Chapter 43: The Ice Queen’s Fierce Love (End)
Tao Yan’s attitude was ambiguous. The three of them squeezed into the back seat of the car, Tao Yan’s demeanor as warm and affectionate as ever, as if she had forgotten Tao Ning’s earlier announcement.
After dinner, the housekeeper informed them that their rooms were ready.
Tao Yan, still showing no reaction, simply told them to rest well and went upstairs.
It was impossible, however, for anyone to be truly unfazed by Tao Yan’s presence.
Tao Yan was the head of the Tao Corporation, a powerful figure whose words commanded respect, even fear.
Even Guan Qiuyi, the revered CEO, was just a child in Tao Yan’s presence, a mixture of admiration and apprehension coloring her interactions.
Guan Qiuyi, sensing Tao Yan’s unspoken disapproval, was hesitant, avoiding Tao Ning’s room, not allowing Tao Ning into hers, opting for solitude.
Tao Ning, clutching her pillow, rejected by her girlfriend, looked forlorn, returning to her own room, her dejected demeanor evoking both guilt and a touch of fear in Guan Qiuyi, who promised to wear whatever Tao Ning wanted in the future.
Tao Ning, who had been lying on the bed, scrolling through her phone, sat up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You said it. I recorded it. No take-backs.”
Guan Qiuyi: “…”
Her response was a darkened screen, the abrupt disconnection a clear sign of her flustered state.
Tao Ning hadn’t actually recorded anything, but she was amused by Guan Qiuyi’s reaction.
The next morning, Tao Ning woke up early, and, pulling open the curtains, saw Tao Yan in the garden. She quickly dressed and went downstairs.
Tao Yan, enjoying the morning sun, her inherent optimism unwavering, her worries easily dispelled by a good night’s sleep, was now relaxing in a lounge chair.
Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Tao Ning approaching. “Alone?” she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Tao Ning, about to sit down, paused. “Do I look… incomplete?”
Tao Yan, removing her sunglasses, her gaze sharp and perceptive despite the faint traces of makeup, said, “Don’t play games with me. Is Qiuyi still asleep?”
Interesting, Tao Ning thought.
She let out a dramatic sigh, carefully avoiding any hint of vulnerability. “I think so. She’s been busy lately.”
Tao Yan, her tone casual, asked, “Separate rooms? Afraid of me?”
Tao Ning, neither confirming nor denying, simply said, “You’re my mother, and Qiuyi’s godmother. I wouldn’t want you to be upset.”
Tao Yan hummed noncommittally, her expression unreadable.
Despite her outward calm, Tao Ning’s heart skipped a beat at that sound.
She decided on honesty. “Qiuyi is… wonderful. I love her. I want to marry her. And… take care of you when you’re older.”
Tao Yan sighed, her gaze sweeping over the sunlit garden, as if lost in memories.
“I know what kind of person she is,” she said, her voice soft, almost wistful. “I’ve known her for years. I was so busy with work when you were little, neglecting you. It was your grandfather who discovered… how that nanny was treating you. And you grew up to be such a kind and caring person. I’m proud of you. I just want you to be happy. That’s all that matters.”
Tao Ning, her eyes filled with hope, looked at her expectantly. Tao Yan, however, after a moment of silence, changed the subject. “Don’t think I’m… all-knowing, all-powerful. I’m over fifty, you know.”
“But you are all-powerful,” Tao Ning insisted.
Tao Yan, in response, delivered a swift, motherly slap to her shoulder. “Don’t try to manipulate me. And what are you looking at? Go show Qiuyi your… injury. Tell her I hit you. That’s the only way I’ll agree to this.”
Tao Ning, her plan exposed: “…”
Tao Yan, poking her finger at Tao Ning’s chest, said, “I know you too well. I can read your mind.”
Tao Ning: …True, but that was a bit harsh.
After a few autumn rains, the weather in Tong City cooled down, and the Tao Corporation hosted a welcome-back banquet for Tao Ning.
