Mrs. Qiao scoffed. “The earlier conditions are one thing, but Qiu Dapeng’s business has nothing to do with us. The Master and I only want you two to leave Shanghai as soon as possible — we never instructed Qiu Dapeng to go make trouble for you. We couldn’t care less about that lowlife, let alone vouch for him.”

Wen Tingli studied Mrs. Qiao with half-belief. Mrs. Qiao seemed to recall Wen Tingli’s earlier remark about Qiu Dapeng spreading the Qiao family’s private secrets everywhere, and an unconcealable look of disgust crossed her face.

“Furthermore, you must move out immediately,” Mrs. Qiao continued. “Xingchu has been to your home more than once already. I don’t want him having any further contact with you going forward — you’d best move away from your current place, the farther the better.”

Wen Tingli said coldly, “My father is still in the hospital. I can’t spare the time right now to look for a new place.”

“I can have someone find you a place, and I’ll cover the rent as well. But let me warn you — for the next year and a half, I’ll have someone watching your every move. If you dare contact Xingchu privately, don’t blame me for breaking our agreement!”

“As long as you stop making things difficult for us, I can go my whole life without ever dealing with any of you Qiaos again. But as I said before — the school, the new house, and the medical expenses, Mrs. Qiao must handle all of these as agreed, as soon as possible. I’ll give you one day at most. If I don’t have Wushi’s acceptance letter in hand by tomorrow evening, I can’t guarantee my friend won’t reach out to Bai Liyun.”

Mrs. Qiao picked up her handbag and stood. Before leaving, she forced out through gritted teeth, “Go home and wait for word.”

The moment Mrs. Qiao left, Wen Tingli’s body suddenly went limp. Her back felt cold and clammy — she didn’t even need to check to know she’d broken out in a heavy sweat.

She’d just played an extremely dangerous gamble, and now she was utterly exhausted. She still clutched that invitation card tightly in her hand, her whole body slumping weakly against the table.

Had Mrs. Qiao not come so quickly this afternoon, she wouldn’t have dared feel so certain that this marriage was hanging by such a thin thread. The first branch was already in dire straits, and this marriage alliance was nothing less than a lifeline for them — any news that threatened to derail the wedding would send Mr. and Mrs. Qiao into a panic.

Fortunately, she’d won her gamble.

She happily tucked the invitation back into her schoolbag and hurried back to Cixin Hospital. After checking on her father’s wounds, she took Xiao Taozi to dinner, and later, while a nurse came to change the dressing, quietly slipped out.

She walked through the long, narrow corridor and headed straight upstairs. The fourth floor housed the hospital’s administrative offices, a much quieter environment than downstairs. She walked to the office at the very end of the hall and knocked gently.

A kind female voice sounded from within. “Come in.”

She pushed open the door and saw Dean Deng Yi sitting behind her desk, reviewing documents.

“You’re back.”

Wen Tingli’s eyes reddened slightly. She stepped forward and said, “I came to thank you.”

“Please, sit.” Deng Yi said with a smile. “Now, Miss Wen, can you tell me exactly what happened?”

Wen Tingli then recounted the whole story from beginning to end.

Mrs. Qiao likely never dreamed in her wildest imagination that the “friend” she’d been searching for was Dean Deng herself. Truth be told, Wen Tingli had only met the Dean once — if she hadn’t been pushed to the very edge of desperation, she never would have dared to ask Dean Deng for help. Yet unexpectedly, Dean Deng had agreed to her request without hesitation.

Deng Yi sat with her hands folded quietly on her knees, listening in silence.

Wen Tingli hadn’t been without her anxieties — while Dean Deng could certainly pass the items along to Bai Liyun quietly without revealing her own identity, there was always the risk of being seen. No matter how warm-hearted the old lady was, she might not be willing to risk offending the Qiao family to help an outsider. Yet, to her surprise, once she’d finished recounting the whole story, Dean Deng showed not the slightest sign of regret — instead, her face broke into a full smile. “You clever child, you really are something. I’m just curious how you thought to come to me for help.”

“Because…” Wen Tingli said quickly, “this Cixin Hospital was founded by you, Dean Deng. Nearly everyone in this neighborhood has heard of your many acts of kindness. That night at the Qiao residence, though it was our first meeting, I felt as though I already knew you. Your eyes are clearer than most young people’s — only someone truly upright of heart could have eyes like that.”

It was a rather sappy compliment, but coming from this child’s mouth, it somehow sounded pleasantly sincere. Dean Deng couldn’t help but laugh. “Were you afraid I wouldn’t agree to help?”

Wen Tingli nodded at first, then shook her head. “Things have come to this point, and I’ve already fought as hard as I possibly can within my own power. Worst case, I’ll leave Shanghai and start over. Even if you hadn’t agreed to help, I never would have blamed you for it.”

She rose and bowed slightly to Deng Yi. “You were the first person to extend a helping hand when our family was at its lowest point. Whatever happens to me in the future, I’ll always remember this kindness. Dean Deng — ‘life is but a long journey as a guest, why must we part ways this very morning’ — even if I have no choice but to leave Shanghai, I will find a way to repay you someday.”

Deng Yi was visibly moved. She quickly rose and walked over to support Wen Tingli by the shoulders.

