Chapter 48 Magpie on Branch (Part 8) He can love me as much as I love him.
"Ye Mu!"
Jiang Si suddenly shouted, veins bulging on her forehead, clearly enraged, "Do you even know what nonsense you're spouting! How can a young lady like you utter such lewd words!"
"Debauchery?" Ye Mu didn't even raise an eyebrow, his tone very calm. "Didn't you ask me first, Lord Jiang? Besides, my few crude words are probably nothing compared to what you said in the streets last time, Lord Jiang."
She stopped looking at him, turned to the side, and reached for the door latch again. Jiang Si subconsciously reached out to stop her, trying to grab her wrist, but Ye Mu seemed to have expected it and quickly raised her hand to avoid it.
She merely raised her eyes, her gaze coldly sweeping over his outstretched hand. "Young Master Jiang, please have some self-respect. This is no longer a place where you can run wild. If you cause trouble in Fuyou Pavilion and disturb the other distinguished guests, there's no guarantee that Madam Yun won't kick you out, and tomorrow the news will spread throughout the streets and alleys."
Jiang Si's hand froze in mid-air before slowly retracting. He wasn't afraid of Lady Yun, but he had come today with the intention of making amends and easing tensions.
Since the last incident, he had been staying at home for several days, reflecting on his actions repeatedly. He felt that his words that day had been too out of control, and he thought he must speak gently and softly, no matter how absurd her reason for not coming home was, he must never scold her. But when he saw her dazzling outfit, all his plans crumbled instantly.
Jiang Si suppressed the surging anger and bitterness in his heart, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to soften his tone, "Fourth Sister, let's talk this out..."
Ye Mu gave him no more chances. Seeing that he no longer stopped her, she immediately opened the door latch.
Slightly brighter light streamed in from the corridor, and she stepped outside. The pain in her left leg prevented her from walking normally; she could only barely maintain her balance, and each step seemed slow, stiff, and awkward.
This posture, when seen by Jiang Si who followed closely behind, became yet another piece of irrefutable evidence.
The jealousy he had barely managed to suppress surged back into his heart, burning so intensely that his heart was on the verge of collapse. They must have done something last night... He could almost picture those unbearable scenes, and hatred gnawed at his very core.
He chased after her out of the room, grabbed her, and demanded fiercely, "Who is that man?! Where does he live? What does he do? How long have you known each other?!"
His gaze swept over the plain black robe she wore, and he made a contemptuous judgment in his mind: she must be a poor boy from the streets, ignorant of his place!
Ye Mu swayed as he pulled her, the pain from her leg injury making her face even paler. She forcefully shook off his hand and walked along the wall, saying, "It's none of your business to care about him."
joke!
"Who cares about him!"
Jiang Si growled, his gaze unable to leave her obviously strained back. He was filled with hatred and stepped forward to help her up. "I'm worried about you! That reckless brat, what sense of propriety does he have? And you just let him do whatever he wants?!"
Although Ye Mu walked slowly, he didn't stop. He moved to the accounting room, snorted coldly, "When emotions run high, what need is there for restraint?"
Jiang Si was so angry that his teeth itched. He really wanted to pick her up and slam her hard on the bed, using every means to make her unable to say such heart-wrenching words, so that she could only beg for mercy and have no other thoughts.
But he suppressed the thought for only a moment.
He cannot.
He wanted to live a good life with her, but he couldn't force her, otherwise Ye Mu would hate him more and more. Ye Mu in this life was no longer the gentle and silent fourth girl.
Ten years of torment and Zhou's open and covert harassment had long since sharpened her into a thin blade, its edge concealed, ready to draw blood at the slightest touch. If he were to force himself on her now, there would be no other possibility but to push her further away. He could only curse Ye Xingwen, that stupid woman, a thousand times over in his heart.
Ye Mu had already put on that bulky old indigo cotton robe, completely covering the black robe. Without even looking at him, she walked straight toward the side gate leading to the backyard.
Jiang Si suppressed the metallic taste rising in his throat and caught up with him in a few steps. "You're just planning to walk back like this? Your lover has left you in this state, and he doesn't even have time to take you home?"
"He's very busy." Ye Mu opened the latch.
"Busy?" Jiang Si sneered through his nose, saying contemptuously, "The poorer you are, the more busy you are."
He grabbed her wrist. "I have a carriage. I'll take you back to Yuqian Lane."
