0022 Rift of Silk (3)
Wanfuze, Wanqifuze.
It took her a long time to remember his name.
It took her a long time to realize that he and she were from completely different worlds.
She should have realized long ago that the driver who picked him up addressed him as "Chen Yixu" in a stiff tone, never straightening his back, and always displaying an undeniable humility. His clothes and accessories, though few and not from common designer brands, exuded an air of refinement. His daily behavior, even his dining etiquette—the way he never showed disdain or contempt for those around him, yet always seemed out of place—were all signs of a child raised in a simple family.
After her brother Ayan had an accident, she felt like the sky had fallen, and the first thing she thought of was to ask him for help.
The moment she saw him with teary eyes, her heart was filled with fear and grievance. Before she could even call out "Chen Yixu," a well-dressed, bespectacled middle-aged man respectfully called him "Young Master."
Everyone in the room turned to look at her disheveled state; each person had their own unique perspective and thoughts.
She felt utterly ashamed, but in her panic, she saw the murderer who had hurt Ayan's brother.
It was clearly drunk driving, yet the police haven't made an arrest yet! Poor Ayan's brother is still lying in the emergency room, not out of danger, and she felt confused for a moment.
How could someone as good as Chen Yixu get involved with criminals?
She didn't believe it and rushed up to grab the murderer, hysterically demanding that he come to the police station with her. The man saw that she was acting like a mad dog and forcefully shook her off. She had never had such strength before, but she held on tightly, subconsciously feeling that this was the only chance to catch the murderer and clear the name of her brother, Ayan.
But she was too weak in the end. In the midst of the struggle, she looked at Chen Yixu through tears, only to see him sitting calmly, drinking tea with a dark look in his eyes, an emotion she could not understand.
She was finally slammed to the ground by that man, her back slamming hard against the back of a chair in the room with a dull thud, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. His gaze finally fell on her.
He reached out to her to help her up, his tone indifferent and devoid of emotion: "Lingling, don't be rude."
She felt a burning rage in her chest. She endured the pain, pushed herself up, and pushed him away forcefully. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
She wanted to yell at him, but she wanted to ask him a question even more.
But looking around, she felt cold and panicked because everything seemed unfamiliar and unknown.
The person in front of her was not someone she knew at all. She was in so much pain that she couldn't bear it and turned to run away.
He didn't chase after them.
She heard the murderer angrily call him "Young Master Wan".
It turns out, he really wasn't Chen Yixu.
But at that time, she had no idea how much weight the word "ten thousand" carried.
That's something you can't learn from casual conversations after a meal, nor can you hear it from some gossipy servant. Only he himself can tell you about his background.
A name that can only be seen in books and on television; a revered and indomitable general. A family that cannot be mentioned casually.
He was the youngest and most beloved grandson in the family.
So much so that his name had to be different from his peers; he was called Fuze.
In D province, he changed his surname from "Wanqi" to "Chen," which was simply to follow the old general's alias "Chen Ping" when he was young and leading troops on campaigns.
Those things that circulate among the people and become casual conversations are nothing more than jokes that can be put on the table.
Some say that General Wanqi was unconventional and disliked tediousness in his youth. He complained that writing four characters for his name in reports during military campaigns was a waste of ink and time, so he simply changed his surname from Wanqi to "Wan". From then on, close family members addressed him by his surname Wan, and only in formal occasions was he called "Wanqi". Others say that the old man was uneducated and illiterate in his early years, a complete "roughneck" who only knew how to fight and couldn't write the complex character "俟".
There are all sorts of opinions, but when it comes to compiling a biography, no one can casually mention the old man's achievements.
It wasn't until she had been by his side for so long that she realized that of those jokes, nine were false and one was true, except for the surname, which was indeed true.
She gradually came to understand that his inherent fierceness and arrogance, as well as the undisguised ruthlessness in his eyes when he fought with others in his youth, all came from the elders in this family.
He was nothing like the Chen Yixu who had been by her side day and night, the one she had confided her secrets to. He was a young nobleman in Beijing who could cover the sky with a wave of his hand.
P.S.: I made a small change to the ending of the previous chapter.
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