Overdo

Murong Qingyi had an excellent capacity for liquor, but that evening he drank heavily, and by the time the banquet ended, his heart was pounding erratically. Huo Zongqi arranged cars to see the guests off and gave him a teasing wink, saying, "Third Young Master, I entrust Miss Yuan to you." Yuan Chengyu glanced up and remarked, "Young Master Huo, are you determined not to let us off today?" Huo Zongqi let out an "Oh?" and laughed, "You two? How would I dare not let you off?" Though drunk, Murong Qingyi knew that if Huo Zongqi found a weakness to exploit, he would never stop teasing. The only way was to act boldly and openly—then he would let it go. So he said to Yuan Chengyu, "Don’t mind him, let’s go first." Sure enough, seeing him speak this way, Huo Zongqi truly thought they had turned pretense into reality and smiled as he watched them get into the car.

Murong Qingyi had the driver take Yuan Chengyu home first. Just as he was about to head back himself, Lei Shaogong, ever meticulous, reminded him, "The master is at home today, and it’s already so late." Tipsy and muddled, it took him a moment to understand. "If Father sees me drunk like this in the middle of the night, and with the fleet matters still unresolved, he’ll surely be angry—let’s go to Duan Mountain and return tomorrow after Father has left."

Fifteen

Susu disliked the electric fan, so she lay holding a hand fan, waving it idly now and then. The air was stifling, like glue with its lid off—at first fluid, then gradually thickening, making each breath a slight effort. She drifted into a hazy sleep but suddenly jolted awake. Outside the window, a flash of light burst forth as a thunderbolt split the night sky. A gust of wind blew in, and she heard an unlatched window downstairs rattling noisily. The wind carried a hint of coolness—it seemed rain was coming.

In the distance, a low rumble of thunder rolled, followed by another arc of lightning that illuminated the spacious room. The heavy drapes and curtains billowed in the wind, fluttering as if about to take flight. Then came the pattering sound of rain, dense and urgent. Listening to the heavy downpour, the rain so loud it seemed right by her ear, she drifted back into a drowsy sleep.

Murong Qingyi returned in the morning, quite early, before Susu had gotten up. Seeing him in a hurry, she asked, "Are you going out again?"

He grunted in affirmation and said, "I’m heading to Ten Thousand Mountains, so I came back to change." As he spoke, he undid his buttons, but halfway through, he paused as if remembering something, glanced at Susu, then continued undressing to take a shower. Susu quickly got up as well. Seeing the clothes he had discarded strewn carelessly on the daybed, she picked them up one by one, intending to send them for laundering. When she turned over the last white shirt, she found a smear of red on the collar—the very shade of "apricot red," the latest Paris fashion. She stood there like a fool, clutching the shirt tightly until her palm grew damp with sweat. Her heart felt hollow, as if all strength had drained away. Though the morning was quite cool, beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Outside the window, birds chirped crisply and melodiously, one call after another, until her ears buzzed with tinnitus.

He had already come out, his hair half-dried from washing, the damp strands soft and strikingly black. He said, "I won’t be home for breakfast. I probably won’t be back until tomorrow." His gaze fixed on her eyes as if trying to see right through her. She felt only a vague, aching sorrow, the faint mist in her eyes barely held back. Afraid he might notice, she lowered her head, her voice barely audible. "Yes."Hearing her tone as calm and ordinary as ever, he seemed displeased. "What's wrong with you? You sound just like them. You're not an aide-de-camp—you should know your place. Don't act so awkwardly in front of outsiders." She could only respond softly. He said, "Looking at you like this, you probably won't be able to speak when we meet the guests later." Sensing his displeasure, she fell silent and forced a smile, saying, "Mother isn't home, so there are fewer guests." He glanced at her and said, "I'm leaving. Don't see me out."

She was already feeling upset but had been holding back strenuously. Watching him walk away, she finally couldn't restrain herself—tears, cold and icy, fell by her lips, bitter as coptis. Unexpectedly, he turned back at the door. Flustered, she lowered her head, but he had already seen her. Instead, he laughed, walked back, and asked, "What's wrong?" She didn't answer, hurriedly wiping away her tears. He took her hand and said softly, "Silly! What happened yesterday was just them joking—they insisted on smearing lipstick on my collar. Do you believe me or not?"

She looked up at him. Though there was laughter in his eyes, they were clear and serene, like an autumn sea—so deep and tranquil that she couldn't help but sink into them. She let out a soft, relieved sigh. She—naturally, she ought to believe him, and naturally, she did believe him.

