She Is Seriously Ill - Chapter 3:

Chapter 03:

Can I come up?

After finishing the first scene the next morning, Jiang Chen sat on the edge of a flower bed to rest. She fished a fruit candy from her pocket, unwrapped it, and tossed it into her mouth. Just as she turned to ask Tang Jing for the script, a familiar figure caught her eye from her peripheral vision.

Unlike the curious students who had been watching earlier, this person looked completely at ease, as if unaware that celebrities were filming nearby—merely passing by the set.

Jiang Chen let out a soft hum and lowered her head. Give me the script.

Tang Jing had also spotted Chen Guo. She handed over the script and averted her gaze. Did you two meet last night?

Jiang Chen gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

As Jiang Chen’s agent and closest friend, Tang Jing naturally didn’t want to see her repeat past mistakes. But she had witnessed Jiang Chen’s state over the past few years.

Tang Jing’s lips twitched, as if she’d resigned herself to the situation, or perhaps was trying to advise Jiang Chen: It’s been so long. If you can’t let go, then have a proper talk.

Jiang Chen remained silent.

Tang Jing glanced at her. Did the talk not go well?

Jiang Chen tried to bite through the candy but failed. She exhaled softly. She said she didn’t know I was filming at the school. Do you believe that?

Tang Jing pressed her lips together and spoke fairly: You’ve known for a while, ever since Jiang Yun told you, that she teaches at Jinyuan. Yet you pretended not to know and never went to see her.

Jiang Chen lowered her eyes. It’s not the same.

Tang Jing fell silent.

In truth, she knew this wasn’t the main issue. The problems between these two went far beyond who would lower their pride first or who would apologize to resolve things.

Has Chen Guo matured at all since coming back? Tang Jing changed the subject.

Jiang Chen suddenly let out a cold laugh, remembering how she’d seen herself covered in red marks in the mirror that morning, forcing her to keep her shirt buttoned up tightly on set.

Matured? What a joke.

Years ago, Jiang Chen had already known Chen Guo was no easy person.

·

Jiang Chen first heard the name Chen Guo from her mother, Dai Xiaoqin.

After her older sister Jiang Yun went through a failed marriage, she had been emotionally scarred and remained single for many years. Then, at the start of the year, she coincidentally ran into her first love from her student days during a charity event. Though they hadn’t seen each other in years, they surprisingly hit it off. After more than half a year of dating, Jiang Yun finally opened her heart again and decided to enter marriage once more.

Jiang Yun’s new fiancé taught Chinese at a middle school. He was gentle and honest, with decent qualifications overall—except that he had a child, a girl, already grown up and about to start her final year of high school. A child that age wasn’t exactly hard to support.

Still, since she wasn’t his biological daughter, Dai Xiaoqin felt somewhat uncomfortable. She had complained to Jiang Chen about it several times: His child is already so old. No matter how well we treat her, there’s no guarantee she’ll remember our kindness in the future. Everyone knows how tough it is to be a stepmother—putting in effort and getting no appreciation.

Jiang Chen tried to console her: Mom, it’s rare for my sister to fall for someone. In this matter, we must support and trust her.

That’s what she said, but whenever Dai Xiaoqin thought of her eldest daughter’s unfortunate experiences, she couldn’t help but feel heartbroken. My Yunyun has had such a hard life. If it weren’t for missing a leg, why would she settle for someone so far beneath her—

She stopped abruptly, as if realizing something. She looked up at Jiang Chen, whose face had turned pale, and sniffled as she explained, Chenchen, Mom didn’t mean to blame you when I said that.

Mom. Jiang Chen lowered her head, her lips twisting bitterly. I know.

Since both Jiang Yun and Gao Yuliang were remarrying, and Jiang Yun disliked ostentation, the wedding banquet was kept simple—only close friends and relatives were invited to celebrate.

On the wedding day, Jiang Yun wore her prosthetic leg and a red dress. Her face was rosy and full, radiating excellent spirits. When it was time to make toasts, Gao Yuliang, feeling sorry that Jiang Yun would tire from standing all day, insisted on pushing her in a wheelchair. Jiang Yun initially resisted, but upon seeing the genuine smile on Gao Yuliang’s face, she changed her mind and nodded in acceptance.

