Tomorrow as Bright as Day – Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Ming Xi’s few words landed like a bomb—a hand of trump cards thrown down all at once.
The best way to test the water was to take the initiative. If she feared that Ming Decheng might sell her off, then before he had the chance to do so, she might as well “sell” herself first…
Ming Decheng worked fast, so she must be even faster than him!
Because her words were so explosive and sudden, it was impossible to tell whether they were true or false. Ming Decheng and Yang Yumei had a rare moment of silent understanding, both struck speechless.
In the back seat, Ming Xi grew more animated as she spoke. Her cheeks glowed pink, her eyes lowered in feigned shyness; she mimicked the heroine from some TV drama, stammering, embarrassed yet unable to stop herself, “He’s been pursuing me for a while. At first, I thought he was just teasing me, so I ignored him.”
Ming Decheng was an old fox and he must doubt what she said.
Yang Yumei turned around and stared her up and down, a tight smile stretching across her face as she mocked: “Well, aren’t you clever. Having such a fine catch and only telling us now.”
Ming Xi looked back at Yang Yumei, pretending to be very embarrassed and explained timidly, “We haven’t even started dating yet. Just yesterday he said he wanted to be serious, even mentioned marriage—that’s when I realized he meant it.”
“…”
“…”
Ming Decheng and Yang Yumei exchanged glances. Even with all their cunning,
they couldn’t decide whether Ming Xi’s words were true or false. If she was lying, that expensive box of bird’s nest was real enough. If she was telling the truth, then the timing was far too coincidental.
Unable to decide, the two could only speak perfunctorily.
“You might’ve been tricked!” Yang Yumei said with a frown.
Ming Decheng also spoke up: “Yeah, how rich is this guy, huh? Do I know him?
I know most of the big shots in Yicheng. What’s his name?”
Ming Xi simply made up a bigger place: “He’s… from Haigang.”
“How do you know someone from Haigang?”
“Yeah, why would some Haigang’s big boss come to our place?”
Both of them started to question her.
Ming Xi remained calm, her tone a perfect blend of girlish naivety and nervous sincerity—not entirely convincing, but believable enough:
“…I met him when I was out drinking and eating with friends. He drove a Mercedes and wore a coat, looking quite respectable. At first, I didn’t want to bother with him, thinking he’s too slick. But he kept smiling at me, and later he kept asking me out to dinner—
“He’s very affectionate, very forward. I know, a man that attentive must have an agenda, but he’s also willing to spend money on me…”
Lies flowed out one after another like clear spring water, without any impurities. When a girl abandons both modesty and shame—
No matter how smart Ming Decheng was, he began to waver.
A perfect prospect suddenly appeared undoubtedly raised questions, but as long as one condition was added, what Ming Xi said before might be true. This condition was—
“He’s good in every way, except that he’s a little old. I think he’s been married before. Probably wants to trick me into being his mistress.”
Ming Xi said it outright, casting away the last trace of embarrassment.
Tsk! Yang Yumei jerked in her seat, barely able to stay put.
“…How old is he?” Ming Decheng asked cautiously.
“A little older than you two, I guess.” Ming Xi raised her eyebrows slightly.
“…” Ming Decheng’s expression was complicated, and he couldn’t digest his daughter’s words for a while.
After all, plenty of businessmen did such filthy things—sweet-talking young girls just to keep them locally as mistresses for a couple years for their amusement.
Ming Decheng himself had done this before.
With that turn of words, Ming Xi had hit a nerve. Yang Yumei’s face soured from the passenger seat. Ming Decheng rubbed his nose, coughed twice, and asked, “Then… how much money would that big boss give you?”
No one in this world dislikes money, but few talk about it so openly.
Ming Decheng was one of those few.
Yang Yumei was another.
“Money, money, money, all you care about is money… I’m not with him for money!” Ming Xi suddenly flared up. The only way to beat people without morals
was to be even more shameless yourself.
“……!” Ming Decheng snorted and almost cursed.
Yang Yumei was even more sarcastic and directly scolded, “Not for money? Then for love? Are you brain-dead? Some old man whispers sweet nothings, and you believe him? You’re young and pretty now, so of course he’s willing to put in the effort. But once he’s had his way, just wait and see his true colors.”
