The single string draws meaning, it sounds dense with emotion. Writing on phoenix paper of boundless matters, still regrets that spring feelings are difficult to convey.

Lying and listening to scattered rain on the phoenix tree, after the rain, a faint moon shines hazily.

A night of dreams, where does the spirit go? Back to that pavilion among poplar leaves.

22

The weather was so hot. Wearing his military uniform for duty, Lei Shaogong was covered in sweat just from walking along the corridor. As soon as he entered the duty room, he casually removed his hat. Although the ceiling fan was spinning, it only circulated hot air. He had just poured himself some cool tea to drink when he heard the bell ring. The attendant on duty made a surprised sound and said, “Strange, the master isn’t here. Who’s ringing from the study?” Lei Shaogong said, “Probably the Third Young Master. I’ll go check.”

Mu Rong Qingyi didn’t expect it to be him, and with his head lowered, said, “Bring me the files that Father mentioned yesterday.” Lei Shaogong asked, “That will take some time. Will the Third Young Master be eating here today?” Only then did Mu Rong Qingyi raise his head, “It’s you? You’ve become more nagging than them now, even taking over kitchen matters.”

Lei Shaogong said, “You haven’t been home for almost a month. Today is your birthday. Go home for dinner.”

Mu Rong Qingyi snorted, “Aren’t I at home now? Where else should I go?” Lei Shaogong saw that he was deliberately pretending not to understand, but fearing that pushing too hard would be counterproductive, he could only say, “They called from there saying the Mistress seems to have been ill these past few days. You should go back and check on her.” Seeing him remain silent, Lei Shaogong knew he was softening somewhat, so he said, “I’ll call for the car.”

It was dusk, and the setting sun cast long shadows of flowers and trees in the courtyard. The stone pavement had been watered, and steam was rising. The tuberose at the foot of the steps had bloomed, and the heat intensified its fragrance. Ren Susu sat in a rattan chair. Everything around was quiet, just hot, a heat that made one restless. She languidly fanned herself with a silk fan. Xin Jie walked over and said, “The courtyard has just been watered; it’s very hot here. Mistress, please go inside.” She didn’t want to move, nor did she want to speak, just slowly shook her head. Xin Jie asked, “The kitchen wants to know what to serve for dinner. Porridge again?”

She nodded, and Xin Jie left. After a moment, she returned, delighted, saying, “Mistress, the Third Young Master has returned.” Her hand trembled slightly, and her heart burned with anxiety. He had finally returned.

Her soft satin shoes made no sound on the floor. The living room lights were not on, and his face was indistinct in the dimness. She stood far away, standing alone, waiting for him to speak.

Behind her was the hazy afterglow, outlining her thin silhouette. He gazed at her for a long time. Across half a room lay the distance of worlds apart. An unbridgeable chasm; he could never make her smile for him. In front of him, she always only lowered her head, silent and wordless.

A sense of helplessness welled up, forcing him to turn his face away. Expressionless and cold, he said, “I heard you were ill. Did you have Dr. Xu come to check?” She nodded slightly. His face showed only cold weariness. She suddenly lost her last bit of hope. Xin Jie, however, couldn’t contain herself and said happily, “Third Young Master, the Mistress is too shy to say—congratulations are in order.”

He turned to look at her, but her eyes showed only calm indifference. So this child, she considered it optional, perhaps even unwanted. She didn’t love him, and by extension, didn’t want his child either. He found he didn’t even dare to ask a single question, just looking at her.

Gradually, a desolate sadness rose in her eyes… He had guessed correctly; this untimely child only added to her troubles, becoming a burden. He turned his face away wearily. Outside the window, dusk was falling, the shadows of flowers and trees blurred—darkness had come.

Lei Shaogong didn’t expect him to come out so quickly and knew he must be unhappy. He silently followed him to the car. Finally, he heard him say, “Let’s go eat Suzhou cuisine.”

The waiter at Yixin Restaurant saw him and naturally acted as if a phoenix had arrived. With a beaming smile, he ushered him in, chattering non-stop: “The Third Young Master hasn’t honored our humble establishment for some time. Today we have extremely fresh mandarin fish.” Meanwhile, he called to the counter, “Go to the cellar and bring up that twenty-year-old Daughter Red wine.”

The claim of twenty-year aging was just the restaurant’s boast. But that Daughter Red wine had a powerful aftereffect. As he and Lei Shaogong drank together, Lei Shaogong could still control himself, but Mu Rong Qingyi was already quite drunk. Just as the sweet soup was being served, someone pushed open the door and said with a smile, “Third Young Master, on such a day, this uninvited guest must come to offer a toast.”