Jiang Si was too lazy to hide the fact that he had already found out where she was staying.
After the street argument that day, he went back and used his connections to find out about Yuqian Lane without much effort.
He waited at the alley entrance all night yesterday.
Yesterday was the Beginning of Winter, which was also his birthday. He specially booked a banquet at Fuyou Pavilion, thinking that under the guise of his birthday, he could have an excuse to sit down and talk to her. He thought that if she was willing to come, he might be able to humble himself and apologize properly. She was a woman, and her heart was always softer. For the sake of her birthday, she should be able to lessen her anger a bit, right?
But Lady Yun said that Ye Mu had taken leave.
He immediately felt that all the delicacies on the table had lost their flavor, and he responded with a few listless words. Ignoring the tacit teasing glances from his colleagues at the table, he left early.
Having lived a full life, he believed he could tell which was more important, his pride or his beloved wife.
After the banquet ended, he went straight to Yuqian Lane.
As dusk settled, the small courtyard was dark, with no lights on. He thought that perhaps the mother and daughter hadn't returned from their holiday activities yet.
So he went into the teahouse at the entrance of the alley, picked a seat by the window where he could see what was happening at the entrance of the alley, and ordered a pot of coarse tea.
It was lunchtime, and the alley was filled with the mingled aromas of food and the sounds of everyday life. Men walked home with heavy footsteps, women greeted each other about the dishes for the evening, and children chased and played as they ran past the teahouse.
Jiang Si sat on a greasy bench in the teahouse. The rough earthenware teacup in front of him had long since gone cold, with a layer of dull tea foam floating on it. He stared intently at every figure entering and leaving the alleyway.
As dusk deepened, he saw Zijing supporting Liu's figure at the alley entrance, but Ye Mu was not there.
He thought it was only natural for his youngest daughter to be drawn to the bustling marketplace and take a few more glances at the novelties. Besides, she was short of money and couldn't buy what she liked, so she could only look around.
He waited patiently.
The moon rose above the willow branches, its clear light just beginning to spill. Fewer people were coming and going in the alley, with only the occasional peddler carrying his load hurrying by, or a drunkard humming an off-key tune as he staggered along. As the night deepened, he saw a young monk in a gray robe, pulling an empty cart, slowly turning into Elm Seed Alley.
Not long after, he came out of the alley again, dragging an empty cart. He was probably going to beg for alms, but he didn't get anything. Jiang Si felt sorry for him and gave him a few copper coins as a token of his appreciation.
The young monk was clearly taken aback for a moment, then respectfully wished him all his dreams would come true.
But all he could think about at that moment was Ye Mu, and she still hadn't returned by the time the teahouse closed.
As night gradually fell over the long street, he waited all night in the carriage, listening to the watchman's clapper, which came closer and then faded away, slowly striking the second, third, and fourth watches, one after another.
Each sound felt like a blow to his anxious heart.
She did not return home all night.
He was still making excuses for her, maybe she was staying at one of her best friends' houses, but when he saw what she was wearing, Jiang Si suddenly realized what was going on, and his vague guesses came to fruition.
She just went to find some other man!
Jiang Si tried his best to suppress his anger. He had come to her today to get to the bottom of things, not to argue. He couldn't be as impulsive as before. So he forced all his surging emotions back down his throat. "You can ride in my carriage. I'll take you back. We can have a good talk."
"I think there's nothing more to say between us." Ye Mu looked down at his hand on her wrist and said coldly, "Lord Jiang, if you don't let go, I don't mind giving you another new wound, just like last time."
Jiang Si felt like he had gone mad.
Although her expression was cold and her tone was extremely indifferent, the respectful words "Lord Jiang" uttered from her pale lips sounded incredibly pleasing to him.
He even absurdly imagined what it would be like to hear her calling him in that way, breathlessly, under the red silk curtains, her hair disheveled.
Jiang Si's Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his voice softened a bit, "Fourth Sister..."
Ye Mu didn't want to hear him say any more, and called out, "Uncle Chen!"
Jiang Si thought she had some trick up her sleeve again, so he loosened his grip. Unexpectedly, a slightly worn flatbed oxcart pulled up in front of the door. Some burlap sacks were piled haphazardly on the cart. The driver was an old man with a wrinkled face, wearing a tattered cotton-padded coat and with his hands in his pockets. He greeted her familiarly in his local accent, "Madam Ye, going back to Yuqian Lane? Why are you so late tonight?"
