It would take her about an hour to get to the hotel where she worked, requiring three bus transfers along the way.
After her first bus transfer, she got off; it was already dark, and she waited anxiously at the bus stop.
It wasn’t until after seven o’clock that she confirmed she had missed the last bus. A taxi from there would cost at least twenty yuan, money she couldn’t bear to spend. If she walked, it would take her two hours to get there.
The night air was a bit chilly. She pulled her clothes tighter around herself and walked alone under the streetlights.
Colorful neon lights lit up, twinkling like little stars in the sky.
Chen Jinfeng’s slightly aged eyes were filled with longing, but the city lights had never belonged to her.
Just then, a motorcycle zoomed past, and a hand swiftly snatched the bag from her shoulder. The rider even had the audacity to whistle arrogantly.
The bag was pulled from Chen Jinfeng’s grasp, and she immediately screamed, "Thief! Someone’s robbing me! Thief!"
That bag contained her entire month’s wages—three thousand yuan!
But no one paid her any attention; pedestrians looked at her as if she were a madwoman.
No one paid much mind to a plain, rustic-looking woman like her.
Chen Jinfeng chased frantically for some distance but couldn’t catch the thief.
Thinking about the three thousand yuan—earned from a whole month of washing dishes and picking vegetables—she sat by the roadside and burst into tears.
She didn’t dare call Wanqing. That girl would surely think she was stupid, and she didn’t even have anyone to talk to.
Gu Anxi, her schoolbag on her back, stood about two meters away, watching the crying woman.
It was Shen Wanqing’s mother. She used to work in the Gu family’s kitchen and would make rice cakes for her and Shen Wanqing.
Gu Anxi wasn’t close to Wang Keru, who hardly paid her any mind. So, when she saw Chen Jinfeng doting on Wanqing, she felt a little envious.
She spoke up, "What happened, Auntie Chen?"
Tears streamed down Chen Jinfeng’s face, which was flushed and blotchy; she looked utterly wretched.
She stared at Gu Anxi for a long moment before recognizing her. "Miss Anxi? My money was stolen... three thousand yuan, my whole month’s salary."
As she spoke, another wave of dazed sorrow washed over her. "I was saving that for Wanqing’s dowry. She can’t marry into the Qin family without any dowry at all; they’ll look down on her."
Saying this, she wiped her face with her hand again.
Gu Anxi saw that her hands were rough and chapped, with several small, bleeding cuts.
Gu Anxi’s heart felt as if something had pierced it.
Chen Jinfeng looked a bit embarrassed. "Why am I telling you all this? It’s all my own carelessness."
Gu Anxi took a few steps forward, silently took Chen Jinfeng’s hand, and asked, "Does it hurt?"
Chen Jinfeng’s hand flinched.
Wounds like these, constantly soaking in water from washing dishes and picking vegetables, exposed to pesticides too—of course, they’d hurt. When it was really bad, they’d even fester.
But no matter how painful it was, for her child to have a good future and hold her head high, she gritted her teeth and endured.
Gu Anxi knew very well that three thousand yuan was no longer important to Shen Wanqing.
But for the woman before her, it was everything.
Sometimes, pain required faith to endure.
And Shen Wanqing was Chen Jinfeng’s faith.
Gu Anxi gently let go of her hand and took a small bottle from her bag.
It was a brilliant, emerald green.
Bo Xichen had given it to her.
She pressed it into Chen Jinfeng’s hand. "Apply this to your wounds. It should help."
Chen Jinfeng hesitated to accept it; the small bottle looked incredibly valuable.
Nevertheless, Gu Anxi insisted, pressing it into her hand. She then took Chen Jinfeng to an ATM and withdrew three thousand yuan for her. "Here, take this," Gu Anxi said. "And be careful not to lose it again."