Lai Hui looked at her, speechless, wanting to comfort her but unable to find the words. Cheng Lan’s pain was something she understood all too well. Being a mistress meant being ostracized, blamed, and no matter how hard or sad it got, people would just say she deserved it. Indeed, why had Cheng Lan given up her job, family, and friends to become Ouyang Qing’s mistress? She could have had a good life. “Cheng Lan, leave him,” Lai Hui said, ignoring Cheng Lan’s shocked look. “Leave him, go back to your family and friends!”
Cheng Lan, still with tear tracks on her face, pushed her hair back from her forehead, her expression bitter. “Do you know? When I was in elementary school, my dream was to get into university; when I graduated, my dream was to have a decent job; after meeting Ouyang, my dream was to be with him; as his mistress, my dream was to one day be officially recognized! Lai Hui, I never give up on my dreams!” She took a large gulp of wine, red liquid trickling from her lips down her neck into her collar. “If one day, I could go to a restaurant with him without worry, watch a movie during the day, take a walk in the park in the evening, and no matter how late I wake up, he’s still in my bed, that would be enough! That would be enough!”
Lai Hui stopped trying to persuade her. If Cheng Lan’s love for Ouyang was a disease, it was terminal. She was not Hua Tuo, she had no miraculous cure, so for Cheng Lan’s ailment, she was powerless. She handed Cheng Lan a tissue from the table and noticed her phone flashing blue. Picking it up, she saw five missed calls from Zhou Yuqian. Puzzled, she wondered why he was calling on a Saturday. Did he leave something at her place? She dialed back, and after three rings, a low voice answered, “You finally picked up?”
“It was me who called you!” Lai Hui corrected. “Where are you now?”
