Overdo - Like a Fish Placed Over the Fire

Like a Fish Placed Over the Fire

Lei Shaogong stopped before reaching the living room, turning from the stone path into the duty office of the Attendant's Office. In the duty office, the day’s newspapers and mail were being received—categorized, checked, and prepared for clipping and review. He was originally only a titular staff member and had no need to do this work, but he helped organize them out of habit. While he was busy, he heard someone enter the doorway. It was Wang Linda, the Deputy Director of the First Attendant's Office. He and Lei Shaogong were extremely familiar with one another, but at this moment, he only nodded at him. Lei Shaogong asked, "What on earth is going on?" Wang Linda said, "Something happened at Mang Lake—a landslide." Lei Shaogong felt an immediate sense of unease in his heart and asked, "When did this happen?" Wang Linda said, "The phone call came in just after five o’clock. I immediately called Song Mingli and Zhang You over—naturally, he was furious." Lei Shaogong knew this was bad, but he could not voice his concerns aloud.

Wang Linda said, "There is one more thing." Seeing him hesitate, Lei Shaogong walked out of the duty office with him. By this time, there was only a fine drizzle, dampening their clothes. The bluestone pavement in the courtyard had been washed perfectly clean by the rain. A sparrow in the center of the courtyard stepped forward with little hops; seeing the two men walk past, it fluttered up to a tree branch. Wang Linda watched the bird fly up, a look of worry faintly visible on his face as he said, "Last night, the Master found out from somewhere about the Third Young Master’s overdraft. His complexion was terrible at the time. This is a private matter; logically, I shouldn’t be a busybody, but with the Mang Lake incident happening this morning, I am afraid the Master is going to lose his temper." Lei Shaogong knew disaster was imminent and broke into a cold sweat. He steadied himself before asking, "And the Madam?"

Wang Linda said, "She went to Suigang with the Eldest Young Lady yesterday morning."

Lei Shaogong knew that help from afar could not save them from a fire close at hand, so he asked, "Who else is there?"

"The ones here for the meeting are Tang Haoming and his group."

Lei Shaogong stomped his foot and said, "They’re useless. I’m going to call Mr. He." Wang Linda replied, "I’m afraid it’s too late." Before the words had even faded, an attendant officer walked over and said from a distance, "Director Wang, phone call." Wang Linda had no choice but to hurry away. Lei Shaogong immediately went out to call He Xu'an. As luck would have it, the line was busy, but fortunately, as soon as the switchboard reported the incoming call, the other side picked up. He only said, "I am Lei Shaogong, please, could I have a word with Mr. He?" Sure enough, the other party did not dare to be negligent, saying repeatedly, "Please wait a moment." He was so anxious that his hand holding the receiver was slick with sweat. Finally, He Xu'an answered. He only spoke a few sentences, and being a man of such keen perception, the other party immediately said, "I’ll be there at once." Only then did he feel slightly relieved. He hung up the phone and walked back to the duty office.

There was no one in the Attendant's Office; the silence made him feel even more uneasy. He did not know what the situation was inside. Just as he was growing anxious, an attendant officer hurried in and said, "Director Lei, so you are here—the Master is in a terrible rage and has taken out the family discipline rod." This was the one thing he feared hearing most, yet he couldn't avoid it. He hurriedly asked, "Did nobody try to persuade him?"

"None of them dared to stop him, and the Third Young Master refused to beg for mercy."

Lei Shaogong could only stomp his feet. "How could he ever be willing to beg for mercy? This little ancestor’s temper—how many times has he suffered for it?" Yet, knowing there was nothing to be done, he felt only anxiety. After a moment, he heard that the more the others tried to persuade the Master, the more it added fuel to the fire, causing him to strike even harder. The family discipline rod had even been broken, and the Master had grabbed the poker from in front of the fireplace—the one made of white copper. The Director of the Attendant's Office, Jin Yongren, had rushed up to block him, only to be pushed aside, stumbling. The Master had shouted nothing but cruel words: "Get out, all of you!" Jin Yongren, who was usually very capable, knew that things had escalated significantly. He hurriedly came out and said to the attendant officer, "Still standing there? Why aren't you going to call the Madam?"

The attendant officer left in a hurry. Hearing Jin Yongren say this, Lei Shaogong knew the situation was beyond control. He could only walk to the corridor, where he saw He Xu'an’s car entering from afar. He rushed up to open the car door for him. Seeing the look on his face, He Xu'an already guessed seven or eight-tenths of the situation and, without asking a single question, walked briskly toward the east wing. When Jin Yongren saw him, he could not help but feel a sense of relief and personally opened the door for him.

Lei Shaogong paced the corridor several times before he finally saw two people helping Murong Qingyi out. He hurriedly went up to meet them. Seeing that his face was ashen and his steps unsteady, he quickly supported him and ordered those around him, "Go call Dr. Cheng."

Madam Murong and Jin Rui did not rush back until the afternoon. The moment they got out of the car, they headed straight for the second floor. Lei Shaogong happened to be coming out of the room. Upon seeing Madam Murong, he quickly bowed, "Madam." Madam Murong waved her hand and went straight into the room with Jin Rui. Upon seeing the extent of his injuries, she could not help but feel anxious, angry, and distressed all at once. She shed tears while comforting her son, and it was quite a while before she came out.

Once she emerged and saw that Lei Shaogong was still there, she asked, "What could it possibly have been to warrant such a vicious beating on the child?" Lei Shaogong replied, "It was because of the Mang Lake matter, and the unauthorized bank overdraft, along with a few other minor issues that all happened to coincide at once." Madam Murong wiped the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief and said, "Is it worth all that over a bit of public business?!" She asked again, "How much money did the Third overdraw? What kind of places could he possibly spend money on that would require an overdraft?"

Lei Shaogong found the question difficult to answer. Before he could speak, Jin Rui said, "Mother, the Third is too playful. It’s good for Father to teach him a lesson, so he doesn't keep running wild and acting lawlessly." Madam Murong said, "Look at those wounds—they must have been caused by an iron implement." She shed tears again, "So heartless; it’s practically killing the child."

Jin Rui said, "Father was in a fit of rage; naturally, he just grabbed whatever was at hand to strike." She added, "Mom, you should go back to your room and rest. You must be tired after being in the car all afternoon." Madam Murong nodded, then said to Lei Shaogong, "Little Lei, look after the Third for me." With that, she left.

By dusk, it began to rain again. Outside the bedroom window stood an old pagoda tree, its canopy swaying like an umbrella in the hazy, drizzling gloom. Murong Qingyi woke up, drenched in a cold sweat. Seeing that the sky had darkened, he asked, "What time is it?" Lei Shaogong hurriedly walked over to answer, "It’s nearly seven o’clock. Are you hungry?" Murong Qingyi said, "I don’t want to eat anything." He then asked, "Where is Mother?"

Lei Shaogong replied, "The Madam is downstairs." He added, "This afternoon, when the Madam went to talk to the Master, the attendants all said that in all these years, it was the first time they had seen the Madam get angry with the Master."

Murong Qingyi said weakly, "She is distressed for me—my whole body hurts terribly. Go tell Mother for me that Father is still in a rage; it’s no use saying more, for fear that it might only make things worse."