It wasn’t for Tao Yan, who was constantly traveling, but for Tao Ning, the sole heir, her first official appearance since taking on a more prominent role within the company. The guest list was extensive.
It was supposed to be a simple welcome-back event, marking Tao Ning’s official entry into the family business, but a more explosive announcement followed.
After confirming Tao Ning’s new role within the company, Tao Yan said, “And I have another announcement. Ningning and Qiuyi’s engagement party will be held this November. You’re all invited.”
The guests, many of whom had been preparing to introduce their own eligible offspring to the heiress, were stunned.
Who? Who beat us to it?
They exchanged bewildered glances, some discreetly checking their ears, convinced they had misheard.
The Tao heiress’s fiancée? Guan Qiuyi?
“Guan Qiuyi? As in… Guan Capital?”
“Is there another Guan Qiuyi we should know about?”
A valid question. There wasn’t.
Then someone said, “Guan Capital… Isn’t she… a woman?”
“Times are changing. What’s wrong with that?”
“But… same-sex marriage isn’t legal here.”
“They can get married abroad. It’s not that expensive. And how many legally married couples are actually happy?”
The guests, their wine glasses clutched in their hands, felt like they were dreaming, their minds still reeling as they offered their congratulations.
Whether they approved or not, the atmosphere was undeniably celebratory.
Many, however, dismissed it as a prank, a publicity stunt.
Then the invitations arrived, confirming the news. The engagement party, held at Rose Manor, was a lavish affair, befitting the Tao family’s wealth and status, the sheer extravagance prompting speculation about the actual wedding.
“Not bad,” Lü Xinxi said, holding up a newspaper, reading the headline aloud, her voice dramatic. “‘Tao Heiress and Guan Capital CEO Announce Engagement! A Power Couple is Born!’”
Lowering the newspaper, she turned to Tao Ning. “Your thoughts?”
Tao Ning, grabbing the newspaper, her demeanor radiating newlywed bliss, glanced at the article. “No comment on the writing. But the photos are unflattering.”
Lü Xinxi rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to fish for compliments. It won’t work.”
Tao Ning, pointing at a photo, said, “Look, they made you look chubby. You’re so much prettier in person.”
“What?!” Lü Xinxi leaned in, her eyes narrowing. “They did! I look like I gained ten pounds! I’m a renowned producer! I have fans who follow me for my looks!”
Tao Ning, putting on her sunglasses, settled back into her lounge chair, enjoying the sun.
Guan Qiuyi, carrying a coconut, walked over and sat down, handing it to Tao Ning. “Try this. It’s good.”
Tao Ning took a sip through the straw. Lü Xinxi, making a face, clutching the newspaper, muttering about “PDA,” turned to Jin Yue for validation. “Do I really look… fat?”
Jin Yue, overseeing their barbecue like a mother hen, glanced at the photo. “Yes,” she said, after a moment of thought.
Lü Xinxi, initially furious, was now satisfied.
Jin Yue added, “You’d look beautiful in a wedding dress.”
Lü Xinxi, taking photos of the newspaper, preparing to share them with her friends and complain about the photographer’s incompetence, shook her head. “I’m not getting married. No wedding dress for me. But you… with your family constantly pressuring you… I’ll be a bridesmaid soon, I guess.”
Jin Yue, flipping a chicken wing on the grill, chuckled. “Not likely.”
What does that mean? Lü Xinxi thought, stopping mid-text, her face contorting in mock anger. “What do you mean? You’re getting married without me as a bridesmaid?”
Jin Yue, ignoring her, continued grilling, a serene smile on her face, even as Lü Xinxi grabbed her shoulders, shaking her playfully.
Under the bright sun, the pool shimmered, the air filled with the scent of sunscreen and grilling meat, the clinking of ice in glasses, a scene of leisure and contentment, each person lost in their own world.
The public’s perception of Tao Ning, the Tao heiress, was complex.
Some dismissed her as incompetent, a spoiled rich girl. Others saw a hidden strength, a shrewdness beneath the carefree facade. She was an enigma.