Yang Yumei became more and more angry as she spoke, and her eyes were almost rolling to the sky.
Ming Xi pursed her lips, her purpose achieved, and she didn’t say a word in reply.
“I understand,” she murmured meekly, once again the picture of obedience.
But Yang Yumei wasn’t done, and continued to jab: “You know nothing! Don’t come crying when he tricks you into bed and dumps you afterward.”
“…Oh.” Ming Xi’s lips quirked upward; she almost laughed, but quickly lowered her head, covering her face like a guilty little girl.
If she could help it, she hoped what she suspected about Aunt Qin wasn’t actually true…
…
Ming Yue would be back in two days.
This was something Yang Yumei and Ming Decheng casually said during dinner.
Compared to before—when Yang Yumei had worried that Ming Yue might have trouble adjusting—now she seemed entirely calm about her daughter’s return. She even looked a little happy.
Two days later would also be the day of Ming Xi’s graduation exam.
“Is Ming Yue coming back Monday? Which flight? Where’s she landing?” Ming Xi set down her chopsticks, asking question after question.
Yang Yumei shot her a glare. “Mind your own business.”
Ming Decheng also said sarcastically: “I can’t count on you anymore. I’ll just have to rely on Ming Yue instead!”
Ming Xi shut her mouth. Sometimes, even eating a meal in this house was a challenge.
Ming Yue would return Monday; Ming Xi would sit for her exams that same day. Over the weekend, the usually tense household was unexpectedly peaceful.
Ming Decheng was usually out looking for new business locations, while Yang Yumei stayed home the entire time. Perhaps because her precious daughter was about to return, she was in a good mood and tidied the house every day.
Whenever Ming Xi was home, she wore her headphones and practiced listening to English conversations, repeating them aloud from time to time.
Yang Yumei laughed at her poor English, saying it sounded like a duck quacking. Ming Xi didn’t take offense; instead, she exaggerated her pronunciation on purpose. Yang Yumei bent down to mop the floor and told her to lift her feet.
For a moment, Ming Xi felt a strange sense of déjà vu—this scene reminded her of Cai Ni and her mother together.
She looked at Yang Yumei, wanting to say something but holding back
Yang Yumei felt her stare and frowned, uneasy. “Why are you looking at me for? Don’t waste your tuition by failing the exam!”
“… Oh.”
Yang Yumei pursed her lips, then asked over her shoulder, “Your dad’s not home tonight, so why don’t we just keep it simple and make some fried rice?”
Ming Xi gave her an OK sign without taking off her headphones.
Yang Yumei grumbled softly but went to the kitchen to cook.
Ming Xi finally took off her headphones. Perhaps she had been reading for too long, but her eyes felt a little sore. She rubbed her eyes and turned her head to look at the sun outside the window.
Most things in this world are unfair—just like sunlight: where there’s brightness, there’s shadow. Ever since she’d come to this house, she’d never envied how differently Yang Yumei treated her and Ming Yue.
Yang Yumei’s kindness to Ming Yue was instinctive—the way Cai Ni’s mother was with her own daughter. Toward her, Yang Yumei had neither instinct nor duty. She wasn’t a good person, but she wasn’t truly wicked either.
The truly wicked one was Ming Decheng—a liar of money, of women, of trust.
Ming Xi’s thoughts tangled. Part of her feared she was judging them too harshly; part of her still worried that they’d already sold her out and were counting the money behind her back.
The ancients said that good and evil are often just a thought away, which makes a lot of sense.
Before going to bed that night, Ming Xi picked up the thermos and hot water bottle and went outside to fill it. Her hands were steady, holding the kettle in one hand and the hot water bottle in the other, like the old oil seller in the story, not a drop of boiling water spilled.
After she was done, she knocked on Yang Yumei’s bedroom door.
Ming Decheng hadn’t returned yet. Yang Yumei was curled under the blanket, holding her cell phone; when she saw Ming Xi, she quickly shoved it beneath the covers.
“Mom……”
“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” Yang Yumei snapped, startled and irritable.
“…I brought you hot water bottle.” Ming Xi was silent for a second, then held the hot water bottle high in her hand and gave Yang Yumei a flattering smile.