Lei Shaogong said, "The Master says he wants to send you abroad. That is what the Madam is angry about."

Murong Qingyi gave a bitter smile and said, "I knew it. Father has made up his mind this time to break me."

Lei Shaogong said, "Perhaps the Master is only angry for the moment." Just as they were speaking, Madam Murong arrived. Lei Shaogong hurriedly stepped out. Seeing that his mother still had tear stains, Murong Qingyi called out, "Mom." This only made Madam Murong feel even worse. She took his hand and said, "I don’t know what’s gotten into your father—he insists on sending you abroad. How could I bear it?"

Hearing her say this, Murong Qingyi knew the matter was already irreversible, and his heart calmed down. "Going abroad is not necessarily a bad thing." Upon hearing this, Madam Murong nodded. "Your father’s intention is for you to go abroad and study for another two years. I have thought about it—I will apply to a good school for you. Learning something will always be useful." She paused for a moment and added, "Your father is also doing this for your own good. Although I do not agree with his methods, you are sometimes too willful. Once you are abroad, it won't be like being at home; it might be good to temper your character a little."

Murong Qingyi then said, "Father beat me half to death, yet you only felt sorry for a moment before you began lecturing me for him."

Madam Murong said, "Look at you, child. Do you think your father doesn't love you? If you’ve done something wrong, you should admit your mistake properly. Why provoke your father into such a fit of rage?"

Murong Qingyi knew that although she said this with her lips, her heart was still siding with him. With a smile, he changed the subject: "Which university does Mother want to apply to for me? Why don’t I go to Mother’s alma mater as well?" This finally made Madam Murong laugh. "You’ve only just started to feel less pain and you’re already being mischievous again. You know full well that my alma mater was a church school for girls.”

He spent several days nursing his injuries, but being young and having suffered no broken bones, he recovered quite quickly. By this day, he was already able to go downstairs. Having been cooped up for several days, even his steps felt light. However, when he walked down to the small living room, he stopped properly at the doorway. When Madam Murong looked up and saw him, she smiled and said, "Why don't you come over?" Murong Feng also raised his head, and upon seeing him, he merely frowned. Murong Qingyi had no choice but to walk closer and call out, "Father."

Murong Feng said, "I see that this frivolous habit of yours hasn't changed at all. It was a waste to place you in the military, hoping that discipline would correct you; it was of no use whatsoever." Fearing that he would lose his temper again, Madam Murong quickly said, "I have already spoken to the Third about going abroad, and he himself is willing to go and study."

Murong Feng let out a "hmpf" and said, "For these next few days, you are to stay at home and review your English. As for that bunch of yours, I have instructed Jin Yongren to make other arrangements. If you dare to go out and stir up trouble again, see if I don't break your legs!"

Seeing that Murong Qingyi was merely dejected, Madam Murong said to her husband, "Enough, the Third is already injured like this, surely he won't be going out?" She turned to Murong Qingyi and said, "Your father is doing this for your own good. Spend these few days calming your mind and reviewing your English; you will find it useful abroad."

Murong Qingyi had no choice but to agree. This was truly tantamount to house arrest, and since all his attendants had been reassigned, he remained at home every day, feeling only gloomy and unhappy. When his wounds had healed, Madam Murong personally sent him abroad to pursue his studies.

Autumn passed, winter arrived; winter departed, and spring returned. The years slipped away, and time flew like an arrow, never to return. The flowing, water-like days were just like hibiscus flowers—initially blooming in the bud, gradually becoming vibrant and beautiful, blossoming, withering, and blossoming again. In the blink of an eye, four years had passed.

It began to rain again. Outside the window, the sound of the rain was faint, making the autumn night feel even cooler, like water. In the dressing room, several girls were chatting and laughing, like a nest of young birds. Susu sat alone, tying the ribbons of her dance shoes. Mulan walked over to her and said, "Susu, my heart is in such a flutter." Susu gave a faint smile and said, "You are a big star now; are you still getting stage fright?" Mulan replied, "It's not stage fright. I just heard that the Madam is coming, and my heart has been pounding with anxiety." Hearing this, for some reason, Susu paused for a moment. Mulan kept on saying, "I heard Madam Murong is a great connoisseur of ballet; I am truly afraid of showing off in front of an expert." After a long while, Susu comforted her, "It doesn't matter. You dance so well and are so popular; that is why she has come to see you."

The stage manager had already searched her out. "Miss Fang, the makeup artist is waiting for you." Mulan smiled at Susu and went to her private dressing room. Susu lowered her head and continued to tie her ribbons, but her hands were trembling slightly. As she pulled the thin satin ribbons, it felt as though she were tightening an extremely taut string. It took a great effort to get the ribbons tied. The people in the dressing room had all gone up to the stage one after another, leaving her alone, hugging her knees where she sat. The sky gradually grew dark, and the sound of the rain outside the window became one burst after another. From afar, she could hear the music on the stage—the lingering and sorrowful "Butterfly Lovers," the "Farewell at the Pavilion." Yingtai’s heart, suddenly startled and suddenly joyous. The life in a play, though a tragedy, always has a moment of happiness. But in reality, even a moment of happiness is a luxury.

The rouge, face powder, eyebrow pencils, and lipstick on the dressing table were scattered in disarray. She looked at the mirror blankly. The reflection of herself was like a statue, motionless. Her feet had gone numb, but she did not feel it. At her temples, it felt as though two tiny needles were pricking her; with every prick, the blood vessels pulsed and jumped. She was only wearing a thin dance costume; she felt cold—a chilling sensation that made her feel as if all the blood in her body had frozen. She sat there, biting her lower lip until she drew blood, yet she could not think to find a garment to drape over herself.

Suddenly, a commotion came from the corridor outside. Someone entered, calling her name: "Susu!" Each call was more urgent than the last. She did not know how to respond until the person walked in and called again, and only then did she lift her head in a daze.

It was the frantic stage manager. "Susu, quickly! Mulan has twisted her ankle! You will dance the role of Zhu Yingtai for this final act."

She felt a buzzing sound, and the sky and earth began to spin. She heard her own small voice, "No."

The stage manager took a moment to say, "Are you crazy? You have played the understudy for so many years; such an opportunity, why won't you take it?"

She shrank back weakly, like a tired snail, "I can't—I stopped dancing for two years in the middle; I have never played the lead role."

The stage manager was furious, "You have always been Miss Fang's understudy. Saving the show is like saving a fire; there is only this last act left. If you don't dance, who will? What kind of airs are you putting on at a time like this?"

She was not putting on airs; her head felt like it was going to split open. She simply shook her head continuously, "I can't." The director and the teacher both came over, and all three of them tried to persuade her, but she only shook her head desperately. Watching as the time arrived, the stage manager and the director, without a word, pushed and pulled her, forcing her onto the stage. The large, red, gold-dusted curtain slowly rose. It was too late.

