Delicate Beauty in the Palm : Chapter 55 - It Seemed Like She was Finally Able to Let Go of This Matter

July 24, 2025 Oyen 0 Comments

Happy Reading~

Chapter 55: It Seemed Like She was Finally Able to Let Go of This Matter

 

After watching the movie, the two of them had a meal at a local mall.

 

Seeing how nervous Chen Die was about returning to that place, Wen Liang simply changed their flight and decided to head back to Yan City first, planning to visit in a couple of days instead.

 

Those two days were nerve-wracking for Chen Die. She couldn’t run from it any longer.

 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go back—it was that she was simply afraid. If what Jiang Xian said was true, then maybe the knot she had carried in her heart for so many years could finally start to loosen. But maybe it would only lead to a deeper layer of disappointment.

 

No hope, no disappointment—that saying was painfully accurate.

 

Two days later, after going to the gym at noon, Chen Die returned home and anxiously began packing her luggage. 

 

Wen Liang had said it was a trip, so they planned to be gone for around five days.

 

Chen Diesat on a floor cushion in the living room with the suitcase open at her feet, slowly folding and placing clothes into it one piece at a time.

 

Just as she was once again tempted to back out, Wen Liang called.

 

“Hello?” she answered.

 

Wen Liang asked, “Packing now?”

 

“Yeah, just started.”

 

“There’s something I need to take care of here, so I might not be able to go with you tomorrow. Can we leave the day after instead?” he asked.

 

Chen Die paused, oddly relieved. “It’s fine, take care of your stuff first. No rush.”

 

Wen Liang chuckled, “One day will be enough.”

 

But her brief moment of relief didn’t last long. True to his word, Wen Liang wrapped things up in a day.

 

On Friday morning, the two of them set off with their suitcases.

 

The small town where Chen Die had grown up was called Wuxi. It used to be a traditional land of fish and rice, and in recent years had developed a tourism industry. The nearby town had only recently built a new airport.

 

They landed at that airport.

 

Since Chen Die was easy to recognize, taking a taxi wasn’t ideal. Wen Liang had rented a car in advance for convenience and navigated the drive to Wuxi himself.

 

Chen Die looked out the window.

 

Wuxi had changed a lot. It was nothing like the place she remembered from seven years ago.

 

There were now many tall buildings, and some of the older houses had been refurbished into cozy homestays with colorful murals on the exterior walls.

 

The closer they got, the more familiar the scenery became to Chen Die.

 

On the right side was a small river, still clear, with lotus leaves floating on top. When they were kids, she and a few others used to pick water chestnuts there after school, biting into them for a sweet taste with a hint of bitterness.

 

And on the left were the residential buildings.

 

From a distance, Chen Die spotted the most familiar one—it was right across from a bus stop. Just like Jiang Xian had said, it had been renovated and looked even newer than when she had left.

 

Her heart started racing, but she didn’t tell Wen Liang that this was her old home.

 

The car quickly passed by, and the building disappeared from view.

 

Wen Liang drove them straight to the hotel they’d booked. After checking in, he carried both their suitcases upstairs.

 

It wasn’t a luxury hotel—just the best available in the area. The suite had two bedrooms and a living room. When they swiped the card and stepped in, the place wasn’t luxurious, but it was clean.

 

Wen Liang set down the luggage, washed his hands in the bathroom, then came out and pulled Chen Die to sit beside him.

 

“Are there any tourist spots in Wuxi?” he asked.

 

“…I’m not sure.” Chen Die had been so nervous about possibly seeing her adoptive parents that she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to be showing Wen Liang around. She quickly pulled out her phone and opened a search app. “When I was a kid, it didn’t feel like there was anything worth seeing.”

 

She typed in: Wuxi travel guide.

 

Several attractions popped up.

 

Things like amusement parks, aquariums, and zoos—all of which sounded impressive at first glance. But when she looked more closely, she realized these were the same spots her elementary school had taken them to on field trips.

 

Nothing special, and yet they were listed as tourist attractions.