The embarrassment on Yang Yumei’s face disappeared, and turned into flustered unease.
Ming Xi pretended not to notice. She walked naturally to the foot of the bed, lifted the blanket, and tucked the hot water bottle against Yang Yumei’s feet.
“Is it warm?” Ming Xi raised her face and grinned at Yang Yumei.
“…”
Yang Yumei lay stiffly in bed, a hot water bottle pressed against her cold feet, quickly warming them. Her feet relaxed beneath the covers, but her face became even more strained, as if every features were reacting independently.
Ming Xi said nothing more. She bent down and, before leaving, carefully tucked the blanket around her—smoothing out the corners so no draft could slip in.
Yang Yumei remained motionless throughout the entire process. After a while, she said with a pursed mouth, “Alright, alright…you can get out now.”
Ming Xi straightened up and turned to leave.
“Hey—” Yang Yumei suddenly called her.
Ming Xi turned, her eyes shining brightly.
Yang Yumei coughed and said awkwardly, “There’s a winter quilt on top of the closet in your room. Put it on if you feel cold.”
Ming Xi shook her head: “No, that’s a new quilt, for Ming Yue to use when she comes back.”
Yang Yumei: “…”
Ming Xi: “Good night, Mom.”
Yang Yumei: “…”
“Bang!” Ming Xi closed the door, and Yang Yumei suddenly slapped herself hard in the face. The ruthless slap was so painful that she couldn’t recover for a long time.
…
On Sunday night, Ming Xi followed Yang Yumei and Ming Decheng to eat at a noodle shop. Next to the restaurant was a newly opened photo studio.
Ming Xi suggested, “When Ming Yue comes back tomorrow, let’s take a family photo together.”
Yang Yumei didn’t respond.
Ming Decheng muttered a vague “Mm,” not really answering. The only sound left in the awkward atmosphere was the man slurping noodles.
There was a bottle of on the table, and Ming Decheng had already drunk half of it.
Ming Xi looked at the two of them, feeling somewhat emotional: how arrogant they once were. But once a person lost their spirit, even if their appearance remained unchanged, they would no longer look good.
After a moment’s thought, Ming Xi offered a few encouraging words: “China’s market economy will definitely get better and better. I believe that as long as you work hard on your business, our family won’t just get through this—we’ll live even better than before.”
Yang Yumei replied in her habitual, mocking tone: “You…are quite confident.”
“Of course!” Ming Xi nodded firmly. She smiled at Yang Yumei, then at Ming Decheng, and gave encouragement directly at him, “The main thing is that our Boss Ming must have confidence, right!”
What the hell…
Ming Decheng felt a little itchy around his eyes and reached out to rub them.
Ming Xi tore off a tissue and handed it to him.
Ming Decheng took it and wiped his nose with it. Then he slowly took out a cigarette box from his pocket, knocked out a cigarette, lit it, took a few puffs, and finally spoke.
For the first time, Ming Decheng spoke like a father.
And for the first time Ming Xi waited patiently and expectantly for Ming Decheng to speak.
Ming Decheng said:
“Ming Xi, your dad’s a muddle-headed man, and I’ve got nothing good to teach you about doing things. But when it comes to men and women, I know what I’m talking about—so let me teach you that.”
What the hell…
Ming Xi wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. Her mouth twitched dryly.
Ming Decheng continued, “You’re grown up now, and there will definitely be men who will pester you in the future. Let me tell you—no matter how sweet his words sound, don’t believe them.
“No matter how nice a man’s words are, they’re not as reliable as cash. Remember—where a man’s money is, his heart is.
“And don’t think marriage can tie a man down. Useless! Marriage only ties you women down. Men marry just to keep a woman at home, not to bind themselves.
“Most importantly! You can play around with men, switch them around if you like, it’s no big deal. But never, ever—have a man’s child lightly.
“Don’t be like your birth mother.”
Ming Xi: “…”
The noodle shop was quiet. Ming Decheng kept talking nonsense, knocking on the table with his chopsticks again and again. His dark eyes were sometimes dull, sometimes bright.
This man had never been a good husband or a good father. He was selfish, a bastard—but he had his own shameless way of living.
