Chapter 10
Fortunately, it’s the weekend and I don’t have to stay in school.
I found a flower arranging studio and spent the whole afternoon in the room. Looking at my own lotus flower arrangement works, my mood finally improved and I couldn't help but smile gently.
The weekend sunshine shines gently through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows into the quiet and elegant floral studio.
The air was filled with the mixed scent of moist soil, fresh grass and light flowers, like an invisible hand, gently smoothing out the wrinkled mood of the past few days.
Having escaped from the suffocating atmosphere and the ever-present scrutiny of the Ice Emperor, I can finally breathe deeply and freely in this peaceful world.
She had deliberately chosen a lavender ankle-length skirt. The soft silk was delicately embroidered with images of bamboo in gold thread. The color accentuated her fair complexion, and the hem was just the right length to conceal the few shallow scars on her legs that hadn't fully healed.
I don’t want anyone, including myself, to see those marks that represent unpleasantness again.
I spent almost the entire afternoon immersed in the gentle guidance of the flower arrangement teacher.
My fingertips touch the dewy petals and tough stems, feeling the veins of life unfolding in my hands.
I discarded all elaborate and ornate techniques, following the tranquility I most desire in my heart at this moment, selecting only a few graceful lotus buds, a few unfurling lotus leaves, and a few graceful dead branches. There is no deliberate stacking, only the most authentic combination and blank space.
When the last slightly curled dead branch was gently inserted into the ancient pottery vase, the whole work instantly gained a soul.
The graceful lotus flowers are in bud, like the unspoken thoughts of a young girl; the stretched lotus leaves are a gentle protection; and the strong dead branches give the tree a quiet strength after weathering the frost.
The whole picture is elegant and ethereal, with a sense of Zen that is free from all worldly desires.
I looked at my work quietly.
My tense nerves relaxed unconsciously, and the frustration, grievance, anger and the cold "you don't deserve it" that had been accumulating in my chest for days seemed to be washed away and melted away by the fragrance filling the room and the tranquil beauty before my eyes.
A long-lost, heartfelt, gentle smile, like a newly opened lotus petal, quietly crept up the corner of his mouth. The sunlight fell on his side face, softening the usual coldness and coating it with a layer of tranquility.
"How beautiful..." He whispered to himself, to the flowers and also to himself, feeling the peace he had finally found.
Just as I was about to turn around and say goodbye to the flower arrangement teacher who was nodding with a smile, the quaint wooden door of the studio was gently pushed open, and the wind chimes hanging on the door made a crisp and pleasant ding-dong sound.
Subconsciously looking in the direction of the sound——
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
The figure standing against the light at the doorway was tall and straight, wearing a well-tailored casual suit, and his silver-gray hair looked like flowing platinum under the outline of the sunlight.
That handsome face that was always filled with "gorgeousness" and "control" now had a barely perceptible daze, as if it had strayed into a fairyland.
Atobe Keigo!
How could it be him?!
How could this flower arrangement studio hidden deep in the alley, with such a simple and natural style, be related to him?!
In an instant, his words "You don't deserve it!" in the restaurant yesterday, which were like an icy spike, and her own shameful, silent tears, came back to her mind like a tide. The gentle smile on her face froze instantly, as if it was thrown into an ice cellar, and a trace of embarrassment and awkwardness quickly crept into her heart.
Almost instinctively, he quickly lowered his head, his long eyelashes drooping, covering up any emotions that might be revealed.
Your fingers unconsciously pinched the hem of your skirt, your fingertips feeling slightly cold. You pretended to concentrate on fiddling with the angle of the dead branch in the vase, hoping he didn't notice you in the corner, or better yet, turned and left immediately.
Don't come over here...
Don't look over here...
Don't talk either...
Just pretend you didn't see me...
I prayed silently in my heart.
Every time I saw him, it was either a tense argument, suffocating humiliation, or the lingering feeling of humiliation brought by cold cash and high-end Band-Aids.
That pattern of tit-for-tat and mutual harm makes me feel exhausted to the bone.