 

Scrolling down, she finally found one: “How about we go to Nanqian Old Street? It’s got lots of street food.”

 

“Sure,” Wen Liang agreed without hesitation.

 

“But we should go in the evening. It’s too crowded during the day.”

 

“Okay. Then get some rest first.”

 

They relaxed for a bit at the hotel.

 

Wen Liang was busy with work. This trip with Chen Die had been a last-minute decision a few days ago, so he hadn’t had time to tie up all his tasks. He took out his laptop and started working in the living room.

 

Chen Die quietly watched him work for a while before scooting over, a little hesitant: “Did you still have a bunch of work left from yesterday?”

 

Wen Liang paused his typing. “Nah, I’m almost done.”

 

Looking at the data on his screen, Chen Die said, “If you’re busy, we don’t have to go out tonight.”

 

“We came here just to stay at a hotel?” Wen Liang chuckled, gently squeezing her hand. “Getting bored already?”

 

“No,” Chen Die said, not wanting to disturb him. “You go ahead, I’m going to check out a new script.”

 

By evening, as the sky gradually darkened, Wen Liang finally closed his laptop.

 

Chen Die put on a wide-brimmed hat that covered half her face and headed out with Wen Liang.

 

Nanqian Old Street wasn’t far from their hotel, so they walked instead of driving.

 

Wuxi, being at a lower latitude, was already quite warm this time of year. Chen Die wore a short-sleeved white dress, and Wen Liang wore a white shirt and black pants.

 

The two of them were quite striking, drawing glances from the locals as they passed by. Chen Die kept her head down the entire way. Thankfully, the lighting along the streets wasn’t too bright in the evening—otherwise, some people who’d seen Wen Liang’s pictures online might’ve recognized him.

 

“Let’s walk by the river.” 

 

Chen Die nudged him, and they stepped down toward the riverbank.

 

The evening breeze carried the moisture of the water as it gently brushed past them.

 

There weren’t many people on the path by the river—just a few elderly men sitting off to the side, fishing with flashlights in hand. Chen Die finally dared to lift her head a little.

 

Up ahead, a stone plaque came into view, with four large characters carved into it: Nanqian Old Street.

 

Normally, only local kids and a few tourists visited this area. It was a Friday night in April—still not peak tourist season—so there weren’t many people around.

 

That said, Wuxi’s recent tourism development had kept the street clean and well-maintained. On either side were old buildings rich with history, and even a small traditional stage for performances.

 

“I used to really like the rice cakes from here when I was a kid.”

 

Chen Die spoke as she led Wen Liang to a rice cake stall.

 

The friendly shop owner greeted them warmly in a local accent. “What would you like to try? We’ve got several flavors. You can sample a few—rice cake is a local specialty.”

 

Chen Die ordered one original, one salted egg yolk, and one cranberry rice cake, tugging her hat down a little as she spoke.

 

The lady packed them up and even threw in an extra red date rice cake, handing it to Wen Liang with a smile. “Wishing you two a baby soon!”

 

Chen Die froze for a second and tilted her head to glance at Wen Liang.

 

But he didn’t seem fazed at all. He paid, took the bag, and even gave the woman a rare smile. “Thank you.”

 

Chen Die: “......”

 

They also grabbed a cup of plum juice and a fruit plate from a nearby stall before sitting down on a wooden bench by the stream.

 

The rice cakes were sweet. Wen Liang wasn’t much of a sweet tooth, so he took a bite of the original flavor and then glanced at Chen Die.

 

She was holding the cranberry one, gently peeling off the sticky cranberries with her pale fingers and popping them into her mouth before taking a bite of the cake itself. A faint circle of her lipstick had transferred to the edge.

 

Wen Liang gradually became entranced, as if he had traveled through time and was looking at a young Chen Die living her old life in Wuxi.

 

A little girl sitting by the riverbank, nibbling on her sweet, sticky rice cake.

 

So this was what her life used to be like.

 

They strolled around Nanqian Old Street a bit more before heading back, walking slowly and chatting along the way.

