Wronged
It's really like seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
Zhao Fanghua looked at the dark figure in the rain with an expression of disbelief on his face.
She could never have imagined that Zhao Qinglan would actually come to find her, let alone that he would actually be able to find her.
The peaceful life of the past year was suddenly broken.
She almost subconsciously wanted to turn around and run, but when her eyes met his wet and miserable appearance, her footsteps had already taken a step forward before she realized it.
Zhao Fanghua grabbed the oil-paper umbrella by the door and rushed into the rain. The umbrella opened, trapping the two of them in a small space.
She was so angry that she was shaking all over. She reached out to pull at his soaked sleeve and said, "Are you crazy? You don't know how to use an umbrella when it rains. You have to get soaked to the skin to feel happy?"
Zhao Qinglan didn't say anything and let her pull him, just pursing his lips and looking at her stubbornly.
Drops of water rolled down his forehead and across the slightly red corners of his eyes, making him look like a child who was wronged but refused to admit defeat. His black robe clung to his body, outlining his thin yet upright figure.
"What are you looking at!" Zhao Fanghua felt uneasy when he stared at her, but her tone softened unconsciously.
She stood on tiptoe and wiped the rain off his face with her sleeve, her movements gentle. "You're already so wet... Come back with me and change into clean clothes."
Zhao Qinglan remained silent, but held her hand tightly when she turned around.
"Who is this..." Chai Xingyuan asked in confusion as he looked at the man who was hurriedly pulled into the pharmacy by Zhao Fanghua.
Zhao Fanghua pretended to be calm, leaned the umbrella against the door, and tried to make her voice sound more natural: "He is me..."
She opened her mouth, but was stunned when the word "brother" was about to come out.
Yes, she and Zhao Qinglan had no relationship at all.
Besides, the eldest princess had passed away during her journey away from the mountain a year ago.
Zhao Fanghua's eyes darkened, his lips moved, and after a moment's hesitation he said, "My... a friend."
As soon as he finished speaking, the hand that had been holding her suddenly tightened.
She turned around hurriedly, but saw that his eyes were red and he was staring at her. There was ecstasy of regaining what he had lost, anger that had been suppressed for a long time, and a hint of grievance that was barely noticeable.
At this time, Zhu Shuang came over with a bowl of steaming ginger soup, but Zhao Qinglan seemed not to hear her. She just gripped Zhao Fanghua's wrist even harder, with such force that she frowned slightly.
"Drink some ginger soup first to drive away the cold." Zhao Fanghua hurriedly took the bowl from Zhu Shuang and advised.
Zhao Qinglan remained silent.
Zhu Shuang's eyes fell sharply on Zhao Qinglan's black robe, which was made of high-quality material and workmanship. She also caught a glimpse of the indescribable tension between him and Zhao Fanghua, and she had some guesses in her mind.
She quickly smiled and tried to smooth things over, trying to lighten the mood: "Little brother, this autumn rain has brought a chill, and you're soaked all over. It's better to take a shower and change clothes early to avoid catching a cold."
"Go ahead." Zhao Fanghua quickly echoed the advice.
Zhao Qinglan's Adam's apple rolled violently, and his face was so gloomy that water seemed to drip out of it. He seemed extremely dissatisfied with her perfunctory attitude.
His gaze finally shifted away from Zhao Fanghua, and he slowly scanned the people present. His eyes were filled with scrutiny and distance, and finally fell back on Zhao Fanghua's face. His tone was unquestionable: "You, come here."
Zhao Fanghua sighed inwardly, knowing she couldn't persuade him. Helplessly, she let him hold her hand tightly, carefully holding the bowl of ginger soup with the other hand, and led him to the bathroom in the backyard.
While Zhao Qinglan was bathing, Zhao Fanghua sat alone on the threshold outside. Raindrops dripped from the eaves, creating tiny splashes on the bluestone slabs. She hugged her knees, her chin resting on them, staring at the continuous downpour in a trance.
How could he be here? And why did he come? For the past year, she had lived in seclusion, believing she hadn't revealed any flaws.
Did he never give up looking? This thought made her heart tremble, and she couldn't tell whether it was fear or something else.
Zhao Fanghua scratched her hair irritably as she thought about it. Over the past year, she had grown accustomed to the peaceful life in Qingyuan Town and the warmth given by the Chai family. Was this going to end with his arrival?
"Sister, come in." A low voice came from inside the door, interrupting Zhao Fanghua's thoughts.
"I'm coming!" She responded almost reflexively, stood up and pushed the door open. Only then did she realize why he still called her "Ajie"?
In the bathroom, Zhao Qinglan had already changed into Chai Xingyuan's clean clothes. He seemed taller and thinner than a year ago. Chai Xingyuan's clothes were noticeably too short for him, revealing a slender ankle. The waist was even emptier, making his shoulders appear broad, his waist narrow, and his figure appear taller.
His long, damp hair cascaded over his shoulders, water droplets trickling down his neck and into his collar. The dim candlelight illuminated his sharply defined profile. His youthful innocence had completely faded, replaced by a calm, reserved maturity. His eyes were deep, churning with complex emotions Zhao Fanghua couldn't fathom.