Arriving late and leaving early were common occurrences, yet any project assigned to her was completed flawlessly, her subordinates fiercely loyal, their admiration evident.
Then, they would see Tao Yan, her mother, still actively involved in the business, a tireless CEO, and they would think, Perhaps it’s all thanks to her mother. Tao Ning’s contributions are negligible.
Some, underestimating her youth and inexperience, had attempted to test her, to teach her a lesson, only to find their plans thwarted before the Tao Corporation even needed to intervene.
Appealing to Tao Yan was, of course, futile. She was notoriously protective of her daughter.
A few, perhaps blinded by desperation, had even approached Guan Qiuyi, assuming she could be swayed by incentives.
During a banquet, Guan Qiuyi, meeting with one such individual, had simply said, “Remember the Nangong family?”
“Yes… what does that have to do with this?”
Guan Qiuyi, a cold smile playing on her lips, had shaken her head. “Nothing. Just a reminder that some things are non-negotiable.”
It was then that they realized Tao Ning wasn’t incompetent. She was simply discreet, her true abilities hidden beneath a playful exterior.
Just when they thought Tao Ning was finally ready to step up, to take the reins of the Tao Corporation, she had, once again, retreated, embracing a life of leisure.
And so, Tao Ning, dragging a vacationing Guan Qiuyi along, had disappeared, declaring their intention to “enjoy life,” all distractions to be ignored.
Months later, they returned, their skin tanned, a small child in tow.
Just as everyone assumed the child was their secret love child, a product of their months of seclusion, Tao Ning announced that they had been volunteering in a rural community, and, finding the child’s circumstances unfortunate, had decided to adopt her.
The child’s appearance, bearing no resemblance to either of them, her features lacking the refinement of a city child, seemed to confirm her story.
They named the little girl Guan Xingzhu.
To everyone’s surprise, however, the child, as she grew older, blossomed, her demeanor as calm and composed as Guan Qiuyi’s, her intelligence a reflection of Tao Ning’s.
Lü Xinxi, observing her, had commented, “That child… she’s like a… wolf in sheep’s clothing. A true prodigy.”
Indeed, deception was most effective when delivered with an innocent face, a disarming sincerity that made even the most skeptical question their own judgment.
Guan Xingzhu, at such moments, would simply look at them with wide, innocent eyes, her silence more effective than any words.
Tao Ning hadn’t hidden the adoption, and Xingzhu, inevitably, faced questions, even accusations.
She would simply puff out her chest, her small face a mask of indignation. “My mothers chose me. They love me. Your mom probably hits you. Mine don’t.”
Her accusers, their attempts at provocation failing, would usually retreat in tears, unable to repeat such accusations to their parents.
And even if they did…
Who would dare confront Tao Ning and Guan Qiuyi? Even the most reckless wouldn’t risk such a confrontation.
Sometimes, Xingzhu, as an only child, expressed a desire for a sibling, a playmate.
Tao Ning, lounging in a chair, would stroke her head, her voice gentle. “I can’t have children. It’s… complicated.”
Xingzhu, ignoring the part she didn’t understand, suggested, “I wouldn’t mind a sister with my last name.”
Tao Ning, sitting up, her expression serious, said, “I would. When we first brought you home, you insisted on sleeping between us. Not beside us, but between us. If we had another child, there would be two people between me and your other mother.”
Guan Xingzhu: “…”
Tao Ning asked, “Could you… resist the urge to sleep between us if you had a younger sister?”
Xingzhu, without hesitation, replied, “No.”
“Case closed,” Tao Ning said, patting her shoulder, her voice filled with mock seriousness. “I’m glad you understand, Comrade Guan. You’ll remain an only child. Now, go play.”
Xingzhu, confused by Tao Ning’s logic, wandered off.
Then, a moment later, she ran back, her eyes wide. “Mama, I can share a bed with my sister! We won’t disturb you!”
The door, however, was closed, and Xingzhu, knocking, called out, “Mama? Why is the door locked?”
