Overdo

Raindrops pattered lightly against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window, leaving elliptical watermarks. Before one could fully spread, another would overlap it. More and more ellipses gathered, denser and denser, until trails of water began to slide down the glass, sliding downward...

Mother’s vanity table stood beneath the window. I’d heard she loved the rain deeply. I couldn’t clearly recall her face, nor had I ever seen a photograph of her. But many elders said I resembled her, so I often looked in the mirror. I was pretty—but only pretty—and that prettiness existed only because I had an exceptionally beautiful mother. Everyone agreed my mother wasn’t just pretty; she was beautiful. Whenever Uncle Lei mentioned my mother, he would say to me, “One glance topples a city, a second glance topples a kingdom. Understand?”

I didn’t think he was exaggerating, because if you casually asked any of our family’s old friends, they would overflow with praise: “Third Young Master’s wife? A beauty—a true beauty…”

Oh, I forgot to explain—Third Young Master was my father’s nickname in his youth. He was the type who could lean against a slanting bridge on horseback and have all the ladies in the tower wave their scarlet sleeves. He could also fly into a rage that startled the nobles. I’d heard many legends about him, but I’d never heard anyone tell the story of him and Mother. He himself never mentioned it. I refused to believe it was because their story was too ordinary. On the contrary, how could a beauty like Mother and a figure like Father not have a legendary, earth-shattering tale? I didn’t believe it! Our family friends said I looked like Mother but had a personality exactly like Father’s. I admitted it—my temperament was restless, quick to anger, just like my hot-tempered father. Every time I brought up Mother, Father would either fly into a rage or turn and walk away. This only convinced me there was a secret story between them, and I was desperate to uncover it. I had been searching, probing all along. I refused to believe there wasn’t a single word to prove this story existed.

It was a drizzly, lingering dusk when I was looking for books in the large study. Sitting at the top of the ladder, I browsed through thread-bound classics and accidentally opened one volume, from which a thin piece of paper fluttered down like a delicate butterfly, slipping to the floor. I thought it was a bookmark at first, but when I picked it up, I realized it was a plain notepaper with only a few sparse lines:

“Mulan: Forgive me for not being able to see you. After our last meeting, he flew into a terrible rage—the scene was truly frightening. He doesn’t trust me. He says he will never trust me again. I am truly in despair.” The handwriting was delicate and frail, unlike any I had ever seen. I stood there in a daze for a long while before flipping the book over to see what it was. It was a volume of Song Lyrics, and the page where the note had been tucked away contained an anonymous poem titled Nine-Frame Loom. Beside the verse “On the eighth frame, whose poem is this palindrome? Woven throughout is a desolate meaning. Reading line by line, languid and silent, I cannot bear to ponder further,” that delicate handwriting had added a small annotation: “Cannot bear to ponder further. Even with a thousand in gold to buy Xiangru’s rhapsody, how could it bring back a glance?” I hesitated, thinking—this handwriting wasn’t Grandmother’s, nor did it belong to either of my aunts. So, who had written it? Who would write in a book from the study’s collection? Could it be Mother?

I inherited Father’s decisiveness—once an idea came, I acted on it immediately. I started investigating from this “Mulan.” I called Uncle Lei, and he laughed as soon as he heard my voice. “Young Miss, what is it this time? Don’t tell me you’re asking me to find another long-lost classmate like last time.”I said with a smile, "Uncle Lei, I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you again to find someone for me."

Uncle Lei sighed, "Who has the nerve to hide from you? Let me drag him out and make him apologize to you, young lady!"

I was amused by his words. "Uncle Lei, this time it's a bit more complicated. I only know her name is Mulan, but I don't know if that's her full name or just a given name. I don't know how old she is, what she looks like, or even if she's alive or dead. Uncle Lei, please do your best to find her."

Uncle Lei fell silent. After a long pause, he suddenly asked, "Why are you looking for her? Does your father know about this?"

I keenly sensed the caution in his tone. Could there be some obstacle here, perhaps set by Father? I asked, "What does this have to do with Father?"

