Chapter 79: Perhaps I Prefer Missing You to Seeing You

Qu Wuyan felt uneasy as she listened to Fan Chi speak so fondly and intimately of Lian Meng, and said, “Hmph, stop making Lian Meng out to be some kind of saint. Do you really think she’s that gentle and tolerant? She only acted that way because she was pregnant then—afraid you’d harm her child. If we hadn’t finished her off back then, the ones dead now would be the two of us.”

Fan Chi knew full well that Qu Wuyan’s words, unpleasant as they were, were also true.

Lian Meng’s kindness was reserved for those who had never hurt her. She was no saint; she was someone who repaid every slight. At the mention of Lian Meng, Fan Chi couldn’t help but picture Quan Qing’er in his mind.

No matter how much Quan Qing’er made herself up to look like Lian Meng, no matter how she dressed, he simply couldn’t see her as Lian Meng. Only when he looked at Lian Youyou would he catch faint glimpses of Lian Meng.

However, that day outside the hotel, meeting Quan Qing’er again had left him with a sense of renewal, almost the illusion that Lian Meng had returned…

Just then, there was a knock at the door of the hospital room.

“Who is it?” Qu Wuyan asked instinctively.

Fan Chi didn’t answer, but walked over and opened the door.

When Fan Chi returned, the person following behind him made Qu Wuyan lose her composure.

“What are you doing here?” Qu Wuyan stared in panic at the beaming Quan Qing’er, hastily covering her face. “Husband! Get her out! Make her leave!”

She didn’t want anyone to see her like this.

Who was she?

She was Qu Wuyan, the Queen of the Silver Screen! On television, she was glamorous and dazzling, adored by countless fans, chased after by magazines for photo shoots. She was not supposed to look this ridiculous! In the public eye, she was meant to be the epitome of beauty!

“I invited her,” Fan Chi said. “Qing’er is one of us.”

Qu Wuyan raked her seaweed-like curls over her forehead, letting them fall to cover the left side of her face, so that her ruined eye would not be seen.

Looking at Quan Qing’er’s misty, alluring eyes, Qu Wuyan felt her anger rising. She lowered her head, afraid that if she looked any longer, she would be unable to resist gouging those seductive eyes out with a knife.

“One of us? Ha,” Qu Wuyan said through clenched teeth. “She’s only one of yours, isn’t she?”

An artist who’s been blacklisted—what right does she have to call herself ‘one of us’?

Quan Qing’er, unfazed, smiled and placed the fruit basket and bouquet on the bedside table. “I came in a hurry and didn’t know what to bring you, Sister Qu…”

“Who wants your things?” Qu Wuyan snatched the fruit basket and threw it hard to the floor, sending fruit rolling everywhere. “You just came to laugh at me, didn’t you? Well, you’ve seen enough—now get out!”

Quan Qing’er bent down to pick up an apple, sighed, and said, “Sister Qu, I know you’re upset. I truly have no ill intentions—I just came to see you, whether you believe it or not.”

“Are you out of your mind? Your injuries aren’t Qing’er’s doing—why take it out on her?” Fan Chi’s face darkened as an orange thrown by Qu Wuyan struck his shin. “Do you think the whole world owes you? Would you only be satisfied if everyone plucked out their eyes in front of you to balance the scales?”

“Never mind, Director Fan, don’t be angry with Sister Qu,” Quan Qing’er said magnanimously, pulling Fan Chi back as he was about to argue with Qu Wuyan. “She’s ill right now. Patients are always in a bad mood—you should be more understanding and take better care of her…”

“I don’t need your crocodile tears!” Seeing Fan Chi taking Quan Qing’er’s side, Qu Wuyan finally broke down, roaring, “Get out! Both of you, get out of here! I don’t need your fake concern!”

Having screamed herself hoarse, Qu Wuyan buried her face in the blanket and began to sob uncontrollably.

This time, Fan Chi obeyed. Since Qu Wuyan told him to leave, he put his arm around Quan Qing’er and walked out of the ward.

Before leaving, Fan Chi threw back, “Feeling sorry for yourself now, are you? When you forced Qing’er to abort my family’s child, did you ever think you’d face retribution one day?”

