Chapter 43 His Ranga slept peacefully in his arms.
It was a photo taken from a distance, with the person involved completely unaware of it, and their posture was the most relaxed and natural.
The girl seemed to be fast asleep, her body limp, leaning unguarded against the shoulder of the person beside her. To make her more comfortable, the young boy next to her also leaned most of his body over, his head touching hers, their hair brushing against each other. To outsiders, they looked like an intimate and natural couple, snuggling together.
In the dimly lit carriage, the phone screen went off and then on again.
Meng Cenjun tilted her head back slightly, leaning weakly against the wall. Her tie had been violently ripped off earlier, and her collar was loose, revealing a section of her pale, porcelain-colored neck. Though she didn't speak, her chest was clearly heaving, and her breathing was unsteady.
Knowing it would sting his eyes, he looked at the photo again and again. Because it went against his instincts, the pain surged up, forcefully invading every nerve in his body, and it was excruciating.
When did it start? When did I become so concerned? And when did I develop such intense jealousy?
Is this the kind of feelings an older brother should have for his younger sister?
In his thirty years of life, he had never experienced such a feeling before. It was too unfamiliar, like a forbidden land covered with damp moss, which he could not set foot in, could not verify, and left him with no chance to understand his strange feelings.
Even if you don't understand, there's always a voice in your heart, firmly reminding you again and again.
Lan Jia, my younger sister.
His Ranga.
Even in her sleep, she should be by his side, within his sight, or in his arms, in his embrace.
He would never allow anyone to covet her, desire her, or take her away.
Because she was his only remaining family member in the world.
Jealousy and possessiveness raged together, and Meng Cenjun suppressed her emotions and forced herself to remain calm as she made a phone call.
"Investigate this person thoroughly."
Upon receiving Song Qingqu's name and photo, the person on the other end quickly agreed.
At the same time, the car stopped, and the driver respectfully said, "Sir, we have arrived at the Yi residence."
Meng Cenjun straightened up, smoothed out the tie that was scattered on the chair, and meticulously retied it.
Take a deep breath, open the door, and step out of the car with your perfectly straight trousers.
The Yi family's residence is a landscape garden-style mansion that incorporates architectural styles from famous gardens of the Ming and Qing dynasties. Due to the preferences and fondness of previous generations, many landscaping techniques from Elm Garden and Couple Garden were specially adopted when the house was built.
Meng Cenjun gazed at the dim lights in the courtyard, standing in the night breeze like a tall, dark bamboo in a traditional Chinese ink painting.
He completely eliminated the resentment, frustration, and jealousy he had felt earlier, sealing them away tightly inside the carriage.
When it comes to serious matters, he always seems like a completely different person.
This wasn't her first time here. The servant opened the door, and Meng Cenjun walked in with practiced ease. The winding paths and flowers offered a picturesque view at every turn.
In fact, many years ago, when the Yi couple first brought him to their home to celebrate their birthday, he couldn't help but fall in love with the place. The Yi residence was quiet, elegant, and refined; even after staying there for a long time, one wouldn't feel any gloom or disorder. Although both families had established backgrounds, the Meng family was oppressive all day long, with much infighting. No matter how much gold and jade they accumulated, it was ultimately a murky and suffocating place.
But this time, my state of mind was different.
Perhaps he was an outsider, perhaps he wasn't accompanied by Lan Jia, perhaps his original guides had all passed away. He walked here alone, yet found no sense of belonging.
The Meng residence is no longer his home, nor is the Yi residence. Even if he once had hopes and thought of making this place his home, he can no longer do so.
Only when Lan Jia is by his side, no matter where he is, does he truly feel like he has a home.
If she ever found out the truth, would she still acknowledge him? Would she still want him? He simply couldn't bear to think about it.
The further he went, the closer he got to the truth, and the more he felt like a piece of duckweed, swaying precariously in the cool air, adrift and helpless.
"Young Master Cen." A voice approaching him interrupted his thoughts.
