Chapter 5 She doesn't remember him, and...
During Chu Song's month-long business trip, Xie Tang spun around like a top.
After a heated debate in court, he went straight to the old house to oversee the construction after the recess.
When the door was opened, dust swirled in the sunlight.
Her bedroom was transformed into a storage room filled with old things, and an unfamiliar grand piano was placed in her grandfather's study.
"Tear it all down." She handed the yellowed photos to the designer. "It needs to be restored to its original state."
In the photo, an elderly man is teaching a little girl to play chess under a balcony covered in wisteria vines.
The smell of disinfectant lingered in the hospital corridor.
Xie Shuang's new ward faces south, so the sunlight shines on the corners of the blankets.
When Xie Tang put the spare toothbrush into the bathroom, she saw the caregiver adjusting the IV drip rate.
"Any news about a match?" she asked softly.
"You'll have to wait a little longer." The nurse handed over a stack of receipts.
Xie Tang's signature was so clear it seemed to penetrate the paper—VIP ward, special care, imported medicine—all the options were checked.
It was Friday, and the wind outside the police station carried the chill of early autumn. Xie Tang pulled his suit jacket tighter around himself.
Your phone vibrates; a message from Tong Lan pops up: [Attorney Xie! President Chu invited you to dinner, but it turns out you haven't even added him on WeChat!]
Xie Tang stared at the screen for a few seconds before realizing that she had been busy with the lawsuit, overseeing the renovations, and arranging her mother's treatment for the past month, completely forgetting about the other party in the marriage agreement.
She quickly sent a screenshot of the takeout order she had placed for her mother to the caregiver, her fingers rapidly typing on the screen: "Could you give me Song Ge's WeChat?"
The friend request was accepted almost instantly.
The "Typing..." message flashes for three seconds above the chat box, then a concise address pops up:
[Wing Kee Hong Kong Style, 7 PM.]
Xie Tang was considering her reply when a second message popped up: "Send me your location."
She instinctively gripped her phone tighter, recalling Chu Song's impatient expression outside the Civil Affairs Bureau a month ago: "No need to trouble yourself, I'll go by myself."
The dialog box fell silent.
She stared at the cold "hmm" and suddenly felt a pang of regret—in the villa that was being restored, there was still a seashell wind chime he had given her when she was a child.
Rongji's gilded plaque gleamed faintly in the twilight.
When Xie Tang arrived, the eye-catching black Maybach was already parked in its designated spot.
She saw Chu Song sitting in the driver's seat and knocked on the car window.
The car window slowly rolled down, and the reflection from Chu Song's watch momentarily dazzled her.
At 7:15, he tapped his fingertips lightly on the steering wheel.
"Sorry, there was a traffic jam..."
"Hmm." Chu Song didn't say much, and went straight to open the car door, stepping out with his well-tailored suit trousers covering his long legs.
He looked at the waiter and said, "The usual seat."
The waiter bowed 15 degrees more than when greeting other guests.
In the private room separated by a mahogany screen, the steam from Longjing tea wafted between the two people sitting opposite each other.
Chu Song's action of loosening her tie revealed her collarbone.
Xie Tang picked up the teacup, his tongue tingling from the heat.
Chu Song gave her the right to order, letting her choose what she liked to eat.
Tong Lan sent her Chu Song's food preferences in the afternoon, and she ordered according to his preferences, but before she knew it, she had ordered too much.
"Is it to your liking?" He glanced at the menu she had just put down, which was full of dishes that he had ordered according to his taste.
Xie Tang smiled and said, "I'm not a picky eater."
"Really?" Chu Song remembered that she particularly disliked eating green vegetables when she was a child, and would pick out all kinds of green vegetables.
"Have you been enjoying your stay at my place these past few days?"
"It's great." She lives a very comfortable life in a luxurious villa with a nanny to cook for her. Even when Aunt Yu makes brown sugar water for her period, she remembers to add ginger.
"Just tell Aunt Yu if you need anything."
"good."
Chu Song's gaze suddenly fell on the corner of her lawyer's robe peeking out from her paper bag.
He met her before deciding to marry her.
That day, he and Fu Xiu were in the courtroom's public gallery. She was dressed in a black lawyer's robe, standing in the plaintiff's seat, her words sharp and incisive.
Sunlight streamed obliquely through the high windows of the courtroom, landing on her slightly raised chin.
At that moment, Chu Song vaguely saw her as a child—
A little girl with pigtails stood under the wisteria trellis, hands on her hips, yelling at the kid next door, "You dare touch my wind chimes again!"
The old men would often shake their heads while holding their teapots, saying, "This girl's mouth is sharper than a knife."
"He'll definitely be a great lawyer someday."
“With a temperament like that…” the old butler poured tea into their cups, “who will be able to control him in the future?”
"It doesn't necessarily mean you have to get married..." Old Master Qin said with a smile.
Chu Song lowered his eyes, and the tea leaves in the cup slowly sank to the bottom.
The seashell wind chimes she desperately protected were a birthday gift he made while staying up all night.
After the court adjourned that day, she stood alone by the window in the corridor, drinking mineral water.
He wanted to go over and say hello, but Fu Xiu came over instead, saying, "I'm leaving."
He glanced at Xie Tang, the little girl who stood under the wisteria and argued with someone twenty years ago. Even now, though she has learned to use legal statutes instead of her childhood sharp tongue, the sharpness in her bones has never disappeared.
She simply learned to sheath her blade, just as she always kept her favorite lemon candy in the deepest pocket of her lawyer's robe.
She's the one.
The teacup was placed back on the table with a very soft sound.
"This steamed fish is quite good."
He spoke softly, turning the grouper on the turntable in front of her. Its eyes remained stubbornly open, like someone who refused to admit defeat.