Uncle Lei remained quiet for a long time before saying, "Nannan, Mulan is dead. She died long ago, on that car... she was there too."

I was stunned, dumbfounded, and asked blankly, "She was on that car too... with Mother..."

Uncle Lei replied, "Yes, she was your mother's good friend. She was accompanying your mother that day."

The only lead was cut off again. I don't know how I hung up the phone. I just sat there in a daze. She's dead? Died together with Mother? She was Mother's good friend, and she happened to be with Mother that day...

I must have been sitting there for a long time, because I didn't even notice when Father returned or when it got dark outside. It was only when A Zhu came to call me for dinner that I snapped out of it and hurried downstairs to the dining room.

Several guests had arrived, including Uncle Lei. They were sitting in the living room talking with Father, creating quite a lively atmosphere. Father had reviewed troops in Pumen today, so he was still in his military uniform. Father looked extremely dashing in his uniform, more spirited than when he wore Western suits. Even though he's older now, with some gray at his temples, he still carried a formidable presence.

Father's gaze was as cold as ever as he got straight to the point: "Your Uncle Lei just told me you were asking him about Mulan." Being betrayed so quickly was something I had expected. I glanced at Uncle Lei, who gave me an apologetic smile. I wanted to find an excuse but couldn't, so I looked directly at Father and said, "I heard she was Mother's good friend and wanted to learn more about her. But Uncle Lei told me she's dead."

Father fixed his sharp eyes on me for a full ten seconds. I didn't dare to breathe.

Finally, he said, "How many times have I told you not to bother your uncles with trivial matters? They're all busy with important affairs. Do you understand?"

I murmured an acknowledgment. Uncle Lei quickly stepped in to help me out, "Sir, I've inspected the house at Qinghu. There are quite a few places that need repairs. We should probably start the work soon, otherwise the rainy season will cause problems."

Father said, "Oh, leave it to Xiao Xu to handle. Let's go have dinner first." As he turned toward the dining room, I made a face at Uncle Lei. Uncle Lei smiled, "With the cat gone, is the little mouse going to cause trouble again?" I raised my eyebrows, and the other uncles chuckled quietly. I followed Uncle Lei into the dining room, where the kitchen had already started serving the appetizers.During the meal, Father and my uncles kept talking about their own affairs while I silently focused on eating. Father seemed to be in a bad mood, but I was used to it—he maintained a perpetually foul temper year-round, rarely smiling, much like Grandfather in his day. Grandfather was always burdened with worries—making phone calls, losing his temper, scolding people...

Yet Grandfather adored me. I was entrusted to Grandmother’s care while still in swaddling clothes and grew up in the Shuangqiao Official Residence. Whenever Grandfather slammed the table in anger, those dejected uncles would always find a way to carry me into his study. Upon seeing me, Grandfather would take my hand and stroll with me in the garden, showing me the orchids he cultivated.

As I grew a little older, Grandfather’s temper worsened, but he remained delighted every time he saw me. He would set aside whatever he was doing, order someone to bring me chocolate, and have me recite poetry for him. Occasionally, he would take me out as well—the Qinghu Official Residence by the scenic river, the Fenggang Official Residence by the sea, and the Ruizui Official Residence were all places he frequently brought me. His affection for me differed from Grandmother’s. Grandmother showed her love by teaching me etiquette and hiring tutors for piano and studies. Grandfather’s love was pure indulgence—whatever I wanted, he gave me. Once, while he was napping, I sneaked into his room, stood on a chair, and took a brush from his desk to draw the character for "king" on his forehead. When he woke up, he flew into a rage, summoned the head of his aides and reprimanded him harshly, then had me brought to his study. I thought he would punish me, so I burst into tears. To my surprise, he didn’t scold me but instead had someone bring chocolate to comfort me. At that time, I was losing my baby teeth, and Grandmother forbade me from eating sweets. So I immediately stopped crying and smiled, because I knew that whatever Grandfather gave me, no one—not even Grandmother—dared to forbid it. I said, "It must be wonderful to be Grandfather. Everyone fears you, and you can do whatever you want."