 

Nightlife was sparse in this area—by 8:30 p.m., the streets were already quiet. A few elderly people sat chatting under a streetlamp at the corner of an alley, cracking sunflower seeds.

 

Chen Die had always been like an ostrich burying its head in the sand, avoiding any thoughts or memories of this place. But walking through it now with Wen Liang, it didn’t seem so scary anymore.

 

It was just… a place she had once lived for a while, nothing more.

 

Her voice was soft, but she chattered on, telling Wen Liang little stories from her past, and the memories slowly started to come alive again.

 

After a while, Wen Liang asked, “Do you want to go take a look now?”

 

Chen Die looked up.

 

Only then did she realize they had unknowingly walked to the bus stop across from her old home. She turned to the left—and there it was, the familiar building.

 

Her toes shifted slightly. She stared at the building for a moment, then quietly lifted her hand and pointed. “That’s it. That’s where I used to live.”

 

Wen Liang followed her gaze and silently took her hand, wrapping it gently in his. His voice was calm and soft: “Want to go over?”

 

“It’s so late already,” Chen Die began making excuses again. “They’ve probably gone to bed. Let’s come back tomorrow.”

 

“The lights are still on.” Wen Liang lifted his chin slightly, motioning toward the lit window on the second floor.

 

Chen Die pressed her lips together and didn’t respond.

 

Wen Liang didn’t push her. He simply held her hand patiently. “Then we’ll come back tomorrow.”

 

Chen Die walked with him a few steps, then lowered her head and quietly explained, “It’s just… going in like this feels weird. I don’t even know what I’d say. It’s awkward. They probably don’t want to see me anyway. Brother Jiang Xian said they had a son later… I’d just be disturbing them.”

 

Wen Liang gave a quiet “mm” and gently squeezed her hand.

 

But after only a few more steps, a breeze brushed past from behind—carrying a voice she thought she had long forgotten, yet was instantly familiar. Trembling, quiet, it called: “Chen Die.”

 

She turned around.

 

Before coming here, she had imagined so many possible scenarios for this reunion. But she never expected… this.

 

Wang Mian was holding a trash bin—probably from the kitchen—its contents dripping bits of vegetable scraps and oily soup. She stood not far away, the streetlight casting its glow on her face. Her back was slightly hunched, and she wore linen sleeves with light blue floral cuffs over her shirt.

 

Chen Die’s long lashes trembled as she looked up at her face.

 

She looked much older now. Deep wrinkles lined the corners of her eyes and her nasolabial folds. Her hair was tied into a low, messy bun, with a few strands falling around her neck. Chen Die watched as a pool of tears slowly welled up in her eyes. Then, with a shiver, a tear fell.

 

That single tear seemed to land right on the softest part of Chen Die’s heart, soaking into the long-hardened core and making it just a little softer, a little smoother.

 

Wen Liang let go of her hand.

 

Chen Die paused, tilting her head to look up at him.

 

He said quietly, “It’s up to you—go over, or head back to the hotel.”

 

Chen Die stood there for a long time before finally taking off her wide-brimmed hat and looking toward Wang Mian.

 

The willows along the bank had sprouted bright green buds, and catkins floated in the air.

 

Wang Mian staggered toward her. She lifted her arms slightly, then quickly dropped them again.

 

Right now, with the two of them standing together, they didn’t seem like people from the same world at all. Anyone passing by would struggle to believe that Chen Die had once been raised by this woman.

 

Chen Die was simply too radiant—even in a plain white dress, she looked untouchably elegant, someone Wang Mian didn’t dare approach.

 

Wang Mian gave a small, awkward smile and wiped her apron. “My hands are dirty.”

 

Chen Die didn’t know how to react. She could tell that Wang Mian had wanted to hug her just now, but Chen Die still didn’t know how to open her arms to her.

 

She didn’t even know what to call her.

 

‘Mom’ wouldn’t come out.

 

But ‘aunt’ didn’t feel right either.

 

So she could only manage a soft, “Mm.”

 

My hands are dirty.

 

Mm.

 

Chen Die frowned slightly, frustrated with herself for saying the wrong thing.

