Chapter 26

Gu Wenqian sat upright in the chair, motionless.

He had a strange, terrifying feeling. It was as if he were watching his soul being ripped from his body and driven into the stone wall. What was that thing, deeply embedded in his neck? A pen?

Yes, it was a fountain pen, with a gold-plated body, the one he always used. He had unscrewed the cap half a minute ago, intending to hand it to Rongxiang to sign the peace agreement… but… how did it turn out like this?

Xiao Meng looked back outside and saw that there were still the same two guards on duty—no, it was lunchtime, and only one was left.

Without hesitation, he grabbed a towel and covered Gu Wenqian's mouth and nose with one hand, while forcefully pulling the pen out with the other. Gu Wenqian stared at him blankly, then suddenly his body convulsed, and blood gushed from the wound.

Slowly, he helped him lean back in the chair. Xiao Meng took out a dagger from his pocket and swiftly slit his throat.

Rong Xiang, who was behind him, breathed a sigh of relief. He cocked the pistol, then held it in his hand and put it into his cotton-padded coat pocket.

Xiao Meng walked to the table, picked up the steel tray, and, as he always did after giving Rongxiang an injection, pushed open the door and walked out. The guard at the door, used to seeing this, glanced at him, then turned his head to look at the smoke rising from the kitchen.

The next second, his carotid artery was completely severed. He could even see his own blood spurting into the air, a bright red, misty fan-shaped spray.

The murderer dodged to the side with such agility that not even a drop of blood touched him.

Yan Guanglin sat by the window, engrossed in reading an English novel under the light of a small desk lamp. Beside her sat a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, a local maid she had recently hired for companionship, named Zhaodi.

Zhao Di had a small bamboo basket on her lap, piled high with colorful scraps of cloth. She squinted as she rummaged through them, trying to find some matching pieces of silk to make shoes for her children. After a while, she looked up at Yan Guanglin curiously and said, "Madam, why don't you rest for a bit? It's not good for your health if you get tired."

Yan Guanglin rested her chin on her hand, listlessly tracing the pages of the book with her finger: "I do nothing all day, how could I get tired!"

"Aren't you tired of reading such thick foreign books? Madam, I've never seen anyone more learned than you in the entire county! If you were a man, you could have taken the imperial examination two years ago back in the Qing Dynasty!"

Yan Guanglin couldn't help but smile: "Alright, I'll go to sleep now. You don't need to do any more needlework. Go back to your room and rest!"

Zhao Di agreed, rolled up the pieces of silk and put them back in the basket, then got up to make the bed for Yan Guanglin. Yan Guanglin covered her mouth and yawned, then got up and rubbed her lower back. She was about four months pregnant, and although it wasn't very noticeable yet, sitting for a long time made her back ache, and she felt much more delicate than before. However, being alone in this remote little county town, being delicate was pointless; there wasn't even anyone to care for her. Thinking of this, she couldn't help but resent Rong Xiang. After resenting him, a soft, tender feeling welled up inside her, and she hoped he would win the battle soon so he could return and live a peaceful life with her.

When she was a girl, she had always despised those dull women who were solely devoted to their husbands. Even now, she remained clear-headed, only her thinking had changed considerably—she now felt that being a woman with someone to miss had its own romantic aspects. Especially now, with the war separating a loving newlywed couple, it was like something out of a novel!

She always comforted herself with this thought, and over time, she almost believed it to be true.

Zhao Di made the bed and turned to help Yan Guanglin into bed. Suddenly, there seemed to be some commotion in the distance. This was unusual, because since Rong Xiang left, this place had been protected by Commander Feng of an independent regiment. Commander Feng was very loyal to his duty and protected the place like an iron barrel, not even a bird could fly in.

Yan Guanglin didn't pay much attention, but Zhaodi was a little curious: "It's so late, why is there such a commotion at the door? We're too far from the gate, we can't hear clearly." As she spoke, she helped Yan Guanglin sit down, then walked to the window. Just as she was about to press her face against the glass to look outside, a servant suddenly pushed the door open breathlessly: "Madam... Third Master is back!"

