Chapter 28: The Unsolved Riddle (2)
She nodded slightly.
Such concrete examples easily painted a picture of the Zhou family's life. All her past speculations were confirmed—this was a completely different family, living "underground," with its own domain.
In truth, it felt more like listening to a story.
So far removed from reality that it sounded like a legend.
"You have a good ability to adapt. At the very least, you reacted appropriately during the last incident," Zhou Shengchen's mother sighed softly, her voice growing gentler. "But you won't truly adapt to the Zhou family's way of life. Isn't that right?"
Shi Yi hummed in agreement.
She wouldn't adapt, nor would she accept it.
His mother smiled faintly and said nothing more.
She had made her point—she had said all she wanted to say. Without delving into politics, current affairs, or personal relationships, just the sight of Xiao Ren's late mother's remains would have been enough to shatter this young woman.
Let alone the family rules and underground dealings that existed beyond the bounds of law and morality.
Shi Yi glanced at Zhou Shengchen, who was holding a teacup—dressed in black with white trousers, wearing black metal-framed glasses. He drank tea, he spoke, he did everything without any particular flourish, just like when she had stood outside the research institute in Xi'an, watching him stride toward her in his white lab coat.
Precise and unassuming, whether in life or work.
She had once asked him why he chose to devote himself to scientific research. His answer was that it could benefit more people.
She remembered those words clearly—every word he had ever spoken to her, she remembered.
And so, she was resolute.
She could stand by him and support him in doing what he truly wanted.
Throughout Shi Yi's conversation with Zhou Shengchen's mother, he did not participate.
Only occasionally, when tired, would he rest his elbow on the armrest of the chair, remove his glasses, and gently massage the bridge of his nose and his temples—or sometimes, he would glance at Shi Yi.
Once his mother had said her piece, the conversation quickly shifted back to literature and poetry. When Wen Xing arrived with Tong Jiaren, they joined in with keen interest. This time, not only Tong Jiaren but even Wen Xing brought up the painting Shi Yi had once made and the praise she had received from that elder family friend.
"Old Chen is an old friend of mine," his mother said with a faint smile, reminiscing. "He's a proud man—he rarely praises anyone."
"Si—" Wen Xing caught herself just in time. "Miss Shi Yi, I really wanted to see that painting of yours, but it's a shame it was given to Uncle Chen."
Tong Jiaren chuckled. "Why not paint another one today? Then the Zhou family can keep it."
"That's a great idea," Wen Xing said cheerfully, turning to Shi Yi. "What do you say, Shi Yi?"
She didn’t mind much.
Just as she was about to agree, Zhou Shengchen suddenly spoke up. "Painting is exhausting. She hasn’t fully recovered yet."
"Ah, that's true," Wen Xing said, somewhat disappointed.
"However," he continued unhurriedly, offering an alternative, "I could try to replicate it."
His tone was casual, as if it were a simple matter.
Everyone was taken aback. After all, the painting had been put away immediately after completion, and even if he had seen it, it would have only been once that day. Replicating a painting after seeing it just once—easy to say, but difficult in practice.
Shi Yi, too, was uncertain—until she saw him standing by the desk, brush in hand.
He began with reeds, a single stalk with many leaves.
Layer by layer, he paused occasionally, as if recalling the details.When he reached the roots of the reeds, his brush paused again. He rinsed it in clear water, dipped it in light ink, and with the next stroke, it became the boneless lotus she had once painted. He was deeply focused, his entire spine straight, his gaze through the lenses fixed solely on the rice paper before him.
A single stem of lotus.
Similar, yet different.
The lotus and reeds from her brush had been lighter in technique, like the last remaining lotus in a late summer pond, slightly too cool.
But now, this piece carried a more graceful technique, like the first new lotus of early summer.
The painting’s mood reflected the heart’s state.
Zhou Shengchen’s mother smiled and remarked that although the artistic conception differed, it was already seventy to eighty percent similar. Wen Xing and Tong Jiaren both stared at the painting, lost in thought, each pondering something. Zhou Shengchen tilted his head slightly and looked at her: "Does it resemble it?"
Shi Yi couldn’t answer, smiling softly, only gazing at him.
He cared for her. He had always kept his initial promise, earnestly learning to care for and cherish her.
A brief observation was enough for him to paint it.
Without genuine intent, it would have been difficult to achieve.
Zhou Shengchen also looked at her, smiling faintly as he changed brushes and added words beside the painting:
"Observing the purity of the lotus, one should know the untainted heart."
These were the words of Meng Haoran.
She recognized the line and naturally understood its meaning:
When you see the lotus untainted by the mud, you should remind yourself not to be troubled by worldly matters, to guard your own heart.
Ten simple words, each striking deep.
Her gaze shifted from the painting to him.
"Is this a line from Meng Haoran?" Wen Xing was delighted, recognizing it. "It suits the painting well."
Tong Jiaren also smiled softly and said, "Yes, it suits it perfectly."
In that room, only Zhou Shengchen’s mother and Shi Yi understood what he was conveying through Meng Haoran’s verse.