 

Thankfully, Wang Mian didn’t seem to mind. She kept wiping her hands on her apron. After a while, she finally managed to say, “Come in, sit for a while.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Inside the house, not much had changed. Chen Die glanced around, then took Wen Liang’s hand and sat down at the table.

 

Wang Mian hurried to put the trash bin back in the kitchen, washed her hands, and brought out two cups of tea with a few floating leaves. She placed them in front of the two and said, “It’s not fancy tea—just something to soothe your throat.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. Sit down too,” Chen Die said. After a pause, she asked, “Where is he?”

 

Chen Jianping wasn’t home.

 

“After dinner, the factory called about a power short. He went over to fix it.” Wang Mian took off her apron and sat across from them. “What brought you back here?”

 

“I didn’t have much work lately, so I brought my…” She paused, looked at Wen Liang, and continued, “I brought my boyfriend to look around a bit.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Wang Mian nodded, then cautiously glanced at Wen Liang again, quickly looking away.

 

“I ran into Brother Jiang Xian from next door a while back,” Chen Die said.

 

“Ah? Oh, yeah, I heard from his mother. He’s doing well now—started a business in a big city.”

 

Chen Die said, “He told me you’ve been doing alright these past few years, health’s been good too. Your child—are they in kindergarten or elementary school now?”

 

Wang Mian grew uneasy again, fidgeting as she answered, “Y-yeah, we’re doing fine. He’s doing okay in school, too. He’s about to start elementary school. Not home tonight—he’s staying over at his uncle’s.”

 

Chen Die nodded, suddenly unsure of how to continue. She picked up her teacup and took a sip of the warm tea.

 

Wen Liang rested his hand gently on her shoulder and gave a silent squeeze.

 

Wang Mian broke the silence: “Work’s been keeping you busy, hasn’t it?”

 

“Yeah. I’ll be joining a new crew soon.” She realized Wang Mian might not understand what she meant by ‘joining a crew,’ so she added, “It’s for a new film I’m getting ready to shoot.”

 

“Oh, I see.” Wang Mian nodded repeatedly. “I’ve seen lots of people praising you on my phone. I… your dad and I went to the town’s cinema on New Year’s Day to watch your movie. It was really well done.”

 

Chen Die hadn’t expected their reunion to be so calm and civil, like two old friends catching up on life.

 

But neither dared to touch the most important, central question.

 

After more than twenty minutes of awkward small talk, Chen Die stood up. “It’s getting late—you should get some rest. We’ll head out now.”

 

Wang Mian looked up at her, opening her mouth as if to say something.

 

Chen Die took Wen Liang’s hand and walked toward the door. She had just reached for the handle when Wang Mian suddenly called out behind her, “Chen Die!”

 

At the same time, Chen Die saw a man outside—Chen Jianping.

 

He had just pulled his motorbike into the yard and taken off his helmet. The moment he saw Chen Die, he froze on the spot. He stared at her for a long moment before slowly walking over. “Leaving already?”

 

Behind her, Wang Mian stood silently, eyes fixed on Chen Die’s back. And suddenly, the tears fell.

 

The wrinkles on her face bunched up like furrows, and tears flowed down through those furrows.

 

“Nannan,” she said in dialect.

 

Chen Die paused mid-step, turned back to glance at her, sighed, and walked over to help her sit back down in the chair. “Don’t cry.”

 

Once the tears fell, some things became easier to say.

 

Wang Mian wiped her eyes with her sleeve, kept her head down, fingers nervously twisting together. “It was your dad and me—we’re the ones who wronged you.”

 

Chen Die stayed silent.

 

“At that time, I got sick. The surgery cost over 200,000 yuan, but our savings were only a little over 100,000.”

 

It matched what Jiang Xian had told her. Chen Die lifted her eyes a little and asked, “Are you better now?”

 

“I’m fine now, completely recovered. The surgery was very successful.” Wang Mian paused, then continued, “Back then, you were in high school and needed summer tutoring. The school called us and said they were bringing in a top teacher from the city. The fee for the summer was over 8,000 yuan, and we just couldn’t afford it.”

