movement and forced his eyes open. In the darkness, Ye Sibei looked at him, and they quietly gazed at each other. Suddenly, Qin Nan asked, “Are you scared?”

“Yes,” Ye Sibei admitted without hesitation. Qin Nan turned to face her and asked, “If you’re scared, why didn’t you say so?”

“I’ve already caused everyone so much trouble,” Ye Sibei lowered her head. “I don’t want to worry you all even more.”

They lay there on the bed, holding hands. Qin Nan was at a loss for what to do. After a long silence, he softly asked, “Can I hold you?”

Ye Sibei looked up and gazed into his eyes, drawing strength from them. She realized that there was someone by her side, someone who supported her unconditionally and without reason.

With tears welling up in her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile and choked up as she replied, “Can I hold you?”

Qin Nan pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

In the darkness, they clung to each other, and Ye Sibei held onto him so tightly that her hands began to tremble.

She gently lowered her head, resting her forehead against his chest, and let out a soft, muffled sob.

That night, it wasn’t just Ye Sibei who couldn’t sleep; Zhao Shuhui also stayed awake.

The Fan family lived in a high-end residential area in Nancheng, guarded by security at the entrance. Reporters couldn’t get in, so they called Zhao Shuhui instead.

After answering a couple of calls, Zhao Shuhui turned off her phone. Then, she opened her computer and started searching for related keywords.

The incident was already trending on Weibo. Many reputable media outlets were discussing the topic under the hashtag #NanchengExecutiveWorkplaceAssault, but the more sensational hashtags, such as #RapeAndGag and #RapeVictimAttackedAfterReporting, were gaining even more traction.

Zhao Shuhui clicked on one of the trending topics and saw that the first post featured a photo. It seemed to be a repost, with the original poster adding two “crying” emojis and writing: “What should I do? Just looking at this photo has made me cry.”

Zhao Shuhui recognized the photo as being from Ye Sibei’s home.

In the picture, Ye Sibei was wearing an apron, with a cloth wrapped around her head, standing on tiptoes as she painted the wall. She had almost completely covered the word “whore,” leaving only a faint trace of the character. The stark red character beside her slender figure looked both jarring and malicious.

As Zhao Shuhui scrolled down, she saw various posts, some of which were from people in Nancheng who had documented the entire incident, creating a timeline from Ye Sibei’s assault, her reporting it to the police, to her house being vandalized with paint.

Many people expressed their support, saying things like:

“I want to donate to her. I want to support her!”

“Oh my God, I wouldn’t have been able to hold on. How did she manage?”

“The victim is not guilty and should not be blamed!”

“Has the case been officially filed? Have charges been brought? That scumbag must not get away with this!”

In addition to these empathetic comments, there were also many aggressive and abusive ones:

“What kind of trash is that rapist? Does he have a daughter? Isn’t he afraid that his daughter might be treated the same way in the future?”

“What kind of family raises this kind of scum?”

“Is he married? Is his wife a garbage dump? Why hasn’t she come out to apologize?”

As Zhao Shuhui continued to scroll, she found herself increasingly fixated on the insults and the shameful comments. Someone had even dug up Fan Jiancheng’s name, his appearance, his job, and even located their family’s home.

“He actually has a daughter? Does someone like him deserve to have a daughter?”

“Now I understand why his wife can tolerate him—ugly inside and out.”

“Their house is so nice; there must be something shady going on. Someone should investigate.”

…

The torrent of insults came flooding in, and in the dead of night, Zhao Shuhui hugged herself tightly and broke down in tears.

Fan Jiancheng’s mother noticed that the lights were still on late into the night. She stepped out of her room, intending to scold her daughter-in-law, but when she saw Zhao Shuhui’s tear-streaked face, she panicked. “What happened? Did something happen to Jiancheng?”

Zhao Shuhui shook her head, unable to speak.

Fan’s mother hurried over and grabbed Zhao Shuhui’s arm. “Say something! What’s the use of crying?”

“Mom,” Zhao Shuhui finally broke down. She looked up, crying, and asked, “Jiancheng wouldn’t do it, right? He wouldn’t, right?”

“He’s such a good person,” Zhao Shuhui clung to Fan’s mother, “How could he possibly be so terrible?”

“I’m not that bad either. I was forced into this. I had no choice…”

“Stop crying!” Fan’s mother, with tears in her eyes, scolded her, “Don’t wake up Wenwen.”