It was too late. The music filled the theater. She looked out with her eyes—a sea of black, suffocating. Almost out of mechanical instinct, she followed the music as her toes slid into the first rond de jambe. Years of practice had forged a muscle memory that required no thought—arabesques, fouetté, jeté... flowing and graceful. Beads of sweat on her forehead dampened her skin, and her arms stretched out like the light span of wings. The lights and the music were everything that filled heaven and earth; the only thoughts in her brain were mechanical movements. Time became a boundless ocean, and her spinning body was just a floating puppet. This act was only forty minutes, yet it felt more like forty years, four hundred years... It was nothing but agony. She felt like a fish, removed from the water, placed over a fire to roast slowly. Her skin tightened inch by inch; her breath grew more ragged by the minute, yet she could not struggle free, nor could she escape. The end was a distant, unreachable luxury. She remembered—remembered that terrifying nightmare—as if she were being torn apart all over again. Every time her taut toes touched the floor, it felt as though she were landing on knife points; one by one, slowly slicing her heart into pieces.

The final tremolo of the music faded. All around was silence. She could hear the sound of her own ragged breathing. She did not dare to look toward the stage. The lights were as scorching as the sun falling behind her, and beads of sweat were slowly dripping down.

Finally, applause erupted like thunder. She had actually forgotten to take a bow. She turned around in a rush, leaving Zhuang Chengzhi, who had played Liang Shanbo, hanging in the middle of the stage. The stage manager was standing by the side, his face white with anxiety. Only then did she remember; she turned back and bowed together with Zhuang Chengzhi.

After leaving the stage, everyone surrounded her like stars around the moon, praising her in a clamor, "Susu, you danced exceptionally well today." She was almost on the verge of collapsing, allowing people to drag her back to the dressing room. Someone handed her a towel, and she weakly covered her face with it. She had to get away—to get away from here. Someone in the sea of dark-clad audience members filled her with such terror that she felt nearly hopeless; she only wanted to run away.

The director walked over, excited. "The Madam is here."

The towel fell to the floor, and she slowly bent down to pick it up, but someone else was a step faster and picked it up for her. She slowly raised her head and stood up. Madam Murong was walking over, smiling. She heard her say to the person beside her, "Look at what a beautiful child she is. Her dancing is so beautiful, but the person herself is even more beautiful."

She gripped the corner of the dressing table tightly, as if she would collapse the moment she let go. Madam Murong took her hand and smiled, "She is truly lovable." The director stood by and introduced her, "Madam, her name is Ren Susu." As he spoke, he gave her a light push from behind.

Only then did she snap out of her daze and whisper, "Madam, hello."

Madam Murong nodded with a smile and went on to shake hands with the other performers. She stood there, feeling as though every ounce of strength had drained from her body. Finally, she summoned the courage to lift her eyes, and in the distance, she saw him standing there, still upright and elegant, like a jade tree in the wind. Her face turned snow-white in an instant. She had originally thought she would never see him again, that his world had long since drifted far away from her. When their paths crossed, he was still that dashing young gentleman, with every line of his clothing as crisp and straight as before.

She hurriedly retreated a step, an overwhelming, desperate fear sweeping over her like a tidal wave.

In the small dressing room, with so many people and the noisy hum of voices all around, she felt only a silence—a silence so profound it set her heart into a panic. Reporters were taking photographs, and people were bringing in fresh flowers. She could not catch her breath, as if she were suffocating. Her companions were chatting and laughing with excitement. Mulan came over, supported by others, and held her hand to speak with her, but she did not take in a single word. She kept her eyes lowered, her whole body wound tight. When people shook her hand, she extended hers; when they took pictures, she posed, like a hollowed-out marionette, nothing left but an empty skin, a walking corpse.

Madam Murong finally departed, followed by the large group of staff and reporters, and everything truly became quiet. The director wanted to host a late-night meal, and everyone was excitedly clamoring about where to go. She only said she was not feeling well and slipped out alone through the back door.

The rain was falling heavily. A chilly wind blew, and she shivered. An umbrella shielded her from the rain, and she looked with a blank expression at the person holding it—he said with polite courtesy, "Miss Ren, long time no see." She remembered his surname was Lei. She glanced at the car parked in the shadows across the street. Lei Shaogong only said, "Please, Miss Ren, get into the car and we shall talk." Privately, he was a bit worried; this Miss Ren looked delicate and timid, but her temperament was very stubborn, and he feared she would not be willing to meet Murong Qingyi. To his surprise, she only hesitated for a moment before walking toward the car. He hurriedly followed, stepping forward to open the door for her.

The entire journey was spent in silence. Lei Shaogong’s heart was filled with worry. Although Murong Qingyi was young and had had many girlfriends, he had never seen him like this. Even though four years had passed, the moment he saw her, his gaze remained as intense as ever. Miss Ren had become even more beautiful after four years apart—but this beauty vaguely caused one to feel a sense of unease.

The house at Duanshan had just been renovated, and everything was brand new and exquisite. Susu hesitated before getting out of the car. The living room was still laid out as it had been before. Lei Shaogong knew it was inappropriate for him to remain, so he closed the door behind them and stepped out. In the corridor, there was only a small lamp casting a dim, yellowish glow over the freshly poured concrete floor. Outside, there was the sound of the rain. Because they had accompanied Madam Murong to the event, they were wearing formal military uniforms, and the fabric was too thick; after pacing back and forth a few times, he already felt hot. He turned around again, feeling restless. He faintly heard Murong Qingyi call out to him: "Little Lei!"

He hurriedly answered and walked to the door of the living room, only to see Susu slumped over the armrest of the sofa, looking as if she were crying. Under the lamplight, Murong Qingyi’s face appeared snow-white. He had never seen him look like this before and was startled, quickly asking, "Third Young Master, what is wrong?" Murong Qingyi’s expression was complex, his gaze somewhat dull, as if he had encountered an enormous shock. Feeling even more alarmed, he reached out to grasp his hand. "Third Young Master, what happened? Your hand is so cold."

Murong Qingyi looked back at Susu once before walking out with him, all the way to the corridor. The lingering light from the chandelier in the living room slanted out, illuminating his face. His expression was still dazed; after a long while, he finally said, "Go do something for me."

Lei Shaogong replied, "Yes." When he did not hear what followed for a long time, he felt a bit worried and called out again, "Third Young Master?"

Murong Qingyi said, "You go—go find someone for me." He paused for a moment and added, "Handle this matter personally. Do not let anyone else know."

Lei Shaogong answered again, "Yes." Murong Qingyi paused once more, then said, "Go to the Shengci Orphanage and find a child born on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month. The child is three years old this year."

Lei Shaogong replied, "Yes." He then asked, "Third Young Master, what should I do once I have found the child?"

Upon hearing this question, Murong Qingyi seemed to be stunned. After a long while, he asked in return: "Once found—what should be done?"

Lei Shaogong vaguely felt that something was amiss, but he dared not make wild guesses. He heard Murong Qingyi say, "Report to me as soon as you find them. Go now." He had no choice but to answer repeatedly, then request a car and leave immediately.

