She remembered how the sky seemed to darken at that moment, everything in her sight turning into a vague, floating white, a void of emptiness. Tears unknowingly began to flow down her cheeks, dripping onto the back of her hand. Xu Ke stood up, slowly entering the elevator. The events of the past six years, suddenly unearthed, overturned all the conclusions she had made, leaving her emotions indescribably complex. Standing in the elevator, she felt dizzy. She came to the ICU, peering inside through the window. Shao Yiping lay quietly on the hospital bed, her frail body still lifeless, like an autumn leaf about to return to its roots. At this moment, Xu Ke only felt a deeper love for her because Shao Yiping had given more over the past twenty-five years than any biological mother could have. Without realizing it, she gripped the keys in her hand. The Rong Mansion, originally left by Shen Xiaoshan for her and her mother, was abandoned without a second thought when Shao Yiping took Xu Ke away years ago. Both were people of principle. Shao Yiping had not married Shen Xiaoshan for his money and did not wish to endure Li Jinghua’s unreasonable behavior and humiliation for the sake of the house. Had Shao Yiping not been ill, Xu Ke might not have accepted the keys. But now, she felt that her pride and dignity were insignificant compared to her mother’s health. There, the mansion offered peace, spaciousness, and fresh air, the perfect place for her mother to recuperate and spend her later years. That was the “home” Shen Xiaoshan had left for Shao Yiping. With these thoughts, Xu Ke left the hospital, hailed a taxi at the entrance, and headed back to the Rong Mansion to transform it into the likeness of their home in L City, so Shao Yiping could enjoy her later years there after leaving the hospital.
The taxi stopped by the outer wall of the villa area. Xu Ke got out. The night in May was cool, the air carrying a faint scent of roses. She entered the Rong Mansion, standing before the Shen family’s door, took out the keys, and opened the iron gate. The lights on the wall cast a soft, pale glow, and the lawn was as smooth as a carpet. Beyond the lawn, the large house lay quietly in the night, like a ship anchored in a harbor. Xu Ke walked along the pebble path through the lawn. The lanterns under the corridor, which her mother had once casually mentioned liking, were installed by Shen Xiaoshan himself. Xu Ke had never really understood why Shen Xiaoshan was so fond of her mother. When she asked Shao Yiping, she only smiled. A few days ago, she had been here with Shen Mu, but she didn’t pay much attention then. Now, as she walked, she turned on all the lights in the house, stirring memories from their slumber. The house was different from six years ago, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had changed. Xu Ke slowly ascended to the second floor, stopping in front of her old room. Hesitating for a moment, she gently pushed open the door. The room was empty; she had taken all her belongings when she left. A few magazines lay deserted on the bookcase, now yellowed. She picked one up, flipping through it. At that time, the TV was showing “The Return of the Condor Heroes,” and the magazine was filled with photos of Yang Guo and Xiaolongnü. She remembered discussing Yang Guo’s sixteen-year wait with Mo Xiaoxiao, filled with admiration and envy. What did Shen Mu say back then? He seemed to say nothing, just gave them a scornful look, hands in his pockets, and hummed, “Little girls, so easy to deceive.” Yet, he watched too. Suddenly, her nose tingled, and she gently put the magazine down. Some things, he too cherished in his heart. Over the past six years, the one who had suffered the most wasn’t her, but him. While she harbored only resentment, he bore a heavy psychological burden, a misunderstanding that was a terrible nightmare for him. She couldn’t imagine how he had endured those years. Scenes of their recent encounters flashed before her eyes; he was thinner, more profound, his actions more inscrutable, like the deep sea in the dark night where even the tumultuous currents and crashing waves were hidden beneath the cloak of night, unknown to others. She opened the window, standing on the balcony, taking a long breath of the fresh air to dilute the bitterness in her heart. Why did Shen Xiaoshan say those things? Perhaps because he knew Li Jinghua too well, anticipating her unrest after his death, he entrusted her care to Shen Mu, hoping he would look after her well. If she was doing well, naturally, Shao Yiping would also have a good life. Such were the deep, practical emotions of middle-aged people, yet he hadn’t anticipated such a misunderstanding, his well-intentioned plans going awry. She sighed in sorrow.
Suddenly, the headlights of a car flashed outside the iron gate. She was startled, her heart inexplicably racing. Was he back? Hadn’t Li Jinghua said he wasn’t in the city? The gate opened, and a tall figure appeared by the entrance. Despite the dim light across the lawn, she recognized his silhouette. He seemed surprised to see lights on and someone inside, paused at the end of the pebble path for a moment, then slowly walked towards her. Standing on the second-floor balcony, her heartbeat fluctuated with his approaching steps. As he neared, his features became clearer, and a sour, painful feeling lodged between her brows. He appeared to see her too, stopping at the corridor, looking up. The evening breeze ruffled his shirt and the hair on his forehead, and under the gentle light, he seemed like the boy from yesteryears. The spirited, youthful days suddenly came to mind. Her heart was softly swelling with pain; she had once loved, hated, and tried to forget. Today, upon learning the truth, she could no longer distinguish her feelings—whether it was regret or melancholy. Time had silently slipped through her fingers, enough to transform deep affection into a vast, changing landscape.
“Xiao Ke,” he called out gently, his head tilted back to look at her. Her tears seemed to be on the verge of falling, just waiting for his soft call. She hurriedly turned and walked into the house, not wanting him to see her cry. His footsteps echoed on the stairs, and memories from years ago flooded back. She often listened to those footsteps, knowing he had returned, and then she would feel safe enough to sleep.
He gently pushed open the door, stood at the threshold, and looked at her with eyes as profound as ever. She was momentarily dazed but quickly composed herself. How could time be turned back? She tried to calm her thoughts, making her voice low and steady. “Today, your mother came looking for me. I thought you weren’t in town and wouldn’t come back.”
“I went to M City and just got back,” he said as he entered, his gaze falling on a magazine, flipping through it casually. “Did my mom come to see you?” Up close, his face was slightly flushed, his eyes brighter and more animated than usual, as if he had been drinking. Xu Ke bit her lip, “Yes, I know everything now.”
Shen Mu walked over to the window, his back to her, and said softly, “I am her closest kin in this world. She had an accident because of me. She threatened to kill herself to prevent me from coming back. You can’t imagine the pain, the despair, and the immense pressure I felt. Before my father died, his last words left me with such a sense of guilt and despair. I thought I should bear it alone; I didn’t want you to know all this.”
Her heart ached, and although she no longer harbored hatred towards him, this moment was filled with such a poignant release. She no longer had any resentment towards him; she didn’t regret having loved him. “When I said that to Auntie Shao in front of you, I wanted you to hate me, to forget me.” He paused, then continued in a low voice, “I also wanted to forget you.”
