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After the swing disperses, the hazy moon casts its glow over the courtyard. The carved railings stand silent as the wind sweeps away the remnants of apricot blossoms overnight.
In the Hall of Bright Sun, spring garments are donned; the golden threads glisten, newly dried. Do not trust the morning chill—tomorrow, before the flowers, one may dance to test their bloom.
“Puff!” With a single breath, the candles were extinguished. Her colleagues around her laughed and shouted, “Huayue, make a wish! Hurry, make a wish!” Huayue clasped her hands together, muttering fervently: “I wish to marry a rich man! A rich man! A rich man!”
Her best friend, Zhou, flicked her forehead with an exasperated sigh. “Huayue, can’t you have a little more ambition? You’re only twenty years old! Is that all you want—to marry someone wealthy? How pitiful!” She paused, then added with mock solemnity, “If you’re going to wish for marriage, at least aim for someone rich and powerful. Now that’s what I call a proper wish.”
Huayue winced. “That really hurt, you know.”
Zhou flicked her again, harder this time. “Remember: if you’re going to marry, marry someone rich and powerful!”
Karma works fast, doesn’t it? Though Huayue was admittedly obsessed with wealth, she figured her sins were minor—petty greed at most. Surely they weren’t grave enough to warrant such swift retribution?
A jagged bolt of purple lightning tore through the darkened sky like a gaping wound. The wind howled, driving sheets of rain against the windows, pelting the glass with sharp, staccato beats. Oh, the irony. Earlier that day, when her colleagues had pooled money to celebrate her birthday, the weather had been warm and sunny, brimming with springtime cheer. But the moment she started her shift in the afternoon, a violent storm erupted, as though the heavens themselves were collapsing. By the time her night-shift colleagues arrived to relieve her, the downpour showed no signs of abating. Peering outside at the relentless rain, she sighed. If she walked home now, she’d be drenched—a soggy mess once again.
Should she spend a yuan on a pedicab ride home? To spend or not to spend? That was the question. A fierce internal debate raged within her. One yuan… one yuan could buy a steaming bowl of spicy and sour shredded pork noodles, half a box of cookies, or even a kilo of mangoes. There were so many things one yuan could do. In the end, she decided to brave the rain and run home—it wasn’t far.
Grabbing a thick stack of newspapers from the nurses’ station, she plopped them onto her head and dashed into the torrential rain. The deluge was biblical—as if invisible hands were dumping buckets of water on her from every direction. Within seconds, she was soaked to the bone. Leaping over a puddle in three hurried strides, she suddenly heard the shrill screech of brakes. A sleek black car had come to a halt less than a meter behind her. Squinting through the rain, she noted the absence of engine noise—this was clearly a luxury vehicle. Sure enough, it was a brand-new Chevrolet. Ah… a rich man! Her eyes gleamed. Not just any rich man, but one driving a shiny new Chevrolet. This was fate—her prince had arrived!
The rear window rolled down, revealing a handsome face. “Miss, are you alright?” His deep, velvety voice sent shivers down her spine. It was as if she could hear the flutter of angelic wings in the air, or the soft unfurling of roses in the flowerbeds behind her. Her heart raced wildly—thump, thump, thump. A prince! A real-life prince riding in a gleaming black Chevrolet! The rain fell in cascading sheets, turning the scene into something straight out of a romantic movie. Pushing her drenched hair out of her face, she flashed him a sweet smile. “I’m fine…”
But before she could fully display her charming dimples, a hand reached out from behind her, pulling her under a large black umbrella that shielded her from the romantic rain. Turning around, she glared daggers. “Three-fifty, what are you doing here?”
She should’ve known. First, the storm on her twentieth birthday. Then, just as her bedraggled self encountered a princely figure in a luxurious car, along came him —the perpetual thorn in her side. Spotting his handsome face only fueled her irritation. “What are you doing here, you punk?”
He replied nonchalantly, “This is a hospital—I’m here to visit a patient.” She turned away, watching helplessly as the gleaming black Chevrolet disappeared through the hospital gates. Her—prince! Ugh…
Fuming, she glared at the young man before her. Tsk! Every time she saw him, he brought nothing but bad vibes. He was like a jinx. Whenever he showed up, the entire hospital seemed to descend into chaos. Yet, strangely, the nurses in her department adored him. They flocked to chat with him whenever possible. And he, ever the charmer, loved to join in the fun. After their shifts ended, he’d treat them to ice cream, rice noodles, melons—anything to win their favor. So every time he appeared, everyone grew inexplicably cheerful, eager to clock out early.