Lei Shaogong looked up and saw a woman in an autumn-yellow qipao, graceful and elegant—it was Xu Changxuan. She was very close to Jin Rui, who viewed her as a little sister, so she was also very familiar with Mu Rong Qingyi. Mu Rong Qingyi was heavily drunk and just smiled, “Aren’t you studying abroad? When did you return?” Xu Changxuan said, “I’ve been back for a while. I remember today is a special day. Why are you eating alone? Where is the Mistress?”

Lei Shaogong saw that she was bringing up exactly what shouldn’t be mentioned and quickly asked, “Is Miss Xu back for a vacation or to stay permanently?” Xu Changxuan said, “Permanently; I won’t be leaving again.” Seeing Mu Rong Qingyi looking at her, she slowly lowered her head.

Mrs. Mu Rong returned from her summer retreat at Fenggang, and Jin Rui and Weiyi came to see her. The children were playing in the courtyard, and the three women were talking in the small parlor. Weiyi asked, “Is the Third Sister-in-law coming today?” Mrs. Mu Rong said, “Her condition doesn’t allow it; I told her not to come.” Jin Rui said, “I think Third Brother is being outrageous this time. With Susu in this state, he’s still fooling around.” Weiyi said, “It’s strange. After knowing Changxuan for all these years, why has Third Brother suddenly taken an interest in her?”

Jin Rui said, “I think Changxuan is being foolish.” But Mrs. Mu Rong said, “Changxuan is far from foolish; it’s Third Son who’s foolish.” She continued, “Jin Rui, don’t underestimate Changxuan.”

Jin Rui was displeased. A few days later, she invited Xu Changxuan out for tea. Seeing her dressed in a pale blue cloud-patterned qipao, she couldn’t help saying, “Why are you dressed so plainly?” Changxuan smiled, “Recently, I’ve found that more subdued styles look better.” Jin Rui then said, “Changxuan, you know our Third Brother; he excels at breaking hearts. Don’t be taken in by him.” Changxuan laughed, “Where is Elder Sister getting these ideas? Recently, I’ve often been with the Third Young Master, but it’s just for meals and tea.” Hearing her say this, Jin Rui understood somewhat and felt rather displeased, only saying, “Then take care of yourself.”

After the Lunar New Year, Mrs. Mu Rong concerned that Ren Susu’s due date was approaching and worried she might lack proper care living alone, had her move back to Shuangqiao for closer attention. Mu Rong Qingyi’s visits home were naturally brief—he would make an appearance and then leave.

The weather became warmer day by day, and Ren Susu was walking in the courtyard. Just as she passed a flower screen, she suddenly heard familiar voices—it was Weiyi, her tone somewhat angry, “Third Brother is just being foolish. Third Sister-in-law is about to give birth, and he doesn’t even come home.” The other voice was Jin Rui, “Indeed, Xu Changxuan has a hold on him.” Ren Susu didn’t want to eavesdrop and turned to leave, but in her haste, she twisted her waist and felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She couldn’t help crying out “Ai yo.” Jin Rui and Weiyi hurried out from behind the flower screen to check, and seeing her in pain and sweating, Weiyi panicked first: “Third Sister-in-law.” Jin Rui said, “It looks like it’s starting. Quick, go call someone.” While speaking, she went to support her.

Ren Susu was in pain and dizzy. Mrs. Mu Rong, though composed, was still pacing anxiously in the living room. After sitting for a moment, she stood up again, and after a while, asked again, “Has Third Son returned yet?” Weiyi said, “He should be arriving soon.” Jin Rui remained fairly calm, only saying, “Mother, you’re too partial. When I had Xiao Rui, you weren’t like this.” Mrs. Mu Rong said, “This child… Alas…” As she was speaking, she looked up and saw Mu Rong Qingyi return. Seeing his pale face, she comforted him, “It looks like it’s still early; don’t worry.” Though she said this, Mu Rong Qingyi was still anxious, pacing back and forth like a caged beast, frequently looking upstairs.

It began to rain in the evening, and after midnight, the rain grew heavier. The sound of tree branches rustling outside the window could be heard, and the wind blew through the cracks, making the heavy curtains sway slightly. Mrs. Mu Rong felt a chill and turned to quietly call a servant, “Have them light the fireplace, but be quiet, don’t disturb Susu.” She then said to Jin Rui and Weiyi, “You two should go to sleep; things have settled down now.” Weiyi said softly with a smile, “How can anyone sleep at a time like this? We must at least wait until they’ve washed the baby and brought it out for us to see.”

