Chapter 41: One Heart Illuminates
The heavy wooden door to the study was slowly pushed open, bringing in a blast of cold air.
Su Mengzhen walked in. The scent of agarwood had overpowered the medicinal smell, wafting towards his nose. The desk and bookshelves were simple and elegant, just as he had left them, nothing had changed. The rain was still howling outside, but the study windows hadn't been opened much, so the dampness couldn't get in; only the accumulated coldness of the years remained, not much different from being in the rain.
However, something else had changed. He looked at the large armchair in the corner of the room, Xie Huailing's usual spot, which was covered with thick blue brocade. She was now huddled in the chair, the dark color making her appear even thinner and more frail. Her rain-soaked outer garment was still on, beneath which she wore only a thin, plain-colored inner garment. Her posture was bent, her head bowed low, a wisp of white hair framing her neck, making her resemble a weary bird with wet feathers.
He had the servants remove the stove when he left, but she didn't know to have it brought back, and it ended up like this.
However, Su Mengzhen also knew that showing her too much pity would cause big problems.
However, he still whispered a few words to the outside of the study before closing the door.
The servant, head bowed, carried in the stove, and the embers were rekindled with warmth, the flickering red flames catching the lamp. Su Mengzhen closed the door, and when she turned back, her eyes, hidden behind the dim light, were unfocused, her gaze wandering aimlessly. His footsteps made her move, and she looked up at him.
A hazy light flickered in her eyes again; it was the mist from just waking up, still a little sleepy, making her already vacant gaze appear even more unfocused and weary. Her voice, too, was tinged with confusion, low and soft, like downy feathers scattered by the wind: "You're back?"
Su Mengzhen responded, "Mmm. Sleepy?"
Xie Huailing seemed to take a moment to understand his question. Her gaze lingered on him before she nodded and said, "That's such a cold and boring thing to say. Anyone would be sleepy if they came here. Only you, the host, have such good spirits. In this freezing weather, you can still stand like an ice sculpture." Her tone was flat, without any hint of complaint or coquetry. She curled up even tighter and closed her eyes again.
Su Mengzhen listened without speaking. The chair, representing the power and efficiency of the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, was still behind the desk. He didn't go over to it, his silence deep and heavy. His gaze lingered in the air; he should have been looking at something else, but it didn't fall to the ground. The light in his eyes was dim and unclear, as if he were deep in thought. Finally, he stepped forward, but not to the desk. Instead, he walked to another wooden chair, also thickly cushioned, next to Xie Huailing's and sat down.
Between them were only the armrests of two chairs. Neither of them spoke; apart from the sounds of the wind and rain, the only sound they could hear was each other's breathing.
Xie Huailing kept his eyes tightly closed, and he knew that Xie Huailing had not fallen asleep again; he remained silent, and he knew that Xie Huailing understood that he had something to say.
This was also a tacit understanding, requiring no emphasis. Time passed second by second, and he remained silent, his eyelashes slightly lowered, as if he were deliberating or sorting out his chaotic thoughts, unfathomable, adding to the invisible pressure. Two red candles burned on top of the wooden cabinet directly opposite, their wax dripping as they waited.
It wasn't until Xie Huailing spoke up, his voice muffled as if floating out, that he asked, "Master, do you know anything that's like a mushroom, that pops up when you press it?"
The questions were often abrupt and unanswered, which was common. Su Mengzhen pressed on, "What?"
Xie Huailing turned her face, tilting her head slightly. She stared at his deep-set eyes and the contours of his face, her eyes only half open. The light from the red candle shone on her eyes, and she calmly and clearly uttered the answer: "It's you, Su Mengzhen."
The chill in the room intensified, not only from the seasonal cold and Su Mengzhen's illness, but also from his speechless, listless state.
Mushroom herself: "..."
Her joke was colder than he was, and looking at her like this, a familiar sense of powerlessness mixed with indescribable emotions spread heavily from the depths of his chest. Because it had happened so many times, he had skipped over the anger part. He understood that she was annoyed by his slow silence, and he sighed heavily. This sigh was long and contained too many complex feelings, sometimes a lingering discomfort with her, and perhaps even self-mockery at himself for sitting there in this situation.
He didn't even have the energy to tell her not to say it again. It was that sentence, "OP, you're quite good at cursing," that was so hurtful that Su Mengzhen was able to remain calm.
He looked at Xie Huailing, who stared at him without blinking. She continued, "So, Master, you should just say what you have to say. You're someone who can't hide your thoughts. As long as you sit next to Master, the sound of firelight burning will be everywhere."
Su Mengzhen opened her lips and asked her, "What makes you say that?"
Xie Huailing glanced at him indifferently and vaguely, her gaze, which seemed to have no fixed point, eventually returned to his eyes, and said, "Has the Master ever examined his own eyes?"
It was rare for their eyes to meet so intensely, and Su Mengzhen felt a lump in his throat. Of course, he had noticed it before, back when—but when was that? It was when they were discussing heroes over wine. He realized now that she was always looking at him, almost intently, and that was right. He had accepted her; she would coexist with his great cause for a long time. Yet, he also realized that he rarely looked at her; sometimes, he would be the one to look away first.
This idea is like some kind of switch.
The feeling of blockage disappeared, and he suddenly said something that seemed unrelated, but it was what he had been wanting to say for so long: "I've been thinking about something these past few days."