Murong Qingyi returned to the living room and saw that Susu was still slumped there, motionless, her expression vacant. He reached out and slowly stroked her hair. She instinctively shrank back, but he would not allow it; he lifted her up. She struggled to push him away, but he pulled her forcefully into his arms. She continued to struggle, but in the end, she could not break free. She sobbed, and then she bit down hard into his arm. He did not let go. She bit down fiercely, as if she were using every bit of strength in her body. He remained motionless, letting her bite until blood flowed; he merely frowned and endured it. Finally, she let go, continuing only to cry. She cried until his lapels were soaked through, sticking coldly to him. He patted her back, but she stubbornly pressed against his chest, still sobbing.

It was not until she had cried herself to total exhaustion that she finally quieted down into a sob. Outside the window, there was the desolate sound of the rain, drop by drop, the sound on the eaves thin and fragmented, until dawn.

The sky was just beginning to brighten, and the rain still had not stopped. An attendant officer received a phone call and walked into the living room on tiptoe. Murong Qingyi was still sitting there, his eyes slightly bloodshot. Susu, however, had fallen asleep; he was holding her in one arm, half-leaning against the sofa. Seeing the attendant officer enter, he raised his eyebrows.

The attendant officer said softly, "Director Lei is on the phone, asking you to take the call."

Murong Qingyi nodded. As he moved slightly, he frowned—one side of his body had already gone numb and lost all sensation. The attendant officer noticed this and stepped forward to fetch a soft pillow for him. He took the pillow and placed it behind Susu’s neck, then stood up. His legs were so numb that it took a while for the blood to flow again before he could go to take the call.

Lei Shaogong was always steady, but this time, his voice carried a hint of agitation. "Third Young Master, the child has been found, but the child is very ill."

Murong Qingyi’s heart was in chaos. He asked, "Very ill—what exactly is the situation?"

Lei Shaogong said, "The doctor says it is encephalitis. The child cannot be moved right now. I am afraid the situation is not looking good. Third Young Master, what should we do?"

Murong Qingyi looked back, staring from the gap in the screen at Susu in the distance. He saw that she was still sleeping heavily; even in her sleep, her faint brows were slightly knitted, as if shrouded in a thin mist. His mind was a complete blank. He only said, "Take good care of the child, and call me at any time.”

He hung up the phone and paced back and forth in the corridor twice. Since returning to the country, he had held multiple posts, and the official business was complex and cumbersome; the attendant officer looked at his watch, feeling caught in a difficult position. Seeing his state, it seemed as if he had a matter that was hard to decide, and the officer dared not disturb him. But when the time ticked inexorably to seven o’clock, he had to bite the bullet and step forward to remind him: "Third Young Master, there is a meeting in Wuchi today."

Only then did he remember, his heart growing even more troubled. He said, "Call them and tell them I have a headache." The attendant officer had no choice but to agree and go. The kitchen brought up breakfast, but he felt he could not swallow a thing; he waved his hand, still having them take it away untouched. He walked into the study and picked up a book, but he did not turn a single page for a long time. He waited like this until past ten o’clock, when Lei Shaogong called again. After finishing the call, his head was cold and covered in sweat, and his heart felt empty and hollow. Walking back to the living room, he did not pay attention and tripped over a seam in the carpet, nearly falling; fortunately, the attendant officer rushed up to support him. Seeing his face ashen and his lips tightly pressed, the attendant officer was truly startled. He steadied himself, pushed away the attendant’s hand, and turned behind the screen. He saw Susu standing by the window, holding a teacup, but she had not taken a single sip; she was just biting the edge of the cup, staring blankly. Upon seeing him, she set the cup down and asked, "Has the child been found?"

He whispered, "No—they said he was adopted by someone, there is no address, and I fear it will be very hard to find him again."

She lowered her head, and the water in the cup rippled slightly. He said with difficulty, "Don’t cry."

Her voice grew lower, "I… I shouldn’t have sent him away… but I really… had no choice…" Finally, there was nothing left but a faint, weeping sound. His heart felt as though it were being twisted by a knife; he himself did not understand why it hurt so much. For over twenty years, his life had been one of immense success, where he could take whatever he desired. Only today did he suddenly realize that he was powerless—even powerless against her tears. Those tears were like a handful of salt, cruelly sprinkled onto a wound, tugging at a hidden, deep-seated pain in the furthest reaches of his heart.

Lei Shaogong did not rush back to Duanshan until dusk. As soon as he entered the main gate, the attendant officer greeted him, letting out a sigh of relief, "Director Lei, you are finally back. The Third Young Master said he has a headache and has not eaten all day. We asked whether we should call Dr. Cheng, but he lost his temper." Lei Shaogong grunted and asked, "Where is Miss Ren?"

"Miss Ren is upstairs, and the Third Young Master is in the study."

Lei Shaogong thought for a moment and went to the study to see Murong Qingyi. The sky had already darkened, but no lights had been turned on; he saw him sitting alone in the dark. He called out "Third Young Master" and said, "You must return to Shuangqiao; the meeting tonight is going to be late."

He still sat there without moving, and only when he saw him walk closer did he ask, "The child… what did he look like?"

Lei Shaogong could not make out his expression in the darkness. Hearing his voice hoarse, his own heart felt a wave of distress as he said, "The child was very well-behaved. By the time I arrived, he could no longer speak. In the end, he did not cry; he just looked like he was sleeping. The matron at the orphanage said the child had always been very obedient. After he fell ill, he did not cry or make a fuss, he just called out for 'Mama'."

Murong Qingyi murmured, "He… called for 'Mama'… did he not call for me?"

Lei Shaogong called out "Third Young Master" and said, "Although this matter is distressing, it is already in the past. Please do not grieve. If someone were to notice anything and it reached the Master’s ears, I fear it would be a heaven-reaching disaster."

Murong Qingyi was silent for a long time before saying, "You handled this matter very well." After a moment, he added, "In front of Miss Ren, do not let her know a single word of this. In case she asks, just say the child was not found and that someone else adopted him."

He returned to the bedroom upstairs to change his clothes; Susu had already fallen asleep. The food the kitchen had sent up had barely been touched, still sitting on the dining table. She was curled up in the corner of the bed like an infant, her hand still clutching the corner of the quilt. Her long eyelashes, like butterfly wings, fluttered slightly with her breath. He felt as if this flutter reached the very depths of one's heart, causing him pain.

Susu did not wake up until morning, and the weather had cleared. The curtains had not been drawn, and sunlight streamed through the long windows, carrying countless swirling, golden motes of dust, like a beam of light on a stage. It was rare to have such beautiful weather in autumn. Outside the window, one could only hear the wind blowing through the already brittle leaves—a faint rustling sound, the voice of autumn in the high, clear sky. There was a faint scent of lily incense on the quilt, mixed with a trace of thin, minty tobacco. The smooth satin surface was still cool against her cheek. She lay in a daze, seeing the gorgeous ivory-white voile curtains hanging on both sides of the carved long windows, swaying gently in the wind, and only then did she remember where she was.

The room was quiet. She washed her face and loosely tied up her hair. Pushing open the bedroom door, the corridor was also quiet. She walked all the way downstairs before seeing an attendant, who said politely, "Miss Ren, good morning." She replied with a "Good morning," and as she turned her face to see the mantel clock, it was already nearly nine o’clock. She could not help but gasp, "Oh no." The attendant officers were very adept at observing others, so he asked, "Is Miss Ren in a hurry?"