His speech was thick with a local accent, his Mandarin was not fluent, and his grammar was incoherent, but it revealed genuine concern.
"Yes, thank you for your trouble, Uncle Chen," Ye Mu replied.
Sometimes when she was busy until late at night, she was afraid that her mother and Zijing would be waiting anxiously at home, so she would hire an oxcart to go, which was always faster than walking.
Despite the pain in her legs, she awkwardly tried to climb onto the not-so-high platform. A hand reached out from the side, steadily supporting her elbow and helping her up.
"You'd rather ride in this drafty oxcart than in my horse-drawn carriage?"
"You still look down on cattle?" Ye Mu struggled, shook off his hand, and found a relatively clean spot on the edge of the cart where she could sit down against the burlap sacks. "Uncle Chen, let's go."
Jiang Si also turned over and sat down, causing the oxcart to suddenly sag. He sat down directly beside her, the cart floor was narrow, and there was almost no way to avoid each other.
Ye Mu was jostled to the side, both shocked and furious. "Jiang Si! Get down!"
She raised her foot to kick his shin, the movement aggravating his wound. Her brow furrowed suddenly, and she bit her lip hard to stifle a painful gasp.
Jiang Si was also in pain from the kick, but he pretended not to move and sat even more firmly, taking up even more space in the already cramped area. He turned his head, his gaze deep, "Since you insist on riding in this oxcart, then I'll ride with you."
Ye Mu tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn't leave, and she was exhausted. After all, Uncle Chen was still here, so she figured he wouldn't dare to do anything. She tucked her collar in, pressed her back tightly against the sack, curled up into a ball, lowered her eyes, and decided to just wait it out. He would have his turn to freeze.
Hearing the commotion, Uncle Chen curiously turned around and glanced at the richly dressed, ashen-faced young man. He felt the man looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't quite place him. Not wanting to ask further, he grinned at the young man, thinking that more passengers meant more fare, and was quite happy to oblige. He lightly whipped the old ox, "Hold on tight, let's go!"
The oxcart slowly started moving, rolling over the bluestone road, and the cold wind immediately invaded from all directions.
Jiang Si was only wearing that brocade robe, which was far less warm than a cotton robe. In just a moment, he felt the wind piercing through his clothes like fine needles, and the coldness climbed up his spine, making his teeth chatter slightly.
He involuntarily shrank his shoulders and glanced at Ye Mu, who was wrapped up like a dumpling with only her small face showing. She was quiet, her gaze fixed on the blurry street scene rushing past outside the car, her profile appearing particularly indifferent in the occasional passing lights.
The oxcart rounded a bend, and the wind picked up even more.
Jiang Si finally couldn't help but let his teeth chatter slightly. He tried to speak to dispel the chill, his voice faltering in the wind, "Fourth Sister... perhaps there's... some misunderstanding between us."
Ye Mu acted as if he hadn't heard.
Jiang Si waited for a response, and the anger mixed with grievance rose up in his heart again. "That day in the street, I spoke without thinking. I didn't mean to insult you. I just... missed you so much. I really missed you so much."
Before the words were finished, a muffled and long "pfft—hiss—" suddenly burst out in the air.
The old ox pulling the cart seemed to have been choked by the cold wind and was having indigestion. Without warning, it let out an extremely loud fart, with a slightly melodious twist.
In the quiet, cold night, the sound was amplified to an incredibly clear level, and a warm scent, a mixture of fermenting hay and the smell of livestock, was then dispersed by the wind, spreading out faintly.
Uncle Chen, who was rushing to catch the carriage, was used to it and didn't even turn his head.
Ye Mu suddenly turned her head, not because Niu Pi startled her, but because Jiang Si's words disgusted her.
Missing her?!
She stared at Jiang Si, her eyes wide open, it was utterly absurd.
"Are you crazy?" She raised a finger, pointed vaguely at the old ox in front of her, then pointed back at him. "Are you competing with it, seeing who can release... a louder and more stinky ox?"
What nonsense did he spout in front of the cow's rear end?
"You were the one who ransacked my house, you were the one who carried Su Yao into the house, and you're the one who drove me to the brink. Jiang Si, I don't understand, what are you trying to achieve by saying these incoherent things to me now?"