Yan Guanglin paused for a moment, then stepped out and put on her shoes: "He's back? Where is he?"

The servant pointed behind him: "He's in the guest room. Third Master seems to be feeling unwell. He had Lieutenant Meng carry him back."

Upon hearing this, Yan Guanglin bent down, picked up her shoes, and ran outside. Zhao Di followed a step and, noticing that she was only wearing a thin shirt, quickly turned back, grabbed a cloak, and chased after her. It was dark and the road was slippery, so she was very careful. When she entered the guest room, she was surprised to see the lady of the house hugging a man dressed as a soldier and crying.

The man looked disheveled, covered in dust, almost unrecognizable. One sleeve of his cotton-padded coat was pulled down, revealing a dirty, tattered military uniform underneath. Despite being held so affectionately, his face remained expressionless. Beside him, a young man in a black suit squatted on the ground, placing a syringe and a small glass vial into a tray lined with white gauze. The room was brightly lit, revealing the young man to be no more than twenty years old, with a clean, baby-faced appearance, still somewhat childish, yet his expression held a cold indifference beyond his years. He arranged the neatly arranged injection supplies, then picked up the tray and walked towards the door. Zhao Di, clutching the cotton-padded coat, stared blankly at him until he was right in front of her, then suddenly snapped out of her daze, hastily stepping aside to make way for him.

"Xiao Meng!" The dirty man in Yan Guanglin's arms suddenly called out softly. Zhao Di was surprised, thinking that this person's voice was gentle and quite pleasant.

The boy in black—or rather, the man—immediately stopped and turned around: “Third Master, I’ll take the medicine to the study and be right back.”

"Let someone else take you, don't leave!" After saying this, he seemed to be having trouble breathing and lowered his head to Yan Guanglin's shoulder.

Yan Guanglin wiped away her tears and gently patted Rongxiang's back. Didn't they say that war was not dangerous and that he would definitely win? How come he came back after three months looking like he had escaped from the gates of hell? She turned around and asked Zhaodi to get her a hot towel, then gently wiped his face. After wiping his face, the entire towel was so dirty and black that it was unusable.

"What happened to you? You're covered in dust and dirt!" she asked, laughing and crying at the same time. After wiping him clean, she noticed he was so thin his chin had become sharp.

Rongxiang stared blankly at her for a long time before answering, "I fell down."

Seeing that he was acting strangely, Yan Guanglin guessed it was because he had been traveling all day and hadn't been able to get his injection on time. She didn't say anything, but simply helped him take off his outer cotton coat, then got up to prepare water for him to bathe. After the servant left, she turned around and found Rongxiang slumped on the sofa, having fallen asleep silently.

"Let's wash tomorrow, Third Master is exhausted today," Xiao Meng suddenly said from the doorway.

Yan Guanglin walked to his side and asked in a low voice, "What exactly happened?"

"Madam, ask Third Master tomorrow."

Yan Guanglin was somewhat dissatisfied with this answer, but she didn't say much. She simply took the cotton coat from Zhaodi and turned to cover Rongxiang with it.

Rongxiang finally regained consciousness the next day at noon.

He rubbed his eyes, looking at his appearance, feeling a moment of disorientation. It took him a long time to realize what had happened. He had suffered so much yesterday, so deeply, that it overshadowed all other memories and feelings.

Xiao Meng spent an hour washing him thoroughly from head to toe. After getting dressed, he sat in Yan Guanglin's bedroom and felt it necessary to explain his current miserable situation to her.

"How...how are you?" he asked vaguely, looking at her slightly protruding belly.

Yan Guanglin grasped his hand: "Which aspect are you asking about? Me, or the baby?"

"Yes, we have both."

Yan Guanglin smiled and said, "It's all good. It's just too lonely." As she spoke, she turned her head and glanced at Xiao Meng by the door. She thought that this person had no sense at all. The couple had been separated for a long time and were about to say something, but he just stood there stiffly.

