Enchanting Wife, Relentless Debt: The Older Man's Love Burden

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport, she gazed through the thick glass. The scorching sunlight bathed the sky in an endless expanse of blue, with a few wisps of white clouds appearing as though they might melt under its relentless heat. The ground was a patchwork of varying shades of green, interspersed with smooth expanses of concrete, radiating waves of warmth. In the distance, clusters of trees dotted the horizon, and occasionally, a plane would take flight, carving a silver trail through the sky. If not for the air conditioning inside, this sweltering day might have been enough to melt a person. Yet, in just half an hour, beneath this blazing sun, the aircraft would carry her dreams from the distant South River to the unfamiliar North—her destination, Qing University, where she would spend the next four years of her life. "Xiaowan, are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you?" The woman standing beside her was dressed in an elegant silk dress of pale blue, the delicate jade bracelet on her fair wrist glistening with an icy translucence. Though nearing forty, she was impeccably maintained, her refined appearance exuding grace and charm. With her poised demeanor, gentle features, and long hair neatly gathered at the back of her head, she carried an air of quiet nobility that drew occasional admiring glances. "Hmm." The girl, her back to the woman, uttered a faint reply, her gaze fixed on the tarmac beyond the glass. Following her daughter’s line of sight, the woman squinted slightly. Even indoors, the sunlight was so blinding that it made her eyes ache. "Your uncle is busy and may not have much time to look after you. If anything comes up, call your father or me." The woman’s voice was calm, yet beneath her composed expression, a trace of concern flickered. As she studied her daughter’s distant demeanor, a slight crease formed between her brows, though her eyes were filled with warmth and resignation. At her words, the corners of the girl’s lips curled slightly, as if mocking some unspoken thought. How many years had it been since a child, once taken in by the Wen family, left behind descendants? Simply because of the surname "Wen," she was expected to call this man "Uncle." Yet, in all her years, she had never once met him, nor even heard mention of him. If not for the fact that she was heading to Qing University, she might never have known of his existence at all. "Don’t you have a meeting at ten?" The girl tilted her head slightly, casting a sidelong glance at the woman. Her long, waist-length hair cascaded down her shoulder, smooth and lustrous. Even with only half of her face visible, her luminous, porcelain-like skin, soft pink lips, and delicate nose framed a pair of eyes as deep and dazzling as the night sky—so breathtakingly exquisite that they left one momentarily breathless. The woman hesitated for a brief moment at the unexpected question, instinctively lowering her gaze to her wristwatch. Indeed, the meeting was set to begin in just a short while. "Go on then. If you have time, come visit me." The girl turned back toward the window, her voice composed as she added, "It’s time for me to leave as well." With that, she reached for her suitcase from the bodyguard’s hands and walked away without looking back. "Xiaowan." The woman called out, watching her daughter’s retreating figure, a hint of urgency in her eyes. The girl turned, her expression unshaken, eerily calm. The woman faltered, the words she had intended to say caught in her throat. After a moment’s pause, she finally spoke, her voice soft yet resolute, "Call me when you arrive." She maintained her smile, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her unease. "Hmm." Another faint response, barely audible. The woman glanced at her daughter, who was already lining up for check-in, then at her watch. Her gaze turned cold and distant. "Back to the company," she ordered, before striding away without another glance. The gentle warmth she had worn moments ago faded, replaced by an air of detached efficiency. "Miss, please present your identification." The airport staff’s voice interrupted her thoughts. The girl extended her hand, offering her documents, but her gaze remained fixed on the glass. The figure that had been waiting for her was already gone. She lowered her eyes slightly, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, indifferent smile—one tinged with bitter resignation. She had known this would happen. What was there to expect? "Miss, here’s your ID. Please keep it safe." She accepted it silently and proceeded to board. As always, it was a first-class seat, by the window—her preferred spot. After stowing her luggage, she cast one last glance outside. This was the place where she had been born, where she had spent seventeen springs, summers, autumns, and winters. Yet, as she prepared to leave, she realized—there was nothing here she would miss. Perhaps, just as they all said, she was born cold and unfeeling. In her bones, she belonged only to herself. She had never placed anyone else in her heart. She never cared. Affection, friendship, love—if they weren’t pure, if they didn’t come from the depths of the heart—then to her, they were all just lies. Reclining her seat, she pulled a pillow over herself and let the thin blanket swallow her up. In three hours, a new life awaited her—one uncertain, yet strangely exhilarating.