Chapter 10
This day is the Great Cold, one of the solar terms.
The hot water pipes in the Rong Mansion burst, and workers were braving the heavy snow to carry out emergency repairs. Without modern heating, the huge mansion instantly turned into a giant icebox. They had to move many braziers and stoves to each room to alleviate the immediate crisis.
Rongxiang, wearing a black overcoat, paced between the three braziers. The tone of Zhongdao's side had lost its initial politeness, but Tianjin remained relatively calm; there had been no reports of any unusual actions from the Emperor. Perhaps things weren't developing as quickly as Zhongdao had predicted, and it would be difficult for the Emperor to leave Tianjin. He didn't believe that Prince Chun and his associates wouldn't obstruct him. And what about the Empress and the others? Would the Empress really come to Manchuria? Impossible!
He coughed, covering his mouth, then chuckled self-deprecatingly. A few days ago, Nakajima's stunts in the newspapers had caused a public uproar, leaving him with no choice but to retire again, feigning illness. The excuse of illness was something he and Yi Zhongming had come up with, but the temperature had plummeted, and the heating had broken down; sure enough, he'd caught a cold and developed a fever.
Xiao Meng tiptoed into the room and handed him a letter: "Third Master, this is a letter from Mr. Fu."
Rong Xiang glanced at it coldly, then squatted down and stretched his hand over the brazier: "Put it on the table first."
The charcoal fire in the brazier glowed a bright red. Rongxiang kept his hands as low as possible to warm them. After warming himself for a while, he stood up, walked to the table, and looked at the envelope; it was from Beiping.
Fu Jingyuan left Fengtian a week ago—without telling him, presumably still harboring resentment over their argument that day, or perhaps wanting to distance himself from this traitor. Rong Xiang had long been mentally prepared for the separation, but he hadn't expected the reason for it to be so inexplicable. In his ideal world, love and political life were unrelated. Love was love, and even if the other person was a heinous villain, it shouldn't be an obstacle to love. If a relationship couldn't be that pure, then it wasn't true love, and therefore had nothing to cherish.
Rongxiang considered himself an idealist, believing that ideals were paramount and that everything in reality was insignificant compared to them. All sacrifices made for his ideals were therefore only natural.
However, his ideals were often entangled with his desires, which frequently made him feel mentally unstable. Fortunately, he was not a profound thinker, otherwise he would have surely gone mad.
He picked up the letter from the table, slowly walked to the brazier, the letter hovering above the embers, and let go without hesitation.
He figured the letter must contain accusations and advice, urging him to turn back from the wrong path, immediately fight the Japanese, and become a national hero revered by all. He spat into the brazier. Life was good; he wanted to live a few more years!
He had given up on Fu Jingyuan. All those good days they shared were just a fleeting dream. After all, life is like a dream, and what's real and what's fake doesn't really make much difference.
As he watched the letter turn to ashes, he covered his mouth and coughed.
"Xiao Meng!" he called out breathlessly.
Xiao Meng walked in as instructed: "Third Master."
Rongxiang lowered his head and closed his eyes for a while, then walked wearily outside: "Let's go for a walk."
"Third Master, you're ill..."
Rongxiang turned around and glared at him fiercely.
Zhao Hangsen sat in his car and saw Rong Xiang and his entourage emerging from the theater from afar. He hesitated for a moment, but still didn't get out of the car to greet them. The situation in Fengtian was becoming increasingly chaotic, and Rong Xiang was right in the eye of the storm. His affair with the Japanese was being widely publicized. As the son of a remnant of the old regime, powerless and without influence, it was best for him to avoid the limelight.
It was cold, and Rong Xiang was wearing many layers, yet he still wore a thick felt hat askew on his head. He seemed to know that the hat made him look more playful and handsome, so he refused to change his fur hat even in the dead of winter. Behind him, besides Xiao Meng, was a large group of bodyguards in suits. Nowadays, military figures usually travel with soldiers and guards, making them appear quite imposing. Rong Xiang and Yi Zhongming, however, always brought private bodyguards, looking more like gang leaders. Xiao Meng, as always, walked in front, opening the car door for Rong Xiang. It was only when he got in that Zhao Hangsen noticed that Rong Xiang also had a young man in a long robe and mandarin jacket with him, whom he hadn't noticed at all because Rong Xiang had blocked his view.
That young man... isn't he Lin Fengqing?
Zhao Hangsen peeked out, wanting to get a closer look, but the Ninth Concubine beside him grew impatient. She pointed her index finger at Zhang Hangsen's cheekbone and scolded in a coquettish voice, "What are you looking at? Do you want to live on this street?" She had just turned fourteen this year, and her voice still had a childlike quality.
Rongxiang has recently become infatuated with Lin Fengqing.
The heating in the house has been repaired, and his cold has improved, but he still has a fever every night. The fever doesn't make him feel too uncomfortable, and he still has the energy to go see Lin Fengqing during the day.
He treated Lin Fengqing just as he had treated Feng Huizhen, indulging her every whim and never being stingy with money. He even bought her a mansion as a luxurious haven for his mistress. Yi Zhongming was used to this and didn't question it.
