The Lament of Autumn - Extra Chapter

Extra Chapter: Dreaming of Rouge and the Lingering Fragrance, Life Remains a Long Regret Flowing Eastward

Toward dusk, the sunset clouds spread across half the horizon.

Xie Fanshu, treading in her exquisite painted wooden clogs, stood before a large carved mirror trying on a white dress. She then earnestly wrapped a silk scarf adorned with orchid patterns around her neck. She had always favored Western-style dresses and detested qipaos, feeling that such garments bound people up as if they were being trussed. Chongye would laugh at her, "Little sister, you should try the whalebone corsets European women use to cinch their waists; that is what you call being bound—it would cinch your waist into two pieces!"

She retorted indignantly, "Chongye, you are truly hateful! Do you want me to be like those students from Hong Kong University, tying their pant legs tight and dressing up like Sai Jinhua?"

She had loved to talk back to her brother, Chongye, since she was a child, but Chongye never grew angry with her.

When Madame Xie walked in, she was carrying a stack of clothes—all finely crafted qipaos and skirts. She dumped them all onto the fine nanmu copper-inlaid bed, sitting down on a chair to the side, and smiled at her daughter: "Look at these that I bought. Take whichever one you can use, pick for yourself."

Fanshu only glanced at the bed before immediately furrowing her brows. "Mother, our school play doesn't need such gaudy clothes. I am playing a poor female student; I cannot use any of these."

Madame Xie laughed, "Then how do you intend to dress?"

Fanshu pouted, "Besides, you and Father have to accompany Grandfather and won't have time to see our rehearsed play anyway, so why ask? I’m not telling you." Madame Xie smiled, "Fine, stop nitpicking. You know clearly that your father and Chongye have been angry with each other these past few days, and the house is far from peaceful. Do you really need to stir the pot further?"

Fanshu then said, "Father is the same way. If Brother wants to enter the Nanpu Military Academy, let him enter. Why must he control him so strictly? Boys should join the army and temper some heroic spirit."

Madame Xie paused for a moment, then smiled slightly, "Your father naturally has your father's reasons."

Fanshu curled her lip, looking quite unconvinced, "Anyway, you adults always have your reasons. If I were Brother, I wouldn't care if you liked it or not; I would happily do exactly what I wanted!"

The next afternoon, the auditorium of Mingde Girls' School officially staged the play Song of Everlasting Regret, which the students had meticulously rehearsed for a long time. The script was written by the school's new national literature teacher, Liang Qiu'er. While applying makeup behind the stage, Xie Fanshu, playing the lead, carefully familiarized herself with the script once more. Suddenly, she looked up and said with a smile to her best friend, Yu Xinping, "Xinping, how can there be such a tragic story in this world?"

A devout Christian, Yu Xinping was busy with her hands clasped in prayer. She was a pale, slender girl who sat unnoticed, yet who in all of Jinling did not know that the Commander-in-Chief of the Yu Army, Yu Changxuan, controlled the Jinling government cabinet and held power over the entire country? Yu Xinping was Yu Changxuan’s only daughter and was naturally treated like a precious, gilded treasure, accompanied by an immense entourage wherever she went. Usually, in school, almost no one dared to interact with Yu Xinping, much like in the old Qing court—who would dare to joke and play with a high-and-mighty princess?

But Xie Fanshu got along exceptionally well with Yu Xinping, and the two were inseparable at school. Fanshu had once affectionately invited Xinping to be a guest at her home, but Xinping always shook her head. Of course, she never invited Fanshu to play at the Yu family residence either. Yu Xinping’s nature was extremely solitary, and the only reason she was willing to act in this play was because of Fanshu’s encouragement.

Yu Xinping smiled but didn't say anything.

Fanshu looked toward the screenwriter, Liang Qiu'er, who smiled, "There always is; it’s just that children of seventeen or eighteen like you don't know it yet."

Just as it was time to go on stage, a commotion suddenly erupted backstage. Someone said, "What? The Commander-in-Chief is here? Has he already taken his seat?" Teachers were specifically warning, "Don't run around at a time like this. There are sentries everywhere outside; be careful they mistake you for a revolutionary." As the chaos unfolded, the noisy voices were suddenly stifled, as if choked by a hand. In the blink of an eye, it was deathly silent as several soldiers in uniform walked in. The one in the lead was none other than He Junshen, the Chief of the Attendant Office of the Yu residence.

