“No,” Chen Hede said with certainty, staring intently into Xu Zhuohua’s eyes. “You were different from other women back then. You didn’t seem like someone who had never seen the world. On the contrary, you seemed like someone who had seen all sorts of people and only cared about whether the things in front of you could arouse your interest.”
Xu Zhuohua asked, somewhat puzzled, "What do you mean?"
The steam rising from the teacups condensed into white mist between the two men. Chen Hede suddenly leaned forward, and the wind from his suit sleeves scattered the wisps of tea fragrance.
The chill surging in his phoenix eyes was like ice frozen on a lake in the twelfth lunar month, yet his pupils trembled slightly in the twilight. Xu Zhuohua's neck rested against the carved chair back, and he could clearly see the platinum cufflinks pinned to the other's collar.
“I can’t really explain it either.” Chen Hede’s voice sounded like it came from deep within his chest, with a rough, hoarse quality. “I always feel that you are completely at ease, as if nothing can interest you. Things that other women consider huge are just like a speck of dust on your sleeve to you.”
Xu Zhuohua stared at her reflection in the other's pupils—a pale face, unfocused eyes, like a puppet whose soul had been taken away.
Chen Hede sat behind the one-way glass countless times, watching the criminals' faces contort under pressure; those evasive eyes and trembling fingertips could not escape his eyes.
But now, facing Xu Zhuohua, he felt as if he were staring into a bottomless, icy pool, and all his usual mind-reading skills were in vain.
The shadow cast by her eyelashes as she lowered her gaze seemed to overlap with those he had convicted, yet they were so different—those people had fear in their eyes, while hers held only a deathly stillness.
Xu Zhuohua twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, the curve of her lips carrying a hint of teasing and a touch of composure.
She picked up her teacup and took a sip, the rising steam blurring the butterfly shadows cast by her eyelashes beneath her eyes: "Does that mean my fortune is at its peak, that even you, who have interrogated countless prisoners, cannot see through me?"
Chen Hede gazed at the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, which had once been filled with timidity. Now, those eyes were cunningly reflecting his tense face, like a dagger dipped in moonlight, silently piercing through his carefully maintained scrutinizing posture.
"Even if you have great fortune." He lowered his head and finished the remaining tea. As the bitterness spread on his tongue, he heard Xu Zhuohua chuckle.
...
Xu Zhuohua dared not delay for a moment. After delivering Chen Hede's batch of weapons, she rushed to Beiping without stopping, enduring wind and rain along the way, just to reach her destination as soon as possible.
Under Xu Jixiao's leadership, the eastern route to the north has been largely completed through meticulous planning and tireless efforts.
Although the speed of freight transport is not as fast as that of the eastbound-to-southbound route, it is already quite fast compared to the speed of general freight transport.
Moreover, the business on the eastbound and northbound routes was very clean, and the types of goods transported were very limited. In addition to exquisite items such as silk and porcelain, there were daily necessities such as grain and fur, and occasionally some medicinal herbs.
The transportation of these goods not only ensured the supply of materials to Beiping, but also brought substantial profits to the Xu family.
As the eldest son of the Xu family, Xu Jixiao's abilities are beyond doubt.
His ability and talent are evident in the fact that he was able to build the northern route of the eastward journey so well through his wisdom and hard work.
It's only natural that they were able to obtain the family heirloom jade pendant.
After all, establishing the northern route eastward is much more difficult than adjusting the plan for the southern route.
The construction of the Dongxing North Line faced numerous difficulties and challenges, such as complex terrain, harsh weather, and an unstable market. However, Xu Jixiao overcame these difficulties with his perseverance and tenacity, and transformed the Dongxing North Line into another important industry for the Xu family.
Even modern people like Xu Zhuohua are ashamed of their own abilities; Xu Jixiao is indeed a capable person.
When Xu Zhuohua went to Beiping, in addition to handing over his plans for the eastward and southward route to Xu Jixiao, he also wanted to meet Xiao Wuxin.
She thought that she might never have the chance to see this great man again.
A figure who can correct centuries of backwardness and even lay the foundation for future development.
Xu Zhuohua felt more than once that her rebirth this time was absolutely worth it!
Who are Xiao Wuxin and Chen Hede? And what about Hu Moli, Mei Heming, and even the entire Xu family? Getting to know any of them wouldn't be a loss.
What's more, by some twist of fate, she won someone's heart.
In late spring, the wind and sand swept across the mottled city walls of Beiping. Xiao Wuxin leaned against the crooked trunk of an old locust tree, his faded gray cloth robe fluttering in the wind.
Her once plump cheeks were now sunken, and her cheekbones protruded, pushing up her loose skin like tree bark wrinkled by the scorching sun. Her bright eyes, now bloodshot, still burned like two inextinguishable flames in their deep-set sockets.
Xu Zhuohua walked through the bustling crowd, her moon-white cheongsam billowing gently in the wind and sand.
Xiao Wuxin's cloudy pupils suddenly contracted, as if a dying person had seen the dawn of life. A bright smile appeared on his lips, as if the warm April sun had pierced through the haze.
"Zhuohua!" His voice was filled with barely suppressed joy, and his waving arms were like stubborn reeds in the wind.
The old locust tree branches cast interlaced shadows over his head, but they couldn't hide the burning light in his eyes—the joy of a long-awaited reunion.
The wind and sand swept past the two of them, carrying fallen leaves. Xu Zhuohua looked at Xiao Wuxin's sunken cheeks and felt a little heartache.
Xu Zhuohua was wearing a thin dress and a cashmere cardigan. It was even colder in Beiping than in Dongzhou.
Xiao Wuxin was only wearing a worn-out cotton-padded long gown, his hair was combed back, revealing his smooth forehead, and he looked extremely energetic.
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