 

“And then your biological parents showed up. They came to see me and your dad first. We knew they were wealthy—owned a company in a big city. They told us that you could get the best education and opportunities only by going back to them. That you'd inherit the family business one day, and live a life a hundred times better than what we could give you. A brighter future.”

 

Chen Die froze. That wasn’t how she’d imagined it at all.

 

She frowned slightly and asked, “So it wasn’t because of the surgery cost?”

 

“What?”

 

“I always thought you gave me up because of the surgery cost.”

 

“How could that be!” Chen Jianping, off to the side, reacted immediately, his voice sharp. After a moment, he seemed to realize he’d overreacted and muttered again, “How could it be that…”

 

Wang Mian looked up and asked, “You’ve always thought we gave you up because of that?”

 

“......”

 

Truthfully, it was only after hearing Jiang Xian’s words the other day that she started to believe that.

 

Before that, she had always assumed it was because she didn’t matter in this home—that she was dispensable—and that was why they had ‘given’ her to the Chen family.

 

“We had already scraped together the 200,000 yuan for the surgery through friends and relatives,” Wang Mian continued, “but once it was done, there was nothing left. And I… I might have died on the operating table. Your dad and I may not have been able to afford your schooling after that, let alone college.”

 

“When your dad and I took you in, we really raised you as our daughter. I… The doctors said I might never be able to have children. When I got pregnant not long after you left, I was completely shocked. But until that moment, we thought you’d be our only child. We just didn’t expect everything that came after.”

 

She lowered her head. “How could we give you up just for 200,000 yuan…”

 

Chen Die bit her lip, heart pounding in her chest.

 

“But we wanted what was best for you.”

 

“I only went to junior high. I’ve always admired people with a high education. Back then, I thought—my little girl has to be like that, has to be better. But our family was in a tough spot. Too many unknowns.”

 

“And besides… they’re your biological parents. My girl was meant to live a good life. Whatever she wanted, she could have. I just… I couldn’t bear for you to suffer with us. The doctors even said there was a 50% chance the surgery might fail. I couldn’t imagine how you’d grow up living with your dad alone if I didn’t make it.”

 

Chen Die’s throat felt dry, her eyelids burning.

 

“When your biological parents came, they brought a lawyer. The adoption paperwork we did back then wasn’t properly done—honestly, I didn’t really understand the legal stuff. But they told us that even if we fought it in court, they’d win custody. On the day you left, I collapsed from the illness and had to be hospitalized. I couldn’t even see you off.”

 

Wang Mian had grown up in this town and only went to school for a few years. She didn’t have much education, and around people like them, she always felt this deep-rooted inferiority.

 

But even in that feeling of inferiority, she still dreamed that one day, Chen Die would never be like her.

 

Born into that self-doubt, she had always felt that she was the one holding Chen Die back—that Chen Die had always belonged to another life, a richer world where she wouldn’t have to worry about money.

 

But even so—they had raised her for 16 years. If there had been even a little more money, a little more hope back then, she wouldn’t have let Chen Die go.

 

Chen Jianping came out of the back room holding a thick brown paper folder, packed with papers—bills, receipts for utility payments, and other household expenses.

 

He flipped through it for a long time before finally finding a page with a few train tickets attached.

 

Train tickets from Wuxi Station to Yan City Station.

 

Chen Die stared at those two place names over and over, unable to describe how she felt. She had always believed that after being abandoned by her birth family, she was again handed over with indifference by the people who raised her—like she was someone who could be kept or discarded on a whim. She hadn’t chosen either side back then, just took a chance and left with Wen Liang, who was practically a stranger.

 

But now, it seemed—she hadn’t been abandoned after all.

 

Instead, when Wang Mian and Chen Jianping were completely overwhelmed by hardship, they gave her up with all the love and hope they had, wishing for her to live a better life.

 

Even if it wasn’t the life she had wanted.

 

But maybe now—she could finally let this go.