The makeup room fell into instant silence. The young students retreated to the side, and He Junshen walked straight up to Yu Xinping, respectfully saying, "Miss Xinping, the Commander-in-Chief just heard that you were participating in the school play and is very concerned, so he came specially to take a look."

Yu Xinping dropped her docile act in front of Fanshu, looking truly like a cold princess now, and said coolly, "I am only playing a minor role; there is no need for Father to go to such lengths. Please tell Uncle He to inform Father to return. He has always been very opposed to me coming to school!"

He Junshen smiled, "Miss, you are speaking in anger again. Miss is the Commander-in-Chief’s apple of his eye; how could he not be concerned?"

Yu Xinping said expressionlessly, "In that case, tell Father that I don't appear until the second half, so let him wait."

He Junshen replied with a "Yes" and led the guards out. Fanshu glanced quietly toward Yu Xinping’s direction, and Yu Xinping happened to be looking at her too. Fanshu smiled, and Yu Xinping smiled back; her eyes narrowed into crescent moons, and they looked like a pair of mischievous sisters.

There was no sound in the makeup room for a long time. Everything was quiet, and without exception, faces filled with an expression of excitement bordering on nervousness. Just because the Yu Army Commander-in-Chief was sitting outside, he had bestowed such great face upon the school for no reason. Whether teachers or students, everyone knew today's performance was destined for the newspapers, and there was a sense of collective agitation—a restless desire to go on stage and perform.

Fanshu lowered her head, applying powder to her face with a hand mirror, her heart racing. She had waited for this day, yet she still suffered from stage fright. She felt her outfit today was impeccable; even the teacher in charge of makeup smiled at her, saying, "Miss Xie is truly beautiful today."

When she went on stage, she naturally gave it her all, grasping every glance and smile perfectly. During a break in the performance, she glanced down at the stage; it was a sea of people. Armed guards stood on the sides of the auditorium seats. He sat in the front row, his face extremely resolute, his military uniform adorned with golden tassels that swayed dazzlingly under the lights.

She recognized him because she had seen him in the newspapers.

He suddenly turned his head, his piercing gaze shooting directly toward her side. Fanshu was flustered, nearly taking the wrong step, and lagged a beat behind, giving the stage manager a great fright. Fortunately, she reacted quickly, catching up in a few steps, and placed her hand in the male lead’s, smiling like a blooming flower under the scorching stage lights.

He had only watched half the performance when he stood up and left. Even the guards outside were withdrawn. When she went back on stage, she saw that the front row was empty, and she suddenly lost the strength to perform, feeling a sense of inexplicable defeat.

When the play ended and Fanshu came off stage after the curtain call, she heard gossip backstage that the screenwriter, Liang Qiu'er, had been taken away by several guards. No one knew what had happened, and everyone was anxious. Could a mere play have crossed the government’s red line? Fanshu felt somewhat bewildered and, feeling quite deflated, packed her things to go home.

Xinping was waiting for her outside the school auditorium.

She was, naturally, surrounded by many guards. Seeing Fanshu walk out, she waved to her. Fanshu walked over; Xinping’s eyes were red, and after a long while, she said, "Sister Fanshu, my mother sent a telegram saying that at the end of this semester, I am to go to the United States. I am so reluctant to part with you."

Whenever Xinping was sad, she loved to call Fanshu "Sister," her thin voice filled with intimacy.

Fanshu smiled, "My father also said that once I graduate, he will send me to study at an American university."

Xinping’s eyes lit up, "Really?"

Fanshu nodded. As Xinping was happily carried away by her guards, Fanshu watched her retreating figure and suddenly felt that she was a pitiful child. So, this was the only descendant of the Yu family; Yu Changxuan, a hero for a generation, had no successor.

She turned around, preparing to hail a rickshaw to go home, when she was stopped. The person who stopped her was none other than He Junshen, the Chief of the Attendant Office who had been backstage that afternoon. She was stunned, a thousand chaotic thoughts flashing through her mind in an instant. He Junshen said with polite courtesy, "Miss Xie, we have been waiting here for you for a long time."