The fire was lit in the fireplace, and the red glow of the flames cast a warm light throughout the room. Mrs. Mu Rong saw that Ren Susu was exhausted and sleeping deeply, with strands of hair sticking to her face and fine beads of sweat on her forehead. Her snow-white face showed thick black lashes closed like fans. Looking up, she saw Mu Rong Qingyi staring intently at Ren Susu and couldn’t help sighing softly again.

The nurse brought out the baby, and Weiyi was the first to take her. She let out a soft “Ah” and said, “Third Brother, look, this child’s features are so delicate. She’ll surely be a great beauty when she grows up.” Mrs. Mu Rong smiled, “Her grandfather has already called twice to ask about her.” Jin Rui laughed, “Father has finally become a grandfather; he’ll probably rush back early out of joy.” She added, “Third Brother, are you so happy you’re speechless?” But Weiyi said, “I know Third Brother; he’s sulking because it’s a girl.” Mrs. Mu Rong said, “What’s wrong with a daughter? You can have a son next year.” She continued, “Let’s not stay here; we might wake Susu. You’ve all seen the baby; now go back to your rooms and sleep.”

After they left, Mrs. Mu Rong gave the nurse a few more instructions before returning to her room. The nurse took the baby away, and the room grew quiet. Ren Susu was in a daze, only feeling someone gently holding her hand. The hand was so warm, making her reluctant to let go. Thinking it was Mrs. Mu Rong, she murmured drowsily, “Mom,” before falling back asleep.

Mu Rong Qingyi gazed at her for a long time. Her hand still rested gently in his palm, soft and slightly cool. Only at this moment, only now, could he look at her without restraint, and she wouldn’t avoid him. She had suffered so much, never uttering a word of complaint to him, never confiding in him even once. Even to Mrs. Mu Rong, she was more open than to him.

His arm grew numb and sore from being extended for so long, but he wished the night would never end, that this moment could last a little longer, just a little longer.

Mu Rong Feng’s official duties were numerous, and he only returned to Shuangqiao on the third day. Mu Rong Qingyi went to the study to see him and found an attendant grinding ink while Mu Rong Feng put down his brush. Seeing him enter, Mu Rong Feng said, “You’ve come at the right time.” Mu Rong Qingyi saw four characters written on the rice paper and read them aloud: “Mu Rong Jingyan.” He knew it came from the “Shijing” (Book of Poetry) phrase “quiet words, ponder them.” Mrs. Mu Rong, standing nearby, said, “It’s good, but it’s too literary. These past two days, everyone has been calling her Nan Nan. It seems this nickname will stick for a long time.”

The Mu Rong family had many relatives and friends. Mu Rong Feng usually disliked grand affairs, but in his joy, he made an exception. Mrs. Mu Rong organized a very lively and splendid full-month celebration banquet. Naturally, Nan Nan was brought out by Ren Susu for the relatives and friends to have a good look. Everyone exclaimed in admiration. Wang Qilin, standing nearby, also said with a smile, “Truly a little beauty in the making.” She added, “But she doesn’t look like the Third Young Master; she’s inherited all her mother’s beauty.” Weiyi said, “How can you say she doesn’t look like him? Look at that high nose bridge, just like Third Brother’s.” Wang Qilin laughed, “Look at my clumsy tongue; that’s not what I meant.” Just then, Ren Susu raised her eyes, her clear black and white pupils with their cold gaze made Wang Qilin inexplicably start, before quickly saying, “The Third Mistress shouldn’t take it to heart. You know I’m the worst at speaking; I say the wrong thing as soon as I open my mouth.”

The banquet dispersed deep in the night. After seeing off the guests, Mu Rong Qingyi went upstairs, first visiting the nursery to check on the child, then to the bedroom. Ren Susu was still awake. Seeing him enter, her pitch-black eyes, like the coldest starlight, stared straight at him—not angry, not sad, yet they made him feel that bone-chilling cold again. This coldness eventually provoked an instinctive anger, “Don’t look at me like that. I said I wouldn’t touch you, and I won’t touch you again in this lifetime!”

Her eyes were like water in a deep pool, calm and still. After a long while, she lowered her head as usual, as if breathing a sigh of relief. He hated her bitterly in his heart; she treated him this way, destroying everything he had. The rest of his life would be filled with endless despair and cruelty. She had easily pushed him to the edge, finally forcing him to coldly say, “Don’t think you can have your way, taking me for a fool.”

She raised her eyes again, still with that calm, clear gaze, like new snow under the moon, chilling one to the core. She finally spoke, saying, “You suspect me like this?”

