Song Qingmo was a little nervous in the car. He tried to sit as far away from Mu Hengshi as possible. Mu Hengshi didn't say anything. Instead, he felt that Song Qingmo was quite tactful and knew that he disliked him. But he couldn't show it.
There was an eerie silence between the carriages. The driver, looking at the newlyweds, felt that the rumors were wrong. The young master of the Mu family and the young master Song were not as loving as people said. However, he decided to drive his car carefully. After all, how many of these wealthy families were sincere? It was just an illusion created for profit.
When Song Qingmo and Mu Hengshi returned to their new house, it was getting dark and all the parents had gone back, leaving only Song Qingmo and Mu Hengshi there.
Song Qingmo was tired after a long day, and Mu Hengshi did not make things difficult for him. He let him go to his room to wash up and rest for a while. Song Qingmo tactfully went to the guest room, and he didn't dare to move into the master bedroom.
Mu Hengshi married him partly for profit and partly to keep her virginity to Wen Zhiling.
Song Qingmo took out the clothes he had prepared in the cloakroom in the guest room, casually took out a bathrobe and went into the bathroom. Song Qingmo looked at his bright and beautiful self in the mirror, shook his head, and seemed to be sighing about something, and was slightly absent-minded.
…
When Song Qingmo came out of the shower, Mu Hengshi was gone. He casually glanced around the villa's garden, living room, and other rooms, but there was no one in sight. The entire villa was empty, with only Song Qingmo left. Song Qingmo wondered where Mu Hengshi had gone. What if Mu's mother... Oh, no, now I should call her... Mom. Song Qingmo found it difficult to say it out loud. Besides his father and mother, he had never addressed anyone else so affectionately.
Mu Hengshi was gone, and Song Qingmo no longer felt constrained. He looked at the room's decoration, which was based on Mu Hengshi's preferences. Song Qingmo's style leaned towards the ancient style, and when combined with Mu Hengshi's monotonous and slightly plain style, it was a bit out of place, hard to describe.
Therefore, Song Qingmo did not make it difficult for the designer to mix two completely different styles together. He just asked him to decorate it according to Mu Hengshi's preferences.
The more he looked at it, the more unhappy he became. If he had known this earlier, he would not have bothered. Now in this deserted room, Song Qingli felt a little uncomfortable. Although he always looked uninterested outside, this was his home after all. It turned out to be too hasty.
Song Qingmo felt deeply regretful in his heart, while Mu Hengshi went to a cemetery. The cemetery was very quiet, with green grass and flowers beside it. A little further away, you could see some lush green bamboos. Mu Hengshi knew that Wen Zhiling was from Yuncheng, so he arranged for someone to send a few cups of soil from Yuncheng early on.
Mu Hengshi's impression of Wen Zhiling was that he preferred quiet and peaceful places, and his favorite plant was bamboo. Therefore, he specifically selected such a cemetery for his burial. Wen Zhiling's body was never found after he jumped into the river. Wen Zhiling had no relatives in China, and no one would hold a funeral for him. So, Mu Hengshi purchased a cemetery for him and buried him in his native soil.
Wen Zhiling left Mu Hengshi very little before his death, and the cenotaph he built for him could only contain a few meager relics. The only thing Mu Hengshi left behind was a self-portrait of Wen Zhiling, a self-portrait with an angelic smile. Somehow, Xiaoling had framed it, keeping it spotless and well-preserved. He must have loved it immensely.
In his mind, Wen Zhiling was a sweet, gentle little boy. But even this boy, who loved swings and a balcony filled with flowers, was a bit conservative, preferring the idea of returning to one's roots and leaning towards Chinese traditions. Oh, and he seemed to enjoy painting... Xiaoling must have drawn this self-portrait himself, since he had one of the same kind. He wondered when Wen Zhiling had discovered that he often practiced piano on the piano stand in the garden as a child. He must have told him. A happy smile filled Mu Heng's face at the thought.
That's right, it was the painting Mu Heng had thrown away earlier. When he threw it away, his head suddenly started to hurt. He then remembered when Song Qingmo had learned to paint. Shouldn't this be a painting Wen Zhiling had drawn for him? His trembling hands picked it up from the trash can again, wiped off the dust on it, and then held it in his arms.
Fortunately, he remembered and didn't make a mistake and throw it away. Otherwise, he and Wen Zhiling would have lost a piece of their pitiful memories. Mu Hengshi breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.
He took out the two paintings, slowly knelt on one knee in front of Wen Zhiling's tombstone, and gently placed the lilies he had prepared for a long time in front of him. He took out a red plush square box from his suit pocket, opened it and found a pair of brand new diamond rings. The diamond ring that Song Qingmo had put on Mu Hengshi's ring finger was thrown away. Looking closely, these discarded diamond rings were very similar to the pair in the box, but not as exquisite and shining as the one in the box.
"That person doesn't deserve to wear a diamond ring for me. You are my only lifelong partner. Xiaoling, today is our wedding night, and it's also the beginning of Song Qingmo's nightmare. I'll make them pay. Just wait." Mu Hengshi gently stroked the photo of Wen Zhiling on the tombstone, his eyes soft and tender. But when looking at the photo of Wen Zhiling, Mu Hengshi didn't know why Lao Zhang would recall Song Qingmo's embarrassed, nervous and shy face when he put the diamond ring on her today.
…
On the wedding night, Mu Hengshi never came back, so Song Qingmo had some peace and quiet. When it was almost night, the new housekeepers and servants came to the villa, but were turned away by Song Qingmo. He asked them to take two more days off and still receive their wages. Suddenly, the housekeepers and servants looked at Song Qingmo who was blocking the door of the villa, and their eyes changed. The lady was really considerate and gentle.
Song Qingmo accepted the admiring glances these people cast at him with a forced smile. Inwardly, he was laughing heartily. This trick worked like a charm. If he used it on Song Xingwu, it would surely work just as well. Just imagine, how would you respond if you gave a worker a holiday? Naturally, he'd just slip away, grinning.
After those people looked at Song Qingmo with gratitude and reluctantly left, he closed the door and began his own world. He wandered around the garden, but the more he looked, the more he felt something was wrong. He felt that the garden seemed to be missing something, yes, his favorite swing. Song Qingmo wanted to call the housekeeper immediately, but his eyes rolled, thinking that it would be unfair to pull someone back after just giving them a holiday. He could only wait a few more days. Thinking of this, Song Qingmo was like a deflated ball, walking listlessly, missing home on the first day he moved out!
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