It was past ten o'clock at night, and she had already arrived at Fengtai.

Fengtai was Yu Changxuan’s private residence, guarded extremely strictly. The car drove inside, passing through several courtyards. Even until she stepped out of the car, her feet touching the solid asphalt road, she felt as if she were in a dream. Azaleas were planted along the driveway, red and brilliant, burning like fire.

He Junshen escorted her all the way upstairs. Pushing open the door, she saw a large bedroom with crimson cloud-brocade curtains hanging straight to the floor, embroidered with peonies in gold thread that dazzled the eyes. Most of the furniture in the room was imported. She walked in, treading on the carpet, her footsteps feeling light and airy, and her heart fluttering rhythmically. A pinch of incense powder burned in a sandalwood burner, the fragrance making her feel dizzy.

She sat on the sofa for a long time before hearing the sound of the door. When Yu Changxuan walked in, he took off his military coat and hung it on the rack. By the time he turned his head, she had already stood up, clutching her handbag with both hands, her head slightly lowered, her whole body rigid.

The room was silent for a long time. His voice was low, "Do you want to make a call to your home?"

Her heart was beating extremely fast, and her tense body shivered involuntarily. She said in a low voice, "My father and mother have gone to Grandfather's house and won't be back for many days."

There were no lights on in the bedroom, and his face was veiled in shadow. He said calmly, "I do not force others."

She stood silently before him, the window behind her flooded with white moonlight, illuminating her slender waist, its curve exquisite and delicate, like a pipa placed on a gold-lacquered tabletop. She raised her head to glance at him, a slight frown and a faint smile on her face, her brows naturally possessing a touch of allure and sentiment.

Even though she had prepared herself, when he undid the buttons of her clothes, she was still very nervous. Her fingers gripped the bedspread tightly, her forehead covered in tiny beads of sweat. In his arms, she couldn't stop shivering, more like a small fish just out of the water, struggling helplessly in his palm.

The moonlight shone down, and her bare shoulders glowed with a moist, warm light. The girl’s soft body seemed as if it were about to melt. He applied force without mercy; the pain, as if it were tearing her body apart, made her lips turn pale. Finally, she stretched out her hands in a plea to struggle, but it was useless; with one hand, he completely controlled her as she struggled in pain.

It was already midnight when Xie Fanshu returned home.

She was afraid the servants would see, especially Nanny Wu, who managed everything. She quietly bypassed the front and reached the backyard. The backyard garden was enclosed by a circle of swastika-patterned railings, overgrown with thick wisteria and small, blooming flowers, with crystal-clear dew rolling off the leaves. She used her key to open the garden gate and walked quietly back to her room.

The next day, she woke up extremely late. Fortunately, it was Sunday. As soon as she went downstairs, she saw Chongye sitting in the living room, wearing his new Nanpu Military Academy uniform, looking very dashing. She rushed over, snatched his military cap, put it on her own head, and spun around in place. Wearing her Western-style pleated skirt embroidered with tiny plum blossoms, as she spun, she looked like a celestial maiden scattering flowers.

Chongye laughed, "Slow down, be careful you don't get dizzy."

She stopped, but she was dizzy nonetheless, and stumbled. Chongye reached out to steady her, and once she stood firm, he pulled his hand back. His brows and eyes were clear and handsome; when he laughed, he was naturally very spirited, "It’s a rare holiday today. I’ll treat you to Western food at Kiessling’s."

Fanshu knew that he lived at the academy, and the military management was strict. This time, he must have known Father and Mother were not at home and made the special effort to come back to accompany her. She smiled, "What time do you have to go back?" Chongye said, "I asked for five hours' leave; I just need to be back by three o'clock in the afternoon."

Fanshu was terrified that a call might come from Fengtai while she was out, so she said with a smile, "With such a little time, let's not go out. I still have homework to finish. Will you accompany me?" Chongye laughed, "You’d better not be plotting for me to do your math."

With his military cap still perched on her head, she mischievously pulled his hand and went upstairs. Because she was quite disobedient and her studies were usually supervised directly by Father, Xie Zaohua, the books were all in Xie Zaohua’s study. She sat down at Father’s desk, needing to copy ten pages of small zhanhua clerical script every day according to Father’s instructions.