“Silly child, I was only teasing you.” Her gaze was as gentle as winter sunlight. “How could I not help you? This may be a great crisis in your life, but for me it’s nothing more than a small effort — anyone in my position would help. Besides, your father is my patient. Until his condition has stabilized, I won’t allow my patient to be driven out of Shanghai.”

Wen Tingli quietly wiped the corner of her eye. When she sat back down, Deng Yi added, half-joking, “Another reason I helped you — that night, you sang ‘Greensleeves’ beautifully. A girl with so much talent ought to be studying properly at school. I’m the first person who wouldn’t stand for you being expelled without cause.”

Wen Tingli lowered her head and mumbled, “It’s a shame I wasn’t very diligent about my studies while I was at school.”

Deng Yi laughed heartily. “So do you regret it now?”

Wen Tingli nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. Dean Deng’s expression always reminded her of her own mother — her heart ached with each look, but she felt too embarrassed to cry openly in front of the Dean, so she turned her face away instead, covering her eyes with her handkerchief.

Dean Deng was amused by her behavior. “Silly child, cry if you want to. You’ve already been strong enough these past few days.”

Wen Tingli wiped away her tears and said softly, “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you. This morning when I went to pay the hospital fees, the accountant told me the hospital had already waived a large portion, and someone else had already paid the rest. I assumed it was that Qiu man covering it, but the accountant said it was a friend of yours.”

Dean Deng looked startled. “Is that so?”

“You don’t know who it was?”

Dean Deng thought for a moment. “I’ve been at Red Cross meetings these past two days — I really haven’t run into anyone I know at the hospital. Wait a moment… could it be Little Meng—”

Wen Tingli froze. Last night, when her father had been beaten nearly to death by Qiu Dapeng, it was a Mr. Meng’s phone call that had resolved the situation.

“His name is Meng Qiguang,” Dean Deng explained. “You must have met him that night at the Qiao residence — he’s Mrs. Qiao’s cousin. Baoxin and the others call him Uncle Meng.”

So it really was that Mr. Meng from Dachang Industries. Wen Tingli’s feelings grew complicated.

“He did stop by this morning, actually — said he was visiting a friend in the surgical ward. But I had no idea he’d paid for your father’s hospital fees. I suppose he still remembers that night’s events — he probably assumed you were still Qiao Xingchu’s girlfriend, so it’s not so strange he’d want to look out for you a bit.”

Wen Tingli quickly pulled a banknote from her schoolbag. “Would you mind passing this money along to Mr. Meng for me? Once my father’s condition stabilizes, I’ll thank him in person.”

A look of admiration flickered in Deng Yi’s eyes. “Alright.”

She added, “I imagine Thompson’s already told you about your father’s condition.”

Wen Tingli’s expression darkened.

“Your father’s condition is quite serious. We can only do our best to help him hold on a while longer.”

“I… know.”

Deng Yi sighed. Such a young girl, shouldering so much alone — she’d surely grow up fast.

“By the way, has the police still not caught the assailant?”

Wen Tingli quickly recounted what had happened, then added, “Mr. and Mrs. Qiao have promised not to interfere in this matter anymore. As long as the police stop favoring the other side, I believe Qiu Dapeng will be caught soon enough.”

“Good. I’ll have Thompson document your father’s injury report in detail. Whenever the police come, both Thompson and I will personally testify on your father’s behalf.”

Wen Tingli thanked her repeatedly, yet still lingered in the Dean’s office, reluctant to leave. “It’s already so late — are you still going to keep working? Why don’t I go buy you some late-night snacks downstairs? I know a shop nearby that makes excellent chilled water chestnut cake, and it’s so hot out — I’ll get you some plum juice too.”

Deng Yi was about to say it wasn’t necessary, but looking up and meeting Wen Tingli’s earnest gaze, her heart softened. “Well then, I’ll trouble you to make the trip. Tell the shop to go easy on the sugar — I prefer it sour.”

Wen Tingli happily agreed and went downstairs, returning some time later, sweaty and out of breath, with an armful of snacks.

Walking in, she saw the Dean still absorbed in her work. Wen Tingli quietly set the items on the desk and tiptoed back out.

Once the door had closed, Deng Yi finally looked up at the things on her desk. The plum juice and water chestnut cake sat quietly to one side, a thin layer of clear ice crystals still clinging to the bowls. She sighed affectionately, opened the lid, and took a sip — sure enough, it was sourer than ordinary plum juice.

The next morning, before dawn, Wen Tingli went out to buy steaming hot pan-fried buns, delivering them to the Dean’s office door. This time, no one answered from within — the Dean must have already left.

She had no choice but to leave the breakfast at the door. Fortunately, it was still early; once the hospital filled with people during the day, she wouldn’t be able to visit the Dean so openly anymore. If someone with ill intentions happened to see her, the Qiao family might well guess that Dean Deng was secretly helping her.

That afternoon, Wen Tingli sat by her father’s bed with a Chinese literature textbook, absorbed in her studies, when a middle-aged man in a long robe suddenly came looking for her. He didn’t come into the room to visit — he simply said from outside the door, “Miss Wen.”

His manner was quite cold. The moment Wen Tingli came out, he handed her a thick envelope without another word.

Wen Tingli opened it to find a “Notice of Transfer Student Acceptance from Wushi Girls’ Middle School,” along with her academic records attached.

Her heart leapt with joy.

Beneath it was a housing lease agreement. The rent had already been paid in full. The address was in the French Concession, and the lease was written for a year and a half.