Chapter 40 Chapter 40

Chapter 40

1

That drop of ink seemed to fall into Lin Chenxin's heart, burning into her like a searing sting, leaving an indelible mark.

In that brief moment when their eyes met, neither of them spoke.

One forced herself to stay calm.

The other fooled herself into pretending she saw nothing.

After a long while, Chen Gujun was the first to look away, his lashes drooping like falling snow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

At this, Lin Chenxin froze, then her breath hitched.

Chen Gujun had no idea what was happening outside.

Why?

Could he not see? Could he not hear anymore?

No matter what, Chen Gujun always stayed silent, never pretending to be clueless.

She knew that well.

Lin Chenxin tightly clenched her fingers, trying to drown the pain in her heart with the ache in her palm.

"Nothing."

She forced a smile, looked at Chen Gujun's face, and whispered, "I just missed you."

Chen Gujun's lashes fluttered as he raised his eyes to meet hers.

Wind blew in through the window, ruffling both their hair.

Their eyes met. At this moment, even though only a desk stood between them, it felt like mountains and seas apart.

—

In the dead of night.

Lin Chenxin sat in a pitch-black room, staring hard at the closed door in front of her.

Her face was expressionless, melting into the darkness.

But her hands in her lap were almost shredding her pants.

Finally, she stood up, her eyes sharp, staring straight ahead, and raised her hand to open the door.

Outside, it was dead silent.

She stepped across the threshold. The light above her didn't come on, but the red lanterns from the study cast a glow at her feet.

Only then did it hit her that ever since she'd had the red lanterns in these two rooms replaced, the study light had never gone out at night.

She gripped the doorframe so hard her nails made a heartbreaking screech.

The lamplight cast a blurry shadow of her. She didn't dare look sideways, forcing herself to step forward into the cold air and down the stairs.

The moon gate was locked, but the iron mesh on the wall wasn't done yet.

That wall was taller than two of her stacked up, and standing under it, she could barely see the top.

She pressed her lips together, looking at the peach tree beside her, still covered in blossoms.

The second she reached out to grab the trunk, the peach blossoms above rained down in a cascade.

Already battered by the wind, what was left of the blossoms was even sparser now.

She lowered her lashes, steeled herself, and stepped onto the fallen petals without a flicker of emotion.

As she looked up, her eyes shone like stars as she started to climb.

Ms. Liang was right.

She couldn't handle the consequences of knowing the truth.

This was her choice.

Just as the last shaky peach blossom was about to fall, a clinking sound came from the lock of the moon gate.

Her heart clenched, and she froze on the spot.

With a creak, the door slowly swung open in the dark.

She stared hard at that dark, gaping opening. Suddenly, the two red lanterns above it flared to life, casting a crimson glow that lit the path under the gate.

The second the lanterns flared, Lin Chenxin let go of the branch, staring blankly at the open door.

After a long pause, she half-closed her eyes, shadows covering her face.

She stepped forward, walking toward the light that was guiding her.

When she reached the gate, the light above wrapped around her. She paused for a moment, standing there, but in the end, she didn't look back.

She kept walking along the lit path. With another creak, another door ahead swung open for her, and two lanterns lit up.

She didn't stop, continuing forward at a steady pace.

So door after door opened for her, each like a dark, gaping mouth, but soon the red lanterns lit her way, turning into exits that welcomed the morning.

When she reached the last moon gate, she suddenly stopped, head bowed, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Under the gentle lamplight, clear teardrops fell from the halo, like pearls off a broken string, silently hitting the ground.

The lanterns here had never been lit since they were hung.

Because every time she returned, someone was always waiting for her in the dark depths.

But this time, the one who waited for her was absent, yet they had found another way to light her path.

This was the first time they shone, and likely the last.

She opened her mouth, unable to stifle a choked sob.

Finally, she pressed her lips tight, lifted her tear-streaked eyes and ran forward like a madwoman.

The road was completely empty, and aside from her own footsteps, the entire estate was wrapped in a deathly silence.

She ran across the courtyard, onto the long corridor, her falling tears turned into pearls that drifted through the air.

The wind rushing toward her cut into her face like a knife, the icy air slicing her heart and lungs with every breath.

She pressed her lips tightly shut, afraid of letting out her last breath, and equally afraid of letting out a choked sob.

The wide-open Chen family gate ahead loomed like the last prison door, welcoming the bright morning light.

Her eyes, full of tears, shone like stars as she gathered her last ounce of strength, stepped over the threshold and dashed out.

But she still didn’t stop, not even looking back.

Behind her, the two stone lions stood there silently.

The open door looked like a pair of eyes, quietly watching her as she walked away.

She ran against the wind, her palms cold and her lungs aching, yet her consciousness seemed to have left her body the moment she crossed the threshold. She could barely feel her limbs and moved them only by instinct.

She ran for God knows how far or how long, until her body couldn't take it anymore. Her pace slowed, turning into a stumble, but she still didn't stop.

Suddenly, headlights flashed across her eyes. She froze, dazed, and lifted her head blankly.

