Overdo

I shuddered, recalling his vicious expression that day, the sting of the ruler striking my body, and his gritted-teeth threat: "I'll beat you to death!" I said coldly, "I'm not afraid! Just kill me then." I repeated his words deliberately: "Anyway, I'm a wretched scoundrel!"

He trembled with rage. "Fine! Fine! You didn't drive me to my grave last time, and you're still not satisfied! How did I ever spawn something like you?! Why didn't I strangle you at birth for peace?!"

I murmured faintly, "I'm not your child."

Four

He froze. For a few seconds, I grew fearful he might collapse like last time, but I quickly mustered courage, bracing for his outburst. I listened to his ragged panting, awaiting the slap—yet it never came. He stood motionless, staring at me as if I were an alien, his voice strangely feeble. "Susu sent you back, didn't she? She told you to confront me, to take revenge—to reclaim every suffering she endured, isn't that right?"

A chill ran down my spine. In the dead silence of the deep night, Father's ominous tone terrified me. His face flushed crimson, eyes bloodshot as he glared, making my hair stand on end. "She wants to reclaim every suffering she endured, doesn't she?"

I stared at him in horror, but he turned away in anguish. "The way I treated you... you must despise me. But why... Susu! You don't understand!"

I thought Father was drunk and considered calling attendants to take him to his room. I cried, "Father!" He jolted slightly, then slowly said, "Nannan, I beat you... so brutally. You hate me too, don't you? You resent me like your mother, isn't that right?"

I swallowed hard. "Oh, Father, I don't hate you." He continued as if to himself, "I know you loathe me, just like your mother! You can't imagine how terrified I've been—terrified you'd become like her! I never rested until I saw you safely asleep. You don't know... how merciless your mother was back then... She just sped off in the car... How heartless... She hated me to the core—so this was her revenge—she retaliated with death... How cruel..."

I stood utterly stunned as Father's drunken ramblings unraveled the past. Gradually, I grasped his meaning. "I never knew... she would... I never realized she hated me!" His tone was utterly desolate. "You were so small... crying in the room... yet she never looked back... She just drove straight out... She didn't even know how to drive... She meant to die... She died to prove her hatred..." He gazed at me despairingly. "You wept so loudly in the room, but she never glanced back... She abandoned me, and even you!"My heart twisted into a knot as I watched Father—how helpless and vulnerable he appeared in that moment. My formidable, awe-inspiring father! He was genuinely frightened! He was truly in despair... I felt so wretched I wanted to burst into tears, but I held back. I couldn't bear to listen any longer! I couldn't stand hearing Father's sorrowful voice anymore. I loudly called for the aides, who arrived promptly. I said, "The gentleman is drunk. Help him back to his room."

Father obediently let them support him as they led him away. I stood there alone, dazed and motionless for a long while. The chandelier in the corridor was lit, its light refracting through the crystals and casting a dazzling glare. I only felt an itchy sensation on my face, something cold and crawling. When I reached up to wipe it, I realized I had been crying.

The next afternoon, Father called. "Come with me to Uncle Huo's for dinner tonight. Pick out a nice outfit to wear, and do your hair properly—don't go looking disheveled." I was greatly surprised. Father had never given me any instructions about clothing before. After Grandmother passed away, my attire had been entirely handled by specialists arranged by the aides' office. Even when I occasionally accompanied Father to diplomatic events, he had never given such reminders. Why was Father placing so much importance on this casual dinner at Uncle Huo's house?

Father hung up, leaving me full of suspicion. What kind of treacherous banquet was this dinner at Uncle Huo's tonight?

As my mind raced with chaotic thoughts, I asked A Zhu to open the door to the dressing room for me. Since Father had emphasized it so seriously, I didn't dare wear any of my messy clothes. I obediently chose a short qipao of apricot-yellow satin, embroidered with crabapple blossoms in gold and silver thread, and asked Aunt Feng to do my hair. I applied light makeup and looked in the mirror, feeling it made me appear overly mature and staid. But that was exactly the style Father's generation admired most—there was no helping it.

Before six o'clock, the aides sent a car to pick me up, explaining that Father had some matters to attend to and wanted me to go to the Huo residence first; he would join later. Though I had ten thousand reasons to refuse, I had no choice but to obediently get in the car. Fortunately, Huo Mingyou from the Huo family was my senior schoolmate, and we had known each other since childhood. Once I arrived at the Huo residence, spending time with him wasn't too dull.

Father didn't arrive until almost eight o'clock, and as soon as he did, the banquet officially began. The Huo family maintained the demeanor of an old-established household. As the saying goes, the first generation focuses on food, the second on clothing, and the third on scholarship. The Huo family had never lost their influence over decades, and their airs were fully intact. At their home, one could enjoy authentic Suzhou cuisine, which even my picky father found quite satisfactory. I, too, relished a delightful meal of my favorite dishes.

After dinner, Father seemed to be in very high spirits, as he actually suggested, "Nannan, play a piece for us." I was taken aback and stammered, "I didn't bring my instrument." Uncle Huo enthusiastically said, "We have a violin at home. Mingyou, have someone bring it for Nannan to see. If it's usable, we'll listen to Nannan play a piece."It seemed I was caught between a rock and a hard place. Steeling myself, I took the violin Huo Mingyou had fetched—a delicate Stradivarius. As expected, everything in the Huo family was a priceless heirloom. I tested the strings and, as if possessed, unexpectedly played a melody from The Butterfly Lovers. Startled, I immediately glanced at Father. He never listened to The Butterfly Lovers, and for some reason, it was strictly forbidden at home. I remembered once accompanying him to a concert where the orchestra spontaneously performed "The Butterfly Lovers" as an encore. Father’s expression instantly darkened, and he complained of a headache before hastily leaving, surrounded by attendants. The next day, journalists had a field day speculating about his health.

When I looked over, Father’s face had indeed changed, but he quickly composed himself and even smiled at me, saying, "This piece is good. Play this."

Surprised, I had no choice but to obey. Though rusty from lack of practice, the beginning was stiff and awkward, but as I continued, the playing grew smoother. Besides, there were no connoisseurs present, so I confidently played two sections, and everyone applauded enthusiastically. Father, however, seemed distracted and whispered something to Uncle Lei, who then walked away. I felt a strange, indescribable unease, as if something was about to happen.

After the banquet, a small cocktail party followed. Father and a group of uncles went off to discuss matters, and I slipped away to the Huo family’s orchid conservatory. Aside from being slightly less impressive than the one at Shuangqiao Official Residence, their orchid house was truly one of the finest in Wuchi. I remembered they had a pot of "Tianli" that was even better than the ones at Shuangqiao. It was the blooming season for ink orchids, and I hoped to catch a glimpse of it.

The orchid house was dimly lit, which was disappointing—I might run into a few uncles pretending to be refined, "sipping tea while admiring the flowers." As I passed through the sparse Flower Barrier formed by hibiscus bushes, my gaze fell upon someone standing gracefully before the "Tianli" pot, seemingly admiring the flowers. Hearing my footsteps, she turned abruptly, and I froze on the spot.

Her white dress was as pure as snow, her presence as serene as an orchid.

She stood there, her beauty so profound and penetrating that I could hardly look directly at her. Behind her were some of the world’s most beautiful and rare orchids, yet amidst them, she shone even more brilliantly.

I had never seen anyone so beautiful. Though time had left its traces on her face, when she finally offered me a faint smile, the only thought that surfaced in my mind was: "One glance overturns a city, a second glance overturns a kingdom."

Her voice was also exceptionally gentle and melodious, though it carried a hint of timidity. "Are you Nannan?"