‘He talked a whole lot about loving you but the moment his own self-interest was threatened, he abandoned you immediately.’
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Ch. 14.1
From outside came the faint sound of what sounded like rain. Jingwan turned her face somewhat blindly towards the sound — it was indeed raining. A few minutes later, the rain became heavier and was soon pattering against the leaves. Although it was just the start of summer, the sound of this rain called to mind late autumn and its accompanying faint chill in the air that could be felt all the way to the heart. She was actually unnerved.
She thought of the time when she had been around seven or eight years old. Her family had still been living in an old courtyard house. There had been a sudden downpour one summer’s day while she and Jianzhang had been in the back courtyard. After blocking up the gutter with tile fragments which caused the courtyard to be flooded, she had then dragged Jianzhang with her to play in the water. They had been absolutely soaked, thoroughly drenched, but how they had enjoyed themselves, chortling the whole time. Soon after, her anxious and exasperated nanny had finally come in search of her and had marched them back to the main house without delay. Her father had hit the roof and seized a feather duster to cane her. This had alarmed Jianzhang so much that he had knelt down and pleaded, ‘Uncle, Uncle, it was all my fault, nothing to do with Meimei.’
As children, he had always called her Mèimei (Younger Sister), shielded her and secretly helped her with the writing of big characters. She had not liked practising with a brush pen but had to hand in tracing calligraphy homework every day, thus he had prepared several pre-written sheets for her at home that she could use instead. Even to this day, his penmanship could easily pass for hers.
She did not know when he had stopped addressing her as his younger sister. Perhaps it was after she had started school? She had attended a girls’ school established and run by foreigners where all the pupils had been the daughters of wealthy families. Even the younger ones had been given to vying among themselves, whether it was over family backgrounds, who was the most fashionable, or new clothes. She had always been one of the outstanding ones, constantly trying to be one up on other people. A fellow classmate, whom she had been close to, had written to her after returning from studying abroad, telling her about her engagement to the Premier’s son. Intentional or otherwise¹, there had been a gloating undercurrent in the letter. Jingwan had been faintly nettled at the time but then had thought: Jianzhang was gentle and considerate and there was nobody who would treat her half as well.
¹ 有意無意 yǒuyì-wúyì. If you’re not reading this chapter at hiding in plain sight, it has been stolen and reproduced by novelscraping sites.
Murong Feng saw that she appeared to be lost in thought so he went across to close the window, saying, ‘The wind is strong at night. You’ve just recovered so be careful not to catch a chill.’ He turned his head around to look at her and smiled engagingly.
The memory of what he had said to her in the orchid hothouse that day was productive of inner turmoil. Jingwan had actually been momentarily swayed but then had immediately thought of Jianzhang and had been instantly guilt-stricken. Ever since they had met, Murong Feng had been like a whistling arrow that had upended the entire rhythm of her life. She had always thought that her life would progress in a logical way: falling in love with Jianzhang, marrying him, starting a family, and then settling down into a secure and comfortable existence for the rest of her life.
But he was different. He had opened up her mental horizons with a bang and shown her a resplendent, glittering world that all ordinary people looked up to; at the same time it was one with too many variables and risks. Such imposing, dazzling and vibrant prospects presented a considerable temptation that quickened her pulse.
He had declared, ‘I want to lay this world at your feet.’ How many men in the world could profess their feelings in such terms to the woman they loved?
High position and great wealth² did not tempt her but the novelty and thrill of an unknown future did. However, deep down had always lurked an obscure misgiving: one that she had not been able to put her finger on, that she had not dared to explore. Ever since Murong Feng had made himself clear tonight, this unease had intensified, becoming clearer and after sorting out her turbulent thoughts, it all began to make sense gradually. That misgiving then became a cold, hard certainty, one which lodged deep inside her heart and Jingwan knew that there was no possibility of deceiving herself any more. She could no longer wilfully ignore the doubts that she had always kept buried in her heart. She shivered suddenly and looked up at Murong Feng.
Enunciating every word, she asked clearly, ‘Sixth Marshal, there’s something you have to make plain — what was it you did to Xu Jianzhang before?’
He looked mildly surprised but also as though he had foreseen this: his expression was too complicated to be put into words. Something flashed in his eyes and with a curl of his lip, he replied, ‘I knew you would ask me that someday.’
² 榮華富貴 rónghuá-fùguì. Translation belongs to theresanother(DOT)wordpress(DOT)com.
She felt chilled to the marrow.
His tone was unconcerned as he went on, ‘I didn’t do anything to him. I merely opened his eyes to what was at stake. Jingwan, he doesn’t love you enough. At the very least, he isn’t willing to give up his business in Chengzhou, or money and profit for your sake.’