I don’t know what inexplicable reason will cause us to quarrel again this time. I just want to maintain this hard-earned and brief peace at this moment.
Keigo Atobe really didn't expect to meet Kiriyamagakure here.
He stepped into this studio, which was independently run by an old family gardener and had a style completely different from his usual world, with the original intention of just temporarily escaping from the thoughts that disturbed him.
However, the first scene he saw when he opened the door was like a silent thunder that struck him hard.
In the sunlight by the window, the figure in the lavender dress lowered her head slightly, with a few strands of her long inky black hair sliding down her cheeks.
She was concentrating on looking at the flower arrangement in an ancient ceramic vase in front of her - a few graceful lotus buds, a few stretched lotus leaves, and a few strong dead branches.
Simple, yet possessing a tranquil power that touches the soul.
What made his heart stop even more was the smile on her face that he had never seen before, which was as gentle as melting ice and snow.
The sunlight outlined her soft profile, dispelling all the coldness and alienation, leaving only a kind of almost holy tranquility. At that moment, she was breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful that Atobe Keigo felt a palpitation that was almost suffocating.
He had seen her calm and composed, her cold and contemptuous look, her stubborn and angry look, and even her fragile and tearful look.
But I never thought that she could have such a gentle, peaceful, indifferent and harmonious side to the nature.
The impact of this picture is far stronger than the tearful photo sent by Oshitari.
It was like a gentle yet extremely sharp knife, instantly cutting through all the defenses he had built up with anger and pride over the past few days, and accurately piercing the softest part of his heart called "regret" and "desire" that he himself dared not touch.
He almost held his breath, his eyes fixed on the figure greedily with an almost distracted concentration, forgetting to move and the purpose of his trip.
At this moment, she seemed to feel his overly intense gaze and raised her head suddenly.
The moment their eyes met.
Keigo Atobe clearly saw the gentle smile on her face fade away quickly like the tide, and was replaced by the familiar coldness and vigilance.
She quickly lowered her head like a frightened butterfly, trying to hide herself.
That instantaneous change was like the cruelest reminder—her gentleness and tranquility were completely destroyed the moment he appeared. And the destroyer was himself.
Sharp pain, coupled with overwhelming regret, gripped his heart once again. It was stronger than yesterday in the restaurant, stronger than ever before. The impact of the tearful photo was magnified a thousandfold by the contrast of seeing it with his own eyes.
He watched her lower her head and fiddle with the branches, her slightly trembling fingertips revealing her inner unrest.
He seemed to clearly hear the silent resistance of "Don't come over", "Don't look at me", and "Don't talk".
"Master Atobe?" The old gardener's gentle voice broke the suffocating silence. He obviously noticed the unusual loss of composure of the young master at the door and the lady in the corner who suddenly became stiff.
The old gardener's eyes shifted subtly between the two of them, with the understanding of someone who had seen a lot in the world.
He stepped forward, breaking the deadlock, his voice soothing and calm: "You're here. What do you think of this lady's work?"
He points to the ceramic vase in front of you, filled with lotus flowers, lotus leaves, and withered branches. "It's elegant and ethereal, quite Zen-like. It doesn't focus on technique, but on the dialogue between the mind and nature. It's rare."
Atobe Keigo was brought back to reality by the old gardener's voice. He forced himself to look away from the figure with his head lowered, as if trying to shrink into the cracks in the ground, and to focus on the vase of flowers.
The lotus flowers are graceful, the lotus leaves are spread out, and the dead branches are vigorous...
It’s a simple combination, yet it exudes a tranquil power that cleanses the soul.
This is indeed beautiful.
A "natural beauty" that he never really understood and that flows through his heart.
And this beauty was created by her.
Looking at the vase of flowers and thinking of her fleeting gentle smile just now, a storm surged in Totoro's heart.
The words "You don't deserve it!" that he roared out in the restaurant with a strong sense of denial, now sounded like the most vicious curse, echoing wildly in his ears and burning his nerves.
