Chapter 31: The Emptiness of Prosperity (2)
After speaking, she turned to Zhou Shengchen: "Remember that, okay?"
Zhou Shengchen smiled and gently shook his head. "Focus on recovering. Don’t think about these things."
"I worry about you," Wen Xing said with a soft smile. "And your wedding banquet—I must attend, no matter what."
"Then focus on getting better first. Once your indicators stabilize, we’ll proceed with the surgery."
She let out a quiet sigh and grasped Zhou Shengchen’s right hand. "Let’s postpone the surgery… What if, after receiving someone else’s heart, I’m no longer the sister who loves you the most?"
Her tone carried a hint of playful pleading.
Zhou Shengchen’s eyes warmed as he murmured routine medical advice to her.
Late at night, when all was quiet, Shi Yi found herself reflecting on Wen Xing’s words, sensing an undercurrent of melancholy. Lying in bed, she casually asked Zhou Shengchen if he knew Wen Xing had feelings for Mei Hang. He didn’t seem surprised. "It’s obvious."
"Obvious?"
He neither confirmed nor denied it. "It’s easy to see. Just like how, the first time you met me, there was already an… unexpected emotion."
She let out a soft "Oh." "Go on."
Though she pretended indifference, her voice had already grown lighter.
Zhou Shengchen actually began analyzing it. "The hardest thing to conceal is emotion. It’s very easy to tell when a girl likes someone—her gaze, her movements, the tone of her voice. Those are usually enough to judge."
He was speaking in broad terms about female psychology.
But what she associated with his words were all those subtle, unspoken feelings of hers that he had observed from the sidelines.
She coughed lightly. "So… in the past, when someone… well, liked you, you just watched from the sidelines?"
"Yes, observed," he mused. "Or avoided being alone with them to prevent giving the wrong impression."
"And… what if someone needed a response from you?"
She avoided mentioning the word "fiancée."
He chuckled softly, not calling out her implication. "Unless it’s my wife, no response is necessary."
The perfect answer.
Shi Yi didn’t press further, clearly satisfied.
But she remained preoccupied with Wen Xing’s situation. She wasn’t usually one to play matchmaker, but since Zhou Shengchen seemed aware, she wanted to ask for more details. Gently tugging his sleeve, she murmured, "Then… what about Mei Hang’s feelings for Wen Xing?"
"I don’t know."
"You don’t know?"
He paused briefly. "We don’t discuss these things."
"But Wen Xing is your sister. Shouldn’t you show some concern?"
"The hardest thing in this world is mutual affection."
Shi Yi was surprised that Zhou Shengchen would say such a thing.
Sure enough, he soon clarified. "That’s what Mei Hang said."
Shi Yi thought for a moment before suddenly asking, "What’s the alternate name for the second lunar month?"
"Ganxiang."
"And the fourth month?"
"Huaixu," he replied with a faint smile. "Why the sudden question?"
"I was just thinking—isn’t it strange how someone could be so insistent that their partner must love classical literature?"
He hummed in agreement.
Lying beside him, she remained lost in thoughts of Wen Xing’s unrequited feelings for Mei Hang when she noticed the bedside lamp brightening slightly. He leaned closer and asked in a low voice, "Do you speak Suzhou dialect?"
"Yes," she answered, puzzled. "I have relatives in Suzhou. The dialect is similar to Shanghainese, so I learned it as a child."
Both of them had sipped some lotus seed heart tea earlier.
As they spoke, the faintest trace of its delicate fragrance lingered between them, close enough to taste in each other’s breath."Recite some of the poems I taught you in Suzhou dialect, would you?" He tilted his head slightly.
She softly agreed.
Where had he ever taught her? It was clearly those... Wu songs from their intimate moments.
Those ambiguous, or blatantly flirtatious verses.
"I'll go slow. Tell me if it gets uncomfortable, alright?"
She hummed in response, feeling her entire body burn up.
Such considerate words, yet the way he said them carried heavy flirtation. Whether intentional or not remained unclear.
Drawing from memory, she recited softly for him, occasionally pausing when overcome with shyness. The early autumn night carried a slight chill. Though perspiring beneath the thin blanket, he dared not toss it aside recklessly, fearing she might catch cold.