She lowered her voice, not because she was afraid Chen Bo would hear her—he didn't understand Mandarin very well—but because she didn't want to inhale too much murky air. "Now that we've been given a second chance at life, why don't we go our separate ways, with our lives and deaths unrelated? Or is it that you still feel this life isn't enough, and you want to keep chasing after me until you've completely crushed me into the mud?"
The hushed voice, combined with the distance and the blurriness of the night, gave Jiang Si the illusion of an almost private conversation.
The faint hope in his heart rekindled, and he couldn't help but move closer to her, urgently explaining, "It's not hatred, it's a misunderstanding. A huge misunderstanding! Fourth Sister, listen to me, I didn't marry Su Yao sincerely. It was just a moment of anger, a test to see if you cared about me. But you were so calm, agreeing to everything I said without a single word of rebuttal, not even a tear. I was driven mad by your indifference!"
He spoke faster and faster, trying to recount the whole story in one go, "The Marquis's family deserved what they got; that's the law of the court, and I was acting in accordance with it. As for exiling you as well, that was absolutely not my intention. At that time, I was being attacked by all the officials, I was overwhelmed with problems, the war in the north was intense, and there was a civil unrest in the south. By the time I finally managed to stabilize the situation and free up my hands, you were no longer in the capital! I sent people to look for you, but..."
He took a breath. "And Ling'er! When I got back to the manor after my shift, I heard the news of his death. I was heartbroken too."
The child's death was absolutely not his intention.
"Yes, in my past life I did act recklessly and irrationally, hurting you deeply. But Fourth Sister, you must believe me, I really lost my mind and did those irreparable mistakes because I cared about you too much."
This attempt to disguise selfish violence as a heartfelt defense is like a bucket of sewage mixed with blood and syrup, thrown at you.
As Ye Mu listened, his initial shock was gradually replaced by a chill. It was too absurd! He almost wanted to clear himself of guilt!
She wouldn't be easily swayed by his chilling words.
Ye Mu chuckled briefly. "So, according to Lord Jiang's lofty theory, if you care about someone, you first destroy the family that made her living, then trample on her last dignity as a wife, and finally, personally send her to exile, letting her die miserably in despair?"
She sneered, "Jiang Si, you care so much; most people can't possibly appreciate that."
The oxcart slowly turned into the entrance of Yuqian Lane, and finally we arrived.
“Jiang Si, if you really have even a shred of conscience, you should shave your head and become a monk in this life, kneeling before the Buddha and chanting sutras for Ling’er’s salvation every day. He was so young, and you killed him.”
I have said all I need to say, and my mind is made up.
Ye Mu stopped looking at him, pulled her cotton robe tighter around her, endured the pain in her legs, and got out of the car.
She approached Uncle Chen and said, “Uncle Chen, my leg is injured. In the next few mornings, I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you to come and pick me up to go to the shop. I’ll pay you two extra coins for the fare each day as a token of my appreciation for your trouble.”
Uncle Chen understood the gist of it. Few people rode in his open oxcart during the winter, so having a steady income was good. With the end of the year approaching, it would be nice to save a few more copper coins to buy cloth and meat for his family. He gave a vague reply, but it sounded pleased.
Ye Mu paid the fare for the day and walked into the alley.
Jiang Si was extremely anxious when he saw her leave. His words had not only failed to clarify things, but seemed to have made her even colder.
He immediately jumped out of the car, wanting to catch up and say something more.
His feet had barely touched the ground when a rough, chapped hand grabbed his sleeve. Uncle Chen glared at him, then stretched out his other hand. "Young man, you haven't paid yet!"
Jiang Si was taken aback. "Didn't my wife just give it to me?"
Chen Bo, who only half-understood the stilted Mandarin, was convinced that this well-dressed young man wanted to ride for free. Seeing him pointing at Ye Mu, he clenched his fist even tighter. "Madam Ye only paid hers. You rode in my carriage, so you have to pay! If you don't pay me, I'll take you to see the neighborhood official!"
He became more and more excited as he spoke, and his voice grew louder.
Jiang Si touched his sleeve and then remembered that his money pouch and loose silver were in the carriage, and he had no money on him.
He watched as Ye Mu's figure was about to disappear into the depths of the alley, and he was so anxious that he could only try to negotiate with Uncle Chen, "Uncle Chen, right? Don't worry, my money is in the carriage. How about this, if you take me back to where I got on the carriage, I will pay you double the fare."
