Chapter 32 Chapter 32

Chapter 32

1

Lin Chenxin collected herself and glanced around.

This room was darker than the one next door. Everything was neatly arranged; though the space felt sterile, the numerous boxes stood out starkly.

That other room had preserved the appearance of the former occupant’s living quarters, while all the mementos were stored here.

She reached out and touched a nearby box. It wasn’t locked—the clasp was smooth, slightly chipped, indicating frequent handling.

Upon opening it, the first thing she saw was a bouquet of dried flowers.

She paused, startled—then looked deeper. Beneath the bouquet lay delicate handmade crafts, inexpensive trinkets from street vendors, and carefully preserved movie and bus tickets.

All ordinary items—keepsakes from a couple’s dates.

She turned to the second box. Inside were more personal, everyday objects: cups, gloves, a wooden comb—clearly hand-carved—and a hand-knitted scarf.

Among them sat a palm-sized velvet box. She opened it to find two silver rings gleaming inside.

A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she lowered her gaze and closed the box.

Next came the third box—much larger than the previous ones—filled with more items, all meticulously arranged.

Dominating the space was a photo frame.

She lifted it out: a wedding photograph of Chen Gujun’s mother and Mr. Chen.

A handsome young man and a beautiful young woman leaned against each other, their faces radiant with sweet, joyful smiles, their eyes brimming with hope for the future.

The woman in the photo looked younger and more vivid than in the portrait—her eyes bright and alive.

Mr. Chen, too, appeared strikingly youthful—early twenties—his eyes uncannily like Chen Gujun’s: crinkling into crescents when he smiled, warm and gentle, utterly free of the heaviness that shadowed them now.

She looked away, then silently gazed at the neatly folded wedding dress inside the box.

A flower was pinned to the veil. Though the veil remained intact, the flower had long since withered and died.

Setting the photo frame aside, she turned back to the previously opened boxes.

It was like tracing the quiet, tender story of two young lovers. There was no extravagance befitting a wealthy family—only the simple, intimate warmth of shared daily life, brimming with genuine love.

If this was the timeline…

Her eyes fell upon the largest box, tucked deep in the shadows.

The moment she opened it, her gaze met a ceramic figurine—shattered, then painstakingly reassembled—a family of three holding hands.

Her fingers traced the cracks—rough, uneven beneath her touch. Even glued back together, it remained fractured and incomplete.

Pushing the ceramic aside, she uncovered a pair of tiny hand-knitted shoes, a soft infant garment, a little tiger hat, and countless other baby-related items.

The massive box was densely packed. At the very bottom lay children’s toys: a mobile, dolls, flashcards with words printed on them.

At that moment, Lin Chenxin’s heart swelled—so full it threatened to overflow.

Chen Gujun’s mother had loved him deeply.

She had awaited his arrival with boundless anticipation.

Finally, tucked into the farthest corner at the very bottom, Lin Chenxin retrieved a longevity lock.

The character “君” (Jun) was engraved upon it.

She bowed her head, clutching it tightly.

Whether the child was a boy or a girl, the mother had wished for him—or her—to be upright, kind, noble, and resilient as pine and cypress.

But had she known?

Her child was named Chen Gujun—a name stripped of all hope.

Lin Chenxin released her grip and lowered her gaze to the red cord still tied around her own wrist.

There, too, had once hung a longevity lock—handmade by her parents.

They had named her Lin Chenxin.

Her mother had hoped her heart would be as steadfast as stone—her character unshakable. Her father had wished for her desires to be fulfilled, her path free of obstacles, her life smooth and untroubled.

Most of all—because they both held boundless expectations and love for her.

Under what circumstances would parents cruelly name their child Chen Gujun?

Lin Chenxin’s eyelashes dipped low.

Suddenly, a shrill voice pierced the silence from outside.

“The master has already arrived at the gate! Hurry—clean the courtyard!”

She jolted, instantly snapping back to reality.

Glancing down at the longevity lock in her hand, she clenched it tight.

Then, quickly regaining her composure, she slipped quietly out of the room—and replaced the broken lock.

—

Hurrying out of the Nameless Courtyard, she didn’t even have time to glance toward what might be the ancestral hall before spotting the young woman standing outside.

The moment the woman saw her, she immediately bowed her head and hurried away in silence.

Lin Chenxin coolly looked away and continued walking. But just as she reached the central hall, she saw Mr. Chen striding toward her.

Her heart tightened—she froze in place.

Reasoning that they had already crossed paths, and that appearing more flustered would only arouse suspicion, she straightened her posture, preparing to meet Mr. Chen’s gaze head-on.

Then, abruptly, the Second Young Miss’s sharp, piercing voice erupted beside her.

“Lin Chenxin! Did you do this on purpose? How dare you send me something so disgusting to eat!”

With a loud *thump*, the food box crashed to the ground—the lid skittering across the floor and coming to rest at Lin Chenxin’s feet.

The Second Young Lady came storming over, without even stopping to catch her breath before confronting Lin Chenxin.

Seeing the Second Young Lady's furious face, Lin Chenxin let out a subtle sigh of relief, raised a challenging eyebrow, and said, "What are you talking about? I don't understand, Second Young Lady."

"You did it on purpose!"

The second young lady pointed her finger straight at Lin Chenxin's nose.

