In the dream was the seventeen-year-old Shen Jianian and the eighteen-year-old Shen Jianian.
Pei Che has been in New York for four years.
They hadn't seen each other for over a year.
The last time Pei Che returned to the country, it coincided with her father's heart attack, and they hurriedly met at the hospital without any time for a proper conversation.
If it weren't for her father's illness, she should have gone abroad with Pei Che three years ago, becoming a golden couple envied by everyone, only waiting to walk hand in hand into the hall of marriage once they reached the legal marriage age.
However, the world is unpredictable...
Shen Jianian couldn't help but imagine what it would be like when they met again. Separated by unresolved hatred, there would only be mutual torment, never returning to the past.
She didn't want to hate Pei Che, but reality left her with no choice.
A tear silently slid down her cheek, Shen Jianian raised her hand to wipe it away, pretending nothing happened, moving her body that was stiff from deep sleep, turning to look out the car window, her eyes full of tearful mist painfully sour.
At some point, a light rain began to fall outside, covering the clean window glass with delicate raindrops, forming a hazy mist. The neon lights along the street reflected on it, resembling an illusory and ethereal dream.
She wished she could still be in a dream, never waking up.
If so, she would still be Little Nian who knew nothing of sorrow, the treasured child of her parents, the darling in Pei Che's palm.
"Stop being in a daze, wake up, if we mess up tonight, nobody will be spared," Yin Shuyao raised her voice, each word piercing through the eardrums, interrupting Shen Jianian's fantasy.
The autumn in Yicheng is much warmer than in Beicheng, yet it couldn't warm Shen Jianian's heart.
She hugged her bare arms, ignoring Yin Shuyao's words.
Being repeatedly ignored, Yin Shuyao became angrier, her words more unkind as she mocked her: "Cousin, let me remind you, you're no longer the high and mighty lady, I advise you not to show the airs of a lady, only by lowering your stance can you win President Qin's favor. Someone like President Qin, a noble business magnate, with a wave of his hand, who knows how many benefits he can bring, even taking back Ling Yue Group from the Pei Family is not impossible. Did you hear me?"
Lingyue Group is Shen Family's enterprise.
"I heard." Shen Jianian didn't want to engage in unnecessary disputes, responding blandly.
Her attitude was as calmly indifferent as still water, not as disappointed as Yin Shuyao expected, naturally dissatisfied, she snorted coldly, mocking: "Your parents are both dead, and you're penniless, I really don't know where your sense of superiority comes from, if it weren't for my father's kindness in taking you in, you'd be begging on the streets by now! Don't forget, the gown on you is a kind gesture from me."
Previously, Shen Jianian always overshadowed her in every aspect - beauty, figure, family background, even men who liked Shen Jianian, she couldn't compete. Now that the Shen Family has fallen, with no one to support Shen Jianian, she can finally hold her head high, venting her long-suppressed anger.
Shen Jianian, living under others' roof, could only endure it, not daring to retort a single word.
Fortunately, the car stopped under Yunshui Hotel's corridor, no longer needing to hear Yin Shuyao's relentless sarcasm, Shen Jianian lowered her eyes, silently letting out a breath.
A doorman in a black suit approached, opening the rear car door with his gloved hand, using the other hand to shield the car top to prevent the VIP from hitting their head.
Yin Shuyao, still indignant, rolled her eyes at the person beside her, lifting her dress hem and stepping out of the car.
As she stepped onto the soft red carpet, she didn't wait for Shen Jianian in the car, instead, swaggering into the hotel lobby.
Without troubling the doorman, Shen Jianian opened the other car door herself, carefully stepping out, her toes touching the ground, lifting her dress hem adorned with shimmering starlight.
The gown was ill-fitting, and she had to be cautious, lest she damage it and provide Yin Shuyao an opportunity to lash out.
Their current statuses were worlds apart, and Yin Shuyao took every chance to oppress her for amusement.
At present, she could indeed not afford such a gown.
Shen Jianian had no other accessories on her, her jet-black smooth hair was loosely pinned into a bun with a simple black hairpin, the remaining strands falling over her back.
An autumn breeze blew, lifting her hair, her side profile calm and indifferent.
In such a chilly night, there was a unique, pitiable allure.
Shen Jianian retrieved a cello from the trunk, slinging it over her back, and slowly entered the hotel, heading towards the elevator on the right.
Perhaps it was because there were many guests attending Old Mrs. Qin's birthday banquet tonight, Yin Shuyao, who had entered before her, was still waiting impatiently in front of the elevator.