 

So many years had passed, and what she had wanted all along was simply a true explanation.

 

“Did you ever come to Yan City?” Chen Die asked softly.

 

“We did, but we never saw you. We didn’t even know where your parents lived in Yan City,” she lowered her head, “That place was too big.”

 

Chen Die didn’t know what to say. She turned her head and stared out the window in a daze for a long while, then finally turned back and said: “I’m home.”

 

Wang Mian finally broke into sobs, covering her mouth as she cried and said in a choked voice, “Just stay here tonight, okay? Your room’s still kept for you, and I just aired out the bedding.”

 

At the time, Chen Die didn’t think to wonder why the bedding in her room had just been aired.

 

Wang Mian turned to Wen Liang. “If you don’t mind, you can stay in my son’s room. He’s not home.”

 

Chen Die glanced at him, worried he wouldn’t sleep well there.

 

But Wen Liang had already nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”

 

So many years of the past were swept away with just a few words. They had reconciled— with each other and with the past.

 

Chen Die didn’t snap out of her daze until she stepped into her old bedroom. The familiar layout was still there, and everything looked just the way she remembered it.

 

And yet… it was like she could finally breathe again.

 

She sat on what used to be her bed and gently touched the sheets, the sensation both foreign and familiar.

 

It was as if her mind was running on a delay. Only now did the lump rise in her throat, a wave of bittersweet emotion surging up.

 

She lingered a long time before finally lying down. Before sleeping, she sent a message to Wen Liang in the room next door:

 

[Chen Die: Are you asleep?]

 

She waited a while, but there was no reply.

 

Could he really be asleep already?

 

It’s still so early… didn’t seem likely.

 

Chen Die set the phone aside and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts wandered to the things Wang Mian had said earlier.

 

She turned over and soon started to feel thirsty.

 

There was no water dispenser in the bedroom. After hesitating a bit, she decided to go downstairs for some water.

 

She didn’t turn on the lights and used the glow from her phone screen to guide her down the stairs. But suddenly, she heard voices—Wen Liang and Wang Mian talking—and froze. She quickly pressed her phone to her chest and turned off the screen.

 

Wang Mian’s voice, filled with emotion: “I really have to thank you. If you hadn’t brought her back, I don’t know when I would’ve ever had the chance to talk to her and explain everything. Ever since the surgery went well, I’ve been full of regret, but I never saw her again.”

 

Wen Liang replied, “It was her idea to come. If she hadn’t wanted to, I wouldn’t have forced her. She was really nervous about coming these past few days, so I came ahead to get a sense of things—just to make sure she wouldn’t be disappointed.”

 

Wang Mian’s eyes still brimmed with tears. “Now that I see she has someone like you by her side, I feel at ease.”

 

Then Wen Liang took out a bank card from his pocket and handed it to her. “Please take this.”

 

Wang Mian immediately waved it off. “No, no, I can’t take that. You two are working so hard in the big city—it’s not easy. Just use that money to get her something nice to eat.”

 

She had no idea how much money was on that card and couldn’t even imagine.

 

Wen Liang wasn’t great at handling emotional moments like this. At that moment, a noise came from behind them—something falling.

 

He turned around and saw Chen Die standing in the dark.

 

He put the card on the table and walked straight toward her.

 

……

And finally, she understood. She realized what Wen Liang had been doing the day before they left—when he said he had something to take care of.

 

She realized why, right as they were near her childhood home, he asked if she wanted to stop by.

 

She realized how Wang Mian had recognized her back at night just from her back, even though she’d been wearing a hat.

 

And she realized why the bedding in her old room had been freshly aired.

 

He had come here the day before.

 

Because she was nervous. Because she was scared of hearing something that might hurt her. So he came ahead of time—to hear the answer first.

 

He had turned himself into her armor and her shield. And once he heard the answer was good, he brought her here—because he knew she wouldn’t be hurt.

 

Chen Die’s eyes filled with tears. She looked at him and asked, “You were here already, weren’t you?”

 

Wen Liang looked at her, pulled her into a hug, and said: “Yes.”

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