Uncle Chen couldn't understand the cryptic conversation at all. He only heard "carriage" and "double," and he felt that this person was being cunning. He stubbornly said, "I remember now, you're that top scholar who was paraded through the streets, right? Does being a top scholar mean you don't have to pay? Come on! Let's go see the magistrate! Let the upright official judge this!"
The two argued and struggled at the quiet alley entrance, their words failing them and creating a chaotic scene.
In a small courtyard not far away, Zijing, who had just removed the latch, greeted Ye Mu. She immediately noticed the men's robes Ye Mu was wearing and exclaimed in surprise, "Fourth Miss, what are you wearing...?"
"It's my master's." Ye Mu leaned against the door frame, took a breath, and explained in a low voice, "I accidentally fell on the mountain yesterday and tore my clothes. My master gave me the clothes he had prepared."
She paused, then added, "He was very thoughtful. He said that the women in our family live alone and it's not safe to be alone at the end of the year, so he suggested that we hang some men's shirts out to dry in the yard so that outsiders would be more wary of us."
Hearing the noise, Liu came out of the house, still holding a needle and thread. She frowned slightly as she heard the faint commotion coming from the alley entrance. "Why is it so noisy at the alley entrance? It sounds like people are arguing?"
Ye Mu's face remained expressionless; he simply said, "Perhaps it's some stray dog that wandered in from somewhere, barking aimlessly because it couldn't find any food."
Sure enough, Accountant Wang was right. Men born in the twelfth lunar month tend to have hearts that are hardened and cold, making it difficult for them to produce anything warm, gentle, and considerate.
After that, in addition to his failed attempt to rob a woman, Jiang Si's reputation was further damaged by another rather absurd incident: he refused to pay his debts by riding in an oxcart and got into a street argument with an old farmer.
-
Actually, Wen Kong went to pick up Ye Mu at dusk that day, because he was still worried about her.
However, he didn't go to Fuyou Pavilion, but to a rouge shop.
He stood quietly under the eaves across the street, waiting to see.
The winter daylight was fleeting, and dusk came quickly. After the last rays of blue sky in the west were swallowed by gray-purple, Ye Mu still hadn't emerged.
The lanterns along the street lit up one after another, casting dim, hazy halos of light on the bluestone slabs. He saw the shop assistants begin to collect the boxes of rouge and face powder that were displayed outside the door.
Wen Kong stepped forward, raised one palm, and gave a slight bow to the busy young shop assistant. "Amitabha. Benefactor, may I ask if your shop's accountant is still in the shop?"
Hearing the voice, the waiter looked up and, by the warm yellow light from inside the door, saw a monk in clean robes with serene features. His attitude became more respectful, and he quickly stopped to return the greeting. "Master, are you looking for the accountant? He has already gone home. He always travels with our manager's carriage. He should be home soon."
Their shop's accountant was the shopkeeper's biological father. They had a deep father-son bond, living and going out together without fail, rain or shine.
"Master, is there something you need from the accountant?" The shop assistant noticed that his nose was red, probably because he had been standing in the cold evening air for a long time, so he couldn't help but ask.
How could Wen Kong know the intricate twists and turns of this situation?
Upon hearing that the accountant had left with the manager, he felt a slight sense of relief, knowing he was safe and sound.
She was naturally clever and charming, and wherever she was, she was always well taken care of. Even in the shop where she had just started working, she could get along well with everyone. It was as if her own child was being appreciated, and Wen Kong felt happy in his heart.
He took out the small celadon jar he had used yesterday from the sleeve of his monk's robe. The jar had been refilled with ointment and was warm to the touch.
He handed it to the shop assistant, saying, "She has a leg injury and needs her dressing changed regularly. Please be sure to give this to her and tell her not to take it lightly and to apply it carefully."
The waiter took the cold porcelain jar with both hands, first surprised, then realizing what was happening, and his face showed admiration. The monk was indeed compassionate!
Their old accountant held a birthday banquet a few days ago. He drank too much in his excitement and accidentally tripped and fell. He was not seriously injured, but suffered some minor scrapes.
The shop assistant said, "It's kind of you to bring the medicine. I'll make sure you take it. Thank you, Master!"
He thought the monk had come to offer medicine after hearing that an elderly neighbor had been injured.
Wen Kong nodded slightly and turned to leave.
He paused slightly, as if suddenly seized by a long-standing thought. He turned back and inquired, "Esteemed benefactor, may I ask if the manager of your shop is a handsome young man of about twenty-five or twenty-six?"
