Overdo

The dinner at the Xu residence was merely an informal gathering, yet the air of an aristocratic family naturally permeated every gesture and movement. Even Mulan restrained her usual liveliness, remaining as quiet as Lin Daiyu entering the Jia mansion. The meal finally concluded. When the servants brought coffee, Murong Qingyi raised an eyebrow and remarked, "Why serve this?" Xu Changning smiled and said, "I know—tea has been prepared for you." Sure enough, a servant brought over a celadon lidded bowl. Murong Qingyi chuckled, "You're truly extravagant, using this to entertain guests." Xu Changning replied, "I was afraid you'd accuse me of only having vulgar utensils here!" Murong Qingyi said, "The 'sky after rain' glaze piece from the Qianlong kiln that I usually use—once, when Father saw it, he was inexplicably displeased and randomly muttered 'prodigal son.' What an unlucky remark."

Xu Changxuan, who was nearby, interjected, "The set Madam uses for daily entertaining is actually excellent Jun ware." Murong Qingyi smiled and said, "Mother has grown rather idle lately. In previous years, she always enjoyed tea parties and dances, but this year, even large-scale gatherings at home have become scarce." As he spoke, he glanced at his watch. "I must be going. Father might have already sent someone to look for me."

Xu Changning did not press him to stay but personally saw him out. Mulan and Susu lingered only a quarter of an hour longer before taking their leave as well. Xu Changning arranged a car to take them home. Mulan lived in the city center, while Susu resided in the suburbs, so the car dropped her off last. She expressed her thanks, watched the Xu family car depart, and then turned to walk into the alley.

On the autumn evening, the chirping of insects filled the grass along the roadside. A brilliant moon cast splashes of silver light, rendering the road surface as smooth and glossy as water or a mirror. By the moonlight, she rummaged in her handbag for her keys. The house she lived in was a small courtyard with a few clusters of begonias planted beneath the fence, their lush leaves visible even in the moonlight. The courtyard gate was secured with a small, rusted iron lock, weathered by wind and rain, making it difficult to open. As she bent over struggling with the lock, she heard someone behind her say, "Miss Ren."

Startled, her hand trembled, and the keys fell to the ground. Turning around, she found the person somewhat familiar but could not recall where she had seen him before. The man smiled and said, "Miss Ren, my surname is Lei. My employer would like to invite you for a cup of tea. I wonder if you would honor us with your presence?" Only then did she remember—this Mr. Lei was an attendant of the Third Young Master, always at his side at the racetrack and the Xu residence, which explained why he seemed familiar. Since he referred to his "employer," it must be Murong, the Third Young Master. Her heart raced as she replied, "It's too late. Perhaps another time, if the opportunity arises, I might trouble Mr. Murong." Mr. Lei, ever polite, responded, "It's only eight o'clock now. It won't take much of your time." She firmly declined with gentle excuses, and Mr. Lei had no choice but to turn and walk toward the side of the alley. It was then that she noticed two black cars parked in the shadows along the wall—barely visible unless one looked closely. A moment later, she heard light footsteps. Thinking it was Mr. Lei returning, her fear deepened. Yet, the small key was nowhere to be found; the more she panicked, the less she could locate it.The figure drew closer, and in the moonlight, his face became clearly visible—it was Murong Qingyi himself. She never dreamed he would suddenly appear in such a shabby alley. Startled and frightened, she took a step back. Yet he smiled and called out, "Miss Ren," then glanced around and remarked, "Your place is truly elegant and quiet."

Her heart was filled with terror. He reached out and grasped her hand, leaving her both shocked and furious, so much so that she forgot to struggle. He then raised his hand and brushed through her long hair, which cascaded down to rest upon her shoulders once more. Horrified, she staggered backward, only to find the courtyard gate behind her. Her heart felt as though it might leap from her chest. "Mr. Murong, please show some respect. I have a boyfriend."

His eyes flickered uncertainly in the moonlight, and a faint smile seemed to play on his lips. Cold sweat seeped through the fabric on her back. He gripped her hand and led her toward the car. Her mind was in a daze, and it wasn't until they reached the vehicle that she remembered to resist, pulling back slightly. But he tugged forcefully, and she lost her footing, stumbling forward. Seizing the opportunity, he wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her into the car. An attendant nearby closed the door, and the car silently drove off. Overwhelmed with fear, she asked, "Where are you taking me?"