Qu Wuyan let out a deafening howl: “Get out—!”

No sooner had Fan Chi and Quan Qing’er closed the door than the sound of things being smashed erupted from the room.

“Qing’er, don’t mind her—she’s just a shrew,” Fan Chi said. “You know how she’s always been. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Director Fan, I have things to do and need to go,” Quan Qing’er replied, donning her sunglasses. “Now that Sister Qu’s career is over because of her illness, you should talk to her more. Help her come to terms with it.”

“Where are you going? …Let me give you a ride,” Fan Chi offered, though his voice wavered.

He wanted to ask what she could possibly have to do, now that she’d been blacklisted and wasn’t working at all.

But since he was the one who’d blacklisted her, he didn’t have the nerve to ask.

“I’m going to the calligraphy and painting exhibition,” Quan Qing’er said, pulling two tickets from her bag. “But my friend had something come up last minute and can’t go. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bought two tickets.”

An art exhibition?

Back when Lian Meng was alive, her favorite events were traditional Chinese calligraphy and painting exhibitions.

Lian Meng’s father—his own father-in-law, Lian Changsheng—was the grand-disciple of the renowned artist Qi Baishi. Lian Changsheng was famed for his calligraphy and was an exceptional painter.

“When did you start liking traditional culture, Qing’er?”

“I’ve always liked it. It’s just that when I was with you, you didn’t care for it, so I never brought it up.”

“Who says I don’t like it? I love traditional art! In fact, I happen to be free today—let me go with you to the exhibition,” Fan Chi said at once.

“But…” Quan Qing’er hesitated, glancing out the corridor window at the reporters downstairs. “If you go out with me now, won’t the media make a big deal of it?”

Fan Chi took her hand and led her in another direction. “I have a way. There’s a back door here—I’ll take you that way.”

Quan Qing’er didn’t understand how Lian Youyou, who had barely seen her mother since birth, could know so much about the past between Lian Meng and Fan Chi, and about all of Lian Meng’s habits and interests.

But she did know that among all of Fan Chi’s women, the one who mattered most to him was still the late Lian Meng.

Perhaps it was only because Lian Meng was gone that Fan Chi cherished her so much.

If Lian Meng were still alive, perhaps Fan Chi would treat her just as he treated Qu Wuyan now—finding her nagging, resenting her aging looks, hating that she always outshone him in her career…

A man like Fan Chi, as a song goes: Perhaps I prefer to remember you than to see you; perhaps I’d rather imagine you than have you.

A few days later, in a small Japanese noodle shop, Lian Youyou sat at a table on the second floor near the bookshelf, leisurely reading a comic book.

Lian Youyou kept her head down, engrossed in her book, never once glancing at Fan Chi. “You’re the one who asked to meet, and yet you’re half an hour late.”

Fan Chi, wiping sweat from his brow, sat down across from her. “I hurried as much as I could—traffic was terrible.”

A waiter came with menus, but Fan Chi waved him away.

Lian Youyou turned a page and said, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Fan Chi inwardly cursed her lack of respect, but on the surface, he forced himself to be patient. “Youyou, what’s with that attitude? Can’t a father ask his daughter out for a meal for no reason?”

Lian Youyou closed her book, her expression blank. “It’s not mealtime. There’s no one else here. You don’t need to pretend. Say what you came to say, and don’t beat around the bush.”

“Fine, I’ll get to the point,” Fan Chi said slowly. “Youyou, how about quitting Xincheng and coming over to Yunyan…?”

“No,” Lian Youyou replied flatly and without hesitation.

Not only did she not want to go now—even if Yunyan were the only management company left in the world, she still wouldn’t go. She would rather switch careers than join Yunyan.

“Don’t be so hasty, Youyou. Hear me out,” Fan Chi coaxed. “I don’t know what benefits that old Li gave you to make you stay at Xincheng. But Youyou, Richard is still an outsider. He’s a businessman—whatever he does, his own interests come first. He won’t really put you first. But I’m different—we’re father and daughter, bound by blood. No matter what, I’ll always put you first.”