Chapter 78: Which Is More Expensive—Bentley or Bugatti?

Pregnancy—so that explained everything.

The haggard look, the scattered emotions, the constant trips to the bathroom to vomit, and that night... when she desperately called Du Bin to the old house.

It all matched up.

Zhou Lichuan slammed his palm against the steering wheel, stopped at a red light, and slapped himself hard across the face.

What on earth had he done?

He sped along the edge of the speed limit, the pitch-black Bentley weaving through the night. Zhou Lichuan was frantic, his mind no longer functioning—nothing remained except regret and self-reproach.

...

Jiang Zao lay on the sofa, eating fruit while scrolling through Weibo. These past few days, she’d repeatedly visited that small account which had once posted the picture “Ephemeral Dreams,” reading every post with great care.

The painting still had no title, but Jiang Zao had decided to call it “Ephemeral Dreams.”

Aunt Hui was still busy washing and cleaning. Even though there were only two people in the house and not much to do, Aunt Hui always managed to find something that needed her attention, never able to sit still.

Jiang Zao tried to persuade her, “Aunt Hui, you don’t need to be so busy. Leave the laundry for tomorrow—it's not like we go out much, so there aren’t that many dirty clothes.”

Aunt Hui came out, drying her hands. “The washing’s already done. I’ll just spin and hang them out. Once you’ve changed, you should wash them—tomorrow will bring its own chores. You sit down; I’ll go downstairs to take out the trash.”

Jiang Zao sat up, trying to stop her. “It’s so dark outside, and there’s ice on the ground—what if you fall? Just leave it for the morning.”

Aunt Hui shook her head. “Garbage should be taken out; it’s unhealthy to let it pile up. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful and won’t fall.”

Unable to stop her, Jiang Zao could only let her go.

Aunt Hui had been working as domestic help in the Zhou family—a wealthy clan—ever since she started working. She’d always maintained a certain sense of class distance with her employers.

This was something Jiang Zao only noticed after living alone with Aunt Hui.

By instinct, Aunt Hui saw herself as belonging to a lesser class, never as an equal. If Jiang Zao hadn’t insisted otherwise, Aunt Hui wouldn’t even have sat at the same table to eat with her.

How deeply the old feudal codes had harmed people. The entrenched privileges of class were truly a cancer to society.

Muttering anti-rich sentiments to herself, she kept scrolling through Weibo. Spending too much time online, it felt as if her mind no longer belonged to her.

After a while, Aunt Hui returned, bundled in her thick winter jacket. She hung her coat on the rack by the door and came over, rubbing her hands together.

Jiang Zao looked up at her. “What’s wrong? Did you fall?”

---

Aunt Hui shook her head, hesitating. “No, I didn’t fall. I saw... a car. A Bentley. Black.”

Jiang Zao popped the last bite of banana into her mouth, showing no change in expression.

“Oh, a Bentley isn’t that expensive—there are plenty on the street. The Bugatti Meng Qiaochong drove the other day was far more extravagant. Now, that’s a real luxury car.”

Aunt Hui was momentarily at a loss for words. That black Bentley was custom-made... there was only one in the entire country...

Jiang Zao picked up a cherry tomato and held it out to Aunt Hui. “This one’s really sweet, try it.”

Aunt Hui accepted the tomato, hesitated a moment, and sat down beside Jiang Zao.

“Miss Jiang, don’t you want to know what the Bentley’s owner had to say?”

Jiang Zao took another tomato for herself. “Shen Mushi told me everything on New Year’s Day—he explained Zhou Lichuan’s illness from start to finish, nothing left out.”

Aunt Hui, having stayed in the kitchen to avoid awkwardness, hadn’t heard the conversation in the living room and was a little confused.

“So, Miss Jiang, are you still upset?”

Jiang Zao smiled. “I can’t even say I’m angry. I’m disappointed. That’s different. Aunt Hui, don’t worry about him. If he wants to stay, let him stay. Tomorrow, Li Mingyi will make a scene at the Zhou house, so at the latest, he’ll have to go home tomorrow morning.”

Aunt Hui nodded. She really didn’t understand how Jiang Zao and Zhou Lichuan ended up like this. She’d never seen a couple so loving fall apart so completely. In her world, unless there was cheating, abuse, or crime, no matter what, people had to make their marriage work.

Times had changed. Ideas had changed. The gulf caused by different ways of thinking was too vast for a rural woman nearing fifty to comprehend. She didn’t understand, but she knew how to respect others. Miss Jiang was so capable—she must have her reasons. There was too much she didn’t understand, so it was safest to just listen.

Jiang Zao refreshed her Weibo feed again. As expected, Zhou Lichuan had posted an update.

Just a single photo—a streetlamp, taken from inside a car.

Jiang Zao recognized it at a glance: it was the lamp at the entrance to their neighborhood.

Zhou Lichuan probably wanted to post something, typed and deleted, until only the photo remained.

Jiang Zao put down her food, returned to her room, sat at her desk, and started drawing on her tablet.

A digital version of “Ephemeral Dreams.”

She would paint the roses green, the grapes yellow, and the thorns blood-red.

---

If Zhou Lichuan became even more chaotic, she’d make everything blue.

That deep blue he loathed the most.

...

At ten in the morning, the Zhou family’s old house welcomed an expected but still surprising guest—Li Mingyi.

Just as he knocked at the door, his strikingly refined, mixed-heritage features catching the light, Zhou Lichuan’s car came to a steady stop in the parking lot.

Watching as the family’s housekeeper brought Li Mingyi inside, Zhou Lichuan silently lit a cigarette.

He had spent the night in his car, keeping watch over that room where the light stayed on.

Jiang Zao was afraid of the dark when she slept; she always left a nightlight on. That dim, yellow glow, in the depths of night, had become his only beacon.

When his cigarette burned out, Zhou Lichuan summoned his strength and headed inside.

He’d always known about Du Bin and Zhou Jiayan.

He’d known from the very beginning.

Though Zhou Jiayan was a bit hot-tempered, she was the little sister he’d watched grow up—the only sister he had. No matter what, she could not be wronged.

Since Jiang Zao had arranged things this way, of course he would support her fully.

Entering the living room, Li Mingyi had just sat down and was greeting Zhou Kuan and Zhou Huai with eager flattery. Zhou Jiayan stood off to the side, rolling her eyes—she clearly couldn’t stand him.

As Zhou Lichuan walked in, everyone stood up. He nodded lightly, acknowledging them, then sat and looked at Li Mingyi. “You’re here. I’ve never seen you come by during New Year’s before—growing older does bring some progress, I see.”

Li Mingyi looked slightly embarrassed, but still managed a cheerful front. “Getting older isn’t much if you don’t act on it. I should come see Uncle Zhou more often.”

Zhou Lichuan asked, “Which Uncle Zhou have you come to see? The Chairman, or the Vice President?”

Zhou Kuan interjected, “It’s the New Year. It’s good that you’re here—what does it matter who you visit? Anyone is fine. Xiao Li, what are you doing these days? Is everything well at your family’s company?”

Zhou Kuan’s enthusiasm was unusual. Shen Xiaonan, not wanting to watch, excused herself to wash fruit and left the room.