He didn't answer. Fortunately, aside from holding her hand, he made no other unsettling moves. The car traveled for a long, long time before finally stopping. As soon as it halted, someone opened the door for them. He stepped out first, then turned and extended his hand again. The clothes on her back were soaked with sweat, and she sat motionless, like a marble statue. He persisted, and in the end, she couldn't resist and finally got out of the car. Towering trees surrounded them, encircling a Western-style building. Sparse and dense streetlights and garden lamps only emphasized the depth of the courtyard.

He said, "I have a gift for you." Still holding her hand, he led her along a cobblestone path deeper into the courtyard. As if in a dream, she stumbled along with him into another section of the estate. Then she heard him say, "Turn on the lights." Instantly, brilliant lights illuminated the scene, and she gasped.

Before her stretched an endless expanse of emerald lotus leaves. Lights along the banks shimmered like strings of pearls, extending far into the distance. Under the glow, a gentle breeze rustled the lush leaves, which stood tall like canopies. Though it was late autumn, the lotuses here bloomed in serene and exquisite beauty. Crowded pink blossoms resembled glazed jade bowls brimming with flowing light, or moon-bathed beauties standing gracefully upon the water. The scene was so dreamlike and enchanting that she was utterly mesmerized.

He smiled and asked, "Is it beautiful? We channel hot spring water here, so we can enjoy such scenery even in October."

A faint smile touched her lips, and shallow dimples appeared on her cheeks. Her long eyelashes fluttered slightly, like hibiscus flowers stirred by the west wind, revealing their delicate stamens. After a long pause, she whispered softly, "It's beautiful."

He chuckled lightly, paused for a moment, and then asked, "What is your name?"

The faint fragrance of lotus blossoms drifted in the air, and a delicate mist hovered over the pond, making everything seem like an illusion. She lowered her head and replied, "Ren Susu."He murmured softly, "Susu... Plain clothes and a pure heart—such a fitting name." She lifted her eyes to find him gazing at her, feeling a faint blush warm her cheeks before she slowly lowered her head again. Under the lamplight, the cool breeze stirred the stray hairs at her neck, making her skin appear even more like congealed cream. He couldn't help but ask, "Why aren't you smiling anymore? You look lovely when you smile." Hearing this, Susu felt an inexplicable fear and merely bowed her head in silence. He reached out and gently lifted her chin, saying, "A famed flower and a beauty bring each other delight... Hmm, though the verse is an old metaphor, the hibiscus and you truly complement each other. Susu, don’t you understand my feelings?" She hastily took a step back, stammering, "Third Young Master, I..." But he abruptly kissed her, and she felt her breath catch, the warmth on her lips seeming to steal all thought, leaving only a terrified void. She struggled, but his arms were like iron bands. In her panic, she raised a hand and scratched his face. He let out a sharp "Ah!" and, stung by the pain, finally released her.

Trembling with fear, her eyes filled with panic. He pressed a hand to the injured spot, and all she could hear was her own shallow, rapid breathing, her heart pounding as if it might leap out of her chest. He remained silent for a moment before finally smiling faintly and saying, "Today I’ve learned that I am so detestable."

She struggled to breathe, the back of her dress damp with sweat, the night breeze sending a shivering chill through her. She said, "I want to go home." Murong Qingyi was silent for another moment before replying, "Very well, I’ll have someone take you back."

Once in the car, she realized her forehead was beaded with cold sweat. Red marks from his grip adorned her wrists, and a lingering fear settled in her heart. Outside the window, the flickering lights flashed past her vision like fleeting meteors or the sudden glow of fireflies on a summer night, here and gone in an instant. The faint pain in her wrists was nothing compared to the growing clarity of the fear in her heart.

By ten in the morning, the official residence gradually came to life with servants moving about. The chrysanthemums by the swimming pool were in full bloom, arranged on specially erected trellises, a riot of brilliant colors vying for attention. Under the morning sun’s gentle golden rays, the flowers resembled a cascading waterfall of vibrant hues, exceptionally beautiful. The breakfast table was set before the flower display, with the Western chef handling the meal as usual. The three diners occasionally heard the soft clink of cutlery, followed by silence so profound that the distant splashing of the fountain in the courtyard was clearly audible. Just then, the sound of leather shoes echoed from the corridor. Li Boze looked up but hadn’t yet seen anyone when the footsteps reached the corner and fell silent, likely having entered the house through the back door. He couldn’t help but smile and said to his wife beside him, "It must be the third one returning." Jin Rui set down her knife and fork, picked up her coffee for a sip, and remarked, "Mother, you really ought to rein in the third one and not let those around him indulge his whims. Look at how furtive he is—if Father sees him, he’s bound to get angry again."