The age seems to match, but the word "handsome"...
The waiter immediately pictured his boss's short, stout figure in his mind. His face was marked with several distinct pockmarks, and although his skin was fairly fair, he was far from handsome.
It was inappropriate to reveal the owner's appearance directly in front of outsiders, so he could only be vague and nod somewhat reluctantly, "Uh, I wonder if Master has something to discuss with our manager?"
"It's nothing." Wen Kong shook his head. Since he had already asked, he might as well get to the bottom of it. His gaze fell on the waiter's face. "Just asking casually. Is the manager treating your accountant fairly?"
"Of course! It couldn't be better!" The waiter perked up immediately at this, as their boss was known throughout the entire street for his filial piety.
He puffed out his chest, feeling proud. "Every meal is served with fish, meat and delicacies. The shopkeeper is afraid that he will go hungry during his free time, so he keeps all kinds of fine snacks and treats in the room all year round. In winter, he is afraid that he will get cold, so he only keeps the floor heated in the accounting room."
Actually, their shopkeeper didn't want his father to come to the shop to work on the accounts anymore, fearing it would tire the old man out. But the old gentleman was worried about his business and insisted on coming to oversee things.
Hearing that the shopkeeper was so considerate and attentive to her, Wen Kong thought that he might be the man who had tea with her last time. He seemed to be a gentle person, and that little bit of joy turned into a sour and swollen feeling.
He nodded slightly. "That's good, that's good."
The waiter, looking bewildered, watched the ethereal-looking monk turn and disappear into the deepening night. Suddenly remembering something, he took two steps forward and called out, "Master! I haven't yet asked your Dharma name. How should I mention you to our accountant?"
Wen Kong didn't turn around, but simply raised his hand and waved it gently behind him. The hem of his gray-blue monk's robe brushed against the stone slab, and his voice carried on the wind, "There's no need to mention her Dharma name. Just say it was given to her by her master. She'll know for sure."
The shopkeeper, holding the jar of ointment, stared at the monk's departing figure, stunned for a long while before scratching his head and clicking his tongue in amazement, "A sixty-year-old accountant actually took such a young master to learn Buddhism? Truly, one should learn until old age, what a sincere heart!"
-
That night, all was quiet.
Wen Kong sat cross-legged on the couch, his mind a jumble of thoughts.
Her scent lingered on the pillows, on the bedding, and even in every breath of air in this small space—a warm, pervasive fragrance that became a more disturbing obsession than any other trouble.
He simply got up, put on his coat, went out, and climbed the mountain alone under the cold moonlight to reach the wishing well.
The pond was pitch black under the night sky. The lotus lanterns that had carried countless wishes during the day yesterday were now extinguished and their light gone, like waterlogged remains, dim and lifeless, drifting and piling up helplessly with the cold waves.
There was no one by the pond, only the mournful sound of the mountain wind whistling through the bare branches.
Wen Kong lifted the hem of his monk's robe and stepped into the icy pool water. The water instantly soaked through his cloth socks and trouser legs, the chill piercing his bones like needles.
He seemed oblivious, and with a dim, flickering lantern in his hand, he bent down and carefully, one by one, parted the floating lotus lanterns, examining the damp paper on them.
My clothes were soaked, and my fingertips were numb.
He didn't know why he came, or what he was so determined to expect, but his thoughts drove him here.
After an unknown amount of time, just as the faint light was about to be blown out by the mountain wind, Wen Kong's gaze finally settled on the last half-submerged, plain lotus lantern in the pond.
A corner of the lamp paper revealed his familiar handwriting, identical to his own.
Wen Kong gently scooped it up, carefully wiped away the water droplets, and, by the flickering lamplight, slowly unfolded and smoothed the soft, damp lamp paper.
In the dim light, three lines of small characters appeared:
My first wish is for my mother to be safe and healthy.
My second wish is that Fourth Sister's monthly income will always be plentiful.
My three wishes…
Wen Kong's gaze paused on the third line, and his fingertips trembled.
"...My third wish is that he can love me as I love him."
Love me as much as I love you...
It struck him unexpectedly.
A sudden, biting mountain wind caused the lamplight to flicker violently, casting his tall, solitary figure onto the cold water and the pool walls, shattering and indeterminate.
Wen Kong held the soaked lamp paper and stood in the center of the cold pond, motionless for a long time.
who is he?
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