Ahead, on the wide road, a few cars passed by, their flickering lights like stars in the night.

The wind hitting her face now carried the muggy summer heat, no longer biting cold.

She looked up at the sky, where a crescent moon hung in the clear, high sky.

Then, she heard the sharp, piercing sound of a car horn and the chirping of cicadas, bringing the sweltering heat.

Before long, she turned her head and saw a car stopped at the crosswalk, its glaring headlights shining right into her eyes, stinging so much she almost started crying.

In that instant, it felt like she had come back to life, sensing the world around her again, and clearly feeling her own existence.

With vacant eyes, she looked ahead, moving her stiff, aching legs, step by step, her dark shadow trailing behind as she moved toward the bright streetlight.

—

The hospital lobby, fresh from handling an emergency, hadn't fully quieted down yet.

A nurse passing through stopped in the lobby, turning to look at the person standing still at the entrance.

Frowning, confused, she walked over slowly and said, “Hello, can I help you?”

The person at the door didn't say a word, until the nurse recognized the face and her eyes widened in shock.

She quickly stepped back a couple of paces, turned toward the elevator and called out, “Doctor Jiang, Chen Yi’s sister is here!”

Soon, hurried footsteps came closer.

“Chenxin.”

Hearing the familiar voice, Lin Chenxin, who was standing at the foot of the steps, slowly lifted her head.

Doctor Jiang was startled, rushed to her side, then stopped abruptly, looking at her cautiously, scared to reach out and touch her.

“Chenxin?”

Her hair was disheveled, her face pale yet drenched in sweat, but what was most alarming were her eyes hollow and lifeless, as if her soul had been ripped away, bearing the marks of some immense blow.

Suddenly, she collapsed to the ground with a thud. Doctor Jiang moved to help her, but saw her lower her head, shoulders trembling, as she wept in anguish.

Silence enveloped them all, a bitter ache gripping everyone’s throats.

Doctor Jiang’s heart tightened as she watched Lin Chenxin wordlessly.

Except for the time when her parents died, when she had seen the young girl crying alone in a corner, she had never seen her sob so heart-wrenchingly.

She didn’t know what had happened, but that cry was enough to pain everyone present.

—

The second young lady stepped out of the room, glancing back at the young master lying in bed.

Today, the young master had fallen asleep early, and was sleeping deeply.

A couple of days ago, he could get up and move around, but now it seemed like a fleeting moment of vitality.

The sky above was overcast, the indistinct day and night casting a gloomy, oppressive atmosphere over the surroundings.

The second young lady was deeply anxious.

But she couldn’t see her mother; she heard that business outside had gone wrong, and her father had been gone for two days without returning.

The entire Chen residence was silent, eerily still, making people afraid.

She always felt that the Chen residence now seemed cut off from the world, with no one able to enter from outside, and no one able to leave from within.

Every time she thought of this, a wave of panic washed over her.

By the light of the lanterns, she circled the courtyard of the Longevity Courtyard.

Once, it had been a riot of flowers, but now those flowers seemed to have lost their vitality, showing faint signs of withering.

She searched anxiously, not knowing what flowers Lin Chenxin liked.

Finally, in desperation, she simply dug up the roses at her feet.

She had never done such a thing before; either the thorns pricked her hands, or the mud on the ground annoyed her.

To make matters worse, the young master, even in his sleep, hadn’t forgotten to instruct her to dig up the flowers without breaking them.

She worked with gritted teeth, and soon her hands were filthy.

After finally digging out the flower, she took a few deep breaths, her eyes blazing with anger.

Lin Chenxin had better have a real solution.

Even though she had been careful, the flower roots were still broken.

That would have to do.

Looking at the mud on her hands, she frowned impatiently.

Wrapping the flower roots in a handkerchief, she hurried quickly to the Gentleman’s Courtyard.

She had worried about running into others along the way, but unexpectedly, there was no one, as if everyone had gone into hiding.

She never used to think this estate felt so empty, but now the emptiness made her heart race.

She held her breath and sped up.

When she reached the entrance of Junzi Courtyard, her eyes widened in shock. Her face pale, she stared at the locked gate ahead and the iron mesh on the walls.

The flowers dropped from her hands, splashing mud on the ground.

She stumbled back, staring in disbelief at what she saw.

She’d been cooped up in Changsheng Courtyard for days, had no idea Junzi Courtyard had become like this.

Panic hit her. The fear she’d been holding back suddenly broke loose and flooded over.

What should I do?

What should I do...

She staggered, her body swaying unsteadily.

—

In the cold, lonely backyard, Chen Gujun sat on the well, his white hair spilling to the ground.

In the dim light, his hands on the well rim looked like bare bones. He raised his head, his eyes clouded with a foggy haze, staring blankly at the sky past the high walls.

“Lin Chenxin, the seeds have sprouted.”

He opened his mouth, letting out a hoarse voice.

Where his hair touched the ground, a sparse ring of bright green sprouts had grown around the well rim.