He wore a plain-colored long gown and a large straw hat with the brim pulled low, covering most of his face.
Xu Zhuohua squinted and saw that he had a bulging cloth bag slung across his shoulder. It looked heavy, as if it was carrying a thousand-pound burden. Even the hull of the boat was weighed down and the side of the boat was almost touching the water.
The man was very tall, yet he stood as steady as a rock on the narrow stern of the boat.
Xu Zhuohua's heart skipped a beat, as if something had gently bumped into it. She subconsciously leaned forward, her gaze fixed on that figure.
Is it him?
No... She shook her head inwardly, but couldn't help staring at the lines peeking out from under the straw hat—the jawline was taut, with a somewhat rugged profile, almost like...
The small boat drifted slowly and steadily, and in the blink of an eye, it reached the dock outside the clinic.
The boatman stuck a bamboo pole into the water to stabilize the boat. The man raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, then looked up and gazed across the water toward the second floor.
The moment their eyes met, Xu Zhuohua saw that face clearly.
With well-defined eyebrows and a high nose bridge, but dark circles under his eyes and a deep weariness and confusion between his brows, it was Chen Hede.
She frowned slightly, and the inexplicable tremor in her eyes vanished instantly, leaving only a calm coolness.
She almost forgot that after the fire in Xinhai City, everyone thought that Xu Zhuohua was dead.
The Cheng family even held a grand funeral for her. Lying in the coffin was Hu Moli, whose face was burned beyond recognition—they couldn't even recognize her.
Xu Zhuohua lowered her eyes, her fingertips unconsciously picking at the hem of her clothes.
In that brief moment, before she could see who it was, she had a faint, almost absurd, expectation—she actually hoped that the person standing at the bow of the ship was Cheng Muyun.
At that moment, she almost believed him, believed that he would come looking for her, just like countless times before, walking through the crowd and straight up to her.
Xu Zhuohua stepped back from the window, moved unsteadily to the armchair by the window, and sat down. As soon as her back touched the back of the chair, she sighed softly.
The breath was so light that it was almost inaudible in the breeze passing through the hall, yet it felt like a piece of damp cotton, pressing heavily on her heart.
That fire destroyed more than just houses and the past; it also destroyed the last remaining connection between her and Cheng Muyun.
It burned through, like firewood chopped by a sharp axe, the broken edge charred black, making it difficult to piece back together.
She can't say whether she feels resentment or lingering resentment; she just feels empty inside, as if a piece of her heart has been ripped out, and cold wind is blowing straight into it.
She didn't want to look for Cheng Muyun, didn't want to hear anyone talk about Xinhai City, and even less did she want to be drawn into those tangled and complicated fates again.
She just wanted to sit or lie down like this, ideally sleeping for a full 24 hours a day, without having to think about anything or face anything.
This kind of exhaustion wasn't just a soreness in the skin; it was a feeling that welled up from the bottom of her heart, flowing through her veins and draining all her strength.
Even raising my hand to tidy my sideburns feels like a struggle.
Not long after, light footsteps came from downstairs, each step making a soft creaking sound on the wooden stairs.
Xu Zhuohua raised her eyes slightly—it wasn't Xinghua's light, quick steps, nor was it Doctor Liu's steady gait; the footsteps were hesitant and awkward, carrying a hint of tension.
"Knock knock." The door was gently knocked on.
The door was pushed open, and Chen Hede stood in the doorway, tall but slightly hunched, as if the weight he carried had bent his spine.
His hands were trembling when he entered, and he avoided looking at her, clearly filled with anxiety.
It has been half a month since he quietly moved her from the vicinity of the fire to this lakeside clinic, and this is the first time he has dared to come and see her.
He had imagined her reaction countless times—perhaps she would scold him, perhaps she would look at him coldly, perhaps she would treat him as a stranger from then on—but he never expected it to be like this.
Xu Zhuohua sat there quietly, her plain clothes making her face appear even paler.
Those eyes, once bright and sparkling with starlight, are now covered with a thick layer of gray, like ashes that have burned out, devoid of any light.
She exuded an indescribable sense of dejection, like a flower struck by frost, its petals drooping listlessly, its branches seemingly powerless, as if it would wither away completely at any moment.
Chen Hede's heart sank.
He found this appearance somewhat familiar.
A few days ago, he secretly went to the Cheng family ancestral graves and saw Cheng Muyun from afar.
Wearing a loose mourning dress, kneeling in front of Xu Zhuohua's "tombstone," his back was hunched, his eyes were empty, and his whole body exuded the same aura: a kind of soulless, lifeless decadence.
The fact that the two people, who were separated, both expressed this feeling made Chen Hede's guilt even more indescribable.
He wondered if he shouldn't hide Xu Zhuohua.
Xu Zhuohua looked at Chen Hede's reddened eyes, a very faint smile appeared on her lips, and then she slowly nodded.
The smile was light, like willow catkins falling on a lake, instantly melting into the stillness in her eyes, yet it clearly conveyed her meaning—she didn't blame him.
Chen Hede's heart sank even further as a result.
The calmer and gentler she was, the more he felt a lump in his throat.
He turned his face away, quickly wiped the corner of his eye, and then took out a stack of newspapers from the cloth bag on his shoulder. The edges of the pages were worn and frayed, obviously from being repeatedly read and handled.
He gently placed the newspaper on the small table in front of Xu Zhuohua, his fingertips still trembling slightly.
The sights he had witnessed in Xinhai City these past few days, and Cheng Muyun's distraught appearance, made even this grown man's heart clench. He dared not tell her about them in person, so he could only hand her these printed papers and let her see for herself.
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