Gradually, her recitations became fragmented, the poetry broken as coherent thought escaped her.
Before drifting off, she finally voiced the question lingering in her heart: "Zhou Shengchen?"
"Hmm?"
"Why did you want me to use Suzhou dialect..."
In the darkness, she sensed his smile. "Have you heard this verse? 'Drunk on tender Wu dialect's charm—whose white-haired couple lingers arm in arm?' Wu songs in Wu dialect—quite delightful."
The realization dawned—this was a famous line praising the beauty of Wu dialect.
Among Wu dialects, Suzhou speech was considered the softest and most mellifluous. Such gentle tones, so full of tenderness.
Yet while the verse described speaking softly while pleasantly tipsy, his interpretation had taken on a decidedly more... rosy hue.
Zhou Shengchen suddenly added, "There's nothing strange about wanting one's partner to appreciate classical literature. It can be a form of romance in itself." Like reciting tea poems, or tea names, or the Wu songs he whispered to her, the verses he composed for her.
Shi Yi considered this—it did sound rather nice.
Yet through these words, she finally discerned something. Pressing her cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat, she laughed softly: "Zhou Shengchen, you're jealous."
Two days later, she accompanied Zhou Shengchen to visit Wen Xing.
Though she appeared in good spirits, her medical indicators remained unsatisfactory. Just this past fortnight, she'd already missed one suitable donor match. Zhou Shengchen had briefed her on these details. While unfamiliar with organ transplants, Shi Yi understood congenital conditions carried far greater risks than acquired ones, making her heart ache all the more for Wen Xing. Those who heal others often struggle to heal themselves.
This visit brought an unexpected encounter with Mei Hang.
Wen Xing's private hospital suite included a sitting area with sofas. While Zhou Shengchen consulted with doctors, Shi Yi entered Wen Xing's room first. Draped in a light blue tracksuit jacket, Wen Xing was laughing quietly as Mei Hang shook his head in amusement, removing his glasses to wipe them with a handkerchief from his pocket.
"Sister-in-law?"
"Hmm?"
"Sister-in-law, I've prepared good tea—two cups," Wen Xing gently pushed her own cup toward Shi Yi, "I can't drink it, you have it." Amused, Shi Yi asked, "You definitely shouldn't be drinking tea, so why prepare a cup for yourself?"
"When Mei Hang arrived, I got too excited and forgot," Wen Xing cast an airy glance at Mei Hang, "Troublesome charmer."
Mei Hang continued smiling wordlessly.
A nurse entered for Wen Xing's routine checkup. As Shi Yi settled into the armchair and reached for the teacup, her fingers barely grazed the saucer's edge when Mei Hang simultaneously pressed down on the opposite side.
His ink-black eyes, fathomless in depth, met hers in a penetrating glance.
Puzzled, Shi Yi returned his gaze until Wen Xing's call distracted her, leaving the moment's significance temporarily unexplored.Later, Zhou Shengchen arrived and had a brief conversation with Mei Hang in the small sitting room. Before leaving, Mei Hang nonchalantly instructed someone to dispose of those two cups of tea. Watching his retreating figure, she recalled the momentary eye contact they had shared earlier—his aura had been so compelling that she couldn't help suspecting there was something wrong with that tea.
Compared to Wen Xing, the distinction between closeness and distance should have been obvious...
She shouldn’t have doubted him.
Once Shi Yi felt better, she began catching up on the work she had missed during her two-month absence, preparing to enter the recording studio the following week. When Meilin heard she was resuming work, she complained about being hounded by various producers while listing out tasks, and that very afternoon, she express-delivered the latest documents—thick enough to resemble a book. Most of the roles were period pieces, tailored to suit Shi Yi’s vocal tone.
She flipped through them casually, familiarizing herself with the characters.
Her own book, however, had been set aside.
It was in its final stages, but progress was slow because she couldn’t clearly recall his ending.
She couldn’t remember why he had died, or how. Unable to recall, she could only go back and revise earlier sections, but because she cared too much, she agonized over every word and phrase, rewriting them repeatedly.