He almost blurted it out, his voice raspy and urgent, a tone he himself hadn't even noticed. It was more like an instinctive, clumsy release of his surging emotions:
"No……"
“This isn’t a flower arrangement…”
The moment the words came out of his mouth, Atobe Keigo himself was stunned.
What does he want to say? What does he want to express?
He clearly thought it was beautiful! He was clearly moved by the power of silence!
But why did he say something so negative?
He immediately realized that he had said the wrong thing again. What kind of disastrous misunderstanding would this incoherent and ambiguous denial bring at this moment, in this place where she had just found a little peace, and in her sensitive state?
really--
The moment Kiriyama Yin heard him say, "This is not flower arrangement," her body suddenly stiffened.
The emotions that had just been soothed by Hua Yi were torn apart again. The humiliation, anger, and the stinging feeling brought by the cold "you don't deserve it" instantly wrapped around her like poison ivy.
Not flower arrangement?
Is he mocking my work?
He wants to deprive me of my last bit of peace?
You're even denying my tiny hobbies?!
The immense grievance and anger made me unable to bear it any longer. I didn't even look at the surprise and regret that flashed across his face. My eyes passed him and fell on the door.
"Teacher, thank you for your guidance today."
The voice was unexpectedly calm, yet carried a cold, distant tone that seemed to distance people from each other.
She nodded slightly to the old gardener, then, almost without hesitation and with an almost panic-stricken determination, grabbed her handbag, lowered her head, and walked quickly towards the door as if fleeing from the plague.
Didn't even look at him.
He was not given any chance to explain.
I just want to escape as quickly as possible from this place that he has turned upside down again.
Atobe watched helplessly as a gust of cold wind swept past him resolutely, its sleeve brushing against his arm, bringing a slightly cool touch that then dissipated.
He subconsciously reached out, wanting to grab something—
"fog……"
Only one syllable of the name was called out, and the girl's figure disappeared in the bright sunshine outside the door, leaving behind only the sound of hurried footsteps and a faint fragrance belonging to her in the air, mixed with the scent of flowers and plants in the room.
His hands froze in mid-air in vain.
The old gardener looked at his young master's distraught back, as if all his strength had been drained away, and then looked at the bottle of lotus works abandoned by its owner, which still exuded a tranquil power, and sighed silently.
Atobe Keigo slowly withdrew his hand, a slight touch of coolness still lingering on his fingertips. He slowly turned around, his gaze returning to the vase of flowers.
The lotus flowers stood tall and graceful, as if gazing at him silently.
"This isn't flower arranging..." He repeated his stupid words in a low voice, with a bitter and self-deprecating arc at the corner of his mouth.
He raised his hand, and with an almost pious and cautious trembling, his slender fingers gently stroked the edge of a stretched lotus leaf, feeling the cold and vital veins.
"...This is certainly not a flower arrangement." He closed his eyes, his Adam's apple rolled, his voice hoarse as if choking, with a painful, belated, almost shattered realization.
"This is... the heart."
Looking at the bottle of lotus flowers she had abandoned, still blooming peacefully, the belated, painful, and bitter aftertaste of those words lingered on his tongue, like the most silent and severe accusation of all his arrogance, insensitivity, and hurtful behavior.
This can't go on.
Absolutely not!
An extremely clear thought split his chaotic thoughts like thunder!
Man. The emperor of the Ice Emperor.
If you don’t even dare to face the mistakes you made and don’t have the courage to resolve misunderstandings, then what is the point?
Let the situation deteriorate? Watch her get hurt again and again, escape, and build a higher ice wall?
Watching the last bit of tenderness in her eyes being extinguished by my own hands?
No! This is definitely not something he, Keigo Atobe, would do!
He had to speak clearly! Now! Right now!
Even if she slapped him, even if she called him "birds of a feather"!
He was driven by an unprecedented determination and impulse.
He turned around abruptly, no longer looking at the vase of flowers that stung his soul, and rushed out of the quaint wooden door of the flower art studio like an arrow with unquestionable momentum.
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