Turning her gaze to Rongxiang, she said softly, "Tell me about your story."

Rongxiang knew she was annoyed by Xiaomeng, but he was becoming increasingly dependent on her—to the point where they couldn't be apart even for a moment. It wasn't just because of the injections; he felt psychologically that without Xiaomeng by his side, it was as if half of him had been cleaved in two, leaving him feeling empty and panicked.

Previously, he might have sent Xiao Meng away, but now, because he had subconsciously made the most pessimistic plan, he became willful and didn't want to accommodate anyone.

"I'm over there in Bashang... There's a big problem in the army." As he said this, he looked up at Yan Guanglin and found that she was staring intently at him.

"It was the chief of staff who instigated the infighting. I was placed under house arrest for a few days, but later I managed to get rid of the chief of staff. I disguised myself as a soldier and sneaked out of the barracks, and then drove all the way back."

Yan Guanglin knew he never exaggerated when he spoke, so those few words sounded casual, but the situation must have been extremely dangerous. She pressed her hand to her chest, trying her best to remain calm: "And then?"

"There's no one in charge in the army right now, so Fu Jingyuan's battle will be extremely easy."

"Fu Jingyuan?" She was confused. "What, is there something to do with Fu Jingyuan?"

"Oh, I killed Fu Yangshan. Fu Jingyuan is bringing troops to avenge his elder brother. Although we have more people, when the army collapses, having more people won't help."

"What? That Fu Jingyuan, he..."

Rongxiang lowered his eyes, sighed with a bitter smile, and said, "This time, he's definitely going to kill me!"

"Don't talk nonsense."

“Tongguan only has one independent regiment right now. If a real battle breaks out, it won’t even last a day. I’m telling you, if Fu Jingyuan leads his troops in, don’t run around. Be careful not to run into those thugs outside. Just wait for him here. He’s actually a very good person. He’ll only protect you and will never hurt you.”

Yan Guanglin bit her lip hard: "Don't talk nonsense! I don't need him to protect me! What's the point of me living to be a hundred if something happens to you?"

Rongxiang patted her hand: "Don't talk nonsense. It's good to be alive. I'm disheartened now, it doesn't matter what happens. I just regret it now," he pointed to his arm: "I shouldn't have gotten involved with this stuff in the first place. Once I got hooked, I got deeper and deeper into it. Now it controls my whole being, and it will control me until I die. Someone told me back then that I should quit immediately, but unfortunately, after he said that, the Japanese bombed me to death. After he died, there was no one left who could control me."

Thinking of Yi Zhongming, a trace of sorrow appeared on his face: "I am not afraid of death, but I am afraid of falling into the hands of others before I die, then I will suffer."

Upon hearing this, Yan Guanglin felt her eyes redden and her vision blurred. She stood up and hugged Rong Xiang from behind: "Don't think like that. I will never let you die."

Rong Xiang closed his eyes, thinking that given Fu Jingyuan's goodwill towards her, he might indeed let him off the hook because of her pleading. However... he drowsily lowered his head, feeling that nothing mattered, and he became completely numb from the bottom of his heart.

Three days later, Rong Xiang received news from the dam area. His army, the source of all his hopes, had been completely defeated. Fu Jingyuan had released a large number of prisoners and incorporated the remaining soldiers who refused to leave into his own army. They were now marching menacingly towards Tongguan.

This should have been terrifying news, but to Rongxiang, it sounded like a distant dream, as if it had nothing to do with him. He lay on the bed in a daze, drunk on morphine, almost losing the ability to think.

Yan Guanglin was at a loss with him. Although she knew in her heart that he was devastated by the shattering of his ideals and had simply given up and resigned himself to his fate, it was not right to just sit and wait for death.

She spent most of her time sitting beside Rongxiang, gently stroking his eyebrows, eyes, and lips with her fingers. He had indeed lost a lot of weight; the contours of his face were more defined, and his skin was pale to the point of being bluish, yet his features appeared even more striking.

