Chapter Sixteen: Rouge and Painted Skin
After that day, Cheng Qing behaved himself in the house as if he were a completely different person.
Cheng Qing stopped wearing makeup and bright colors, opting instead for simple, old-fashioned cheongsams. Her dark hair was neatly styled into a low bun, secured with a simple jade hairpin. She even began to stand under the half-withered plum trees in the back garden at dawn, or sit quietly by the window in the afternoon with a slightly worn thread-bound book in hand, her demeanor as serene as a faded portrait of a lady.
Everyone in the house noticed the unusual quiet. Ah Chen was the first to notice. That day, he was carrying newly acquired books to the study when he almost bumped into Cheng Qing, who was walking with her head down, at the corner of the corridor. Ah Chen was startled and hurriedly bowed and stepped back, saying, "Madam."
Cheng Qing looked up, her face devoid of its usual seductive smile, instead carrying a hint of the innocent bewilderment of a young girl from years past. She even smiled faintly, her voice clear and calm: "Achen, what's the rush? I'm not a tiger." Her gaze fell on the books in Achen's arms. "Another new book, is it what Master wants? Shall we send it to Master now?"
"Yes...yes." Ah Chen was caught off guard by her sudden gentleness, his ears involuntarily turning red, and he avoided looking at her.
Cheng Qing seemed oblivious to his embarrassment, simply smiled, and said, "Go on!"
Cheng Qing watched his hurried retreating figure and sneered inwardly. Men, in the end, are such easily swayed fools. This posture was surprisingly more effective than her previous elaborate seductions. Even in Uncle Chen's occasional glances, the usual scrutiny and aloofness had faded somewhat.
The days seemed to freeze in this deliberately created tranquility. She would get up early as usual, stand for a quarter of an hour under those few sick plum trees, and watch the bleak winter sun climb over the eaves; in the afternoon, she would sit on the daybed by the window in her room, holding a popular novel of the Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School, the shadow of the window frame slowly moving on the pages, like the silent, growing malice in her heart, eroding this false peace inch by inch.
Until that afternoon, the warm sun unusually dispelled the gloom. Cheng Qing sat by the window as usual, a book open on her lap, but her thoughts had already drifted far away.
"...I heard that Chen Kan and Miss Lin's factory has already opened," Uncle Chen's voice was as steady as ever, with a hint of barely perceptible emotion. "The first batch of workers they hired were all women. In this world, for women to go out and work...sigh, it's hard to say whether it's a way to make a living."
A moment of silence fell over the hall. Cheng Qing could almost picture Qiao Yuan's slightly furrowed brows.
Sure enough, his voice rang out, carrying a deliberate coldness and mockery: "Wishful thinking! A bunch of women, huddled around the machine, what can they possibly accomplish? Chen Kan is also muddle-headed, letting Lin Jintang act recklessly. At this critical juncture, the bigger the tree, the more the wind will blow; isn't she already attracting enough attention?"
His tone was the usual denial, the kind of harshness Qiao Yuan used. Cheng Qing lowered her eyelashes, her gaze falling on the two words "Zhenjing" on the page, but a very subtle, cold smile silently curved her lips.
She turned her head slightly, seemingly unintentionally, and her gaze passed through the half-open lattice, precisely capturing the fleeting expression on Qiao Yuan's face. In the depths of those deep eyes, there was clearly not anger, nor contempt, but a kind of... indescribable complex light, as if a spark had been suddenly thrown into the ash of a dormant volcano, weak yet scorching.
In the shadowy corner, Cheng Qing's eyes darted rapidly beneath her lowered eyelids, a dark flame flickering and twisting wildly within them. A clearer, more vicious idea, like a poisoned vine, instantly coiled around her heart, tightening its grip.
Cheng Qing stood up, the hem of her moon-white cheongsam brushing against the bronze incense burner beside the couch. The lid of the burner clattered against the edge of the table. The remaining incense inside had burned down to the base, and wisps of smoke twisted their slender waists, slipping out through the window cracks and disappearing into the gray sky.
Cheng Qing reached out and touched the lily, her fingertips dusty. Staring at her fingertips, she suddenly remembered twelve-year-old Gu Manqing: braided pigtails, carrying a cloth bag, standing at the entrance of Mingde Girls' Middle School, sunlight shining on her face, her eyes bright as stars. At that time, she didn't know that in three months, she would be abducted by human traffickers, taken away from Shanghai, become "Sato Sakura," become Cheng Qing.