In the past, whenever Ming Decheng said these pretentious, self-righteous things, Ming Xi only thought: . Yet tonight, even his crass words sounded a little… human.
For a fleeting moment, Ming Xi felt her hardened heart waver—almost soften.
But—
If…
If she hadn’t seen a certain familiar figure at the Bomei Hotel yesterday, she might have believed him.
Believed that they really wanted to start over. Believed that Ming Yue’s return was to help them rebuild.
That even if this family was a mess, it wouldn’t fall apart.
But yesterday—
Yesterday, the Bomei Hotel had hosted Yicheng’s first Textile & Fabric Conference. She printed out a few resumes and went there to look for job opportunities. Without an invitation, she couldn’t enter the main conference hall and had to wait in the lobby. Whenever she saw someone who looked like a big boss sitting in the lounge, she would strike up a conversation and hand in her resume…
During this process, she met two acquaintances: one was Henry, whom she met at Yicheng Market, and the other was Ming Yue.
Daughters often take after their fathers.
Compared to her, Ming Yue resembled Ming Decheng in both figure and features, even her gait was somewhat similar. Ming Xi had recognized her at a glance. And besides, hadn’t they said Ming Yue hadn’t returned to the country yet? So why was she already appearing at a hotel in Yicheng?
She saw Ming Yue coming out of the elevator, walking quickly toward the exit.
Ming Xi stood up, followed her out, and then saw Ming Yue get into a Santana with her own eyes.
The very same car that Ming Decheng drove.
…
It turned out that Ming Yue had returned and was staying in the most upscale hotel in Yicheng.
Ming Decheng and Yang Yumei must have known about this, otherwise Ming Decheng wouldn’t have driven to pick her up. But they deliberately lied to her, emphasizing that Ming Yue wouldn’t be back until Monday.
All of these, whether what she saw with her own eyes or what she felt and speculated, confirmed a suspicion in her heart—
They were most likely trying to scam the money and run away.
They wanted to take Ming Yue with them, but they didn’t plan to take her with them.
…
Yicheng did hold its first textile expo yesterday, and the venue was the Bomei Hotel in the city center.
In order to boost the local economy, the Yicheng government had been stepping up efforts to attract investment. Over the weekend, the Bomei Hotel was packed with guests—mostly businesspeople from the mainland and Hong Kong or Taiwan—some portly, some impeccably dressed.
Someone like Henry, who had flown in from the United States, was a rarer sight. If not for Liang Jiancheng’s invitation, he wouldn’t have come at all.
His family was in the business of managing fast-fashion brands in the U.S. Liang Jiancheng was his friend, his partner, and also his intermediary in China.
A few days ago, Liang Jiancheng took him to visit the Yicheng Market. In addition to watching the excitement, he also wanted to let him feel the growing boiling economic energy of China.
“Only Chinese factories can meet your needs, and only Chinese production capacity can help you open up the market,” Liang Jiancheng said confidently, even though Chinese factories were still in the initial stage of development and standardization.
Business trips were never purely social, and neither man came for free. Before leaving, Henry signed a large order with Liang Jiancheng.
After landing such a deal, Liang Jiancheng’s hospitality naturally leveled up—he even went to the counter himself to order two coffees. When he returned, Henry was looking toward the hotel’s revolving door, where a solitary figure was hurrying out.
Following Henry’s gaze, Liang Jiancheng looked as well—but the person had already disappeared through the door.
“What a pity. You just miss her.” Henry joked again.
Liang could tell Henry had genuinely misunderstood his relationship with Ming Xi. Given his current position, it wasn’t a topic he wanted joked about, so he simply shared a bit of personal news: ” If all goes well, I’ll be getting engaged next year.”
Henry was shocked: “My God, that’s sudden.”
Liang Jiancheng: “Yeah, I think it’s very sudden too.”
Henry asked, “Is she someone you know?”
Liang Jiancheng simply explained, “Someone my mother introduced. We’ve met a few times. She seems like a good person.”
“Pretty?”
“Didn’t look closely—probably.”
Henry shook his head and quipped, “You lucky guy.”
Liang Jiancheng smiled: “Let’s hope so.”