She loved this face, so when her fingers touched it, she felt a surge of tenderness in her heart. But Rongxiang simply kept his eyes closed, occasionally offering a handsome smile, as if in response to Yan Guanglin's touch.

Commander Feng of the Independent Regiment had already packed his bags and left; this was the only order Rong Xiang issued while he was lucid. He felt there was no need to send his men to their deaths. He hadn't expected that with Commander Feng gone, his soldiers would lose control, grabbing their guns and running into the streets, desperately trying to find some final amusement. Gunshots and cries of agony rang out intermittently, with occasional extremely loud ones that even Rong Xiang in his room could hear.

He was incredibly calm, so calm that he was almost delirious. Xiao Meng repeatedly increased the dosage of morphine, driving him into hallucinations until he had almost forgotten everything. Until noon that day, Xiao Meng forcibly helped him up to wash and then dressed him neatly. Rong Xiang sat on the sofa, staring blankly as Xiao Meng knelt in front of him and tied his shoelaces.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Xiao Meng looked up and helped him straighten his tie: "Third Master, Fu Jingyuan's troops have entered the city."

Rongxiang nodded: "Where is your wife?"

"They're coming this way."

Rongxiang waved his hand: "Don't let her in. I don't want to see anyone."

"yes."

Xiao Meng got up and ran out. Rong Xiang opened his eyes wide and looked around, feeling as if his brain was stuffed with cotton, his thinking weak and sluggish. He took a deep breath and forced himself to stand up.

He staggered to the full-length mirror and looked himself over. His clothes were neat, his hair was tidy, and his appearance wasn't bad. It wouldn't be shameful to see Yi Zhongming looking like this.

He suddenly smiled, turned around and walked back to the sofa, sitting down heavily. He could vaguely hear a woman crying outside, but he still smiled.

Xiao Meng pushed open the door and came back, bringing with him a chill. He looked at Rong Xiang, as if he wanted to ask something, but ultimately didn't speak.

Rongxiang slowly leaned back: "Give me an injection."

Xiao Meng had called him an hour ago, but he did not hesitate and walked to the table as instructed, lifting the medical gauze on the tray.

The needle pierced the rubber cap of the small glass bottle, drawing out the clear, slightly yellow liquid. One bottle wasn't enough if you wanted to kill someone.

Rong Xiang squinted as he watched Xiao Meng throw the three small glass bottles into the wastebasket under the table. The distance was only a meter, but it felt like a world apart.

He instinctively stretched out his arm and placed it on the sofa armrest, watching as the needle suddenly pierced his skin, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

Xiao Meng pressed a cotton swab against the injection site, then nimbly pulled out the needle. Just as he was about to get up and return it to the tray, he suddenly heard Rong Xiang say softly, "Xiao Meng, you've worked so hard following me all these years. It's a pity..."

Xiao Meng was startled, but when she looked up, she found that Rong Xiang had already fallen into a deep sleep.

He stood up, feeling incredibly relaxed, almost to the point of emptiness. He casually tossed aside the syringe and sat down, letting Rongxiang lean on his shoulder.

"Once he dies, I'll set him on fire and burn him to ashes, then send him back to Fengtian." Thinking of this, he suddenly tilted his head and brought his face close to Rongxiang's head. The warm, short hair touching his cheek gave him a soft, childlike cuteness.

Xiao Meng rubbed her face against his head, feeling very happy. This feeling was so unfamiliar to him, so unfamiliar that he almost burst into tears. He thought that if he could just sit like this forever, quietly, it would be so good, better than ever before.

Xi'an, April 1933.

Lin Fengqing sat casually in the armchair and made her signature pouting gesture at the old troupe leader: "I'm not going!"

The old troupe leader was so anxious his beard trembled: "What trouble are you causing now? I know you're a star and have a temper, but you should at least consider who the other party is, shouldn't you? Besides, why are you so unwilling to go? Earning a month's salary for one performance, what's wrong with that?"