“Gu Manqing,” she whispered to the mirror, pulling out the jade hairpin with her fingers. Her hair cascaded down, then she braided it into two plaits and put on a blue ribbon. “You’re lucky to be a clean person. Now it’s your turn to help me.” The person in the mirror slowly changed: her eyebrows no longer held a seductive glint, her eyes no longer held a venomous glint, and the corners of her mouth curved into a small arc, like a student just out of school, with a touch of innocence and a touch of docility.
"Madam, are you going out?" Ah Chen's voice suddenly came. Cheng Qing turned around and saw him standing at the door, holding a copper basin in his hands. He must be going to fetch hot water.
She smiled, her voice as calm and gentle as Gu Manqing's in the past: "Achen, could you prepare a car for me? I want to go to Hongkou and see what's going on."
Ah Chen froze, staring at her school uniform, then at her braided hair, his ears suddenly turning red: "Aunt... Miss Gu?" He almost called her by the wrong name, quickly covering his mouth, "You, you are..."
Cheng Qing walked over and gently touched his arm, just like she would when she was a child talking to the boy next door: "Don't tell the old man, okay? I'll only be gone for a little while, I'll be right back."
Ah Chen's face turned even redder. He scratched his head and put the copper basin on the ground: "Then, then I'll take you there?"
Cheng Qing smiled, turned around and walked out of the room.
Ah Chen was thinking to himself, "After that day, I wonder if Master Qiao and Madam have explained things to each other... Should we just let Madam misunderstand Master Qiao like this? Should I go and explain?"
...
The hustle and bustle of the newly opened Hongkou factory could be heard from across the street.
Colorful flags fluttered, and crowds thronged the area, mostly simply dressed women with curiosity and hope on their faces, interspersed with shouts from the manager urging them on.
Lin Tang was dressed in an indigo blue worker's uniform, her hair neatly pinned up at the back of her head. She was talking to several female workers, her forehead beaded with sweat, her cheeks flushed with a healthy rosy glow from her busyness and excitement, and her eyes bright. She was completely different from the domineering Mrs. Qiao in the Qiao residence.
Cheng Qing took a deep breath, quickly forming a smile on her face that was just right, a mixture of joy and guilt, and strode over.
"Sister Tang!" Her voice was clear and bright, with a touch of familiar charm.
Lin Tang turned around at the sound of her voice. When she saw it was her, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by deep guilt and worry. She hurried over and grabbed Cheng Qing's hand, finding it icy cold: "Man...Qing'er? What brings you here?"
Cheng Qing sneered inwardly, but her face appeared even more pitiful. "I heard that your factory with Brother Bai Mu is opening, so I specially made some snacks, thinking... thinking I'd come and share in the joy." She handed the wicker basket forward, her smile gentle and harmless. "It looks so lively, so nice."
Looking at her docile and obedient appearance, Lin Tang felt a pang of sorrow when she thought of her situation at the Qiao residence. She hurriedly took the basket and said repeatedly, "Come in and sit down, it's quieter inside." She took Cheng Qing's hand and led her away from the noisy crowd to a simple, temporarily set-up office next door.
The office contained only a few tables and chairs, simply furnished. Lin Tang poured Cheng Qing a glass of hot water, sat down next to her, her eyes full of concern: "Are you alright? Since that day, I've been so worried about you, but..."
Cheng Qing held the warm enamel cup, feeling the cheap warmth on her fingertips, but her heart was ice-cold.
Cheng Qing raised her eyes, her gaze welling up with tears, and hesitated, "Sister Lin, I... I shouldn't have said anything, but... seeing you working so hard, I..."
Lin Tang's eyes darkened, and she roughly knew why she had come. She looked at her calmly and said, "Has something happened to Qiao Yuan again?"
Cheng Qing bit her lower lip, as if making a huge decision, and said, "Mr. Qiao... he's been getting... really close to the Japanese lately, especially that Mr. Sato. I... I'm a little scared..."
Lin Tang's face remained seemingly calm, but her grip on the cup tightened unconsciously: "Sato?"
“Yes,” Cheng Qing nodded vigorously, her eyes filled with worry. “They often have secret talks in the study, sometimes until late at night. Once, I overheard Sato talking about ‘cooperation,’ ‘East Asian Co-prosperity’… and he even mentioned… mentioned you…” She paused at just the right moment, observing Lin Tang’s suddenly tense expression, before continuing, “Sister Lin, you must be careful. Mr. Qiao… he has a special status after all, and Sato… is so powerful. I’m afraid they might harm your factory…”
These words were spoken with heartfelt sincerity, and every word struck a chord with Lin Tang.
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