Chapter Thirty-Three: Two Women, One Stage

From the ordinary, even somewhat shabby clothes worn by the woman and the patched garments on the child, it was not difficult to discern that their living conditions were far from good. Dong Xue, the mother of Fan Yirou, was adept at reading people, and with a single glance, she recognized that the impoverished appearance of the two was no disguise, but the result of years of hardship.

Yet, despite their modest attire, Dong Xue could see in their eyes a longing for the comfort and beauty of her own home, an envy mingled with hope. The woman’s gaze betrayed even more—a complex tangle of jealousy, resentment, anticipation, and other emotions.

“Sigh…” Dong Xue let out a deep breath inwardly. “Truly someone who doesn’t know how to hide her feelings.”

Seeing that the woman had not spoken, Dong Xue instructed the servant to take the child to Fan Yirou’s room, where toys were kept, and then turned to her guest. “You needn’t be so tense. Please, relax. Perhaps you won’t believe me, but honestly, I hold no grudge against you. I can tell you must have encountered some difficulty, which compelled you to come here. I suppose you already know my name is Dong Xue. And you, how should I address you?”

She finished with a warm, genuine smile, hoping to convey her sincerity.

The woman was surprised by Dong Xue’s reaction, but her words and smile gradually eased her anxiety. After all, she had come here herself—what reason was there to cower any longer?

She took a deep breath and finally summoned the courage to lift her head, which had been bowed for so long. “My name… It’s been years since anyone called me by my real name. If not for my identification card, I might have forgotten it myself.

My real name is Zhang Xia… Just an ordinary name, nothing more. Most people call me Feifei, which says enough about what I do.”

Dong Xue could hear the deep-seated self-abasement in her voice, an inferiority rooted in her very bones. Perhaps she did not always show it, but Dong Xue’s presence seemed to weigh heavily upon her.

“That little boy…” Dong Xue thought for a moment, deciding it was best to be direct. Beating around the bush would only waste time, and since the woman had come deliberately while her husband was out, it was clear she wished to avoid him. “That little boy is your child with Fan Jian… isn’t he?”

Zhang Xia hadn’t expected such directness, nor the absence of anger or blame in Dong Xue’s tone—only curiosity. She had prepared herself for rage, but Dong Xue remained calm.

Somewhat bewildered, Zhang Xia nodded instinctively. “Yes.”

“When did it happen?” Dong Xue asked, still composed.

Without hesitation, Zhang Xia told her the time—and even the place—where she and Fan Jian had been together.

Dong Xue immediately recalled the one occasion when her husband had failed to return home all night. Though Fan Jian often traveled for work, he had always made it a habit, no matter how late, to return home before dawn. That night had been the sole exception, and afterward, he could not remember what had happened. Both had been left with a shadow in their hearts.

Their worries had not been unfounded, and now, it seemed, fate had indeed left a mark—a debt born of that night.

“Would you mind telling me what happened that night?” Dong Xue asked. “And I’d like to hear your story as well. Of course, if you’d rather not, I won’t press you.”

“I…” Zhang Xia paused, searching for words. So many years had passed, her memories of that time were unclear. Her account was halting, often interrupted by reflection, and sometimes contradictory, forcing her to correct herself repeatedly.

Yet the gist of her story was not unusual, echoing the experiences of countless others. Zhang Xia had not originally been a woman of the streets, nor a native of Xindu. She had come from another place, hoping to see the city’s splendor—and, if fortune favored her, to carve out a new life.

But like so many young women with such naïve dreams, she soon discovered how distant reality was from her ideals—so distant as to seem unattainable.

Most would eventually yield to reality, disheartened, packing their belongings and returning home, perhaps to marry and start a family, or move elsewhere to begin anew.

Some would choose to remain in Xindu, trying every possible job to eke out a living. Such people often rented a tiny room, less than five square meters, in a basement with acquaintances or strangers. The sun never reached them, there was no private bathroom or shower, and even the clothes hanging inside never truly dried. Yet despite these hardships, they persisted for the sake of their dreams.

Among them were those who, unable to endure, abandoned their ideals but refused to leave Xindu. Zhang Xia was one of these. Once a dancer, she had dreamed of starring on a grand stage.

After years of struggle, she could only secure minor roles in small theaters, never as the lead. Only then did Zhang Xia realize that without special opportunity, her dream would remain just that—a dream.

Worse still, as if her luck had run out, she could not even get those small theater jobs anymore. If things continued, she wouldn’t even be able to pay for her basement room or feed herself. In the end, Zhang Xia resorted to the only work she could do that would quickly earn money—she fell into prostitution.

What followed hardly needed elaboration: Zhang Xia worked again and again, sinking lower with each step, until she finally abandoned her dreams altogether.

Then, one day, her employer assigned her an important task: to accompany a distinguished guest, making sure to prepare herself and attend to him with utmost care. This guest was, of course, Fan Jian.

At the time, Zhang Xia had no idea what awaited her. She only remembered that the man she was to accompany was refined, handsome, and seemed not particularly interested in her.

Zhang Xia assumed she was failing to please him, and so redoubled her efforts to win his favor. Fan Jian, for his part, was no saint; his devotion to his wife was all that kept him distant from Zhang Xia. After her persistent attempts, Fan Jian finally dropped his guard.

But neither Zhang Xia nor Fan Jian realized that someone had drugged their drinks. They both soon became confused, and later found themselves in the same room, placed there by others.

Under the influence of the drug, what followed was inevitable. And from that night of confusion, Zhang Xia conceived Fan Jian’s child.

When Zhang Xia finished her tale, Dong Xue nodded. “Very well, I understand. What do you intend to do today?”

“I… I truly do not wish to disrupt your life with your husband. I know my appearance must cause you great distress. But I have no other choice. If I had any path left, I would not have come to you.” Zhang Xia spoke with tears brimming in her eyes. “I have done everything I could to raise my son for five years, but now I simply cannot go on. I no longer have the strength to bring him up.

I don’t want my son to beg on the streets with me in the future, so I beg you, Madam Dong, please have mercy! Take my son in! I do not ask that you acknowledge him as your own, nor that you tell your husband of his true identity. I only hope you can accept him, whether as a servant or as a child laborer, so long as you let him survive and grow.

You needn’t worry he will ever compete with your daughter for inheritance or family property. Rest assured, my son does not know who his father is. As long as neither of us says anything, no one will ever know. The child bears only a slight resemblance to your husband; no one will notice.

After today, I will leave Xindu and return to my hometown. I will never again appear before you or your family, nor will I… ever come back to see my son. From the moment you take him in, he will be an orphan, adopted by you.”

“Madam Dong, I beg you, show great kindness and agree to my request! I can never repay your mercy; if there is a next life, I will serve you faithfully for all my days! Please, let me kneel before you!” As she spoke, Zhang Xia dropped to her knees, her forehead striking the floor with loud, desperate thuds.

Dong Xue remained unmoved by the prostration, her face expressionless as she watched the woman before her. In her heart, she thought, “What a splendid performance! But… it is for her child, after all. Better to keep her where I can see her, rather than let her scheme behind my back…”

Having made up her mind, Dong Xue finally spoke, “Enough, rise now. I will grant your request, but I have another condition…”