Jingwan only felt a profound sense of disillusion. She did not know if she was disappointed because of Jianzhang or because Murong Feng had admitted it so frankly and there was despair in her eyes as she said, ‘As expected, you were so despicable.’
His heart constricted painfully — he was not so much angry as inexplicably hurt.
‘Despicable? I only told him to choose, so you can’t say that I was despicable. Jingwan, everything in this world must be fought for. He doesn’t even want to fight, how can he protect you? If he can’t even protect the one he loves, how can he be considered a real man?’
Her eyes were smouldering with anger as she pointed out, ‘You coerced him using your power. What choice did he have?’
Murong Feng gripped her hand. ‘Jingwan, I love you which is why I wanted to teach him that I love you more than he does. I didn’t use any underhanded means — I just laid bare the truth for him to see.’
She stated unemotionally, ‘You can’t use loving me as an excuse for poaching me from him.’
Fury blazed in his eyes for a second. ‘Poaching you from him? So that’s what you think. Yin Jingwan, you’re underestimating me. If I had really wanted to do so, he might not even be alive right now. If I had really wanted to snatch you from him, I wouldn’t have respected or loved you to the extent that I haven’t laid a finger on you even until now. I’ve asked myself, in these twenty-odd years, when have I ever been this considerate of anyone? If I could, I would give you all that you desire. I thought you understood what I’ve done for you, so why, why are you treating me like this?’
His face, distorted with anger, was frightening and his eyes looked ready to devour her. He was being so overbearing that without really knowing why, Jingwan suddenly made up her mind, lifted her chin and declared loudly, ‘Because I don’t love you.’
This was unequivocal and he flinched, as did she. He gazed at her as though in a dream, went ‘mhm’ and after a long pause, repeated in a low voice, ‘You don’t love me?’
It felt as if there were a pot of water in her heart: one that was bubbling furiously, on the verge of exploding. She squashed the feeling ruthlessly and enunciated every word precisely, almost as if she were telling herself, ‘I don’t love you.’
His palm was cold, the knuckles stiff as he continued to grasp her hand. He seemed to have lost control over the strength of his grip and her hand was hurting, but her heart was in even greater distress. It felt as if the pot of water had boiled over, leaving only a feeling of numbness after the scalding pain. She knew very well that after this numbness passed, how harrowing the pain would be and could only think: I mustn’t think about it, I don’t want to think any more.
Slowly she extricated her hand, finger by finger, from his grasp before turning her face away and saying, ‘Sixth Marshal, please go. I want to rest.’
Murong Feng took a step back and stated, ‘I knew you would blame me, but all I did was let you see his true colours. He talked a whole lot about loving you but the moment his own self-interest was threatened, he abandoned you immediately. Jingwan, do you still not get it?’
Her heart felt hollow — it was even more painful a sensation than sadness. It felt as if someone had dug a piece of her heart out and then stuffed something hard in its place. She struggled instinctively against this hardness and lifted her face, a smile spreading slowly across it as she replied, ‘Sixth Marshal, you’re right, you merely let me see his true colours. But there are many things that cannot be helped in this world. Can you yourself give up your standing, your life, and half the country³ for my sake?’
He was stunned and it took some time before he finally protested, ‘Jingwan.’
She continued, ‘Sixth Marshal, don’t do unto others what you don’t want done unto you. Surely you understand something so simple?’
³ 半壁江山 bànbì-jiāngshān. Please consider reading from theresanother(DOT)wordpress(DOT)com rather than from novelscraping sites.
Murong Feng’s heart was wrung. Her expression was cold and remote — this remoteness was causing the deepest recesses of his heart to ache. He had never felt so helpless in his life before: in the twenty-odd years of his life, there had been nothing beyond his reach and he knew very well that there were even greater things awaiting him. He had lofty ambitions, he was lord of all he surveyed, yet at this very moment he felt a profound sense of loss. This sense of loss left him feeling powerless: he wanted to say something but the words would not come.
The rain outside was getting heavier and the sound of it merely contributed an unaccountable turmoil to his feelings. Jingwan’s head was slightly bowed and the dangling earrings she had on brushed against her collar. Under the light, the earrings cast two tiny swaying shadows on her ginger-yellow qipao made of qiyun silk. Qiyun silk was a very thin and smooth fabric that had a cold sheen under the light. He remembered the way he had pulled her into his arms earlier and how the cool silk had clung to his skin. The only warmth there had been had emanated from her, producing a bewildered ecstasy within him, like a moth drawn to flame.
However, the only thing that remained now was the coolness of the silky material; this chill slowly spread to his heart and caused an insuppressible painful spasm. While conscious that the only thing left was disappointment, the swaying of her earrings like an unsettled heart had the effect of discomposing him nevertheless. He was incapable of reflection at the moment, only sensing that he could not press her any further.
(Approx. 1945 words)
12’s notes:
Edited after post was published.
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Translated and edited by 12
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