Inside, the curtains drawn, the room dimly lit, a scene of domestic bliss unfolded.
Guan Qiuyi, her dress bunched around her thighs, her head tilted back, her brow furrowed, the object of her affection whispering in her ear, “Why is the door locked?”
“Who locked it? Was it you?”
A soft moan, a hand reaching out to still the wandering hand, a kiss silencing the whispered question, a playful nip eliciting a shiver.
They didn’t even hear Xingzhu leave. Later, Guan Qiuyi, her body pliant, her eyes still slightly unfocused, was carried back to the bed.
As she regained her senses, she reached out, pulling at Tao Ning’s robe, which she had just tied, undoing it again.
After a moment of quiet contemplation, she said, her voice husky, “I never realized how… wicked you are.”
Tao Ning, leaning down to kiss her, murmured against her lips, “Only with you.”
Guan Qiuyi’s arms wrapped around her, their bodies intertwined, their faces close. “Will you still be like this… when we’re old?” she asked softly.
Tao Ning’s hair spread across the pillow, her eyes filled with Guan Qiuyi’s image. “Of course,” she replied, her voice firm. “Always.”
Guan Qiuyi smiled, her fingers toying with Tao Ning’s hair.
Her touch lingered, her once smooth, unblemished hands now wrinkled and spotted, the dark hair turning gray, then white.
Time passed, years blurring into decades, their youthful vibrancy replaced by the quiet grace of age.
“You said you never lie. I believe you,” Guan Qiuyi said, her voice frail.
Tao Ning, sitting beside the hospital bed, looking at the elderly woman, her face softened by age, smiled. “Why are you saying this now?”
Guan Qiuyi released Tao Ning’s hair, her hand, now held by Tao Ning’s, placed gently back under the covers. “Because I’m… tired. And I wanted to… tell you… before I…”
Tao Ning’s carefully constructed composure crumbled, and she reached for the call button, about to summon the doctor.
Guan Qiuyi, however, her grip surprisingly strong, tugged on her sleeve, stopping her. “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice weak. “I’m… falling asleep. I have… one more question.”
“Ask me. Anything,” Tao Ning said, forcing herself to calm down, a veteran agent, yet feeling utterly helpless.
Guan Qiuyi asked softly, “How long… will you remember me?”
It was the unspoken question between them, a secret they had both carefully guarded. She was dying; she deserved an answer.
Tao Ning, fighting back tears, her hand holding Guan Qiuyi’s, her voice thick with emotion, said, “Forever.”
“That’s not fair…” Guan Qiuyi whispered, her eyes, however, smiling, her heart filled with a quiet joy. “I don’t have… forever. Just… a little longer… than me… That’s all I ask.”
Tao Ning tried to hold onto the warmth of her hand, but it was fading, Guan Qiuyi’s life force ebbing away.
Seventy years together, and despite knowing it was inevitable, the finality of it, the approaching separation, filled her with a sense of resistance.
Tao Ning said, her voice thick with emotion, “I… lost my memories once. Forgot… everything. I came into this world… a blank slate. But you… I’ll never forget you.”
“You were my first love. I’ll keep our memories… safe.”
Guan Qiuyi whispered, “That’s… good.”
Tao Ning leaned closer, her lips brushing against Guan Qiuyi’s ear, the system’s warning alarms blaring, and said, “My name… is Tao Fuan.”
520’s panicked voice, its core resonating with the system’s urgent warnings, echoed in her mind. [What have you done?!]
Tao Ning didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the elderly woman in the bed.
No one knew her real name. Tao Ning had been her name, but today, she wanted to share her true name.
Guan Qiuyi’s eyes flickered, a spark of recognition. “Tao Fuan?” she whispered, her voice frail.
Her face was wrinkled, her eyes clouded with age, her life force fading, the beauty mark between her eyebrows dimming, yet in Tao Ning’s eyes, she was still the same, the girl she had fallen in love with, her image forever etched in her heart.
Tao Ning, her voice soft, repeated, “Yes. My real name. Tao Fuan.”
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