"I hate these parties here. Look at those old men down there, all with their heads shiny and swaying, bringing me all sorts of junk and acting like they're doing me a favor. Pah! A bunch of bumpkins!"

The old troupe leader was so frightened he almost covered the man's mouth: "Can you keep your voice down? In our line of work, we're under someone else's roof, how can we not bow our heads? Can't you just bear with it and get through this? Once the war is over, we can go back to Beiping, can't we?"

Lin Fengqing snorted, stood up, walked to the dressing table, picked up a comb, and threw it at the pearl hair ornament: "Alright, alright, I'll go. But I'll leave as soon as I finish singing; I'm too lazy to argue with those nouveau riche."

The old troupe leader breathed a sigh of relief: "Alright, alright, I'll go talk to them. They can leave right after the performance, okay? My goodness, from now on I'll have to call you my ancestor!"

Lin Fengqing turned her face and glared at him fiercely: "Don't call me ancestor, call me money tree!"

The old troupe leader couldn't afford to offend him now, so he pretended not to hear what he was saying and hurriedly ran out to reply to the soldiers waiting outside.

Lin Fengqing pouted, took a powder puff from the powder box, patted it on her neck twice, and then spread it evenly with her hand. She had just made her face too white, making her neck look dark and yellow. Luckily, no one else saw it.

Xiao Chun, who worked as a handyman, pushed open the door and peeked in timidly, asking, "Boss Lin, is your white fungus soup ready? Shall we eat it now?"

Lin Fengqing waved her hand: "I'm not eating anymore, it's so annoying!"

He was fuming all afternoon, annoyed by the thought of the evening's performance. But no matter how much he fussed, as darkness fell, he was forced to be picked up by a car.

The host of this grand banquet was surnamed Fu, and was said to be one of the most powerful figures in Xi'an. Lin Fengqing, being new to the city, didn't quite understand these things. She just thought that all crows are black, and the more powerful someone was, the less likely they were to be a good person. It wasn't until she was halfway through getting ready backstage that she overheard some details from the servants. It turned out that this banquet was indeed extraordinary; the newly appointed provincial governor, sent by the central government, had just arrived in Xi'an yesterday, and the Fu family was hosting a welcome party for him.

Knowing this, he still subconsciously pursed his lips. So what if he was the provincial governor? Before he left Manchuria, he even sang for the young emperor. Thinking of this, he looked at himself carefully in the mirror again. His made-up face was fair and rosy, his eyes were like water-almonds, and his long eyebrows reached his temples, making him look like a peerless beauty. He glanced at the others next to him. They were considered local stars, but putting aside their voices, their appearance alone was far inferior to his.

Thinking this, he felt smug. When he went on stage, he showed no stage fright whatsoever. After singing "The Drunken Beauty," thunderous applause erupted. As he left, he quickly glanced at the audience and noticed that all the high-ranking officials looked at him with utter infatuation, a whole row of them staring at him like lovesick fools. Only one man in a suit, who had been sitting in the center of the hall, suddenly stood up and walked out from the front row. This man was very tall, and everyone who passed him smiled and nodded at him, stealing most of the spotlight from the "Drunken Beauty" on stage. It was truly infuriating.

Upon arriving backstage, Xiaochun hurriedly brought him tea. He immediately changed his demeanor, first having his arms outstretched to have someone help him remove his costume, then, with a sullen face and indifferent expression, he sat down to remove his makeup. Xiaochun stood guard to the side like a puppy, willingly enduring all of Mr. Lin's orders because she admired him.

They were to leave right after the performance, as agreed beforehand. So when he saw He Mengyan, the head of the security department, rushing backstage, he couldn't help but frown: "He Mengyan, head of security?"

He Mengyan grinned and wouldn't let him leave: "Boss Lin, how about we go grab a late-night snack together?"