Seeing her glare daggers at him as if trying to bore two transparent holes through his body, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why do you look at me like we’re sworn enemies?” She clenched her teeth. Of course they were sworn enemies—at least in her mind. Their feud began the day he borrowed three yuan and fifty cents from her.
It had been a sweltering afternoon. By the time she arrived at the hospital, she was already drenched in sweat. The sun blazed mercilessly, sapping every last drop of moisture from her body. Parched and desperate, she succumbed to temptation and indulged in a rare extravagance: a bottle of soda from the small shop next to the hospital. Gulping down half the bottle in one go, she felt a cool wave wash over her parched throat. Savoring the remaining sips, she mused wistfully, “Three mao really is worth three mao…” Compared to the five-fen herbal tea, this soda was refreshingly cool and invigorating. Perhaps karma punished her fleeting indulgence, for just then, a voice rang out behind her: “Excuse me, miss, could you lend me three yuan and fifty cents?”
To be honest, her first impression of “Three-fifty” wasn’t bad at all. What was that phrase people used? Tall, dark, and handsome—he certainly fit the bill. Standing tall and elegant, he exuded charm. When he smiled, his obsidian eyes sparkled like starlight, and his dazzling white teeth made his grin radiant. “I’m so sorry,” he said smoothly, “but I bought a pack of cigarettes and realized I didn’t bring any money.”
She nearly collapsed on the spot. Such a handsome, charismatic man—broke? What a waste of good looks! Clearly, some malevolent force had clouded her judgment that day, because she found herself lending him three yuan and fifty cents. Every time she recalled that moment, she seethed with regret. Normally vigilant and frugal (some might say stingy), she prided herself on her thriftiness. Yet somehow, she’d fallen victim to his charm.
The consequences of her ill-advised generosity became apparent later that afternoon when, mid-shift, Three-fifty casually appeared at the doorway of the nurses’ station, causing quite a stir. Imagine it—a group of vivacious young nurses (or, as she begrudgingly admitted, beautiful ones) suddenly confronted with a tall, handsome stranger. Even though she loathed him, she had to admit he wasn’t unattractive. Naturally, the nurses were dazzled. Finally, Zhou stepped forward and asked, “Sir, may we help you?”
He smiled, his grin as bright as the sun outside. “Is there a Miss Fang Huayue here?”
Zhou pressed on, undeterred. “What do you want with Fang Huayue?”
“I borrowed three yuan and fifty cents from her at noon today, and I’ve come to return it.”
Those words! Those cursed words sealed her doom. From that moment on, rumors spread throughout the hospital about Jiangshan General Hospital’s “Porcelain Beauty”—a nickname earned for her penny-pinching ways. While she didn’t mind the moniker (it sounded better than “iron rooster,” after all), her reputation was ruined. The hospital’s famously frugal Porcelain Beauty had been bested by a handsome stranger who shattered her iron-clad resolve. All because she’d been bewitched by his looks. Bewitched! There was no other explanation for why she’d lent such a princely sum—three yuan and fifty cents—to a complete stranger.
Amidst her colleagues’ snickers, she snatched the money from his hand and snapped, “You can leave now!”
But he didn’t take the hint. “Thank you, Miss Fang. I was terribly embarrassed earlier. To make it up to you, may I treat you to shaved ice after your shift?”
She rolled her eyes. “Not interested.”
Zhou, ever the mischief-maker, chimed in, “Our Huayue saved you from a predicament. Is shaved ice really enough? If you’re inviting her, it has to be Western cuisine!”
Hmph! Let him think twice before flirting with her. Lending him three yuan and fifty cents had already been a colossal mistake—she wouldn’t let him compound it. Accepting his invitation would only invite ridicule from her colleagues, who’d laugh at her for falling for the charms of a broke pretty boy. Forget Western cuisine—even Eastern cuisine held no allure for her.
Yet this pest clung to her like sticky tape, showing up at the nurses’ station every few days. At least his good looks had one advantage—they made him hard to dislike. No matter who looked at his handsome, boyish face, they couldn’t stay mad. And he knew exactly how to charm the ladies, doling out small favors and treating them to snacks. Before long, he’d won over the entire department. Every time he arrived, someone would inevitably call out, “Huayue! Huayue! Three-fifty’s here again!”
The nickname stuck—a constant reminder of her tarnished reputation. Thanks to him, her carefully cultivated image lay in ruins. Hmph!
Take today, for instance. Here he was again, swaggering in with an umbrella, pretending to be her knight in shining armor. Who did he think he was? Xu Xian? Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t Bai Suzhen, ready to fall head over heels. If anything, she wished she were a snake demon, so she could sink her fangs into him and poison him thoroughly, ensuring he’d never dare show his face again. Thankfully, she was off duty now and didn’t have to endure her colleagues’ teasing. Still, she shot him her trademark glare. “You seem awfully free. Coming to our hospital all the time—what do you even do for a living? Don’t you have a job?”
