It's just that they have money.

Ivy's voice trembled.

"I pulled her out of the mud, and she turned around and jumped into another one. What have I been doing all these years?"

Fang Chen was silent for a moment, then said, "You did what you were supposed to do. How she chooses is her business."

"There's another one," Ivy continued, her voice muffled. "She graduated last year with a design degree. I helped her find a job at a design firm, and she's doing quite well. Last month, the company had a big project, and she submitted several drafts, but none of them were satisfactory. She called me, ostensibly to ask for advice and to learn more, to ask for my help."

Ivy looked up at the white smoke rising from the barbecue stall, her eyes vacant.

"I spent the whole night helping her revise the plan. From the spatial layout to the material selection, from the lighting design to the soft furnishings, every detail was re-examined. She submitted the revised plan, the boss was very satisfied, and the project was secured."

She took a deep breath.

"The boss asked her, 'Did you create the plan yourself?' She said, 'Yes.'"

Fang Chen frowned.

How did you know?

"The design director of that company was my college roommate," Ivy said with a wry smile. "He recognized my style and called to ask me about it. I said... never mind, she just graduated, it's not easy for her, let's not pursue it."

"I told my roommate not to talk about our relationship just to protect her self-esteem..."

She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the sky.

The night in Jiangcheng is starless, with only a few faint points of light, indistinguishable from stars or distant lights.

"I started supporting them with the first money I earned from part-time jobs in college. Mr. Fang, tell me, wasn't I foolish?"

Fang Chen was silent for a moment, then said, "You're not stupid, you're just soft-hearted."

Ivy froze for a moment, then tears fell silently down her cheeks.

"Being soft-hearted? What's the use of being soft-hearted? Being soft-hearted will only make you bullied."

Fang Chen put down the beer bottle and looked at her profile.

The light from the charcoal fire fell on her face, and Fang Chen looked at her so closely for the first time.

Her features were striking, and there was a touch of heroism in her eyes, but at this moment they were covered by fatigue and alcohol, like a sword covered in dust.

"Do your family members know that you are sponsoring these students?" Fang Chen asked.

She lowered her head and remained silent for a long time.

"My mom knows," she said, her voice even softer than before. "She said I'm mentally ill, that I can't even live my own life properly, yet I'm worrying about others."

Fang Chen didn't say anything, and asked the owner to grill some more meat skewers, waiting for her to continue.

"She divorced my dad over ten years ago. My dad was a construction worker, and my mom thought he was too unsophisticated and poor, so she went and married a businessman and left." Ivy's voice was flat, as if she were talking about someone else's story. "I was just starting elementary school when she left. She said, 'Ivy, you should live with your dad. Mom can't afford to raise you.'"

The charcoal fire at the barbecue stall crackled and sparks flew up.

Fang Chen realized he had spoken out of turn and remained silent.

Ivy grabbed the skewers of now-cold beef, stuffed them into her mouth, chewed a few times, and swallowed them whole. Then she turned to Fang Chen and asked, "After all these years, do you know why she contacted me for the first time?"

"What?"

"He found out from my grandmother that I was making money from my studio, and he called to ask me to borrow 50,000 yuan, saying that my stepfather's business was having cash flow problems."

Ivy suddenly laughed as she said this.

"I've never even seen that guy."

Fang Chen looked at her and remained silent for a long time.

"My dad knows, but he doesn't understand."

She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously drawing circles on the table.

"He's not a bad person, he just doesn't understand." Ivy's voice was soft. "He thinks it's already a lot of hard work for him to raise me and support me through college. After I graduated, instead of making money, he did all that sponsorship, started a studio, and made himself broke."

She looked up at the white smoke rising from the barbecue stall, her gaze distant.

"He doesn't care if I spend my own money, but he just doesn't understand. He says, 'You can't even take care of yourself, how can you help others?'"

"You know, Mr. Fang, sometimes I feel that I sponsor those girls not because I'm so noble, but because I've seen it all and I don't want them to become like me."

She turned her head and looked at Fang Chen, her face glistening with tears.

She paused, then lowered her voice.

"But they don't need me anymore. One chose a shortcut, and the other chose betrayal. What I've done all these years seems... seems meaningless."

The freshly grilled skewers were served by the owner.

Fang Chen picked up a skewer of beef and handed it to her.

"eat."

Ivy glanced at him, took the beef, took a bite, and chewed it carefully.

"What you did was meaningful." Fang Chen paused, considering his words. "Helping them was your own choice. What they choose is their business. You can't let other people's choices negate your own."

"You can't say that what you did was meaningless just because those two people made problematic choices."

Ivy lowered her head and finally burst into tears, each tear falling onto the back of her hand.

Fang Chen didn't say anything more.

Those financial aid issues, those betrayals and disappointments, and the matter of my mother—those things can't be resolved with a barbecue or a few words of comfort.

But at least, she cried.

Sometimes, it's good to cry.

After a while, Ivy rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and took a deep breath.

"Mr. Fang."

"Um?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I wasn't talking about today." Ivy's voice was nasal, but her breathing was much steadyer than before. "I meant, thank you for not asking me why I drank so much. Thank you for not saying things like 'everything will be alright.' Thank you."

She paused.

"Thank you for treating me like a normal person."

"You're a normal person. You cry when you drink too much, and you get hungry after you cry. Eat up, it's getting cold."

Ivy looked down at the skewer in her hand and suddenly smiled.

This time it was a genuine laugh, not a bitter laugh, not a self-deprecating laugh.

Holding up the skewer, she called out loudly to the owner, "Boss, it's delicious!"

Fang Chen handed over another string of them.

The two sat in front of the barbecue stall, one eating skewers and the other drinking beer, neither of them saying a word.

After finishing his drinks and skewers, Fang Chen stood up and dusted off his pants.

"Let's go, I'll take you home."

Ivy looked at him suspiciously: "You've been drinking, you shouldn't be driving, right?"

"I'll call you a car."

"I'll call it myself."

Ivy took out her phone and found that it was out of battery.

"Let me call you a car."

The car is coming.

Fang Chen opened the car door, Ai Wei got in, and rolled down the window.

"Mr. Fang."

"Um?"

"As a token of my gratitude, I will make sure to take good care of your villa."

Fang Chen smiled and said, "This is clearly your responsibility."

Ivy laughed along, a very happy laugh.

Good night, Mr. Fang.

"Good night."