"What's wrong?" Zhao Fanghua suppressed the strange feeling in his heart and asked calmly.
Zhao Qinglan lowered her eyes slightly and said in a hoarse voice, "Help me wipe my hair."
"Oh." Zhao Fanghua hesitated for a moment, but still walked forward, took the towel he handed over, stood behind him and began to gently wipe his hair.
His hair was softer and smoother than I had imagined, black and thick, with a faint fragrance of osmanthus hair oil, mixed with the fresh scent of soapberries from his fresh shower, it smelled very good.
Zhao Qinglan frowned slightly, looked around the simply furnished bathroom, then silently picked up the candlestick on the table and raised it to a suitable height to illuminate her.
With the help of the stable warm yellow halo, Zhao Fanghua could see the condition of his hair more clearly and look at him more boldly.
His hair was very long, almost reaching his waist, which made him look even more noble. After not seeing him for a year, his features had become more refined and handsome, but his face was a little pale, and there was a dark spot under his eyes.
The room was completely silent, with only the gentle sound of a towel brushing against hair and the occasional crackle of a candle flame.
This excessive silence made Zhao Fanghua feel a little flustered.
She cleared her throat and began to make small talk: "In the storybooks I used to read, if the heroine disguised herself as a man and ventured into the martial arts world, there would always be a scene where her headband was accidentally removed, letting her hair fall down, and then everyone would exclaim, 'She's actually a woman!' But men also have long hair, so how can we determine their gender based on this alone?"
Zhao Qinglan listened quietly. After a moment, his deep voice echoed, "Men and women are inherently different in appearance. Men with feminine or masculine features are rare, after all. No matter how hard you try to disguise yourself, it's hard to conceal your true nature." He paused, as if remembering something, and a faint smile lingered in his voice. "Besides, true disguise isn't easy."
After saying this, his mind suddenly flashed back to the time he had seen her dressed in men's clothes in a teahouse in Beijing a long time ago, and a ripple inexplicably arose in his heart.
After a long time, Zhao Fanghua felt her wrists getting sore, so she stopped. She rubbed her wrists gently and said, "My hands are sore, you can wipe the rest yourself. It's really hard to dry your hair so long."
Zhao Qinglan heard this and looked up at her.
His gaze finally fell on the scar on her forehead.
He raised his hand, his slender fingers trembling slightly, wanting to touch the scar, but the moment his fingertips were about to touch her skin, he suddenly curled his fingers back.
His eyes were filled with heartache and self-blame, and his voice was extremely hoarse: "Does it hurt?"
Zhao Fanghua touched the scar on his forehead and smiled casually, "It's all gone now. Compared to losing my life, this little injury is really nothing."
"A minor injury?" Zhao Qinglan's eyes darkened suddenly, and his voice was filled with suppressed pain. "How can it be a minor injury that can leave such a deep mark?"
Zhao Qinglan could see clearly that although the scar had healed, the wound must have been very deep at the time.
He couldn't imagine how terrified and desperate she must have felt falling from such a high cliff.
He was the instigator of everything that happened, but he failed to protect her.
Zhao Fanghua looked at the self-blame and pain in his eyes, lowered her head in a panic, and her hand unconsciously twirled a strand of his wet hair.
Silence fell again.
Zhao Qinglan looked deeply at her drooping brows and cautious appearance, and the emotions that had been suppressed in his heart for a long time could no longer be suppressed.
"Why don't you come back?" His voice was filled with suppressed anger and even a hint of grievance. "Why don't you come find me? Do you know how long I've been looking for you? You know me!"
He paused, swallowing back the words "almost all over the world", and instead softened his voice and said, "Do you know how worried I am?"
There was a fear in his tone of mind of having lost and regained something, and even a hint of grievance of being abandoned.
Zhao Fanghua's body stiffened, her eyes flickered, and she looked around and said something else: "When I woke up, I heard that I was dead... I thought you wanted to..." Her voice became smaller and smaller, "wanted to silence me..." The last three words were almost inaudible.
This was her deepest fear and the reason why she chose to escape.
"You know I can't!" Zhao Qinglan suddenly raised his voice.
A trace of hurt flashed in his eyes, as if he was stabbed by her distrust, and his voice was filled with grievance: "How could I hurt you..."
Zhao Fanghua was startled by his sudden excitement and shrank back, but she couldn't help but mutter in rebuttal: "Then... then why did the assassin suddenly appear? How could it be such a coincidence? Do you dare to say... that it has nothing to do with you?"
She was not really a fool, and she always had doubts about that "accident".
Zhao Qinglan was stunned by her question and fell silent.
After a moment, the corners of his lips curled up in a self-deprecating arc, his eyes dimmed: "If I really wanted to kill you, I would have given you a cup of poisoned wine. Why go to so much trouble?"
Zhao Fanghua's eyes widened when he heard this: "See! You really thought about it!"
"You!" Zhao Qinglan was speechless for a moment.
Looking at her provocative look, he felt angry and helpless, and more of a deep sense of powerlessness.
He wanted to explain the truth behind the assassination, wanted to tell her how he had spent the past year, wanted to tell her...
Just as he was organizing his words and wanted to say something, Zhu Shuang's gentle voice came from outside the door: "Fanghua, come out for dinner."
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