She had been keeping a low profile lately, and today she finally felt like taking a walk, only to have her mood ruined by the pastries from Lin Chenxin.

Lin Chenxin caught sight of Mr. Chen out of the corner of her eye, looked at the second young lady, and gave a soft chuckle, whispering, "Yes, I did it on purpose."

"You... you..."

"What's all this commotion?"

Mr. Chen strode over.

The second young lady turned and saw Mr. Chen, her bluster immediately dying down.

"She deliberately gave me something awful to eat."

Mr. Chen looked at the food box on the ground and said calmly, "It's only a small thing. Making such a fuss is unseemly."

You could tell Mr. Chen was in a good mood, indicating that the business outside had gone smoothly.

The second young lady was still fuming and stomped her foot angrily.

Mr. Chen paid her no mind, glanced at Lin Chenxin, and said, "It seems you haven't fully recovered from that illness. Send another batch of medicinal herbs to Junzi Courtyard."

"Yes," someone behind him responded.

Mr. Chen's voice rang out right beside Lin Chenxin, its authoritative and cold tone feeling like worms crawling in her ears.

Without looking up, she said, "I'm leaving."

She turned and walked away, without a glance at the food box on the ground, and from start to finish, never once looked Mr. Chen in the eye.

Yet Mr. Chen's gaze remained fixed on her from behind.

Even as she walked into the sunlight, she still felt a chill all over.

—

Before she had even stepped through the gate of Junzi Courtyard, the wind chimes inside were already ringing.

The tension in Lin Chenxin's face eased slightly, and her mood quickly lifted.

She walked quickly through the courtyard gate and saw Chen Gujun sitting in the shade of the corridor, folding paper flowers in his hands.

Her heart stirred, and her steps slowed. She turned to look at the withered peach tree in the front yard, which was indeed covered in peach blossoms. At first glance, it seemed as if the tree had regained its vitality.

"Which book did you learn this from?" She sat down beside Chen Gujun, snuggling close to him.

Chen Gujun turned his head to look at her and handed her the flower in his hand.

The delicate, pink peach blossom was meticulously crafted, though its petals lacked the vitality of a real flower.

But Lin Chenxin was still utterly charmed by it.

"Let's make them together."

She leaned against Chen Gujun and tried to copy what he was doing.

But the flowers she made weren't as beautiful as his.

She pinned the flower she'd made behind Chen Gujun's ear, her eyes crinkling into a smile.

Chen Gujun gave her a helpless look but didn't remove the flower.

Spoiled by his tolerance, Lin Chenxin's smile widened.

"Next time it rains, let's go for a walk. Just outside Junzi Courtyard, to the right, there's a stone bridge. At the end of it is a pavilion in the middle of a lake. Usually, no one goes there. Sometimes when I pass by, I see lotus leaves and lotus flowers on the lake..."

Lin Chenxin spoke softly, and Chen Gujun listened patiently.

One peach blossom after another took shape in their hands. Lin Chenxin's voice mingled with the wind chimes on the eaves, making it hard to tell which was more pleasing to the ear.

"Okay."

Chen Gujun replied softly.

—

That night, Lin Chenxin slept poorly, waking up after less than an hour.

Hearing noises from the back courtyard, she got out of bed and walked toward it.

There, she saw Chen Gujun watering the seeds in the ground.

She stopped in her tracks, staring blankly at Chen Gujun's figure, his white hair fluttering slightly.

"Those seeds are already dead," she said softly.

Chen Gujun stopped and turned to look at her.

"Let's try. What if?"

Meeting Chen Gujun's dark, profound gaze, she strode over and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Through the thin fabric, Lin Chenxin's warmth and the softness of her body seemed to melt into him.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he wrapped his arms around her.

Tonight's moon was neither full nor bright, casting no shadows on the ground, but the wind was gentle.

Suddenly, Chen Gujun lowered his head and met Lin Chenxin's bright eyes.

Lin Chenxin took his hand and placed a small longevity lock in his palm.

His fingers trembled slightly as he watched Lin Chenxin cover his hand with hers.

"I saw your mother. She was even more beautiful than I imagined. This must be what she meant for you to have. I brought it out."

Chen Gujun threw his head back, closed his eyes, and tightly clasped the longevity lock and Lin Chenxin's hand in his palm.

He could see for miles, hear for miles, shatter a hard lock with a look, and light the lamps on the eaves with a wave of his hand.

But he couldn't do what Lin Chenxin could.

"Thank you," he rasped.

Lin Chenxin gripped Chen Gujun's clothes, burying her face in his chest and breathing in his cold scent.

This "thank you" didn't sound joyful to her.

Suddenly, a cold hand grasped her wrist.

She stiffened and looked up, seeing Chen Gujun thread the longevity lock onto the red string around her wrist.

Beneath the small longevity lock hung a few tiny bells that would jingle when shaken.

She grabbed Chen Gujun's hand, her eyes fixed on him.

Chen Gujun smiled at her—a faint, gentle smile.

But perhaps because the night was too dark,

his deep, dark eyes seemed to brim with profound sorrow.

"Wear it," he said.

Such a soft tone, yet it struck Lin Chenxin with an inexplicable emptiness.

She wanted to hold Chen Gujun's hand, but he let go.

Her hand closed on empty air, and the bells on the longevity lock chimed crisply.