The woman who arrived was Chunyu Xiu, the housekeeper of the Yi residence. She was a tall, slender middle-aged woman with a diamond-shaped face and upturned eyebrows. Having served the old lady for many years, she was highly experienced and held a high position. She always had a stern and unsmiling demeanor, and Lan Jia had been most afraid of her since childhood. Years ago, when he came to the old house to pick up Lan Jia, it was she who stood at a distance, holding Lan Jia's hand, refusing to let her leave. He vividly remembered her looking at him with teary eyes, powerless to approach him. This hidden thorn had been embedded in his heart for many years, and consequently, he harbored little goodwill towards this housekeeper.
Nevertheless, Meng Cenjun did not lose her manners and nodded in response, "Aunt Xiu."
"The old lady is at Lianxuan. Let me take you there."
He grunted in response, and the two remained distant, not exchanging any further words.
As I walked into the garden, a fragrant aroma of flowers mingled with the night breeze.
The tuberoses are in bloom, filling the air with a sweet, powdery scent. A quick glance around reveals that the flowerbeds also contain many jasmine, magnolia, roses, and Murraya paniculata, all blooming in perfect season, their colors delicately arranged.
Perhaps it had been too long since she had smelled the fragrance of flowers, and her sensitive nose detected it precisely. Meng Cenjun frowned, her first instinct being disgust. Lan Jia couldn't touch flowers, and not even a single leaf could appear in her house, yet here, in her Yi family's mansion, flowers bloomed unrestrainedly.
He has a natural aversion to anything that is detrimental to her.
The garden is large, and further on, there are rockeries and water features. It's currently under renovation, and the valves are closed, so the artificial waterfall isn't flowing and you can't hear the water. That's why the cat's meow in the darkness is especially noticeable.
Meng Cenjun stopped in his tracks, tilted his head slightly upwards, and saw a snow-white lion cat lying on a dark gray rock. It was fat and lazy, with unusual heterochromia, and it casually meowed at him.
This place is like my own backyard; it's clearly not something that sneaked in from outside.
When Aunt Xiu saw this, she casually explained, "They were raised by the old lady. She's been living alone and lonely these past few years, and since the eldest young lady rarely comes back, she raised a few to keep her company."
Upon seeing the cat, he changed his tone, raising his voice to scold, "You've eaten and drunk your fill, and you're nowhere to be seen all day long. You've gone wild!"
The lion cat seemed to understand, let out an angry howl, and ran away.
Meng Cenjun also heard this and paid attention, feeling that there was a double meaning in her words.
Is she resentful that he took Lan Jia away and never came back? Or is she angry that he prevented her from enjoying family life?
He also felt a surge of resentment for no apparent reason.
With Lan Jia gone, she could still tend to her flowers, raise cats, and find people to keep her company and amuse her whenever she wanted. With Qiao Zimu gone, finding all sorts of people to keep her entertained was a piece of cake. Without Lan Jia, she still lived a vibrant and fulfilling life. But he couldn't. He'd been so used to this one person for years; he simply didn't know how he could live without her. Why did she have to compete with him? Clearly, no one in the world needed her more than him! He secretly clenched his jaw, a deep resentment rising within him, as if everyone was trying to steal away his one and only beloved.
No matter how much negotiation or pressure is put on him, even if he loses all face, he won't give up easily.
Meng Cenjun's face was tense as she looked at the two characters "Lianxuan" on the sandalwood plaque and walked up the steps one by one.
Pushing open the door, directly in front of me, sat an old lady on a daybed. She adjusted her glasses and smiled affectionately, "Little Cen, you're here?"
Meng Cenjun felt a little uneasy at their seemingly nonchalant attitude.
He maintained his respectful demeanor, responded, and went to find a round-backed armchair to sit down.
The old lady instructed the servants to bring tea, then lowered her head to attend to her own business. The air was cold and quiet, as if she was deliberately leaving him hanging.