She said, "I have a training session this morning, and this place is so far from the city center…" Her voice trailed off. She had not expected that after such total physical and mental exhaustion, she would sleep so deeply and wake up so late. She only heard the attendant say, "It’s no matter. I will go call them to bring the car around to take Miss Ren to the city center." Before she could say anything, he went out to request the car. Susu was only worried about being too late, but fortunately, the car was extremely fast, and it took no more than thirty minutes to get her to her destination.

She changed into her dance clothes and shoes and walked to the practice hall. The others were all practicing with focus, and only Zhuang Chengzhi noticed her quietly entering; he glanced at her but said nothing. At noon, everyone followed the usual routine of dining together at a small restaurant, laughing and chattering as they ate hotpot, busily picking up food. She did not have much of an appetite, however, and just ate a little to fit in. After finishing, she walked out and saw a shiny black Chevrolet parked across the street. Someone in the car window was waving at her, "Susu!" It was Mulan.

She walked over happily and asked, "Is your foot feeling better?" Mulan smiled and said, "Much better." She added, "I have nothing to do, so I came to find you for coffee."

They went to the café they frequented. Mulan liked the ice cream there. Susu usually did not love Western food, nor did she like sweets, but it was awkward to just sit there, so she ordered a chestnut cake. She only held the small silver spoon, and it took a long while before she dug out a tiny piece, putting it in her mouth and sipping it delicately. Mulan asked, "Where did you go yesterday? I looked everywhere for you and couldn’t find you." Susu did not know how to explain, so she just sighed slightly. Mulan said with a smile, "Someone asked me to invite you to dinner—the Mr. Zhang we met at the jewelry store last time." Susu said, "You know I am the worst at socializing." Mulan laughed, "I said it wouldn't work, but the director begged me a thousand times, insisting I come and tell you." She added, "This Mr. Zhang wants to sponsor our production of 'Giselle.' The director is blinded by greed; you should just ignore it."

Susu was eating her cake slowly, while Mulan said, "I don't want to dance anymore—and I can't dance anymore. After so many years, I actually feel a bit reluctant." Susu asked in astonishment, "If you stop dancing, how can that be? The director is counting on you." Mulan said with a smile, "You danced so well the night before last; the director is counting on you now."

Susu put down her small spoon and asked, "Mulan, are you angry with me?”

Mulan shook her head. "You are my best friend. I hope for nothing more than to see you become a star. Why would I be angry with you? It’s just that after all these years, I feel so weary—so filled with the dust of the road. I truly don't want to dance anymore; I want to go home and get married."

Hearing her say this, Susu was both surprised and happy, and she quickly asked, "Is that true? Has Young Master Xu’s family given their consent? Then I must congratulate you."

Mulan smiled again, though a hint of worry clouded her face. "They are still unwilling, but regarding Changning, I have some degree of certainty." She picked up her coffee and drank it in one gulp. Setting down the cup, she said, "Let’s not talk about these unpleasant matters. Let’s go browse the department store."

Susu spent half the day browsing the department store with her; by the end, both their feet felt sore and weak. Mulan had bought quite a few new clothes and shoes, long boxes and square ones, all in paper bags and cartons, which were tossed into the backseat of the car. Suddenly, Mulan remembered, "There’s a newly opened restaurant that’s top-tier and very expensive. Let me treat you." Susu knew Mulan was troubled, but this sort of helpless situation was not something that could be easily comforted, so she simply went along with it. As they stepped out of the car at the restaurant entrance, Susu felt the car parked on the side of the road looked somewhat familiar. Before she could recall where she had seen it, they walked inside—only to bump straight into Lei Shaogong coming down from the floor above. He looked slightly surprised upon seeing her and called out, "Miss Ren."

Mulan was also surprised to see him and could not help but glance at Susu. She heard him say, "The Third Young Master is inside—he’s been having people look everywhere for Miss Ren." Susu had not expected him to say such a thing, and her mind was filled with bewilderment. Lei Shaogong led them inside. When the waiter pushed open the door to the private room, it turned out to be an incredibly large suite. Seeing her, Murong Qingyi set aside the people he was with and stood up. "Oh, they found you?" He added, "I was in meetings until very late last night, so I didn’t go back. In the future, don’t run around aimlessly. It took them an entire afternoon to find you."

The people at the table had never heard him explain his whereabouts to a woman before, and they were all taken aback. After a long moment, someone behind them laughed, "Third Young Master, we can all testify for you that you were indeed at Shuangqiao in meetings last night and didn't go anywhere else." Everyone burst into laughter, joking and making light of the situation. Someone else chimed in, "It’s a good thing we spoke up for the Third Young Master; this 'Hongmen Banquet' will surely turn into a joyous celebration now." Susu did not expect them to misunderstand like this; her face flushed red, and she lowered her head. Murong Qingyi turned back and laughed, "Stop your nonsense. You really have no respect for your elders." He then took her hand, led her to the table, and introduced her to the people there one by one. Because they were all respected seniors, he said to her, "Greet them. This is Uncle Yu, this is Uncle Li, this is Uncle Wang, and this is Uncle Guan." His tone was that of someone treating her like a child, which prompted all four men to stand up in unison, saying repeatedly, "You're too kind." Although he had many girlfriends, he had never introduced any of them in public like this. When they met by chance, it was always tacitly understood. For a moment, the four men were left filled with shock and uncertainty. Murong Qingyi, however, paid them no mind. Susu was already a woman of few words; in front of strangers, she had even less to say. Mulan, who was usually a lover of liveliness, remained silent as well. At the table, one could only hear the men laughing and talking about things that Susu did not understand.

When they finished their meal and walked out, Murong Qingyi, having been raised with purely Western etiquette, took Susu’s handbag for her, only to hand it off to an attendant. He asked, "You said you were going to the department store; what did you buy?"

Susu said, "I was just accompanying Mulan. I didn't buy anything." Murong Qingyi smiled and said, "Next time you go out, tell Little Lei so he can arrange for a car to take you. If you want to buy something, several of the foreign firms have my account—just say the word and have them charge it." Susu lowered her head and remained silent. Mulan, being a very perceptive person, saw they were having a private conversation and made an excuse to leave first.

Susu followed him downstairs. When they reached the car, she hesitated. Seeing the attendant open the door, she finally gathered her courage. "I need to go back." Murong Qingyi said, "We are going back right now." He naturally draped his arm around her waist. She felt a flurry of panic and breathlessness; she dared not utter a single word and had no choice but to get into the car.

Even inside the car, he did not release her. She stared at the scenery rapidly retreating outside the window, her mind in chaos. A thousand thoughts raced through her head, but she felt she could grasp none of them; everything was so vague and complex it frightened her. He had always made her feel afraid—from the beginning until now, a fear that was groundless yet deeply rooted.

Returning to Duanshan, he went to the study to handle official business, leaving her with no choice but to go back upstairs. The bedside lamp was covered with an ivory-white, cicada-wing gauze shade; the light was milky, casting a sweet, honey-like languor upon the walls. Tonight, there was a beautiful moon rising slowly between the silhouettes of the trees in the east. She looked at the moon, which was as round as a copper mirror, though the moonlight appeared as hazy as if seen through gauze. Both the lamplight and the moonlight were mistily infused into the room, stretching out like mercury that seeped into everything, pouring out to occupy the space. In that haze, she fell asleep.

