Rich people weren’t necessarily all selfish.

But being used to privilege, they tended to react more extremely than ordinary people when their interests were threatened – like Mrs. Wilson now!

Standing up for friendship?

Perhaps.

More likely, Zhang Jiadong and Cui Yiru’s deaths had put the Wilsons in an unfavorable position. With Zhang Jiadong as a “friend,” Harold had to be cautious around his brother and sister-in-law, worried about another hotel shooting incident – now Harold could finally sleep soundly!

Mrs. Wilson in her black attire had spoiled Wu Xiaolan’s mood, and Wu Xiaolan’s words equally angered Mrs. Wilson:

“You’re crude and ill-mannered! Do you think with Harold’s backing, nobody can touch you? This is New York, not China—”

Wu Xiaolan felt impatient:

“Of course, I know this is New York, I’m standing right outside Kennedy Airport – thankfully it’s not called Wilson Airport! If you think I have no right to be in New York, you can complain to Cornell University, cancel my exchange student status, and void my student visa… If Mrs. Wilson doesn’t plan to do that, would you allow me to call a taxi?”

After a long flight, she was truly exhausted.

Wu Xiaolan wanted to know what Mrs. Wilson wanted, unwilling to waste energy on hypocritical pleasantries.

What use were pleasantries?

Before her previous departure from America, she’d already had friction with Mrs. Wilson.

Mrs. Wilson was furious.

She saw Wu Xiaolan as a stupid, arrogant, and crude Chinese person.

“You’ll pay for your arrogance and rudeness, for everything you’ve done!”

Wu Xiaolan didn’t want to go in circles with Mrs. Wilson. She hailed a taxi, put her luggage in with the driver’s help, and disappeared from Mrs. Wilson’s sight.

Leaving Mrs. Wilson standing there, bewildered.

She repeatedly asked herself “How dare she?”

The window of one car’s back seat lowered, showing old Ivan also dressed in black:

“There’s nothing she wouldn’t dare unless you can kill her. I told you before, that she’s not suitable for forceful suppression. Last time you were too hasty, destroying the harmonious relationship built earlier. This time blocking her path with accusations, of course, she’d react this way!”

Mrs. Wilson sat back in the car, sneering:

“You see everything so clearly, why don’t you handle it personally?”

From Mrs. Wilson’s treatment of Ji Ya, it was clear she didn’t have a good temper.

Deep down, Mrs. Wilson not only looked down on Ji Ya, she looked down on all Chinese people.

Whether living in China or immigrating to America, unless they reached Zhang Jiadong and Cui Yiru’s status, all Chinese were inferior in her eyes – inferior to whom? Naturally, even lower than Black people!

Old Ivan shook his head, “Of course, I can’t appear personally. You’ve messed things up, someone needs to fix it. With the congressman couple dead, we must change our original plans… Pity, I warned Zhang not to go to China, but he didn’t listen!”

Zhang Jiadong’s death had disrupted some of old Ivan’s plans.

Mrs. Wilson was also disturbed.

Old Ivan thought for a moment, suddenly speaking softly:

“Though Zhang is gone, his children will inherit his assets. When Tina returns to America, comfort her well. Given your friendship with Cui, Tina will open her heart to you.”

What use was comforting a little girl?

Old Ivan left his words half-finished without a detailed explanation.

Mrs. Wilson was still thinking about Wu Xiaolan’s attitude:

“If we can’t influence Harold through her, then she’s useless to us. I won’t let her stay comfortably in America. She must pay for her arrogance and rudeness.”

Old Ivan remained noncommittal.

Wu Xiaolan was like a cunning fox, young but highly vigilant.

Since they couldn’t win her over, let his wife vent her anger.

Men married for many years understood – if you don’t let your wife vent her anger on others, it would ultimately fall on the husband’s head.

…

Misfortune began upon reaching America.

As Wu Xiaolan’s mental heat slowly subsided, her mind became clearer, though she didn’t regret confronting Mrs. Wilson.

Cui Yiru committed suicide, yet they insisted her rash actions caused the death.

Coming at her with accusations first, using guilt over death to disturb Wu Xiaolan’s judgment, then planning to make difficult demands, thinking Wu Xiaolan would agree out of guilt?

Dream on.

Why should she feel guilty?

She wasn’t the one who had an affair or stole someone’s property and wife.

The wrongdoers were Zhang Jiadong and Cui Yiru. These two had already enjoyed 20 years of luxury – heaven had already been extremely unfair… If anyone should feel guilty, it should be Zhang Jiadong and Cui Yiru, why the hell should Wu Xiaolan feel guilty?

She wasn’t just in her early twenties, to be manipulated by Mrs. Wilson.

Did Mrs. Wilson think she was as gullible as Tina?

No use overthinking the confrontation, whatever the Wilsons planned to do, she was determined to keep her distance.

It was all about money and profit anyway.

Wu Xiaolan didn’t take a taxi directly back to Ithaca but went to her rented apartment in New York where her car was parked. Jim should also be waiting near the apartment.

Before Zhang Jiadong’s death, Jim hadn’t dared to move about.

Sure enough, Wu Xiaolan saw Jim on the first floor of the apartment.

“Hi Jim, has your injury healed?”

Jim adjusted his hat, “I can get out of bed.”

He looked around nervously – being hunted had left some trauma.

“If these can give you energy, I’d feel slightly comforted.”

Wu Xiaolan handed Jim the paper bag. Jim smelled the mixture of maple syrup and chocolate sauce – that deadly temptation was his favorite donuts!

“You’re the most thoughtful employer I’ve ever had. Only you would buy me donuts, others just pay me with cold checks.”

Jim munched on the donuts.

Wu Xiaolan paused, “…I thought you’d be happier receiving checks.”

Jim then noticed the paper bag had two layers, with a check tucked in between. He pulled it out, saw the amount was more than expected, and quickly put it away, mumbling with his mouth full: “This isn’t a cold check, it still has sweet fragrance!”

An employer who brings donuts is thoughtful.

One who writes generous checks is nice.

An employer who does both is perfect.

Before meeting Wu Xiaolan, Jim had planned to keep his distance – her assignment had nearly cost him his life. Now his reason was corrupted by donuts and the check. Ignoring his still-aching chest bones and the fresh pink scar tissue on his abdomen, he eagerly approached Wu Xiaolan:

“Do you need me to look after Baby again?”

“I can handle other assignments too, besides tracking people, I’m good at catching cheaters!”

“…Um, really don’t need any other services?”