Lin Fengqing gave him a charmingly disdainful look: "I'm not feeling well today, how about another day?"

He Mengyan still smiled: "Please do me the honor, Boss Lin!"

Lin Fengqing simply sat down: "Director He, I told you I'm not feeling well today, how about another day?"

He Mengyan's smile faltered: "Everyone says Boss Lin has a bad temper, and seeing him today, it's certainly true."

Lin Fengqing knew his attitude had been a bit too firm, but with someone like He Mengyan, a little kindness was all it took for him to flit around like a fly. Helpless, he softened his voice slightly and said, "I know Director He invited me out of respect, but if Director He really cares about me, he should let me go back and rest first. It's not like I'm leaving tomorrow." He then lowered his eyes sadly, "I don't know why you're fixated on today!"

Upon hearing this, He Mengyan immediately smiled again: "It seems I was rash. Mr. Lin, are you leaving already? Let me take you home."

Lin Fengqing thought for a moment and said, "Alright, then I won't stand on ceremony with you."

As the group walked out of the backstage area and was about to exit through the side gate, someone suddenly caught up from behind and shouted, "Old He! Madam He is looking for you!"

Upon hearing this, He Mengyan immediately shrank back in fright. It turned out that he was notoriously afraid of his wife. If Madam He found out that he was taking an actress home, she would probably tear him apart on the spot. He awkwardly turned around and muttered to the person who came, "Wasn't she playing cards with someone? Why is she looking for me again?"

Lin Fengqing had seen it all, and seeing his reaction, she guessed the reason. She couldn't help but smile: "If Director He has something to do, don't worry about me."

He Mengyan turned around and looked at him with difficulty: "My um..."

Lin Fengqing pouted: "I know, there's trouble in the backyard! Hurry up and go."

As soon as he finished speaking, the person who brought the news chuckled. He Mengyan was even more embarrassed and hurried away. Lin Fengqing turned to leave when he suddenly heard the person behind him say, "I saw your performance back in Fengtian."

Hearing this, he couldn't very well ignore her, so he turned around and said, "Really? That's quite a coincidence. May I ask who you are...?"

"Fu Jingyuan".

"Oh... I've heard so much about you."

Fu Jingyuan waved his hand: "Don't lie to me. You've only been in Xi'an for a short time, how come you've heard so much about me? I don't believe my reputation is that great, that it would spread from Xi'an all the way to Manchuria."

His words were so unexpected that Lin Fengqing stopped in her hurry to leave: "Mr. Fu is quite honest!"

Fu Jingyuan shook his head: "You're too kind. If you stood on the stage and looked down, did you really see a single honest person?"

Lin Fengqing felt that this was a difficult question to answer, so she smiled.

"Never mind, Old He ran away. I'll have the driver take you home."

Lin Fengqing felt that this person was quite different from others, so she simply stopped being polite and said, "If Mr. Fu has time in the future, please come and support me."

He assumed that Fu Jingyuan would readily accept the invitation from such a famous opera singer. However, Fu Jingyuan hesitated for a moment and said, "Actually, I'm not a big fan of Peking Opera. But you look beautiful on stage, so I'll definitely go see you."

Lin Fengqing was a little amused and exasperated: "Well... it's up to you whether you watch it or not, I'm leaving now."

"Take care on your journey. Goodbye."

Lin Fengqing casually said "Welcome to the show," and to her surprise, she saw Fu Jingyuan in the audience the next evening at the Tianhe Theater. He was tall and had a respectable appearance, so he was easily recognized in the crowd. For some reason, Lin Fengqing suddenly found it amusing, and a smile involuntarily appeared on her face.

After the performance ended, the old troupe leader rushed in and said that someone was waiting outside. Lin Fengqing thought it was some nouveau riche with a shiny shin, and was about to get angry when the old troupe leader quickly added, "This is the director of the city police station. We can't afford to offend him."

Lin Fengqing's mind raced: "Was he a tall guy in a suit?"

"yes."