The moonlight remained just as beautiful, faintly printing itself on the head of the bed. She turned over in her sleep and was suddenly startled awake. In the darkness, she felt him reach out and gently caress her cheek. Her face immediately turned searing hot, as if it were on fire, and she subconsciously shrank backward. He, however, seized her shoulder, refusing to let her dodge away. The temperature of his lips was scorching and intense. She instinctively wanted to resist, but he tyrannically occupied her breath, the force of his lips leaving her nearly breathless. She reached out to push him away, but his hand moved through her loose clothing, intent on removing the barriers between them. Her body went limp, and he tightened his arm around her, calling out in a low voice, "Susu."

The breeze stirred the voile curtains, as if creating ripples on the surface of a spring.

By dusk, a wind had picked up. Winters in Wuchi were not exactly frigid, but the northern wind that blew in was, in the end, somewhat piercing. As everyone suddenly stepped out of the heated room and was met by the gusting wind, they could not help but shudder. Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps from leather shoes echoed down the corridor: ta-ta-ta. Murong Qingyi could not help but smile. Just as expected, the person appearing had a beaming face; having walked so fast, her porcelain-white face was flushed with a rosy hue. He deliberately slowed down and said, "Weiyi, why do you not look like a girl? If Mother saw you like this later..." Weiyi tilted her head up and laughed, "Third Brother, don't play the hypocrite here. Is your meeting over?"

Murong Qingyi said, "It wasn’t a formal meeting. Father just remembered a few things and asked us to come and inquire." Weiyi said, "I heard you received another promotion recently. Treat me to a meal today." Those nearby were very familiar with them, and one person shouted, "Fourth Miss, don't let the Third Young Master off easily. Make him pay for a grand feast!" Weiyi had spent years studying abroad and was the youngest child in the family, so the whole family doted on her. Murong Qingyi loved this younger sister the most and, hearing her, only smiled. "Who doesn't know your little schemes? If you have something to say, just say it." Weiyi made a face and said, "Third Brother, you’re becoming more and more formidable. You’re simply becoming 'in the middle' of everything, and 'outside' of everything else." As the siblings spoke, the people nearby had things to attend to and scattered away one by one. Only then did Weiyi say, "Today is Minxian’s birthday." Murong Qingyi laughed, "I really have things to do today. Father just gave me instructions. You go eat yourselves and put it on my tab later." Weiyi tugged on his sleeve and said, "What kind of answer is that?" Her large eyes rolled around restlessly. "Could it be that the rumors outside are true?"

Murong Qingyi said, "Don’t listen to people’s nonsense. What rumors outside?"

Weiyi said, "They say you’ve become obsessed with a dance girl, and that she is incredibly beautiful."

Murong Qingyi said, "Nonsense. If you take people's prattle seriously, just wait until it reaches Father's ears—then I will hold only you accountable."

Weiyi pointed a finger at him. "That’s what they call 'not here is three hundred taels of silver.' Are you willing to go today or not? If you don't go, I will tell Mother about you."

Murong Qingyi said, "Stop trying to stir up trouble here. Why must you insist on speaking for Minxian?"

Weiyi let out an "Oh?" and said, "At dinner last time, I thought you two were acting very strange. You must have had an argument, so I am just kindly trying to help you."

Murong Qingyi said, "Well, thank you very much, but stay out of my affairs with Minxian."

Weiyi said, "Judging by that tone, I know it’s your fault. Mother was right—you need to suffer a loss once before you realize the power of women."

Murong Qingyi said, "Look at you. Is that something a young unmarried lady should be saying?"

Weiyi curved the corner of her mouth, and she actually laughed. "You look just like Father right now. You are like the officials who burn down houses and forbid the common people from lighting lamps."

Murong Qingyi said, "You are becoming more and more insolent." He turned to walk away, and Weiyi asked, "Are you really not going?"

He only replied, "I have official business.”

He indeed had official business. Later that evening, he had to attend a meal that was half-public duty, half-private social engagement. There were seven or eight people at the table, all capable of holding their liquor. The wine was Huadiao, which had a lingering, potent kick. The effects of the alcohol had long since risen to his face; he felt flushed, red-faced, and stiflingly hot. On the way home, he rolled down the car window to catch the breeze, but it didn't make him feel any better. As soon as he got out of the car at home, he saw a familiar vehicle parked there. Turning his head, he caught sight of Lei Shaogong and raised his eyebrows. Lei Shaogong understood immediately and signaled to the attendants, who all quietly slipped away. Murong Qingyi walked in alone through the back door of the veranda, tiptoeing past the small living room. Just his luck, Madam Murong spotted him and called out, "Third Son." He had no choice but to walk inside, smiling, "Mom, it's certainly lively tonight."

It was indeed lively—a room full of female guests. The moment they saw him enter, the room fell silent. Amid the crowd, he felt a pair of eyes staring at him, filled with a mixture of reproach and resentment. After paying his respects to Madam Murong, he deliberately turned his face away to talk to Jin Rui: "Eldest Sister, this new qipao of yours is truly beautiful." Jin Rui pursed her lips and said, "Don't think you can joke your way out of today's business. How do you intend to make amends to our birthday girl?"

Murong Qingyi felt the alcohol surging and was overcome with a desperate need to sleep. Yet, faced with the situation, he had to suppress his impatience and say, "It is my fault. I will invite Miss Kang to dinner another day to apologize." The moment the words "Miss Kang" left his lips, Kang Minxian’s expression shifted instantly. Sensing trouble, Jin Rui quickly interjected, "Third Son is truly muddled by drink. Go upstairs and rest for a moment; I’ll have the kitchen send up some hangover soup." Murong Qingyi was hoping for just that; seeing an exit, he naturally took it. "Mother, Eldest Sister, I will excuse myself first."

Seeing him stride away as if no one were there, Kang Minxian endured and endured, her tears nearly spilling over. Fortunately, she was a woman of great composure and immediately began chatting with Jin Rui as if nothing had happened. It was only after all the female guests had left that she accompanied Madam Murong for a while longer before taking her leave. Once she was gone, Jin Rui let out a sigh. Weiyi, being the most outspoken and unreserved due to her youth, said, "Third Brother’s callousness is truly disheartening." Her remark made Madam Murong laugh, "Why are you taking up the cudgels for her here?" She paused, then added, "Minxian is a very sensible child; it’s a pity Third Son has always been so indifferent toward her." Jin Rui noted, "Third Son’s flaws are entirely of your spoiling."