Due to the heavy rain the night before, the tree leaves were lush and verdant, glistening with moisture, and the air had turned refreshingly crisp. Susu had ordered a new gown at the foreign firm, and Weiyi went with her to try it on. The foreign firm was very meticulous in its work—three or four attendants used pins to carefully mark the ill-fitting areas and repeatedly noted them down for alterations. Weiyi laughed and said, "Third Sister-in-Law, you rarely wear Western gowns, but actually, seeing you in one occasionally is extremely lovely." Susu replied, "There's a dance at home, so I ordered this. Everyday clothes are still more convenient." Weiyi, with her girlish temperament, was naturally delighted by new clothes. The manager brought out many catalogues for her to browse. Susu, who had never liked being attended to by shop assistants, went alone to change.

The fitting room walls were made of very thin plywood, covered with lotus-root-colored cloud-patterned wallpaper that resembled the faint, wispy clouds after sunset—the color was quite beautiful. Because the partitions were thin, she could hear rustling sounds from the next room, likely someone else changing clothes. Then came a soft, coquettish laugh, "This dress isn't cheap. Be honest—who paid for it?" Another woman's voice answered, "What do you mean, who paid? Of course, I paid for it myself."

Susu had no intention of eavesdropping on others' conversations, but the gown was not easy to take off. After finally changing into her cheongsam and reaching to fasten the clasp under her arm, she heard the first soft voice say coyly, "You can fool others, but how can you hide anything from me? Confess the truth. I heard that last night, you left with Third Young Master—and you didn't go home all night. I suppose he paid for this dress today, didn't he?"Susu’s fingers slipped, and the button slid from her grasp. Her mind was in a daze, her palms damp with sweat. The embroidered buttons on the cheongsam were tiny, and she simply couldn’t get a hold of them. The voices next door remained faintly audible—a soft, tinkling sound. “You little devil, who has such a long tongue? You’ve already heard about last night’s incident?” The laughter was light and sweet, but Susu felt waves of coldness washing over her, her mouth as bitter as if she were holding coptis root. The laughter and chatter next door faded into hushed, murmuring whispers, no longer discernible. Her steps felt unsteady as she walked out and encountered Weiyi, who let out a surprised “Oh!” and asked, “Third Sister-in-law, what’s wrong? In just a moment, your face has turned so pale.”

Susu replied, “It’s probably the heat.” As she watched the two women emerge from the fitting room, she cast a seemingly casual glance their way. The one in front was tall and slender, her striking face still carrying a faint, lingering smile. There was something vaguely familiar about her. Noticing Susu’s gaze, Weiyi said, “That’s Yuan Chengyu. Her recent films are quite popular.” Susu’s eyes were fixed on the woman’s lips, which shimmered with a captivating apricot-red hue. It felt as though she had been struck by a whip, a sharp, searing pain rising within her. Yuan Chengyu remained unaware, chatting and laughing with her companion as she asked the shop assistant to bring another outfit to try. Susu turned to Weiyi and said, “Let’s go.” Weiyi, concerned that she might be suffering from heatstroke given her pallor, suggested, “It’s so hot—why don’t we go to the park and sit down for some ice cream? It’s cool and breezy by the water.” Susu, still dazed, merely murmured, “Mm.”

The Western restaurant in the park overlooked Wuchi Lake, and the breeze from the water was refreshingly pleasant. Weiyi ordered ice cream, while Susu only asked for a cup of milk tea. Weiyi remarked, “Everything at home is fine, but we don’t have a lake breeze like this. That’s why Mother enjoys going to Fenggang every year to escape the summer heat.” Susu forced herself to sound cheerful and replied, “Actually, the house is surrounded by trees, so it’s quite peaceful.” After finishing their snacks, the two strolled slowly along the covered walkway. On one side, dense shade blanketed the ground; on the other, the fragrance of lotus blossoms wafted from the emerald waters. Gradually, Susu’s mind grew calmer. As they rounded a bend in the walkway, they unexpectedly encountered a couple walking hand in hand. The meeting was so sudden that they saw each other clearly before Susu even realized what was happening. The man froze in surprise. Only then did she recognize him as Zhuang Chengzhi. He had never expected to run into her and instinctively released his companion’s hand, hesitating as he greeted her, “Su… Third Young Mistress, hello.”