He hadn’t participated in the earlier conversation.
But that didn’t mean he was compromising.
What he did, the person he chose, would never change from beginning to end.
Observing the purity of the lotus, one should know the untainted heart.
The Shi Yi in his heart was exactly that Shi Yi. His Shi Yi.
Late summer lotus ponds always carried a sense of decline.
But as Shi Yi walked along the winding stone bridge over the water, she didn’t feel these were scenes of decay. The withering after autumn, the thick ice in winter, and the spreading lush green after the river thawed the following year—it was all part of the cycle.
Summer gave way to autumn, year after year.
She turned around, walking backward to look at Zhou Shengchen, two or three steps behind her. Whether it was the man who could command hundreds of thousands of soldiers to kneel with a single gesture or the one now strolling leisurely with his hands in his pockets on the white stone bridge—both were irreplaceable.
Shi Yi was smiling, and he smiled faintly in return.
"I... really don’t fit into your family."
He didn’t seem to mind: "Neither do I."
"Have you always been like this since childhood?"
He chuckled. "About the same as you—not very sociable."
Thinking of how well he knew her, she felt slightly uneasy. "How detailed... is the information you have about me?" "How detailed?" Zhou Shengchen thought for a moment. "Detailed enough to know you like your coffee with milk but no sugar."
That was indeed very specific.
Even when they had just met, before their second encounter, he had already known these things.
During their brief interactions in Xi’an, she had been completely transparent to him, while he remained a mystery to her. Every passing moment, even every day, made her realize that what she had known before was all an illusion.
She gradually stopped walking, and Zhou Shengchen naturally stopped as well."Did you live in such an environment before? Was it hard to adjust?"
Politics, mineral resources, land, jewelry, drug and arms trade.
She felt all these contradicted his values.
"Me?" He seemed to consider how to respond, pausing briefly. "I never adjusted, nor did I like it. But blood ties are the one relationship you can never escape. I prefer... a simpler life."
She hummed in agreement, teasing lightly: "Preferring Venus over the Earth you live on."
He chuckled at her remark, lowering his voice with sincerity: "But first, we must protect the land beneath our feet. If we can't even safeguard our own soil, our people will have no foundation to survive. Isn't that right?"
Shi Yi followed his train of thought, many realizations dawning on her.
After a moment, she nodded. "Yes, just like... why the Jews were massacred in the past—because they had no homeland." She understood Zhou Shengchen's meaning now.
Even after generations of emigration, you'd still be Chinese.
No matter where in the world you live, without a strong motherland, your existence would always be precarious.
Shi Yi studied him briefly before reaching out to gently pat his chest. "Your heart carries too many burdens. I only need a small corner of it."
Dinner was served in their private courtyard that evening.
It was a rare quiet meal shared between them in over a month. Shi Yi had specially prepared medicinal cuisine using a simple recipe. Zhou Shengchen seemed averse to the herbal taste—his expression upon the first bite resembled that of a teenage boy. Amused, she guessed, "Did you have to take too much medicine as a child? Is that why you're resistant?"
He simply lowered his head to continue drinking the scalding hot soup.
As if unwilling to admit it.
The corners of her lips twitched in a smile. "Just admit you're afraid of taking medicine."
When he looked up again, his expression had returned to its usual composure. "Yes, I don't particularly like it."
Utterly serious and straight-faced.
Unable to contain her delight, she teased him a few more times.
Even Uncle Lin couldn't help but chuckle at the rare sight of the eldest young master being coaxed into admitting a weakness.
Zhou Shengchen cleared his throat softly. "Enough now, or I'll have to enforce household discipline."
"Household discipline?" The words slipped out before realization dawned on her.
That ambiguous yet unmistakably intimate implication. He seldom spoke of such things, but whenever he did, it never failed to make her blush.
She dared not tease him further and turned her attention to her meal.
Perhaps it was his dinner banter, or perhaps his unusual behavior today.
During what was usually her reading time, she found herself unable to focus. Seated by the window desk, her peripheral vision was filled with Zhou Shengchen. He leaned casually against the sofa, dressed simply in a shirt and trousers. His arm rested on one side, fingers unconsciously playing with the tassels of a sofa cushion—quiet and seemingly absorbed.
She shifted slightly, attempting to immerse herself in her book.
"Shi Yi?"
"Hmm?" She turned to look at him.
He studied her. "Something on your mind?"
"Not at all," she deflected casually. "Haven't I been reading all this time?"
"You fidget every two minutes," he pointed out with an amused smile. "Doesn't seem like you're reading."
"I..." She struggled for an excuse before laughing instead. "Well, you haven't been reading seriously either if you noticed my restlessness."He raised his eyebrows. "Let me see what book you're reading tonight."
She hummed in response, carrying the book over and placing it on his lap.
Suddenly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pinned her onto the sofa. The abrupt movement startled her. Before the shock could fade, she already felt his body pressing against hers, with obvious changes taking place.