Madam Murong replied, "These are minor matters; as long as he isn’t muddled about the big things, it will suffice." Her voice dropped low. "I dare not pressure him on this matter for fear it will end like it did with Qingyu." Mentioning her eldest son caused her eyes to redden immediately. Weiyi felt a pang of sorrow, and Jin Rui said, "Mother, why bring that up for no reason?" Madam Murong’s eyes shimmered with tears as she sighed softly: "Though your father hasn't said it out loud, he regrets it. If it hadn’t been for... how could the accident have happened?" Her voice was slightly choked as she finished the sentence. Jin Rui’s own eyes turned red, but she did her best to console her: "Mother, it was an accident; please don’t blame yourself anymore." Madam Murong said, "I feel distressed whenever I think of it. Yesterday, when your father went to Liangguan and returned, he locked himself in the study for a long time—I’m afraid he is suffering even more than I am. I can hide away, avoiding looking or thinking, but he has to attend the flight exercises every year."

Jin Rui forced a smile: "Weiyi, it’s all your fault for making Mother sad." Weiyi took her mother’s hand and said, "Mom, don’t be sad. If you think about it, it’s all Third Brother’s fault. Let’s punish him tomorrow by making him water all your flowers." Jin Rui added, "That’s a good punishment. I’m afraid he won’t finish even if he waters them until dark." Weiyi said, "That would be perfect! Who told him to be away from home all day, so busy he’s rarely seen? It’s only right that he spend a day accompanying Mother." Jin Rui countered, "You’re counting on him to keep Mother company? Forget it. He’ll get one phone call and disappear without a trace again." The two of them went back and forth, simply trying to distract her. Madam Murong said, "I’ll go upstairs to check on Third Son; I feel he was truly drunk today." She walked up to her son’s bedroom, just as Murong Qingyi was emerging from a shower. Madam Murong said, "Why go to sleep without drying your hair? You’ll catch a cold and get a headache." Murong Qingyi said, "I’m not a child anymore." He added, "Mother, Minxian and I truly have no destiny together. Please tell Eldest Sister not to try to deliberately bring us together like she did today." Madam Murong said, "I thought you two always got along well, and ever since you returned to the country, you were always playing together. Why say this now? Your father likes that child quite a bit; he says she is very proper." Murong Qingyi yawned and said, "Father likes her—Mother, you should be careful."

Madam Murong scolded him lightly: "How can you speak so disrespectfully, child?"

Murong Qingyi said, "In any case, I don't like her."

The remark made Madam Murong frown. After a long while, she asked, "Do you have someone else in your heart?" There was no answer for a long time; she heard only his rhythmic breathing. He had already fallen asleep. Madam Murong smiled gently, tucked the quilt around him, and walked out.

Because it was the slow season at the end of the year, the troupe had stopped performing, but the four training sessions per week continued as usual. There was no heating in the practice hall, but once they started dancing, everyone was drenched in sweat, so they didn't feel the cold. Mulan had not trained since her foot injury, but this afternoon, she changed into her dance clothes and shoes and practiced for three hours, also working up a sweat. The time was nearly up, so she sat in the corner wiping her sweat with a towel while watching Susu practice.

Susu seemed somewhat distracted, her movements a bit stiff. After a while, she stopped practicing altogether and walked over to drink water and wipe her brow. Even the beads of sweat on her beautiful, lotus-like face looked crystal clear. Seeing the others were far away, Mulan whispered, "What is the matter with you?"

Susu shook her head and said nothing, but Mulan knew the reason and asked pointedly, "Are you and the Third Young Master having a spat?"

Susu said softly, "How could I possibly have a spat with him?" Hearing this, Mulan guessed seven or eight-tenths of the truth. She said, "I heard from Changning that the Third Young Master has a difficult temper. Given his status, that is naturally unavoidable." Susu stayed silent, and Mulan added, "I haven't seen him at all these past few days; he must be busy."

Susu finally said, "I don’t know." Hearing this, Mulan concluded that the two were indeed at odds. She sighed softly and said, "There is something I don't know whether I should tell you." She paused, then said, "I must advise you not to take this too seriously. I heard he has a girlfriend with whom he has an excellent relationship—General Kang’s sixth daughter. I fear the two of them will be engaged before the year is out."

Susu heard this but remained silent. Mulan continued, "I can see the Third Young Master is sincere toward you, but what kind of family is the Murong family? Over the past few years, I’ve seen enough of the world’s warmth and coldness. The Xu family only gained power in the last decade, yet their noses are held higher than the heavens. Changning treats me this way, yet he still can't mention marriage—let alone the Third Young Master."

Susu still did not speak. Mulan sighed again, patted her back gently, and asked, "Today is your birthday; I really shouldn't be saying these things. Let me treat you to dinner later?"

Susu shook her head and said, "My aunt wants me to go over for dinner." Mulan said, "You agreed to that? You really shouldn't go; you’ll only come back feeling aggrieved." Susu said, "No matter what, she is the one who raised me. If it’s just money she wants, I will just give her my salary for these past two months."

Mulan said, "I won't concern myself with you anymore; you won't listen anyway."

Susu changed her clothes and went to her uncle's house. The road was very long, and the rickshaw moved slowly; it was already dark by the time she arrived. She got off in front of the grocery store. Her cousin, Yinxing, was tending the shop; seeing her, Yinxing turned and called into the house: "Mom, Susu is here." Her aunt was the same as ever, dressed in a blue, floral-patterned, padded cotton jacket that only made her look fatter. When she saw Susu, her face broke into a smile, "Susu, come in and sit. Last year you turned twenty, and I didn't hold a birthday for you; I’ll make it up to you this year." She added, "Yinxing, pour your cousin some tea and keep her company; I have two more dishes to stir-fry and then we’ll eat."

Yinxing poured her a cup of tea and asked conversationally, "This outfit of yours is new, isn't it? The color of this fabric is truly beautiful. You bought it at the foreign department store, right?" She continued, "I saw it with A-Yu from next door at the department store last time; it was eighty dollars a foot." Susu replied, "Mulan gave it to me last year; I didn't know it was so expensive." Yinxing then asked, "Miss Fang is so generous; she must be someone's mistress, right?" Hearing this, Susu felt a surge of anger and did not answer. Yinxing added, "Being pretty certainly has its benefits. Catching the eye of a rich man—being a mistress might sound ugly, but getting the money is what’s real.”

Susu was angry, but just then her aunt came out. "Dinner is served." She took Susu’s hand and ushered her into the house with great solicitude, saying, "Look at you, child; you’ve grown so thin you're nothing but skin and bones. Come over more often when you have time, and let your aunt help you build your strength back up." She then added, "Jinxiang, call your brother and sister for dinner." Jinxiang answered from the inner room, and two half-grown children rushed out like a gust of wind, noisily crowding around the table. Jinxiang finally walked out, but upon seeing Susu, she didn’t even bother to look her in the eye. Her aunt said, "Why haven’t you greeted your cousin?" Both children called out, "Cousin," as they reached for their chopsticks. They were wearing the same old cotton jackets handed down from their older sisters, the fabric at the cuffs worn thin to reveal the cotton padding inside. Susu felt a pang of heartache; she remembered when she was their age, she too wore old clothes—the eldest, Jinxiang, would wear them first, then they would be passed to Yinxing, and only then would it be her turn. After a few years, the cotton inside had long since matted into hard lumps. Back then, after dancing and working up a sweat, having the wind blow through those thin layers in such weather would freeze a person right to the bone.

