Chapter 9: No More Illusions
After her shower, Gan Qi put on a crimson knit sweater with three-quarter sleeves, a khaki linen skirt that brushed mid-calf, and a pair of white sneakers. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in the dance studio, she paused. Her long, straight black hair cascaded down her back. For the first time in years, she took out a compact and applied a light, natural makeup. Her skin glowed—flawless and radiant. Her lips, as red and dewy as rose petals, hinted at a hidden sensuality. She was petite, graceful, yet undeniably curvaceous—nothing like the image of a tired, childbearing woman.
How long had it been since she looked at herself—really looked? With Neria's tall, seductive figure beside her every day, she had convinced herself she was nothing more than a supporting role, a plain little duckling.
"Stunning."
The voice startled her.
She spun around to see Yang Xing behind her, his eyes full of admiration.
"When did you get here?" she asked, flustered like a child caught doing something wrong. She instinctively lowered her head.
"I've been here for a while," he teased. "Even knocked. But you were too busy falling in love with yourself to hear me."
That only made her want to sink into the ground.
Yang Xing stepped closer, gently lifting her chin. "The little girl I knew has grown up. Looking beautiful isn't a crime, Qi. Hold your head high. Be proud."
Her eyes moistened. She turned away quickly, not wanting him to see. The love she had yearned for at nineteen, now gently offered at twenty-nine by a different man—how precious it felt.
Just as he had promised, he took her around the city: Golden Eagle World Center, Wuhu Railway Station, the Science Museum, the Grand Theatre, the Olympic Park—landmarks that hadn't even existed when she left. Each place shimmered with modern elegance. Yang Xing marveled at China's transformation, saying it was surpassing even the developed world. He wanted to relocate his work here, expand beyond the dance studio, perhaps open an English language school to share what he had learned abroad.
He told her about the funny and awkward things he encountered overseas, and she listened with genuine delight. They laughed, connected—but never once mentioned their personal lives. Not a single word about love, marriage, or partners.
As they walked back to the village, intending to ask Granny Fang more about the discovery of her aunt's body, a voice called from behind.
"Gan Qi!"
They turned. It was her cousin Li and her younger brother Zhe—now a graceful 25-year-old woman and a strapping 23-year-old man. Ten years had changed them.
"My mother's body isn't even cold yet," Li sneered, "and my dear cousin's too busy rekindling an old flame to lay her to rest."
She had just seen their mother's horrific remains and was clearly still shaken, but instead of grief, she lashed out at Gan Qi, all traces of yesterday's pleading tone gone.
"I was waiting for you to come back so we could arrange things together," Gan Qi said calmly. "Didn't you want to say goodbye to Aunt one last time?"
They had grown up together, but the years of being dismissed and hit by her aunt had taught her not to expect kindness from her cousins. She never resisted, but there was no love between them either.
"Where's your husband?" Li asked bluntly. She hadn't even looked at Gan Qi properly, clearly more interested in meeting the "big shot" Lu Qingxiang.
"He's busy. He couldn't come."
Gan Qi glanced at Yang Xing. She knew the truth wouldn't stay buried much longer.
Together, the four of them registered the death and made arrangements for the funeral the next day.
At the cousins' insistence, Yang Xing drove them to the city's most luxurious five-star hotel for check-in—all expenses covered by Gan Qi.
Back at the dance studio, she was quiet. Though Yang Xing pretended not to notice, she knew she owed him an explanation. But where could she begin? That she was married? That her marriage barely existed in any meaningful way? That she had money, yet none of it was truly hers?
As she packed her things, planning to move to the hotel, Yang Xing gently patted her head.
"If you want to stay with your cousins, go ahead. But if you don't, you're always welcome here. You don't have to explain anything you're not ready to say."
She shook her head. Again and again.
She didn't want to stay with her cousins. But she couldn't stay with him either. Not when her marital status had been exposed. It was all too complicated. There was no more excuse to linger by his side, no more reason to be alone together. Distance was the only option now.
The next day brought solemn faces, polite bows, and quiet condolences. The funeral was attended mostly by neighborhood elders like Granny Fang. Her cousins gave brief, tearful speeches, and soon the body was taken for cremation. Her aunt—the only blood relative who had ever taken care of her—was gone. Suddenly, she missed Xing Hao terribly.
She called home. He answered. She told her son she would return the next day.
That evening, she joined her cousins at the hotel for dinner. Gone was the solemn grief—they arrived at the banquet hall dressed to the nines, ordering the most expensive dishes from the chef's recommendations. Gan Qi, by contrast, only ordered a bowl of soup. For ten years, every cent Qingxiang had sent had gone to support their lavish lifestyles—even now, after those indulgences may have played a part in her aunt's death. They needed to learn from this. She couldn't keep enabling them. And she was tired of Qingxiang thinking she had married him for money.
She decided to put an end to it.
"Li, Zhe, it's been so long. You've both grown so much—handsome, elegant. I can finally stop worrying about you…"
Sensing where this was going, Li jumped in with a syrupy smile.
"Oh, cousin, you've changed so much! So classy, so poised—definitely the lady of a rich household! Me? I'm not so lucky. My boyfriend just proposed, but we can't even afford a house. How are we supposed to get married?"
She batted her eyes, clearly fishing.
"How much do you want?" Gan Qi asked bluntly.
Li's eyes lit up. "Well, you know… in the UK, a decent place is at least ten million yuan."
Even prepared, Gan Qi was stunned by the greed.
"Don't you have savings? How about this—you each pay one-third, I'll cover one-third. That's three million. No more. And from now on, don't come to me for anything."
Li pouted but saw the unshakable determination in her cousin's eyes—and stayed silent.
"Um… I just graduated," Zhe piped up. "You know how hard jobs are to find these days. Maybe… maybe brother-in-law could—"
"No," Gan Qi cut in coldly. "Three million. That's it. Whether it's a business, a wedding, or a house—it ends here."
For the first time, they saw a side of her that radiated authority. Awed into silence, they took the check and muttered insincere goodbyes.
At last, the shadows of her aunt's household were gone. A weight lifted from her chest. Though she still owed Qingxiang, it was a debt she could never truly repay.
Since last night—after her silent rejection—Yang Xing hadn't contacted her. He hadn't even come to the funeral. She thought about seeing him one last time before leaving—but then figured, what was the point? They probably wouldn't meet again, and it would only make the goodbye harder.
She sent him a final message:
"I'm heading back to Shanghai. Thank you for everything these past few days—your help, your kindness, your shelter. Take care."
Goodbye, childhood.
Gan Qi pulled her suitcase behind her and stepped onto the road home.