His warm breath slowly neared her neck and chest, causing her to quickly close her eyes, her thoughts wandering.
He carried her to bed.
Soon, all the buttons of her pajamas were undone by him.
Her hands unconsciously gripped his shirt as she shifted slightly. But for some reason, she felt a faint discomfort in her abdomen—or perhaps not her abdomen, but a dull ache radiating from her chest.
She wanted to speak up, to tell him she suddenly didn't feel well.
Unexpectedly, a soft call came from outside the door: "Young Master."
It was abrupt.
Usually, no one would come upstairs at this hour unless it was urgent.
For a moment, he looked surprised. He stopped, adjusted her pajama collar to cover her, tidied himself slightly, and got up to open the door.
Outside stood the young girl, who whispered her purpose upon seeing him open the door.
Since the voice was deliberately lowered, Shi Yi couldn't hear what was said. She only saw Zhou Shengchen's back. Soon, he turned to her and said, "Something has happened at home. I need to leave immediately."
She nodded. "Go ahead."
Without any further explanation, he hurried away.
It was clearly an urgent matter. Shi Yi exhaled softly. The pain in her abdomen persisted faintly, so she pulled the quilt over herself and lay down to rest, gradually falling into a deep sleep. Nightmares followed one after another.
She struggled to break free from the nightmares.
It felt as though pain coursed through every muscle, bone, and even her veins.
Her chest was already overwhelmed by the pain, making it hard to breathe. She tried to wake from the nightmare, tossing and turning.
It hurt—agonizingly so.
She couldn't wake up, trapped between dreams and pain.
Finally, she rolled onto the floor, losing consciousness the moment she hit the ground.
On the other side of the old residence, someone else was also enduring suffering.
The family doctors present were all familiar with Wen Xing's condition, quietly discussing the most effective treatment plan. In truth, before returning this time, Wen Xing had already been scheduled for surgery, but she insisted on coming back to the country.
Zhou Shengchen's mother couldn't persuade her otherwise and could only arrange all necessary treatments as quickly as possible.
That night, when she saved Shi Yi, she had frightened everyone. Fortunately, nothing too serious had happened.
But now, the delayed consequences had arrived.
Earlier, while still conscious, she had gazed dazedly at the bewildered expressions around her, pausing for a few seconds on Mei Hang, who stood slightly behind the others. Only when Mei Hang smiled at her did she slowly look away.
There weren't many people keeping her company.
Zhou Shengchen stood behind his mother, watching her.
Her fingers twitched. Her mother gently clasped her hand, but she weakly pulled free, her fingers pointing unwaveringly toward her eldest brother. Zhou Shengchen understood and stepped closer, crouching down beside her.
As he took Wen Xing's hand, her index finger began to move.
Weakly, slowly, she traced two letters: "go."
She stared into Zhou Shengchen's eyes, unblinking, filled with hope that he would understand her meaning.
Leave this place. Leave this old residence in Zhenjiang.
The world is vast and boundless—live the life you want to live.Zhou Shengchen also looked back at her, his dark eyes devoid of any emotional fluctuations—or perhaps it was simply because he had long understood his younger sister's thoughts. Like Shi Yi, she had once asked him if he disliked life in this household, and he had never denied it.
Slowly, she drew two more vertical lines: 11.
Then, with stubborn persistence, she wrote "go" once again.
Wen Xing blinked with effort, struggling to breathe through the oxygen mask.
This brief, secret exchange went unnoticed by anyone except Zhou Shengchen and Wen Xing. Soon, she slipped back into unconsciousness. Zhou Shengchen's mother stood up calmly and spoke in hushed tones with the four doctors behind her—the gist being that surgery needed to be arranged as soon as possible, as the situation was far from optimistic.
Zhou Shengchen listened quietly. When everyone else had left the room, leaving only him and his mother, an unusual silence lingered between them.
"This matter with your sister," his mother finally spoke first, "wasn't originally this serious."
"Shi Yi is not at fault in this," he said.
His mother looked at him, her tone flat but her voice low and heavy. "I believe this girl is ill-omened."
"She's ordinary. It's something ill-omened that has been clinging to her." Zhou Shengchen showed no restraint in his words.
"Do you think, if our family wanted a girl to disappear, we would resort to such gentle methods?"
His mother's gaze was cold and distant.
Zhou Shengchen remained silent.
To allow Wen Xing to rest peacefully, the surroundings were kept utterly quiet—not even the chirping of cicadas could be heard.
He stood by the window, keeping vigil the entire night.
By the time dawn approached, around the hour for morning meals, Xiao Ren was finally informed about Zhou Wenxing's condition and hurried over. The moment he pushed the door open, he sensed the oppressive atmosphere, as if the air itself had frozen.
Xiao Ren approached Zhou Shengchen's mother and suddenly said, "Uncle has returned."
"Your uncle is back?" His mother seemed genuinely surprised.
"Just arrived," he replied, his eyes holding many unspoken words as he glanced at Zhou Shengchen. "Brother, would you like to go see him?"
(End of Chapter)
OpenNovel