Zhou Shengchen had been very busy lately, so she had grown accustomed to eating alone most of the time and to his late returns. That morning, after visiting Wen Xing, he had dropped her off at home before leaving again.
She read through the scripts for a while before her attention drifted to revising her manuscript, and before she knew it, it was already past seven.
Mulling over the phrasing, she held the stack of papers in both hands, unconsciously tapping them lightly against the desk. After a while, she tilted her head and rested her cheek against the wooden surface. Her brows furrowed, relaxed, and then furrowed again, so absorbed that she didn’t even notice when Zhou Shengchen returned.
Hanging up his coat, still damp with fine droplets, he spotted her in the study through the open door.
He walked in. "Running into trouble?"
Shi Yi instinctively closed the folder and made to stand, but he pressed a hand to her shoulder.
Kneeling beside her, he signaled for her to stay seated.
After a moment’s thought, she admitted, "A mental block."
"A mental block?"
"I’m writing something, and I keep wanting it to be perfect—obsessing over every word and phrase," she exhaled softly. "It’s a mental block."
"Mm," he nodded in understanding. "Let me think of a way to help you through it."
She chuckled. "No need to trouble a great scientist like you with this."
"Shh... Let me think. I think I’ve got it."
Amused, she nodded.
"Do you remember what I once told you February is called?"
"Ganxiang."
He nodded. "That’s just my habitual way of referring to it. Strictly speaking, February has many other names, each with different origins. If you had to argue which one was slightly better, wouldn’t it be difficult?"
She conceded that he had a point.
"It’s like in the lab—I never demand that my students replicate my methods exactly. Everyone has their own suitable approach," he mused before adding, "I don’t write much, but I know that scholars and poets of the past also had their own preferred phrases and styles. Whether in research or writing, the core lies here." He tapped his temple lightly with a finger. "Use your own way to write what you want to say."
"Mm."
"You haven’t eaten?" He patted her stomach. "Hungry?"
She answered honestly, "Yes."
"Let’s go," he stood. "We’ll eat out."
"Now?" She could hear the rain outside, imagining the thunder and lightning."I checked the weather forecast. The rain will stop in an hour. We can drive slowly and go somewhere farther for dinner."
"Weather forecast?" Shi Yi had always been skeptical about weather forecasts. "What if it's wrong?"
Following closely behind him, she kept talking as they walked.
Zhou Shengchen suddenly stopped and turned around. "But there's also a probability it might stop, right?"
She was still hesitant. "I'm just worried about troubling Uncle Lin, having him drive us around for meals in this rain."
"I'll drive this time."
"You'll drive?"
He couldn't help but chuckle. "I know how to drive."
It wasn't that she didn't trust him—she'd just never seen him drive before. Even after getting into the passenger seat in the underground garage, she couldn't help stealing glances at his hands on the steering wheel, feeling a subtle sense of incongruity. But once they got onto the elevated highway, she gradually grew accustomed to it. He was focused in everything he did, including driving—quiet and steady.
The windshield wipers kept swinging, and the rain seemed to be letting up.
By the time they left Shanghai, the rain had truly stopped.
There were many small towns around Shanghai, like the Wang family's estate. She had only been there once, late at night, and still couldn't recall the name of the place. Tonight, she didn't recognize where he had driven them either.
He parked the car in a lot at the town's entrance.
The rain had just stopped, leaving puddles on the stone-paved road.
Fortunately, she wasn't wearing high heels. With his support, she hopped over the larger puddles.
By the riverbank, a few small boats were moored, with quaint restaurants onshore. The boats weren't large, each accommodating at most two tables. Zhou Shengchen had reserved one of them. Once they boarded, the boat owner handed them a menu.
"This was the only boat left tonight. You two are really lucky."
Shi Yi smiled and flipped through the simple two-page menu.
There wasn't much to choose from—in a place like this, the scenery was the main course.
Worried he might not have enough to eat, she ordered several hearty dishes.
"Please wait a moment. Once the food is ready, we'll set off."