Xie Huailing nodded, signaling him to continue.
“About you,” he continued, his tone heavy, “about how to keep you safe and sound in the building, about why you sometimes do certain things.”
With a rare mix of confusion and frankness, Su Mengzhen spoke as he pondered, and it wasn't easy for him to say these words: "In the end, I realized that there's nothing I can do about you."
He finally revealed the truth that he had been keeping to himself for several days.
"Hmm." Xie Huailing responded this time, neither pleased nor sarcastic, simply acknowledging a fact she had long known, as if to say, "See, you finally figured it out. It's like this, absolutely right, OP, I'm the kind of person you can't handle the most, right?"
"The most difficult to handle? No, Xie Huailing, you're much more troublesome than that." Su Mengzhen suddenly became sharp. "You're the kind of person I've never met before."
The answer was as heavy as a mountain. Who was he? Su Mengzhen, the master of the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, a giant in the righteous path of the martial arts world, with countless capable and extraordinary people under his command, having handled countless complex situations and dealt with countless cunning opponents, the number one among his peers in the martial arts world. But the person in front of him was beyond his experience. This was not a matter of strength or loyalty, but a matter of completely different ways of being.
Even as they talked, his authority remained as imposing as a mountain, as unstoppable as a vast ocean: "And in the end, it all boils down to just one sentence..."
Xie Huailing suddenly interrupted, "You don't understand me, and you don't want to understand me, that's all."
This sentence hits the nail on the head.
Su Mengzhen's eyes dimmed. He could deduce from her slightest expression what astonishing thing she might say next, and he could even keenly perceive her subtle emotional changes, but none of this could be considered true understanding.
He looked at her. He looked at her expression, which at this moment seemed to think that this was also understandable. It was like a meticulous painting. He could see every line clearly, but he had never grasped the spirit that made up the painting and flowed under the brushstrokes.
All the conflicts originate from here.
The red candle burned halfway down, the wax turned to ash, and Xie Huailing continued, "Mingming doesn't really understand me, so how can she possibly defend herself? Mingming doesn't really want to understand me either, keeping her boundaries, it would be strange if she could do anything to me. But, Master, this isn't anything important."
She said, "Do I understand you? I don't quite understand either. Do I want to understand you? That would be too ambiguous. All I know is that you live like a working human machine, the heart of the Golden Wind and Fine Rain Pavilion, the 'Red Sleeve Blade' that everyone relies on. I know you're tired, I know you're embroiled in trouble and on the verge of collapse, I know you're very, very sick, but I know nothing else. But as long as I understand what you want, that's enough."
As shadows shifted, Xie Huailing sighed softly, as if a faint fragrance wafted through the air: "Why be so clear-headed? Getting caught up in the details won't lead to any answers, and things will only get more complicated, Master. You're good to your brothers, but I'm not one of your brothers, and I don't need you to treat me like one—I'll just stick to being a woman—besides, I can't change my personality, so this is fine."
He quickly retorted, "I have no intention of making you change."
Only the faint red glow of the last embers before the charcoal fire in the stove went completely out remained in the study. A chill once again seeped in, enveloping the two of them. The red candle cast shadows, its bright light dancing on the wall, as they leaned against each other, behind one another.
“You’re right. I don’t understand you, and I never thought I would understand you before.” Su Mengzhen admitted it frankly. He had boundaries with her, just as she had arrogance with him, without any pretense. “But your origins, your thoughts, and your desires are all shrouded in mist, rooted here. If I only block them without guiding them, it will all be in vain.”
Retreating in the face of difficulty was not his style; this was an unquestionable decision, because she was none other than anyone else in his life. She came from beyond the heavens, from across the water, drawn to him, and brought under his command. He could not remain ignorant, letting her forever remain a kite in the sky. Since they had met once, it should surpass countless encounters on earth.
His words were a formal notification, an unquestionable decision: "So there's no need to change it. But Xie Huailing, now that you're in this situation, the agreement of mutual trust means you can't remain hidden in the fog forever."
Su Mengzhen leaned forward slightly, and the oppressive feeling emanating from his frail body reached its peak at that moment:
"I will entrust both the ending of Wuzheng Manor and the sneak attack on Liufenbantang on the same day to you. At that time, your name will be known to everyone in Bianjing, and the matter of you and me discussing over wine will be completely irreversible from now on."
“From now on, if you don’t tell me, I’ll see for myself; if you’re unwilling to talk, I’ll guess for myself; if you’re too lazy to deal with it, I’ll find out for myself. I’m determined to do this.”
Xie Huailing was startled. She blinked, her eyes blank, revealing nothing. Then she looked away. A very brief moment later, she looked back, as if she were back on that evening atop the Yellow Building, the sunset infinitely beautiful, just like every day that followed.
"Whatever you want." Xie Huailing mumbled three words, as if discarding an insignificant trinket, and then closed her eyes completely, as if Su Mengzhen had never spoken to her.
She really wanted to sleep, or perhaps the day was coming to an end and she was truly exhausted.
She leaned back in her chair, silent, in the flickering light of the flames. There was no charcoal in the stove, and there was someone else in the study; she could have fallen asleep there. She heard the rain getting heavier, and the door opened again.
Someone came and added charcoal to the fire, closed the door, and a cloak fell on her.
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