Chongye sat to the side accompanying her, taking books from the entire row of glass-fronted shelves to read. Only, today, the glass shelf furthest to the left, which was usually locked, was unlocked for some reason. Fanshu had only copied a few lines when she suddenly heard Chongye say "Huh." She looked up to see Chongye holding a book, an expression of shock on his face.

She smiled mischievously, "Did you find Father’s Jin Ping Mei?"

Chongye glanced at her, and she smiled demurely. He sighed helplessly, but there was a smile on his lips, so even the sigh carried a hint of doting. He took an old photograph out of the book. She hurried to drop her brush and ran over to look. In the photo was only a young girl, wearing her hair in two beautiful buns, holding a pot of plum blossoms, her brows and eyes imbued with a clear, icy air, like pear blossoms on snow.

The first moment she saw the girl in the photo, she was stunned, unable to help but say, "Truly beautiful."

Chongye realized they had inadvertently dug up Father’s privacy, and hurried to say, "Put it away." He started to tuck the photo back into the book, but Fanshu, not having seen enough, tugged his hand, laughing, "Don't put it away yet, let me see. Guess, could this be Father’s old lover?"

Chongye said, "That’s all the more reason to put it away. If Mother finds out, she might be furious." Fanshu snatched the photo, took another look, and then put the photo in her pocket. She took Chongye’s face in her hands and laughed, "Let me see, who among us looks like the girl in the photo? Maybe one of us was born to her."

Chongye pushed her hands away stiffly, saying after a long while, "Don't be silly." Fanshu giggled, "It's truly strange, Chongye, you’re actually embarrassed." Just as she was making a scene, she heard Nanny Wu’s voice outside, "Fanshu, your call, I’ve transferred it to your bedroom."

Nanny Wu was the wet nurse who had brought up Fanshu and Chongye; she held great status in the Xie household, and had always called Chongye and Fanshu by their first names. The Xie family had never treated her like a servant.

Fanshu’s eyes brightened, and she ran toward the door, turning back after a few steps to take the military cap she had been wearing askew and put it back on Chongye’s head. Her pupils were dark and bright, like a playful young deer, "Chongye, go back to the academy; I don't have time to play with you today."

Chongye was startled. Fanshu had already pushed the door open and run out, leaving behind a room filled with the scent of Chanel No. 5—lingering, like the faint fragrance emitted by a tuberose in a vase. He touched his cheek, her warmth seeming to linger upon it. He sat dazed for a long time.

The person calling was Yu Xinping. Fanshu was disappointed to the extreme. Xinping spoke for a long time on the phone, and finally said softly and affectionately, "Sister Fanshu, if only you were truly my sister."

Fanshu boredly twined the phone cord around her slender fingers, a thought suddenly flashing through her mind: How would Xinping react if she knew about her relationship with Yu Changxuan? A chill ran down her spine, and a sense of guilt toward Xinping sprouted in her heart out of nowhere.

Regardless of what her initial purpose had been, she was truly good to Xinping.

She waited in the bedroom all afternoon, but no call came from Fengtai.

She remembered that when she left, he was still asleep. After dressing, she had stood by the bed, gazing at his resolute face. His thick, black, sword-like eyebrows had given her an inexplicable, heart-pounding feeling. As she turned to leave, she had accidentally stepped on the military boots he had kicked randomly onto the floor. She had bent down carefully to straighten them for him, like a gentle wife.

She said to herself, "This is my man, a great hero." Her heart suddenly filled with boundless joy.

But he had actually forgotten to even leave her a number—couldn't he have asked his attendant to find out her home number?! So careless, she complained in her heart.

In the blink of an eye, half a month passed.

She was at home sulking when the student riots occurred at Jiangye University; naturally, she knew nothing of it. Later, when Chongye came back from the military academy to fetch some clothes, he mentioned in passing that the Commander-in-Chief had ordered the arrest of several leading professors, and was about to give a speech at Jiangye University. She immediately perked up.

The Commander-in-Chief in Chongye's mouth was Yu Changxuan, who also served as the principal of Nanpu Military Academy.