Xie Tang stared at the pair of fish eyes, unsure of what to think, and slowly looked away.
"Attorney Xie."
The line drawn by that title made Xie Tang instinctively straighten her back and get into work mode.
She placed her hands on the table, revealing the focused expression she had when listening to the defendant's statement in court.
Chu Song's Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he was stared at by those overly clear eyes.
The tea swished around in my throat before finally calming the inexplicable restlessness.
“Now that we’re married,” he said, adopting the expression he always wore at the negotiating table, “we have to maintain appearances in public.”
Each word is like a meticulously crafted legal provision.
Xie Tang mentally dissected each sentence—what he didn't say was his evaluation of her clothing, his dissatisfaction with her career choice, and his blame for not cooperating well in this marriage drama.
“I understand.” She raised the corners of her mouth, the perfect smile she only showed when facing her most formidable opponent. “From now on, I will be careful to play the role of your wife well in public and in private, and I will not embarrass you.”
The teacup was placed heavily back on the tray.
Chu Song stared at the plain ring on her ring finger, the wave pattern on the inner circle disappearing into her palm as she closed her fingers.
He suddenly remembered that day in court, when she had also smiled and rendered her opponent speechless.
He was telling her not to be so reserved, but she treated him like an opponent.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he nipped it in the bud.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and the phrase "No need to be so nervous" took a turn on his tongue, turning into a businesslike tone: "We're having a family dinner this weekend, so just wear whatever you're comfortable in."
Xie Tang paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just nodded: "Okay."
As dusk settled outside the window, the glass reflected the distant shadows of the two figures.
Chu Song looked at her blurry silhouette in the glass and remembered what Old Master Qin always said before he passed away—
"That girl is like a hedgehog. The more you try to get close, the more she curls up into a ball."
After finishing her meal, Xie Tang followed Chu Song and passed by the front desk. She saw candy on a tray for customers.
Her fingertips hovered above the candy tray for half a second before precisely picking up three lemon candies.
Chu Song stood three steps away, watching her put the candy in her mouth, her cheeks puffing out slightly.
This scene overlapped with a certain afternoon from the depths of his memory.
Seven-year-old Xie Tang sat on the steps of the Chu family's old house, squinting as she secretly ate lemon candy, her hair still covered with dandelion fluff from her fight with Chu Li.
When she turned her head, she saw Chu Song looking at her with a complicated expression.
"Want some?" Another candy lay in her palm, the wrapper shimmering like shattered diamonds.
Chu Song's gaze shifted from her powdered fingertips to her eyes.
Before he could speak, she withdrew her hand. "Sorry, you don't like snacks."
The returned candy was stuck in her palm.
"Who said that?"
Warm fingertips brushed across her palm, sending a slight shiver through her.
Chu Song slowly unwrapped the candy, and shards of gold foil fell between her still-open fingers.
The moment the tartness of lemon explodes on the tip of the tongue, I don't know if it's the frosting of sugar or the unspoken regrets of my youth.
He remembered the locked drawer in the study.
Hidden inside was the birthday gift she was unable to give him back then: a jar of lemon candy in the same packaging.
He didn't eat a single candy, but he kept the wrappers, which had oxidized and turned yellow, with the edges so brittle they were about to crumble.
I was so naive when I was a child.
Knowing full well that the sweetness of those days cannot be preserved, I still stubbornly keep it to this day.
"Let's go." He walked ahead of her, shielding her from the cool night breeze.
——————
Xie Tang fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Half-dry hair left dark watermarks on the goose down pillow, and eyelashes cast two tired shadows under the eyes.
Chu Song stood at the door, watching the moonlight stream through the French windows, shattering the Ferris wheel's colorful lights into fragments that fell onto her blanket.
The lemon candy I brought back from the restaurant was still on the bedside table.
He silently placed the jewelry box and gift box next to the candy wrappers.
The gift box contained a seashell wind chime made by an Italian craftsman, exactly the same as the one she had carefully held in her arms before it was smashed.
It's unclear when exactly, but Chu Song developed a habit of always bringing gifts when traveling for business.
It was Chu Yun who taught him: "When you come back, you should always bring something with you. It doesn't matter if it's expensive or not, it's the thought that counts."
In those years, his suitcase was always stuffed with all sorts of little trinkets—a Suzhou embroidery scarf, a Venetian glass paperweight, Hokkaido-limited cherry blossom candy…
Then one day, these carefully selected gifts suddenly disappeared.
Until now.
Looking at the sleeping profile of the woman on the bedside table, Chu Song recalled the time when she was eight years old and the two of them had a fight.
He forgot why, but he remembered that the hibiscus was in full bloom that year, and she stormed out of the Chu family's gate, the rabbit keychain in her backpack swaying back and forth.
He prepared an apology gift for her, but she never came.
Later, he went to the Qin family with gifts, only to find that the wisteria trellis had been dismantled.
The apology gift he prepared was never given.
Thirteen years passed since they parted ways. When they met again at the airport, he recognized her at a glance.
But she remembers nothing.
I don't remember him, nor do I remember their childhood experiences.
The air conditioning was blowing cold air onto her exposed ankles.
Chu Song's hand hovered above the temperature control panel before finally withdrawing it.
She is very sensitive to heat and dislikes sweating.
A note from the author:
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Tonight, I took a friend to the subway station and saw some pineapples for sale. I didn't have much of an appetite, so I bought a pineapple to take home.
Fortunately, I have plenty of drafts saved up. I don't have the energy to write during the day, but I can update on time at night. It's another day of trying to update!
I was quite surprised to see a reader's comment today, but I'm mostly happy (〃'▽'〃). What a coincidence! I hope to work hard to write this story well.
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