Chapter 197: Chapter 197: Family Portrait
Jiang Nanshu: “…”
[How am I supposed to respond to that? Do you expect me to just run with it now that you’re getting sentimental? The place where you decided our relationship is so close to me, 666.]
Jiang Nanshu hesitated, her mouth opening and closing without words, until she finally burst into sobs and threw herself into Lu Qingyan’s arms, “Wuwu, it hurts so much to know you were hurt so badly before, and the incident happened so close to me. Brother Qingyan, does it still hurt? I wish I had met you earlier.”
[Nevermind, as long as I can sob, no matter how great Bai Yueguang is, my brother will only feel heartache for me.]
Lu Qingyan held her with one arm around her back, his voice tender, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Jian Hemian saw the two getting cozy, laughed lightly, and looked at Lu Qingyan with a probing gaze.
Surprisingly, Lu Qingyan didn’t back down as their eyes met.
Shang Xu was boiling with jealousy.
Pointing at his own pudgy cheeks, he snorted, “Humph, Uncle is so shy, still needing to be hugged at his age, other little brothers are blushing.”
Following Shang Xu’s gesture, Lu Qingyan saw Ji Ze caught between advancing and retreating.
His face flushed, his eyes darted around but restlessly landed on Jiang Nanshu.
He had been downcast all night because his sister hadn’t replied to his message.
But now that she was here the next day, he felt a little thrill, though he kept his face expressionless.
Lu Qingyan looked down at Jiang Nanshu’s head and teased, “Are you sure you want to keep hugging? Your foster brother and foster parents are all watching.”
Jiang Nanshu: “…”
Her face flushed, and her toes curled awkwardly in embarrassment.
[I overacted and forgot they were still here.]
Jiang Nanshu calmly let go of Lu Qingyan and turned around only to see the foster family had come to the doorway.
They probably wanted to invite her in, but seeing her clinging and not easily parting with someone, they hesitated to interrupt.
Shang Xu tilted his head, eyes full of curiosity, “Auntie, your face is so red.”
Jiang Nanshu raised her hand and rubbed her face, which indeed felt hot, she pretended to frown in displeasure, “What a terrible place, it’s so hot.”
Mrs. Ji looked somewhat frail, her hair a bit messy, probably just out of bed; she slapped her forehead, avoiding Jiang Nanshu’s gaze, “Look at my memory, the countryside is hot, Old Ji, get the electric fan from inside, and Xiaoze, make some tea, we have a distinguished guest.”
After saying this, she hurried inside.
Ji Ze followed with a complex look,
His face reflecting a slight dejection.
He was glad Jiang Nanshu came to visit Mrs. Ji but was saddened by her indifferent attitude.
Because they had grown up together from childhood.
Any word from Jiang Nanshu could wound them.
[It’s really troubling, what should I do to be right? The foster mother is sick; what if my indifference makes her illness worse?]
[The original storyline was that her indifference made her sick. If I don’t follow that script, I can’t be too harsh.]
Jian Hemian found it rather strange.
He thought this family was quite decent, wondering why she didn’t want any familial affection.
Lost in thought, his phone pinged.
It was a message from Mr. Jiang.
It informed him that Jiang Leyi’s origin was not from the Ji family and asked him to subtly inquire about it from the Ji couple.
Jian Hemian’s eyes narrowed slightly, likely having discovered this from Jiang Nanshu’s inner thoughts.
He deleted the message and followed Jiang Nanshu into the two-story building.
The interior was simply decorated.
A wooden sofa with a cushion embroidered with the character “福,” an old television set, a calendar hanging on the wall, and a family portrait resting on the TV stand.
In the photo, the young girl’s features still seem youthful, appearing to be about thirteen or fourteen. She’s wearing a bright red cotton jacket, her two braids secured with strawberry-shaped hair clips, sitting between her smiling parents, affectionately linking their arms.
Ji Ze seemed to be only about ten years old, nestled in Mrs. Ji’s embrace.
The photo must have been taken around the New Year.
A ceiling fan creaked as it spun, bringing in a cool breeze.
Jiang Nanshu’s gaze shifted from the family portrait.
She remembered that day; it was half a month into her winter break when she was in junior high.
Their teacher had assigned a project called “My Family Portrait.”
As soon as Jiang Nanshu mentioned it to her parents, they immediately dressed in their best clothes. Mrs. Ji even styled her hair, and the family cheerfully headed to the photo studio to take this picture.
Ji Ze quickly grabbed the portrait; he was afraid Jiang Nanshu would be upset and throw the photo away.
He swiftly placed it in a drawer below the TV stand.
Jiang Nanshu was somewhat amused; she wouldn’t go crazy enough to throw away a photo, right?
Besides, she looked so nice in it; she couldn’t bear to part with it.
She pretended not to notice Ji Ze’s subtle maneuver.
Father Ji brought out several steaming cups of tea from the kitchen.
“We didn’t know you were coming and haven’t prepared anything special, I hope you don’t mind,” Father Ji, moving slowly, his dark face full of simplicity, offered, “Miss Jiang, have some tea.”
This address as “Miss Jiang” made Mrs. Ji lower her head.
Ji Ze quietly passed her a tissue.
His eyes could not hide his sadness; he wasn’t sure if asking Jiang Nanshu to come back was right or wrong. Watching his parents grow older, his mother cleaning Jiang Nanshu’s room every day, and his father always cooking an extra portion, Ji Ze felt a sting in his eyes.
He knew his parents missed his sister deeply.
Lately, Mrs. Ji had been ill, sometimes immobile; when slightly better, she would continue cleaning, knowing fully that Jiang Nanshu might not return—this behavior rooted in her, unwavering despite persuasion.
He thought Jiang Nanshu’s return would make them happy, but it seemed somewhat… contrary to his hopes.
Jiang Nanshu took a deep breath, her voice somewhat muffled, “Hmm, thank you.”
The air was still.
Jian Hemian and Lu Qingyan seemed quite comfortable, showing no unease.
Seeing the awkward silence, Jiang Nanshu calmly spoke, “You don’t have to call me Miss Jiang. Just Nannan is fine.”
Father Ji and Mrs. Ji exchanged a puzzled look.
They used to call her “Nannan.” They started calling her “Miss Jiang” three years ago, after a harsh winter when their fledgling pig farm resulted in many deaths, causing them to lose over a hundred thousand yuan. Father Ji slipped and broke his leg in his distraught state.
Treating the leg would cost about two hundred thousand yuan.
There was no money at home, with both children still in school.
Jiang Nanshu, then a high school freshman, and Ji Ze, a middle schooler, rushed home from school because of his injury.
Jiang Nanshu urged him to go to the hospital and offered to borrow money when they couldn’t afford it.
Father Ji couldn’t bear to let his young daughter borrow money everywhere, so he refused and in his frustration declared he wouldn’t treat his leg.
Unbeknownst to them, the stubborn girl went to the mountains to find medicinal herbs for his leg and was found the next day in a ditch, bloodied and unconscious.
When she finally regained consciousness, she insisted on returning to Beijing to find her relatives.
She wanted to sever ties with them and demanded they never call her “Nannan” again, only “Miss Jiang.”
Father Ji had always regretted it.
If he hadn’t spoken in anger, Jiang Nanshu wouldn’t have run away, and he wouldn’t have lost a daughter.