Meng Cenjun had no choice but to wait, looking around at the square room. There weren't many decorations, but they were simple and elegant. A daybed was placed by the window, and one of the several ice-cracked plum blossom windows was open, leading to a lotus pond outside. Occasionally, the croaking of frogs could be heard in the summer night.
A gentle breeze wafted outside the window, and under the soft, warm light, an old woman lay a thick photo album open on her lap, flipping through the pages as if searching for something.
The servants came in and placed two cups of tea on their respective small tables.
Meng Cenjun lifted the lid, and small chrysanthemums floated in the celadon porcelain cup. The flowers were pure white with green stems, and they swelled up in the hot water, releasing a faint, bitter aroma.
"I planted some white chrysanthemums when I had nothing to do. Last year I harvested a small patch and dried it. It's not good to drink strong tea at night, so I brewed some."
Meng Cenjun nodded and took a sip.
The old lady glanced at him and said, "A few hydrangea bushes have come to the garden. I'm planning to transplant them myself. Xiao Cen, why don't you stay for a few days and help me prune them?"
Was this a deliberate attempt to trap him? To prevent him from contacting Lan Jia? Meng Cenjun remained silent.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you visit. I imagine you're here with a lot of questions. Why don't I take these next few days to answer them one by one?"
She did know something.
Then, remembering that she had come to seek verification, Meng Cenjun finally agreed.
Meng Cenjun stood up, took the photo, and examined it carefully.
The background looks like a Christmas party scene, with cedar wreaths and bright red bows adorning the stair pillars. A man and a woman stand side-by-side at the top of the stairs, one in a suit and the other in a white dress, each affectionately holding a chubby cat. Judging from the date printed on the photo, it's from the 1980s.
He recognized him almost immediately.
Those two were Meng Shiyuan and Yi Hanzhen in their youth.
Inside the hospital, Lan Jia's calf twitched, and she suddenly woke up.
However, after a short rest, she had a nightmare and still couldn't overcome the discomfort of being in the hospital.
Lan Jia felt pain in her neck and shoulders, and when she reached out to massage them, she realized that she had been leaning on someone the whole time.
"Sorry!" She sat up abruptly.
Song Qingqu smiled and shook his head, indicating that there was no problem.
He glanced at the time again and murmured, "It's already so late."
Just then, the door opened, and two nurses pushed out a transfer bed.
Lan Jia hurriedly stood up and went over to check on her. Xu Xinwen had already woken up, her face pale and swollen, showing that she had suffered a lot.
Her nose suddenly stung with tears; she was happy that she was safe, but also felt sorry for her.
Their eyes met, and Xu Xinwen forced a smile, saying weakly, "Go and check on the baby for me, okay?"
Lan Jia nodded.
The nurses were transferring Xu Xinwen to a ward. Since she had just finished surgery, they were worried that she would have to spend the night alone. Lan Jia asked Song Qingqu to go to the nurses' station to inquire about hiring a caregiver, while she went to the NICU on the same floor.
After explaining his purpose at the small window and registering, Lan Jia was finally allowed in.
Inside was a row of individual cubicles, each with a transparent glass window for family visits. After searching through them one by one, they finally found Xu Xinwen's daughter.
Lan Jia craned her neck to look through the glass; the baby in the incubator was fast asleep after being cared for.
She noticed a white wristband tied around her slender ankle; since she didn't have a name yet, it bore her mother's name.
Born prematurely, it was so small, rosy, and its skin was so thin and delicate that it was almost transparent, like a poor kitten that was not yet a month old.
The birth of a child is so difficult; it takes a mother's life to bring them into this world.
Lan Jia couldn't help but think of Ms. Yi, who had already passed away.
She risked her life to give birth to her.
Lan Jia pressed her palms against the glass, her large, watery eyes fixed intently on the inside.
She was completely unaware that a tall, dark figure standing not far away was staring intently at her with the eyes of a lurking wild beast.
Author's Note: After separating from my sister, my inner monologue all day long is: Lan Jia, Lan Jia, Lan Jia, Lan Jia, Lan Jia, my Lan Jia...
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