She dragged Chongye to pretend to be Jiangye University students to watch his speech. Naturally, the blockade was extremely tight, but unfortunately, they couldn't squeeze into the auditorium. She and Chongye hid outside the auditorium window. The golden sunlight shone on her snow-white cheeks; her skin was like a peeled, cooked egg—smooth and fair. Chongye suddenly felt his face burn and his heart race.

She suddenly turned her head, calling out with a smile, "Chongye." Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed his face. The surrounding students let out small hoots of teasing. He was so embarrassed and red-faced that he said in a low voice, "What are you up to now?"

She rested her arms on the window frame, one hand supporting her cheek as she gazed at him, smiling with a lazy, spoiled air, "I like you."

Chongye felt dizzy and bewildered. What startled him out of this trance was a cold gaze. He turned his head and saw Yu Changxuan, who was standing on the stage, looking at his face. That gaze was as sharp as a knife and sword. Yu Changxuan paused, turned his head, and continued his speech with a smile.

It changed so quickly that Chongye even thought he had just been hallucinating.

Chongye only had three hours of leave and naturally had to rush back to the academy. Fortunately, the speech was over. She walked out of Jiangye University alone, and sure enough, she saw the Attendant Chief, He Junshen, standing there waiting for her. On the other side of the street sat an American Buick car, with guards standing on all four sides.

When she got into the car, she saw the cold expression on his face, "Who was that boy?"

She was prepared. While glancing at him sideways, she raised her rosy lips, which were like the sepals of a peach blossom, and said with a smile, "I’m not telling you."

He looked at her, and she met his gaze defiantly, tilting her head slightly in a very childish gesture, "You are so busy, why must you control what I do?" His gaze only swept over her face once, and he suddenly laughed. It was only a faint laugh at first, but she became anxious, leaning over to gently bite his cheek like a naughty little fox, "No laughing, no laughing!"

He grabbed her hand, his eyes dark and deep, "You little thing, daring to play such tricks on me."

Toward dusk, he took her to Kiessling’s to eat Western food. The place was her choice; she loved Kiessling’s butter-braised squab. By the time the dessert was served, it was already dark, and candles were lit in the restaurant. As the candlelight flickered, she used a fork to spear the strawberry decorating the dessert in front of him, her shining eyes filled with smiles, "You have to let me have this."

He smiled, "It’s not like you don't have some on your plate."

She blinked, very playfully, "I just insist on grabbing yours, letting you watch me eat it."

That night, she stayed at Fengtai. Naturally, she had to make a call home first, saying she was staying at a classmate’s house. Mother was easy to talk to, but Father was extremely strict, though fortunately, Father was still busy at the hospital.

The moonlight splashed onto the thick carpet like liquid silver. When she got up, the moonlight shone on her fair, glowing shoulders; her bare shoulders looked like fragile glazed tiles. She had just finished putting on her dress when she heard him say coldly, "Move to Fengtai."

Fanshu turned back, her eyes revealing a gentle, alluring charm, "I won't." After a pause, she added with a smile, "I want you to think of me all day, yet be unable to see me—that’s what suits my heart."

A smile appeared on his lips, "Child." The tone was indifferent, with no discernible meaning.

Fanshu didn't go home until morning, and when she got back, she heard the servants say that a classmate named Xinping had called her several times. She was exhausted and naturally went back to her room and fell fast asleep, sleeping until the afternoon. When she went downstairs and passed her father’s study, she suddenly heard Father’s voice coming from inside.

"That photo was clearly tucked into this book, so why is it gone? I said this bookcase was not allowed to be opened; how could you be so careless!"

Mother said, "I just wanted to clean up for you. If the photo is lost, then let it be. Eighteen years have passed; what is the point of keeping it? Seeing it will only make people sad."

Father’s voice was somewhat sorrowful, "After all, she is the child’s mother; one must keep a memento."

Standing outside the door, she was struck as if by thunder. She couldn't hear what else Father and Mother said; only a chaotic sound echoed in her ears: Eighteen years, eighteen years had passed, and she was exactly eighteen years old this year.

Father’s voice came from inside again, "Chongye has known about this for a long time. I think he is very good to Fanshu, but Fanshu’s temper makes me very worried."

Mother sighed softly, "If Chongye marries Fanshu, wouldn't it be perfect? It would still be one family."