He knew she had misunderstood, but the tears welling in her eyes finally gave him a resolute satisfaction. She had finally been angered by him. He would rather she hate him than look at him so calmly, as if her gaze passed through his body, looking at some void. Treating him as if he were nothing, he would rather she hate him—even if the hatred made her remember him. She was so heartless and cruel, forcing him until his heart died, making him suffer eternal torment in the deepest hell. So let her hate him completely, hate him enough to remember him, hate him enough to never forget him throughout eternity—it was still better than having no place at all in her heart. He blurted out, “Yes, I suspect you, suspect that child—along with the one from six years ago. How do I know if they were my children?”

She trembled all over. The greatest pain in her heart was being treated as a deception by him. So in his heart, she had become so contemptible. From next door came the faint sound of the baby crying. She realized she had been wrong; he wouldn’t even give her this last shred of dignity. He was so vicious, trampling on her willfully, and then, he could still say such cold-blooded, cruel words. The baby’s cries grew louder, and she turned her head away in despair. Better not to have brought her into this world if humiliation was waiting for her in the cradle. She was being questioned like this; he questioned her like this.

The baby’s cries grew louder, each one seeming to tear at her heart. Tears burst from her eyes, and she shook her head slightly, only despair left in her eyes. That expression made his heart ache sharply. An ominous premonition welled up, and he lunged forward to grab her hand. She struggled desperately, but he wouldn’t let go. She bit down hard on the back of his hand; the salty taste of blood seeped between her lips and teeth, but he still held her tightly, refusing to release her. She finally freed one hand and forcefully swung it, slapping him hard across the face with a loud “pak.” She was stunned. He was also stunned, gradually loosening his grip. She suddenly turned and rushed out the door. He chased after her, and she nearly fell down the stairs, each step feeling empty, each step a fall. The pain had already numbed; only desperate recklessness remained. She would rather die, rather die than continue living, living with such humiliation and suspicion, living to continue facing him. The way he treated her, she would rather die.

A car that had just returned from sending off guests was parked in front of the corridor. The driver had just gotten out, and the engine was still running. She pushed the driver aside and got into the car. She heard his final, heart-wrenching cry: “Susu!”

She stepped on the accelerator, and the car shot forward like a light black butterfly, crashing into a ginkgo tree with a “boom.” The ginkgo had just sprouted new leaves, and in the yellowish glow of the street lights, countless green fan-shaped leaves fluttered down, like a shower of emerald rain. Tremendous pain surged from all directions, and boundless darkness swallowed everything. She only had time to show a final trace of a contented smile.

The long night seemed endless as if dawn would never come. A single lamp in the waiting room, it’s hazy light like tearful eyes, blurred and painful. The chaotic footsteps finally roused the most submerged anguish, like a child who only realizes they’ve lost their parent after coming to their senses, with overwhelming panic and desperate pain. He just stared directly at the doctor’s face. The doctor, pressured by Mu Rong Qingyi’s gaze, dared not meet his eyes. Mrs. Mu Rong slowly asked, “How is she? Just tell us the truth.”

“Intracranial hemorrhage. We—we can’t stop the bleeding.”

Mu Rong Qingyi finally asked, “What do you mean?” His eyes were bloodshot, entangled with nightmare-like despair, making the doctor feel a chill down his spine. Mrs. Mu Rong gently held his hand, saying, “Good child, go see her.” Weiyi finally couldn’t hold back and covered her mouth with a handkerchief, crying out. Mu Rong Qingyi shook his head slightly, but after a moment, he shook off Mrs. Mu Rong’s hand like a madman and staggered to push open the hospital room door. Jin Rui saw that he nearly fell and went forward to support him, but was also pushed away, almost losing her balance.

Ren Susu’s arm hung lifelessly by the bed. The room was so quiet you could almost hear the drip of the IV. He took her hand, solemnly and slowly pressing it to his face. There was not a trace of color on her face, and her slightly trembling eyelashes were like the most fragile flower stamens in the wind. Each rapid, shallow breath under the oxygen mask was like a knife, slowly cutting and twisting his internal organs. He had never felt so cold, as if he were in an ice cellar, his blood almost freezing. He would rather it be him, him facing death, than having to face her like this. So cruel, she was so cruel to resist death; she would rather die than face him again. His heart turned to ashes, with only despair remaining. So that was it; she would rather die than have him.

This realization nearly drove him to lose his mind. He slowly lowered his head, desperate and grieving, “I beg you. I have never begged anyone in my life, but I beg you, beg you to live. I promise you can leave me from now on, I promise. From now on, I will never appear before you again. Even if I can never see you again in this lifetime, I only ask that you live on.”