It was clear that Jiang Yun was deeply happy at that moment. Jiang Chen felt profoundly moved, along with an inexplicable sense of relief—she knew that only if her sister was well, would she be well too.

Seeing that she wasn’t needed there for the moment, Jiang Chen left the banquet and went to the stairwell for a smoke. As soon as she pushed the door open, she noticed someone sitting on the steps below. Jiang Chen paused, considering finding another spot.

The person turned around at the sound—a young girl with red-rimmed eyes, clearly having just cried. She looked like a delicate, tear-streaked flower, yet her gaze was sharp and cold, filled with wariness.

Jiang Chen frowned, hesitating for a second between staying and leaving, but finally asked, Are you Chen Guo?

Recognizing who it was, Chen Guo’s expression softened almost instantly. A smile gradually spread across her face, her eyes turning gentle. She stood up and greeted obediently, Auntie.

Jiang Chen was taken aback, marveling at how quickly the girl’s mood had shifted. Ah, yes.

After responding, she glanced at the tear tracks on Chen Guo’s face. What’s wrong? Did someone bully you?

No. Chen Guo looked at Jiang Chen, her eyelashes fluttering slowly as she smiled and asked, Auntie, did you have a good lunch?

…

Jiang Chen’s mouth twitched. She lowered her head uncomfortably, her brow slightly furrowed.

To put it plainly, she didn’t much like Gao Yuliang’s daughter.

She had met Chen Guo before, when the two families had dinner together. The girl was quite tall but very thin, like a bean sprout, which made her dark, bright eyes stand out even more.

Since the girl’s character would affect her sister’s marital harmony, Jiang Chen had observed her closely during the meal.

Chen Guo hadn’t spoken much at the table, but her eyes had followed whoever was talking. Whenever someone called her name or served her food, she would immediately look up and say thank you with a smile.

Near the end of the meal, she suddenly presented an elegantly wrapped gift box with a luxury brand logo, saying it was for Jiang Yun.

Jiang Yun, familiar with the brand and aware of its high cost, looked uncertainly at Gao Yuliang beside her. Gao Yuliang appeared equally surprised and asked Chen Guo where she had gotten the money for such an expensive gift.

After hesitating, Chen Guo said she had earned it through a part-time job.

The gesture deeply moved Jiang Yun. Even Dai Xiaoqin later changed her opinion, saying the girl was thoughtful and would probably be easy to get along with.

But Jiang Chen couldn’t bring herself to like her. Perhaps it was from reading too many scripts and unconsciously developing a habit of overanalyzing people’s motives, but she always felt the girl was deeply calculating, her eyes revealing a shrewdness and cunning that didn’t belong to someone her age.

But then she remembered what Jiang Yun had told her that night—that Chen Guo was also a pitiable child. Her parents divorced when she was four, and she followed her mother, changing her surname. Her mother later went through two more marriages, neither of which were particularly happy. It wasn’t until last year, when her mother passed away from illness, that she was sent back to her biological father.

A child raised in such circumstances would find it hard to have a simple, untroubled mind. Jiang Chen bit her lip, feeling that some prejudices were unwarranted. Besides, as the elder, what was the point of holding so much against a child?

After a moment of reflection, she looked up and invited, Would you like some ice cream?

Chen Guo was visibly taken aback, staring at Jiang Chen in stunned silence for a long while.

Jiang Chen smiled at her. Let’s go.

Worried about being recognized by fans and causing unnecessary commotion, Jiang Chen didn’t go far. She took Chen Guo to the dessert shop downstairs in the hotel and ordered an ice cream cake.

When the server brought the cake over and set it in front of her, Chen Guo only stared at it without touching her fork. It wasn’t until Jiang Chen gently urged her to eat that she finally picked up the fork, took a small bite, and immediately showed a subtle change in expression—though she quickly masked it.

Watching her, Jiang Chen felt a pang of sadness. She called her name softly, Chen Guo.

Chen Guo immediately looked up at her.