Shivering all over, Fanshu ran back to her room and took the photo out of her pocket. The girl in the photo, holding the plum blossom bonsai, still looked bright and clear. Her tears fell in torrents; she suddenly realized who Father and Mother were talking about.

That afternoon, she ran to Fengtai by herself. As soon as she entered the bedroom, she threw her handbag onto the floor, scattering everything inside, but she didn't care. She just threw herself crying into Yu Changxuan’s arms, "Is it highly likely that I am not Father and Mother’s child?"

He laughed, "Then whose child could you be?"

She shook her head, "I don't know."

He stroked the hair on her forehead with his hand and smiled slightly, "Truly a pitiful child."

She was still crying, "Father, Mother, and Chongye all knew, but only I didn't." She cried in his arms until she fell asleep. As she drifted in her sleep to the middle of the night, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her arm. When she opened her eyes, she found him standing before the bed in his pajamas, actually holding that photo in his hand. The expression on his face was terrifyingly ferocious, and his palm gripped her arm so tightly it felt as if he wanted to crush her, "What is your father’s name?"

She was afraid, "Xie Zaohua."

"What about Mother?"

"Bai Liyuan."

"How old are you this year?"

"Eighteen."

Yu Changxuan’s hand suddenly released her, his complexion ghastly to the extreme. The light shooting from his eyes was almost man-eating and chilling; she even discovered that his body was trembling. She sat up from the bed in a daze, reaching out to grab his hand, "What is wrong with you?"

He flung her hand away violently, turned, and walked quickly out of the bedroom as if fleeing.

The next morning, she left Fengtai alone in a rush, thinking the whole way about how to explain things to Father and Mother—a girl not returning for a night. Her head ached, and she couldn't think of a plan. Finally, when she got off the car, she decided: When the soldiers come, block them; when the water comes, cover it with earth!

As soon as she entered the door, she sensed the atmosphere was wrong. Chongye was actually home, and Nanny Wu was crying until she was a tearful mess. Chongye’s eyes were also bloodshot, and he said to her in a hoarse voice, "Fanshu, Father and Mother went out to find you last night and got into a car accident..."

She stood there ghastly pale, her soul flying away and her spirit scattering.

Well, that was great—she didn't have to rack her brains about how to explain her whereabouts the night before.

Three days later, before their parents’ funeral was even over, Chongye was actually arrested by the military police. The charge was inciting the public and gathering crowds to cause trouble, asserting that Chongye was a revolutionary. This was a completely unprovoked disaster—a false charge!

Desperate to the extreme, she ran to Fengtai to find him but was blocked by He Junshen and his men. The reason was singular: The Commander-in-Chief was busy and was seeing no one. Later, He Junshen personally drove her home. She returned home dejectedly, and Nanny Wu was standing in the corridor outside the house. The two sides of the corridor were tall, white pillars. Nanny Wu, who was over fifty, looked like a withered old branch between two pillars.

She said to Fanshu, "So, it was you who provoked them."

Fanshu gazed at Nanny Wu in a daze, Nanny Wu’s gaze revealing a deep chill, "Fanshu, there is one thing you must know."

Fanshu arrived at Fengtai again in the dead of night. If he wouldn't see her, she wouldn't leave.

He finally came to the reception room to see her, dressed in an iron-gray military uniform—stiff and indifferent. He didn't even look at Xie Fanshu, "Nothing you say will work; I have already signed the order. The execution will be before ten o'clock tomorrow night."

She gazed intently at his back, "If I beg you, can you let Chongye go?"

He was merciless, "No!"

She stared at him, and after a long while, she suddenly laughed wretchedly, "You clearly know Chongye is not a revolutionary, yet you must have his life! Did you intend to kill everyone around me? Does the list of people you want to execute include me?"

His figure paused.

Outside the window, white jade hairpins were in full bloom, one after another. Long stalks supported tender leaves, and the flowers were crystal-clear and elegant, as if they were transcendent fairies. Swaying quietly in the night, his face turned pale, and he said softly, "Leave; I never want to see you again."

On the following evening, Fanshu called to invite Yu Xinping to be a guest at her home. Xinping knew her family had suffered such a major tragedy and came quietly to see her. Sure enough, she saw Fanshu looking haggard, wearing a magnetic-blue floral qipao that brushed past her ankles, swaying gently. She stood alone before the carved window, like a withered and fallen flower.

