CHAPTER 515: CHAPTER 211: A JULY WEDDING IN FRANCE (PART 2)

When she saw the news of her mother’s unfortunate imprisonment, she both cried and screamed. When she saw Su Ziceng and Su Qingzhang severed their relationship, she laughed out loud. The Su Family’s servants thought she had gone mad and no one dared to approach her.

Chang Chi’s plan had succeeded. Su Ziceng had lost everything. She was expelled from the Su Family, her lover had abandoned her and was about to marry Wen Maixue. Unbeknownst to her, all these things had transpired.

Chang Chi laughed till the end, kneeling on the ground, staring at those few lines of text as if she had become the mad Su Ziceng herself. She wanted to escape and see the scene of Su Ziceng’s collapse, then she could... freely mock her own younger sister.

"Tell Su Ziceng, please go tell Su Ziceng," with swollen eyes, tears uncontrollably falling, Chang Chi sat on the ground, pleading, "Tell her, she’s been deceived by Pello, he’s going to get engaged to Wen Maixue in France. That man, he’s a devil, it’s he who has caused the Su Family to end up like this."

Sister Mu listened to the ravings of this strange woman, shaking her head ceaselessly. She didn’t believe the words of this mad woman. How could Pello marry Wen Maixue, he clearly loved Su Ziceng. It seemed Pello truly loved Su Ziceng, but did he really?

"Miss Chang, what’s wrong with you?" The sales assistant tried to help Chang Chi up, recognizing her from newspaper pictures.

"Miss Chang?" Sister Mu couldn’t help but take a few steps closer, "You are Chang Chi!"

So, was everything she just said true or false?

"Tell Ziceng, tell her, oh god, why, why is she my younger sister, I can’t hate her, I can’t," Chang Chi, clutching at her own hair, ripped tufts out, revealing the raw scalp with blood drawn, the sight of black hair was shockingly horrifying.

"Miss Chang," Sister Mu’s voice trembled, she had to inform Ziceng, but should she really tell her this news? Perhaps Su Ziceng, unaware of all this, would be happier.

When the plane landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport, Su Ziceng immediately contacted Lin Ying, who mentioned that she was still in the United States and would arrive in Paris in three days. She also specifically reminded Su Ziceng that her basement was still under lease, and if Su Ziceng didn’t want to stay in a hotel, she could stay there.

"As for the key, you know, it’s under the doormat outside," Su Ziceng had already experienced Lin Ying’s carefree nature and after some consideration, decided to stay at Lin Ying’s place, which had once given her a feeling of home warmth.

However, this feeling of home warmth seemed to turn stale in the summer. Lin Ying had invited Su Ziceng out of goodwill, but Lin Ying had been traveling around the world over the years, rarely settling in the Parisian basement, and she had forgotten that the un-airconditioned basement in the summer, apart from the pervasive smell of sewage, the sticky air could suffocate someone to death inside.

After living there for a day and ending up with a row of small heat rash on her body, Su Ziceng decided to change her place.

There were several well-reputed and well-furnished hotels near downtown Paris. Su Ziceng’s requirements for accommodation weren’t as high as before, but she still decided to find a comfortable hotel to stay in.

Before looking for a hotel, she first visited the ZARA store where she used to work. The Jamaican sales assistant cheered upon seeing her, along with several other faces both familiar and strange. Su Ziceng still had some regrets about the incident with ZARA, perhaps after Pello had sorted everything out, they could once again approach Orleans for negotiating the franchise rights.

The franchise rights for ZARA in Asia had already been bought by Olson over a year ago, but there had been no movement since, presumably because the spoiled rich kid of Orleans who had inherited the family business, was not that interested in this sector.

After a brief meeting with the staff at ZARA, Su Ziceng headed towards the direction of Champs Elysees.

The familiar florist by the Seine River was still bustling, celebrating the National Day, every florist shop displayed the freshest bouquets. Some were wrapped in crystal paper, others held by a single red ribbon.

"Miss," as Su Ziceng was admiring, a warm face peeked out from the florist’s, who might this be?