Rongxiang was both handsome and considerate. Lin Fengqing, despite her fame as a famous actress, had never met such a devoted and understanding patron. So, within a few days, the two were inseparable, as affectionate as newlyweds. Rongxiang took Lin Fengqing back to the small mansion, they had dinner together, and then couldn't wait to go to the bedroom for a passionate night of intimacy. It wasn't until the moon had set that Rongxiang got up and dressed.
Lin Fengqing sat on the bed, wrapped in a quilt, looking at Rongxiang with hazy eyes, and said softly, "You don't have a wife waiting for you, why do you have to go back tonight?"
Rongxiang looked up and smiled at him: "I have something to do tomorrow morning, I can't be late." Having just finished their intimate moments, his face was still flushed; a man, yet with a touch of rosy cheeks. He buttoned his coat and suddenly swayed, gripping the corner of the table.
"What's wrong?" Lin Fengqing saw that he was about to fall, so she quickly stretched out a snow-white leg, wanting to get down and check on him. Rong Xiang, however, made a gesture that it was unnecessary: "I was just a little dizzy, but I'm fine now."
Lin Fengqing ignored him and walked over naked. He reached out and touched Rongxiang's forehead, his expression worried: "You should have the doctor check you again tomorrow. How can you have a fever every night? It seems to be a bit high today. Be careful that the fever doesn't cause any other problems."
Rongxiang put his arm around Lin Fengqing's slender waist: "You're so good to me."
Lin Fengqing winked at him: "Nonsense, you only realize that now?"
Rongxiang lowered his head and kissed his cheek: "Go back to bed, the floor is cold. See you tomorrow." Then he turned around and called out, "Xiao Meng!"
Xiao Meng answered from outside the door, "Yes."
"Drive the car over here."
"yes."
People with fever are usually particularly sensitive to cold.
Rong Xiang was like that; he shivered all the way to the car. Inside, he was still trembling. Eventually, all his muscles tensed, focused solely on fighting the cold. So when Xiao Meng braked suddenly, he lurched forward, past the driver's seat, and slammed into the windshield with a thud. The bodyguard next to him quickly got up and pulled him back. Startled by the impact, Rong Xiang drew his pistol and smashed it against Xiao Meng's head: "What the hell are you doing?"
The gun barrel grazed Xiao Meng's scalp, and blood immediately flowed down his forehead. Xiao Meng raised his hand to wipe it, then pointed ahead: "Suddenly a car is rushing towards us."
Rong Xiang then noticed the flashing headlights of the cars ahead. Why were so many cars suddenly blocking the road so late? He immediately looked back and saw that his own car had also stopped, and bodyguards had surrounded it. He grabbed his hat and pulled it over his head, instinctively chambering a bullet. What was going on?
People got out of the car in front, and the headlights dimmed. Rong Xiang realized that apart from a black vintage car, the rest were all Japanese military jeeps. A man dressed as a Japanese soldier strode up and knocked on Rong Xiang's car window: "Rong-kun! Long time no see, how have you been?"
Rongxiang tucked the gun into his coat pocket, then got out of the car with a beaming smile: "Ah, it's Mr. Nakajima. It's been a long time. What a coincidence to meet here."
Nakajima was a little shorter than Rongxiang, but because he was wearing a Russian-style pointed leather hat, he appeared much taller. He warmly grasped Rongxiang's hand and shook it vigorously: "I've heard you were ill for a long time and have wanted to visit you, but your chief of staff was too polite, too polite, saying he didn't want to trouble me. That's really too much trouble! It's not trouble at all! I went to your residence several times, but you weren't home. I heard you had a new residence nearby, so I had to wait for you here. Persistence pays off, and I've finally found you!"
Upon hearing this, Rongxiang felt utterly overwhelmed. Standing in the cold wind, his teeth chattered: "Oh...you're so kind...thank you so much."
Nakajima was still holding his hand: "Um... I happen to have something to discuss with you. Would you like to come to my house together, or..."
Rong Xiang gripped his car door with one hand: "Mr. Nakajima, it's so late today, what's the matter? How about we talk about it tomorrow?"
Nakajima put his arm around his shoulder and said, "Rong-kun, you have a lot of important matters to attend to, and I don't want to take up any more of your time. Let's go, it'll be over soon."
Rongxiang struggled for a moment: "Mr. Nakajima, let me go!"
Hideo Nakajima pretended not to hear, but at the same time, Japanese soldiers from the jeeps behind him swarmed around him, all carrying machine guns.
"Let's go, Rong Jun."
Rong Xiang quickly scanned the surroundings and realized that his side was no match for them. He could only laugh and say, "To get to your residence, I still have to walk home. Mr. Nakajima, you know that I am not in good health right now and cannot withstand such a journey. If you don't mind, would you please come to my house for a visit?"
Nakajima had waited a long time and finally seized the opportunity. Fearing that things might go wrong if he waited too long, he was unwilling to waste time arguing with Rongxiang. He secretly tightened his grip on Rongxiang's hand, but his words remained warm and friendly: "Hey, Rongjun, I will make sure you get back to your residence safely. What, don't you trust me?"
Rongxiang felt a chill run down his spine: "Very well, I shall comply."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