Xinping tried to distract her, "You never liked wearing qipaos before."

She smiled, "Chongye likes to see me wear a qipao."

Xinping felt guilty, "In a few days, I will go talk to Father about Brother Chongye’s matter." She shook her head gently, "No need, I have a way." Fortunately, her spirit was still quite good. Xinping kept her company and ate dinner with her. The two played the piano together in the music room for a while. When nine o'clock at night came, Fanshu took Xinping into the small sitting room for snacks, specifically turning on the radio. As the two listened to music, Fanshu poured a cup of tea for Xinping and suddenly smiled, "Your hair is messy; let me brush it for you."

Xinping nodded, holding the teacup and turning her head obediently. While drinking tea and talking to her, Fanshu used an ivory comb to brush her hair. Her slender fingers appeared and disappeared within Xinping’s hair, and Xinping blushed inexplicably, whispering, "Sister Fanshu, I truly like you."

Fanshu nodded, "I like you too."

The night deepened. Fanshu finished brushing Xinping’s hair, and the fragile Xinping lay quietly in Fanshu’s arms, having stopped breathing.

The study was very quiet.

A grandfather clock stood to the side of the bookcase, its pendulum rocking back and forth. A piece of purple jasmine rouge incense burned in the sandalwood burner, emitting a faint fragrance. A green-shaded lamp was lit on the table, casting a ghostly glow. The thin moonlight was blocked outside, and the large floor-to-ceiling curtains were completely drawn. The door was inlaid with carved, painted glass, the glass decorated with various patterns that dazzled the eyes.

Yu Changxuan sat in the chair before the desk, quietly looking at the photo in his hand. His eyes were dark, his deep face hidden in the faint shadows. He only felt cold; it was as if frost and chill were everywhere, surrounding him tightly, even making his breathing abnormally difficult.

He still remembered that young girl he had cherished above all else. On that quiet, deep night, the moonlight was like frost, reflecting the shadows of trees on the ground. When she turned her head for a faint glance, her fair and beautiful face seemed to have melted into the frosted moonlight; her delicate brows and eyes were like a petal of snow-white pear blossom in spring, her elegance tinged with a faint, cold, fragrant air.

For so many years, he remembered it all clearly.

He slowly turned the photo in his hand face down on the desk, his heart in chaos, as if countless ants were gnawing at it. A heart-piercing light appeared in his eyes, and he whispered, "Pingjun, you punish me this way..."

The phone on the desk suddenly rang, the sound piercing. When he picked up the phone, He Junshen’s voice came through, "Commander-in-Chief, a call for Miss Xie."

He was dazed for a long while, but said, "Put it through."

Xie Fanshu’s voice quickly came over the receiver—her tone calm and light, "Yu Changxuan, since you are so ruthless, harming my father and mother to death, I will also make you pay the same price!"

He didn't speak.

Xie Fanshu said, "Xinping is here with me; she is asleep, very quietly."

He shouted in instant anger, "What have you done to her?!"

She laughed, "I came to tell you one thing—actually, you have no need to worry. That year, Ye Pingjun gave birth to a boy; I am not your daughter."

It was as if he had stepped into a void, or had been struck fiercely by a fist to the face. His body jolted violently, his breathing grew rapid, his teeth gritted, "Xie Fanshu, explain yourself clearly—where... where is that boy now?!"

But the other side of the receiver fell silent.

He gripped the receiver tightly, nearly driven to madness, "Xie Fanshu!"

"Changxuan—" She seemed to give a light laugh, quietly calling his name, with extreme tenderness, "It’s ten o'clock."

As soon as her words fell, the grandfather clock against the wall sounded, "Dong... dong... dong..." The pendulum swung back and forth, the deep bell sound ringing slowly in his ears. Every strike seemed to beat fiercely against his heart, tearing at his nerves, devastating and destroying everything.

His chest heaved violently, and an expression of despair and desolation appeared in his eyes.

The grandfather clock finished striking ten in silence, and then everything returned to dead stillness. And that purple jasmine rouge incense burning in the sandalwood burner—it, too, had burned out.