Although it was already night, the sweltering heat of the dog days of summer showed no signs of abating, like a dense, airtight net covering the entire city.
The air was thick and hot, each breath carrying a scorching temperature. The skin felt sticky and uncomfortable, as if it had been licked by a scorching hot ox. The lingering stickiness made one feel suffocated.
The group decided to move to the rooftop of the station to rest.
Next to it stood an old flower stand, weathered by wind and sun for countless years. Vines climbed the wooden frame, and now it was adorned with many delicate pink flowers, their petals as thin as cicada wings, exuding a shy and charming innocence in the hazy moonlight.
Xu Zhuohua couldn't remember the name of the flower, but she thought it looked pleasing. She always remembered to water it and watched it sprout one after another, which made her feel a little happier.
She sat down next to Cheng Muyun, initially wanting to lean closer to him, but as soon as she moved, a layer of fine sweat appeared on the back of her neck, sticking to her stray hairs. She had no choice but to give up and sit properly, only subtly moving her elbows toward him.
Cheng Muyun held an old palm-leaf fan in his hand. The fan surface was a bit worn, but he fanned himself very steadily.
He didn't speak, but turned slightly to the side, directing most of the fanned air towards Xu Zhuohua.
The wind carried the unique coolness of a rooftop night breeze, mixed with the faint chirping of cicadas in the distance. As it brushed against her cheeks, it finally dispelled some of the heat. Xu Zhuohua's tense shoulders slowly relaxed, and the irritability caused by the heat in her heart gradually faded away.
Chen Hede, sitting in the corner, seemed to be covered in thorns, keeping a distance from them, holding an empty teacup in his hand, his knuckles white.
He probably couldn't stand Cheng Muyun and Xu Zhuohua's oblivious intimacy, so he kept his head down, staring at the streetlights in the distance, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.
Xu Jixin wasn't so particular. He sat on the ground with a swagger, a paper packet spread out in front of him, cracking sunflower seeds and muttering grumbling under his breath, repeatedly saying the words "Lan Qingyi".
"That bastard is truly vicious, a typical smiling tiger! I think he's ten times more difficult to deal with than Zhou Minhai!" He spat the sunflower seed shells onto the ground, raising his voice even higher.
Xu Zhuohua glanced at the mountain of sunflower seed shells piled up at his feet and couldn't help but say, "Second brother, you've been scolding him for almost half an hour. Aren't you thirsty? There's some herbal tea over there."
Upon hearing this, Xu Jixin grabbed the rough porcelain teacup next to him, tilted his head back and gulped down more than half of it. He wiped his mouth and said, "Just thinking about his face makes me angry. The more I curse him, the more energetic I become. I don't even care about being thirsty!"
Cheng Muyun paused with the palm-leaf fan in his hand, and sighed softly: "Lan Qingyi is indeed troublesome. He is much more cunning than Zhou Minhai. Zhou Minhai is open about things, but he specializes in tripping people up in the dark."
"It's more than just insidious."
Chen Hede finally spoke from the corner, his tone full of sarcasm, "He doesn't even tell the truth to his own allies. He says one thing to the French consul and another to Zhu Zhishui. I heard that Zhu Zhishui has been having a lot of headaches lately and has cursed him in secret several times as an ungrateful wretch."
A glint of light suddenly flashed in Cheng Muyun's eyes as he became interested: "So, he's a two-faced character? Does that mean there are quite a few people like Zhu Zhishui who no longer want to cooperate with him?"
Chen Hede shook his head: "That's hard to say. But one thing is certain: Lan Qingyi is hiding a lot of things. He has never opened his heart to anyone. We have been investigating for so long, and we still haven't figured out how much wealth he has."
“Yes,” Cheng Muyun frowned again, “I sent people to investigate his warlord connections, but we still have no clue. We don’t know which side he’s connected with.”
Xu Jixin stuffed the last handful of melon seeds into his mouth and chewed them hard: "No matter who he's colluding with, one thing is for sure—he went to all this trouble and gathered so many men, it's obvious he wants to get rid of you, no, he wants to kill you! Once he really has power over the Dongzhou Army, won't he be able to do whatever he wants?"
Upon hearing this, Cheng Muyun chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in his eyes: "He doesn't just want to mess with me, he wishes he could skin me alive. However, the Dongzhou Army is not a piece of fat meat that he can swallow so easily."
A night breeze blew through the flower trellis, carrying a very light floral fragrance, which, mixed with the warmth in the air, created a somewhat indescribable feeling.
The people on the rooftop were each lost in their own thoughts, with only the palm-leaf fan still gently waving, stirring a tiny ripple in the sweltering night.
Xu Zhuohua felt as if something had gently stung her heart, a sour feeling welled up in her throat, and her eyes instantly became hot.
Cheng Muyun held the Dongzhou Army in his hands. This force was his source of confidence and also a protective shield for her.
But as the saying goes, the taller the tree, the more the wind blows. This great power attracted the covetous eyes of wolves and jackals, becoming a burden he couldn't shake off.
She couldn't help but wonder, if Cheng Muyun were just an ordinary young marshal, and the Dongzhou Army weren't so outspoken, could they have avoided so much strife and lived peacefully?
But then I thought, Cheng Muyun has never been one to be content with mediocrity.
His inherent tenacity and ambition destined him to stir up trouble in this chaotic world.
Perhaps, from the moment he took over the Dongzhou Army, it was all destined, something he could neither avoid nor escape.
Her gaze fell on the palm-leaf fan that Cheng Muyun was gently waving in his hand. The breeze created by the fan's movement could not dispel the indescribable bitterness in her heart.
The man in front of her was too outstanding to behold. His ability and his spirit were enough to inspire respect, but they also inevitably attracted jealousy and resentment. Wasn't Lan Qingyi, who was now being driven into a thorn in someone's side by his excellence?
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