He breathed a sigh of relief, and while changing his clothes, he waved his hand and said, "I understand, let him wait."

Even so, he subconsciously sped up his movements.

As he walked out of the theater's back door, he immediately spotted Fu Jingyuan standing by the car. Fu Jingyuan's expression was normal at first, but upon seeing him, he seemed to suddenly remember something and smiled as he said, "Boss Lin, how about we go for a late-night snack together?" His accent and tone were exactly the same as He Mengyan's.

Lin Fengqing was taken aback, then burst into laughter. He was actually twenty-three years old this year, but his expression and demeanor still resembled that of a teenager, making him seem much younger: "You heard that yesterday?"

Fu Jingyuan hesitated for a moment: "Actually, Madam He didn't want to see Old He. If he rashly goes and disturbs his wife's mahjong game, he'll probably get beaten up."

"Oh...you-------you really are---" Lin Fengqing suddenly realized that it was he who had deliberately helped her yesterday, and she felt embarrassed for a moment. Fu Jingyuan opened the car door and gestured for her to enter: "Please do me the honor, Mr. Lin!"

Lin Fengqing found Fu Jingyuan really amusing, so she didn't hesitate any longer and got into the car.

The two went to Putian Restaurant for dinner. They chatted happily at the table. Lin Fengqing had met many young masters, but he had never met anyone like Fu Jingyuan. Clearly, he was a learned and intelligent man, and even when he was joking, he never uttered a vulgar or obscene word.

As the meal drew to a close, Lin Fengqing couldn't help but say, "I never expected to meet such an elegant and interesting person as Mr. Fu in Xi'an."

"Am I funny? Actually, you mean I don't say those hypocritical and pretentious polite words, right?" Fu Jingyuan had drunk a little, and although he wasn't drunk, he was slightly tipsy.

"The fact that you don't use insincere and pretentious polite words is already very interesting. I have traveled to many places and met many people, but you are the only one as frank and straightforward as Mr. Fu."

"That's too high a compliment. But I really hate lying, but I'm being pressured from all sides, so I have to tell you. Do you know why I sat in the audience all night even though I don't like opera? Because I like you--------- Don't laugh, you should know that if I didn't like you, I wouldn't have waited for you after the show--------- As for the reason, I could tell from the moment you rejected He Mengyan last night that you're a little clever, and it's the healthy, cute kind of cleverness."

Lin Fengqing laughed: "You overheard my conversation with him a long time ago? And are you praising me?"

Fu Jingyuan laughed too: "I misused my words, I'm sorry. I just wanted to say that you are a very cute person. My life is very dull right now, and I can't see any way out. So seeing you makes me feel a little brighter. Also, please don't be offended by what I'm saying, but your eyes are very similar to the eyes of one of my ex-lovers, both of them are very clear."

So many people praised his appearance that Lin Fengqing's curiosity was focused on another word: "Former lover? Why couldn't they be together?"

Fu Jingyuan sighed: "Because we don't share the same interests. People who aren't on the same path can't work together no matter how hard they try."

"She got married?"

The other person looked up at him and smiled, then suddenly changed the subject: "Let's not talk about this anymore. How about I take you for a drive?"

Half a month later, Lin Fengqing had become completely powerful in Xi'an. People like He Mengyan no longer dared to visit him, because they knew that he was now being pampered and protected by Fu Jingyuan, and was like a pampered flower.

Hearing those rumors, Lin Fengqing just chuckled to himself. In truth, his relationship with Fu Jingyuan was completely innocent; it wasn't as messy as the rumors made it out to be. However, he was never afraid of rumors. To him, the more people spread them, the more it enhanced his reputation, which was a good thing.

As for Fu Jingyuan, he secretly felt that Fu Jingyuan seemed a bit infatuated. He had spent a lot of money and time on him, yet he hadn't taken any further action, as if he wanted to maintain this platonic relationship. When the two met, it was nothing more than Fu Jingyuan venting and chatting idly, while Lin Fengqing's task was simply to be a seemingly lively and cheerful listener.