The boat owner hopped back ashore, leaving just the two of them on the boat. The sides had only waist-high railings, with candleholders instead of lights. The most comfortable part was the seating—opposite each other, deep crimson sofa-style chairs, cozy enough to lie down in if one were petite. Sitting upright, they sank into the cushions, so comfortable it made one drowsy.
"Have you been here before?" she asked curiously.
Zhou Shengchen shook his head with a smile. "First time. I asked someone for recommendations last minute."
She figured as much—this young master definitely wasn't the type to indulge in such experiences.
The boat swayed slightly as the owner returned, looking somewhat apologetic. "There are two young people onshore who also want to board. I told them the boat was reserved, but... they asked me to check with you if they could share the empty table?"
He pointed toward the shore.
Both of them glanced over—a young couple, no older than their early twenties.
The boy looked nervous, watching them intently. When they turned, he quickly clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. Shi Yi chuckled as Zhou Shengchen said, "I don't mind. My wife probably doesn't either."
"Mm, let them come aboard."
The boat owner grew even fonder of this kind-hearted couple and beckoned the two youngsters onto the boat. A bamboo curtain between the two tables provided some separation. Soon, the food arrived, and the boat set off.
Not long after leaving the shore, it began to rain again.She overheard the hushed conversation of a young couple behind the beaded curtain, likely calculating the day's expenses with meticulous care. The girl lamented throughout—here they overspent, there they should have saved: "Look at you, with so little money left, yet you still insist on dining aboard this boat..."
The voices were faint, but she caught every word.
It reminded her of when she first graduated and entered the recording studio. There was an intern sound engineer and his young girlfriend. The two would budget every penny, planning each meal from Monday to Friday, all just to afford a nice weekend treat or a short trip at the end of the month. It was the kind of romance unique to youth.
Unable to help herself, she shot him a glance and chuckled softly.
"What is it?" Zhou Shengchen leaned back on the sofa, his right arm resting casually to the side, looking at her in confusion. Shi Yi moved closer and whispered the girl’s words into his ear. Before she could elaborate on her feelings, Zhou Shengchen seemed to understand. "Envious?" he asked.
She smiled. "Mhm."
He chuckled to himself.
Outside, the rain showed no signs of stopping. The boatman anchored the vessel beneath the "curtain" formed by an ancient tree, explaining they needed to wait out the rain to avoid water splashing inside and soaking their clothes.
Moored by the shore with the wind blowing, they could see the waves lapping against the stone walls. The candlelight cast flickering shadows on the bamboo blinds.
"Have you ever seen shadow puppetry?" she asked.
"Shadow puppetry?"
"Yeah... I suppose you haven’t."
She remembered watching a TV program about shadow puppetry as a child—several episodes in a row. The performers on screen would twist their fingers into shapes of animals and people, weaving short stories or satirical commentaries. Back then, she recalled trying her hand at shadow puppetry in the library during idle moments, using candlelight for practice.
Being self-taught, she hadn’t mastered many shapes. But after watching the show, she picked up quite a few.
Shi Yi formed a rabbit with her hands, about to say something when she suddenly paused. "Is today the ninth day of the ninth month?"
No wonder there were rice dumplings and flower cakes on the table.
He hummed in agreement. "Are you making a rabbit shadow?"
"Can you tell?" Shi Yi grinned, wiggling her fingers slightly. The rabbit’s ears on the bamboo blinds twitched in response. She improvised a voice for it: "Ah... the Moon Palace is so lonely. Mid-Autumn has passed, and now it’s the Double Ninth Festival. Perhaps I should visit the mortal world for a change."
Keeping her voice low to avoid alerting the young couple next door, she infused her performance with theatrical flair.
He leaned in, studying her act with interest.
Shi Yi gently blew on the candle. The flame flickered, and the rabbit vanished. Kneeling on the sofa, her own shadow now fell upon the bamboo blinds—clear and delicate. "Young master... have we met somewhere before...?" she murmured, her tone soft and tender, embodying the classical elegance she excelled at.
His lips curved as he played along, responding in a low voice, "Oh? Is that so?"
"May I ask your name...?" Her eyes shimmered, her voice growing even softer.
After a brief pause, he met her gaze. "Zhou Sheng," he said. "Given name, Chen."
(End of Chapter)
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