The youngest child, Dongwen, mumbled while shoveling food into his mouth, "Mom, the school says we have to pay exam fees." Her aunt said, "Why do we have to pay money again? Where am I supposed to get the money?" She then began to curse, "Even this damned school bullies us poor widows and orphans!" Susu put down her chopsticks, took out her handbag, and retrieved the stack of money inside. She handed it to her aunt and said, "It’s almost the New Year; please use this to get the children some new clothes." Her aunt’s eyebrows practically flew off her face with joy. "How can I take your money again?" she said, though her hand was already reaching out to take it. She then asked, "I heard you’ve become famous for your dancing lately. Did you get a raise?"

Susu said, "The troupe added a bit more based on my performances." Her aunt heaped food onto Susu’s plate and continued, "It’s good that you’re famous. Once you’re a star, you’ll meet more people and marry into a good family. You’re twenty-one this year; you can’t dance forever. A girl still needs to get married." Jinxiang had been silent the whole time, but now she spoke up with a sneer, "Mom, why are you worrying for nothing? With Susu’s great beauty, who knows how many wealthy young masters are lining up for her." She paused, then added, "But she better be careful and make sure no one uncovers the secret of her illegitimate child!" Before the words had even left her lips, her aunt had already scolded, "Jinxiang! Say that again and I’ll slap you across the face!" Seeing Susu’s face turn deathly pale, her aunt comforted her, "Good child, don't listen to Jinxiang’s nonsense. She speaks without thinking."

The meal was, in the end, difficult to swallow. When she left her uncle’s house, the night was already deep. The rickshaw her aunt had called for her was managed with a show of hospitality that felt different from before, as she was repeatedly urged, "Come back for dinner when you have time."

The rickshaw moved through the cold night, where even the light from the streetlamps felt frigid. Her heart wasn't necessarily sad, but she felt a recurring sense of agitation. Her fingertips were ice-cold as she clutched the beads on her handbag; the sharp edges of the rhinestones pricked her skin, causing a dull, stinging pain.

When she reached her front door, she was startled to see Lei Shaogong. He was as polite as ever as he said, "Miss Ren, the Third Young Master sent me to pick you up."

She thought that the last time they had seen each other, it could be considered a quarrel. Even though she hadn't said a word, he had flown into such a rage. She had assumed he would never want to see her again. After a moment’s thought, she got into the car.

The heating in Duanshan was very warm, and the glass windows of the room were clouded with condensation, a misty fog that blocked the view of the outside world. He was pacing the living room with his hands behind his back. Upon seeing her, he frowned and asked, "Where have you been? The dance troupe said you went home at four o'clock." She hesitated and said, "I went to a friend's house." He asked, "What friend? I called Changning, and Mulan is with him."

She lowered her head and remained silent. He asked, "Why aren't you speaking?" Her heart felt empty, and she subconsciously turned her face away. He said, "Why did you refuse when I told you to resign from the dance troupe last time?" It was precisely because of this issue that he had lost his temper and stormed off before; yet, here he was today, asking her the same thing again. After a long pause, she finally replied, "I need to work." He pressed her, "You have everything you could possibly want right now; why do you still need to work?"

"Everything you could possibly want"—she thought vaguely, what did that even mean? She had long since been left with nothing, and even the last vestige of her self-respect had been trampled into the dust by him.

Lei Shaogong happened to walk in at that moment and said with a smile, "Third Young Master, shall I light the candles?" He uncovered a paper box on the coffee table; it was a cake. She was startled, looking at him with a mix of surprise and confusion. He said, "You, get out." Lei Shaogong had no choice but to put down his lighter, cast one glance at her, and walk out, closing the door behind him.

She stood there motionless, but he picked up the cake box and hurled it to the floor. The cherries decorating the cake tumbled onto the carpet, bright red like coral beads from a broken string. She stepped back a pace and said in a low voice, "I didn't know that you knew it was my birthday today." He let out a cold laugh, "It seems that in your heart, I have no reason to even know your birthday." She lowered her voice, lower and lower, "You have no reason to know." He asked, "What do you mean by that?" She remained silent, but this silence infuriated him. "What is this supposed to mean? Haven't I treated you well enough?"

Well? His standard of "well" was merely to raise her like a canary—giving her money, sending her jewelry, letting her charge accounts at foreign stores. He was buying, and she was selling her dignity; what was "well" about that? A tragic smile surfaced on her lips. How was this any different from selling herself at the door? If she hadn't accidentally given birth to a child, she probably wouldn't even have the qualifications to sell herself to him. He did treat her differently, but was she supposed to be tearfully grateful for this "special treatment"?

Seeing the expression in her eyes, he felt a wave of inexplicable agitation. He said coldly, "What else do you want?"

What else did she want? Her heart weary and disillusioned, she lowered her head and said, "I don't want anything." He said, "You don't want anything—stop trying to spite me." She said, "I am not trying to spite you." He grabbed her wrist. "You are saying one thing while meaning another. What on earth do you want? Is there something I haven't done to satisfy you?"

She said softly, "I am satisfied with everything." Her voice, however, was fleeting and weak. His grip tightened. "Don't play these games with me. If you have something to say, just say it." Her gaze fell into the distance, onto the window behind him. The condensation was running down the glass in trickles. Her life was already completely ruined; tomorrow would be no different from today, and it didn't matter how well he treated her. Yet, he wouldn't let her go, continuing to press her, "What else do you want?"

The faint, tragic smile still hung on the corner of her lips. "What qualifications do I have to make demands?" This sentence finally infuriated him. "I give to you—if you want a house, a car, or money, I give it all to you."

She shook her head gently. He stared aggressively into her eyes. "Look at me. Anything—you only have to ask, and I will give it to you immediately." If only—if only she wouldn't smile like that, if only she wouldn't look at him like that. That smile was as haunting as a nightmare, stirring up that familiar, deep pain in his heart once again.

She was suffocated by his pressure; his gaze was like a sword, piercing straight into her body. She steeled herself, closed her eyes, and said in a tiny voice, barely audible, "Then, I want to get married." A lump formed in her throat, almost choking her. Since he was forcing her this way, she only wanted him to leave her—but he wouldn't. She had no choice but to say it. Surely, an intention like this would finally be enough to make him back away.

Sure enough, he let go of her and stepped back. His expression was ghastly; he said, "You want me to marry you?"

She was almost paralyzed with fear, but she didn't know where the courage came from; she still nodded her head gently. What would he say? Would he curse her for her wishful thinking, give her a sum of money to send her away, or fly into another rage? No matter what, she would get what she asked for.

His face was ashen; she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Yet, she knew he was angry because his whole body was rigid. She finally began to feel a bit of fear because the look in his eyes actually seemed like sorrow—she couldn't be sure, but his appearance frightened her, and her heart was a mess. A long-term pain is worse than a short one. She had already said the most terrifying thing she could; there was nothing left to lose. She said, "This is the only thing I want. If you cannot give it, then there is nothing left for us to talk about."

His breathing grew heavy, and finally, he exploded. He reached out, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shoved her away with all his might. "Get out!" She stumbled backward, her knee hitting the sofa, the pain so sharp it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She grabbed her handbag, turned, and fled. All she could hear was him calling for his adjutant from inside the room.