That day, the two were having a lively discussion at the Fu family's residence when a servant hurried over, bent down, and whispered, "Xiao Meng has brought the order. Would you like to review it first, or send it directly to the accounting office so that Master Ding can settle the accounts for last quarter tomorrow?"

Fu Jingyuan hesitated for a moment, then said, "Call him in, I need to take a look at the list." He then turned to Lin Fengqing and said, "Wait a minute, I have something to do."

Light footsteps sounded outside the door, and a young man walked in. He first bowed respectfully to Fu Jingyuan and said, "Hello, Mr. Fu." Then he presented a stack of papers with both hands.

Fu Jingyuan bowed and took the injection, carefully examining it before frowning immediately. "Four hundred and fifty injections in three months? Is this for humans or elephants? What did Dr. Seryozha say last month? Didn't he tell him to control the dosage as much as possible? Go back and tell him I asked him if he still wants to get better." He grew increasingly angry. "And you, he's confused right now, and you're making all the decisions. And you, you just go along with his whims. Don't you have any opinions of your own? Never mind, I know it's useless to talk to you. You never listen to anyone except him. In short, go back and find him when he's clear-headed, and tell him that if it's any other expense, I'll cover whatever it takes; but if he takes the money and keeps injecting himself to death, don't blame me for being stingy! How has he been these past few days?"

"fine."

Lin Fengqing looked up at the boy with some curiosity, wanting to see what kind of person could remain indifferent under such strong criticism.

However, upon seeing his face clearly, he was so surprised he almost cried out—he recognized him! Wasn't he Rongxiang's lackey? Back when Rongxiang and he were close, this guy named Xiao Meng always stood guard outside the bedroom door, making him quite embarrassed. In fact, he had a fairly deep impression of this person because he looked somewhat immature, like a boy on his thirties, but his attitude was always serious, as if he had no feelings.

Xiao Meng is Rong Xiang's man, so why is he being scolded by Fu Jingyuan? He doesn't know much about Rong Xiang's current situation either. His impression of this man is still from the Fengtian era. Speaking of which, when he led his troops to withdraw from Manchuria, he didn't even say goodbye, which can be considered heartless and ungrateful. But when he thinks about the good things Rong Xiang did for him, he always feels that Rong Xiang must have had his own reasons for doing so, so subconsciously he can't bring himself to resent him.

Lin Fengqing's mind raced for a moment, and she instantly made up her mind. She deliberately got up and walked over to Xiao Meng, scrutinizing her closely from head to toe, then exclaimed in surprise, "Hey, aren't you...that Xiao Meng?"

Fu Jingyuan asked in surprise, "You know him?"

Xiao Meng was also puzzled, because he couldn't remember Lin Fengqing at all. Rong Xiang had always been a playboy, having been with countless famous actresses. Xiao Meng had seen so many of them that he felt they all looked the same—handsome men with effeminate features, making it difficult to distinguish one from another. Lin Fengqing's past was so distant that he couldn't even recall her. He glanced at Lin Fengqing indifferently, then turned to leave.

Unexpectedly, Lin Fengqing added with a grin, "How is Third Master Rong doing now?"

Fu Jingyuan was even more puzzled: "You know him?" After saying that, he suddenly realized what he had said, and his heart felt sour and unpleasant, as if it had been soaked in vinegar.

Xiao Meng couldn't go on either. He hesitated for a moment, then answered with great difficulty, "It's okay."

Where is he now?

Xiao Meng stopped in her tracks, neither moving nor answering. Fu Jingyuan's brow furrowed deeply: "He's in Xi'an too—Xiao Meng, you should go first—Feng Qing, you seem to have quite a relationship with him."

Lin Fengqing returned to her seat and sat down, pouting playfully: "Of course, we're very close!" Then she glanced at Fu Jingyuan, intending to see if he was jealous, but instead found him looking embarrassed and annoyed, as if he had been stripped naked in public.