Chapter 10 All The World's A Stage, And All The Man And Woman Are Merely Players
Chapter 10 All The World's A Stage, And All The Man And Woman Are Merely Players
Meanwhile, at Zed's villa, Jean received a phone call from her father, Henry. After she finished
speaking with him, Jean tossed the phone on the bed. There was no way that she was going to
consider what he had said.
Jean was still wearing the pajama's Zed had helped her put on the previous night. She smiled as she
thought of how considerate Zed had been. He had insisted on checking her injuries and had applied
medicine to her wounds.
She had expected to be in tremendous pain after the beating. But Zed's medicine had helped the
wounds get better. Most had started scabbing as well. Just as Jean's body was healing quickly, the
wound on her heart was closing as well.
Jean walked to the closet to find a suit of clean clothes. She picked a chiffon shirt and matched it with a
pair of casual pants.
She then changed out of the pajamas. Although she was still recovering, the casual outfit made her feel
much better.
Jean sauntered around the villa slowly. After a thorough search, she still couldn't find Zed. Did he leave
for work early in the morning?
And now, it was nearly noon.
At the thought, Jean's stomach rumbled to remind her that she hadn't eaten anything all day. She
stepped into the kitchen to make herself some food. Jean was surprised to see a note stuck to the
fridge door.
Normally, Jean was the only person who frequented the kitchen. Since their marriage, Zed had never
entered the kitchen. Who would leave her a note?
With this in mind, Jean slowly approached the fridge. Since she had no reason to believe that Zed
would have left her a note, she was being cautious.
"There's some warm food in the pot."
The note was written simply. As was customary with Zed, he used as few words as possible. However,
gentleness and warmth could be sensed from the note.
Jean stared at the note blankly. She was still trying to come to terms with the change in Zed's behavior
from the previous night. How should she react to the note? Should she be moved? Happy? Feel
blessed?
Considering the circumstances of her marriage with Zed, how could she possibly feel blessed?
'Zed probably did this out of some sense of concern for my injuries, ' she rationalized. 'It is not possibly
an act of love.
No, it can't be for love.'
After thinking for a while, Jean found it too challenging to figure out Zed's intentions. So she just gave
up. Although still unsure about Zed's intentions, Jean's stomach wouldn't allow her to wait any longer.
So she lifted the lid and peeped inside. She smiled when she saw steaming hot red date congee.
Tentatively Jean took a small taste of the congee. 'It is so unexpectedly good! I thought he had made a
common congee. I was so wrong!' The congee had a generous helping of red dates and longans. The
ingredients were common, but they complimented the congee really well. The gruel was neither
excessively sweet nor insipid. It was just perfect.
The effort made by Zed to prepare the special congee not only surprised Jean, it also evoked her
appreciation for Zed. It was undeniable that Zed had done a great job, whether with the congee, or withText property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.
his considerate and consistent care.
Jean was amazed by Zed. All this while, she had thought of him as entitled and conceited. There were
times when he behaved like a child. She would never have imagined that he knew how to cook. What
surprised her even more was that he had made it really well.
Memories of the previous night started popping up in her mind. Zed, the man who was always cold with
Jean, had shown her enormous kindness and care when she was hurt.
Such a gentle and soft Zed was so different to what he had been in the past. It was as if he were a
different person.
'Any girl who is lucky enough to marry Zed in the future would be very blessed indeed! She will, I'm
sure.'
Jean thought as she settled at the table with the meal. Then she turned her attention to the sweet
congee.
Jean devoured the congee. She had completely forgotten that she had left her phone in the bedroom.
The phone rang several times, but Jean couldn't hear it.
In the meanwhile, On the topmost floor of the commercial tower in the city center, Zed stood in front of
the french windows of the executive office. He frowned as he looked at the phone in his hand.
'I have called numerous times, why is she not answering? What is this woman doing? She is still
recovering. So, where could she go?
Maybe her heartless father called her and upset her?'
As Zed tried rationalizing Jean's lack of response to his calls, the direction of his thoughts concerned
him.
'Before I left, I had checked on her condition to make sure the wounds were getting better. She was
injured both physically and mentally after her trip to the Wen house. If it happens again, she will be truly
traumatized.'
Realizing how risky Jean's situation was, Zed immediately hurried out of the commercial tower.
...
At the villa, Jean had just finished devouring the congee. It had been so good that she had eaten
multiple servings. Just as she sat staring at her empty bowl, the doorbell rang.
'Was it Zed?
No, if it were Zed, he would have walked in. He had the key to the villa. Who could it be then?
His parents?'
Jean immediately gave up this thought. However, her curiosity about Zed's parents had been aroused.
Although they had been married for a while, Jean had never seen his family.
Zed was a mystery.
"Ding-dong!"
The bell rang again. Jean had a sense of foreboding. Just as her father had called persistently, the
doorbell was ringing repeatedly.
Jean cleaned the table, and then rushed to the door. She had not even stopped to put on a coat.
However, as she opened the front door of the villa, the two faces that appeared before Jean were
familiar yet strange. Frustrated, she tried closing the door, but couldn't. There was no way back.
'Father? Oh, no! He is no longer my father.
And Shirley Wen!'
Jean took a deep breath and forced herself to appear calm and confident. She soon noticed that they
held several bottles of tonic in their hands. But their fake smile had betrayed them.
'How shameless you are! You turn up at my villa after cutting off all relationships with me on the phone.'
"Sister Jean!"
As Jean tried processing her father's brazenness, Shirley opened her mouth and greeted Jean in a
sing-song tone. Probably for considering her father's decency before his daughter.
Shirley's attitude had changed so abruptly that Jean could barely believe her eyes. Shirley acted so
well that her performance could win her an Oscar.
Jean gave no reply. Instead she looked at them carefully. Her father was clearly not happy about this
visit. Shirley was being melodramatic. To Jean, it was as though she were watching a frigid comedy
show. And she was still unclear about the purpose of their visit.
"Sister Jean, we came here to see you. Last night was all my fault. I shouldn't have said those mean
things to you. Although it was wrong for you to beat me, it was me who irritated you first. I apologize to
you. Please forgive me!"
Shirley said sincerely as though she were telling the truth. Her performance was so convincing that
anybody who didn't know the truth would be easily cheated into thinking that she had been wronged.
That would also make her appear generous for apologizing.
Jean was completely astonished by Shirley's outstanding performance. She finally understood the
significance of the saying 'All the world's a stage, and all the man and woman are merely players'.