Hearing this, Zhao Shuhui bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her sobs.

In that moment, she missed her parents, her family. She thought that if she weren’t Fan Jiancheng’s wife, Fan Wenwen’s mother, or the daughter-in-law of the Fan family—if she were just Zhao Shuhui—her mother would surely hold her and tell her how to find the right path.

But her identity had become a shackle, making it impossible for her to return to being herself.

While Zhao Shuhui was crying at home, the Ye family also hadn’t gone to bed. Zhao Chuchu was sitting alone in Ye Nianwen’s room, while the three members of the Ye family sat in the living room.

Even though people were present, the house was completely silent. They didn’t dare turn on the lights or make any noise. After a long while, Ye Ling sighed, “Why is Sibei so stubborn? If she were willing to bow her head and talk to the Fan family, all of this would be over.”

“Don’t you understand yet?” Ye Nianwen, exhausted, responded, “If she could bow her head, she would have done so already. It’s because she didn’t bow her head that things have come to this point. If she doesn’t press charges, the Fan family won’t negotiate with her. If they do come to negotiate now, no matter how much money they offer, Sibei will carry the burden of being falsely accused for the rest of her life. Dad,” Ye Nianwen looked at Ye Ling, “you’re pushing her into a dead end.”

“How is that pushing her into a dead end?” Ye Ling, becoming anxious, replied, “Everyone in life faces some injustices.”

“Injustices?” Ye Nianwen looked at Ye Ling, “Since ancient times, grievances have been like snow in June. How can you call this just a little injustice? If it were you,” Ye Nianwen suppressed his anger, “could you bear it?”

“I could!” Ye Ling insisted, “What can’t I bear? Haven’t I endured enough for you and your sister? Did I say a word these past two months? Right now, we have no other option. The family is waiting for food on the table. What do you propose? Can you make money appear out of thin air?!”

“I already said,” Ye Nianwen lowered his head, “we can sell the house.”

“Did you ask Chuchu about selling the house?” Ye Ling pointed towards the bedroom, “Are you really planning to put her through that?”

Ye Nianwen remained silent. Ye Ling turned to Huang Guifen, “Guifen, say something! Are you just going to sit there and watch our son make a mistake?”

“Have the reporters outside left?” Huang Guifen didn’t respond to Ye Ling’s words. She glanced tiredly at the window. Ye Nianwen got up, pulled the curtains aside slightly, and after seeing no one outside, turned back to Huang Guifen, “It’s late. They’ve probably gone to rest.”

“You should take Chuchu home.”

Huang Guifen stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

“No,” Ye Ling became more agitated, “Guifen, talk some sense into Nianwen…”

Huang Guifen walked numbly into her room and shut the door with a sharp “bang.”

Ye Ling stood frozen at the door, while Ye Nianwen knocked and called out, “Chuchu.”

Zhao Chuchu, sitting on the bed, heard Ye Nianwen and got up to open the door.

Ye Nianwen gave her a weary smile, “It’s late. I’ll take you home.”

Zhao Chuchu smiled and nodded.

Since there were no buses running at night, Ye Nianwen hailed a taxi. The two of them remained silent during the ride. When they arrived at Zhao Chuchu’s house, Ye Nianwen walked her to the gate of the courtyard. Finally, Zhao Chuchu spoke up, “You can stop here.”

“Okay.”

Ye Nianwen nodded, and as Zhao Chuchu turned to go inside, he suddenly called out to her, “Chuchu.”

She paused, and Ye Nianwen lowered his head, his eyes brimming with tears. “I think… I want to sell the house.”

Zhao Chuchu remained silent, and Ye Nianwen struggled to continue, “I’m sorry, Chuchu. I haven’t achieved much. I don’t know when I’ll be able to find stability. My family is already in such a state, and I don’t want to drag you into this suffering.”

“Chuchu,” Ye Nianwen looked up, his vision blurred by tears, and his voice trembling, “We… we…”

“Ye Nianwen,” Zhao Chuchu turned around, her eyes red as she looked at the young man who couldn’t stop crying, “Do you like me?”

Ye Nianwen couldn’t speak. He was afraid to say he liked her because he feared that if he did, she wouldn’t want to leave.

But he also didn’t want her to stay.

Seeing his expression, Zhao Chuchu felt something well up inside her.