Jiang Chen smiled warmly and said, I know it’s hard to adjust to a new environment right away, and it’s even harder to immediately think of us as family. So don’t force yourself—just take things as they come. Everything takes time.

Chen Guo pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Jiang Chen didn’t push for an immediate response, instead encouraging her to finish the cake. After they finished, the two returned to the banquet hall together. Before pushing the door open, Jiang Chen gave Chen Guo’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

People only need to smile when they’re happy. If you don’t feel like smiling later, you don’t have to.

Such a rule doesn’t hold in the adult world, but children have that privilege.

Children are free, innocent, and unrestrained—they can express all kinds of emotions and speak their minds. It’s a pity Chen Guo had never learned how.

Hao Xinyi had no classes that evening. Before leaving, she placed two cheese sticks on Chen Guo’s desk. Teacher Chen, these are for your late-night snack.

Chen Guo only had one self-study session that night, but it was the last one, meaning she had to sit through two classes in a row. Hao Xinyi expressed deep sympathy. Hang in there—you’re the best!

Chen Guo smiled. You can have them. I ate a lot for dinner and don’t have any appetite right now.

Just leave them there—don’t be so polite! Didn’t you treat me to spicy strips this afternoon? Hao Xinyi waved her hand, picked up her bag, and headed out. Bye! Don’t miss me too much, and remember to eat those, okay?

Alright. Chen Guo chuckled softly, tucked the cheese sticks into her pocket, and lowered her head to continue preparing her lessons.

By the time evening self-study ended, it was almost ten o’clock. As Chen Guo walked out of the school gate, she spotted the same car again—same license plate, same spot.

Pressing her lips together, she walked over and tapped on the car window.

The car door opened directly. Jiang Chen glanced at her and said, Get in. Sit in the front.

Okay.

It was as if nothing had happened the night before. Chen Guo got in, looked at Jiang Chen, and said politely, Auntie, are you off work now?

Yeah. Jiang Chen’s throat moved slightly as she turned to look out the window. Why are you so late today?

Chen Guo replied, I had a class tonight.

Jiang Chen nodded to indicate she understood. Chen Guo lowered her gaze, returning to the familiar question, Did you eat dinner?

No.

Feeling unusually tired today, Chen Guo paused at Jiang Chen’s response before immediately snapping alert. She turned to ask, What would you like to eat? I can cook for you.

Jiang Chen glanced sideways at her. No need. I don’t eat at night.

Chen Guo’s mind felt heavy as she slowly turned back, staring at the car’s dashboard ornament. Auntie, skipping dinner isn’t good for your health.

Jiang Chen remained silent.

The car fell quiet. Chen Guo lowered her eyelids, leaning her head lightly against the window as she gazed outside, her thoughts drifting. By the time she regained awareness, the car had already stopped at Yongjin Garden.

Turning back, she found Jiang Chen looking at her with a tense, serious expression that carried an indescribable gravity.

Chen Guo’s heart gave a violent jolt. She slowly sat upright and asked, May I come up?

Jiang Chen withdrew her gaze and unbuckled her seatbelt. Get out.

Stepping out of the elevator, both their footsteps inexplicably quickened. The entry door swiftly opened and closed behind them, immediately enveloping Chen Guo in a familiar scent.

…

Jiang Chen pressed Chen Guo against the wall, kissing and nibbling recklessly before demanding breathlessly, You knew I was filming there, yet you wandered over three times a day. Do you really love parading right under my nose that much?

The storm was slightly fiercer than Chen Guo had anticipated. Jiang Chen’s chest heaved noticeably, and she showed no mercy with her bites.

But Chen Guo was insensitive to pain, not even flinching. She gently wrapped her arms around Jiang Chen’s waist. I was just passing by.

Jiang Chen knew this person was full of empty talk, yet couldn’t help retorting, The campus is so large, what a coincidence that everywhere you go happens to pass by the athletic field.

Mhm. Chen Guo buried her face against Jiang Chen’s neck, nuzzling and murmuring, Are you really not hungry?

Jiang Chen answered evasively, Not sleepy anymore?

Chen Guo shook her head. I was never sleepy to begin with.

Perfect timing then.