He replied breezily, “I’m in the navy—but my ship’s undergoing repairs right now. Everyone’s on vacation.”
It was said that the military’s benefits were excellent, and one still received full pay during leave. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy but quickly snapped back to her usual irritable self. “Why do you come to our hospital every day during your vacation? Are you sick or something?”
He didn’t seem offended, though his smile now carried a faint trace of melancholy. “I almost wish it were me who was sick.” His smile, which usually resembled sunlight, seemed momentarily shadowed by clouds. Without thinking, she asked, “Is it a family member? Are they very ill?” He nodded slightly, and she suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for him. The suffering of loved ones often cut deeper than one’s own pain—watching someone dear endure hardship while feeling powerless was an unbearable weight. Outside the umbrella, the rain continued to pour in torrents, splashing against the ground and forming countless bubbles. Beneath the umbrella, silence reigned.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, fumbling for words of comfort. “Don’t be sad. Heaven always protects the virtuous.”
He quickly brightened. “Thank you. The experts say the surgery went well, and so far, everything looks promising with no signs of recurrence.” Then, abruptly, he asked, “With such heavy rain, why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”
She huffed indignantly, “Who knows what nonsense the heavens are up to today!” Before her words faded, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap so close it made her eardrums ring.
Quick as a flash, he shouted, “Be careful!”
She stumbled as he yanked her aside. Behind them, a massive branch crashed down from a nearby tree, its burnt smell wafting through the air. The lightning had struck terrifyingly close—if it had been any nearer, she didn’t dare imagine. Her heart raced wildly, and it took her a moment to catch her breath. Trembling, she muttered, “I really shouldn’t talk nonsense anymore, or I’ll get struck by lightning.” He chuckled softly, his breath tickling her ear, and only then did she realize she was still tightly encircled in his arms. He smelled of pleasant aftershave mingled with the subtle aroma of tobacco—a manly scent she’d never experienced so vividly before. A hundred rabbits seemed to leap in her chest, and her face flushed red as she wriggled free. Realizing their proximity, he let go awkwardly.
Feeling somewhat flustered, she mumbled, “I should head home.”
Without hesitation, he handed her the umbrella. “Here, take this. If you walk back in this rain, you’ll definitely catch a cold.”
Her irritation returned. “Hey! It’s my birthday today! Stop cursing me, will you?”
His eyes lit up. “Today’s your birthday? Let me treat you to longevity noodles—is that okay?”
She blurted out reflexively, “Of course not!”
He scratched his nose sheepishly. “Well, that saves me five yuan then.”
Hmph! This punk was insincere, always doling out small favors to win people over. Why should she care about saving him money? But a mischievous thought crossed her mind, and she smiled sweetly. “If I’m eating, I want egg and shredded pork noodles.”
The bowl of noodles topped with a perfectly poached egg was indeed delicious. She took a deep, satisfied breath. “Mmm, so fragrant!” Triumphantly, she declared, “I’ve tried every noodle shop within a five-kilometer radius, and this place has the most flavorful shredded pork, the thickest noodles, and the best value for money!”
True enough, the hearty serving filled her stomach, lifting her spirits. Even the weather seemed to cooperate—the rain had softened to a drizzle, fine as mist, weaving through the air like ethereal smoke. The cobblestone street glistened wetly under the dim glow of lamplight, and the faint scent of orchids lingered in the air, sold by vendors along the roadside. He paused to buy her a bunch, and she couldn’t help but beam with delight, cradling the flowers and inhaling their delicate fragrance. “So lovely!” She couldn’t resist asking, “How much are they?”
He replied casually, “Cheap—only ten cents.” She grinned, “Such extravagance! Don’t bother next time.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and she shot him another playful glare. “Ten cents can buy a lot of things, you know.” He murmured softly, “If ten cents can buy your happiness, it’s worth it.” She couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling. The streetlights illuminated his hair, dotted with tiny raindrops like scattered stars, while his eyes shimmered with their own light.
She began to speak, almost without realizing it. “My mother worked so hard to raise me and my sister. I know how precious every penny is—it’s blood and sweat. She stretched every coin as far as it could go. Now that my sister is married and I’ve graduated from nursing school, I have a dream. I want to save enough money someday to buy a house—with a little courtyard where my mother can sit in the sun and grow flowers, instead of being cramped in our damp, tiny apartment where sunlight only reaches the balcony for three hours a day.”
She didn’t know what had come over her. These thoughts had always been tucked away in her heart, shared with no one, yet here she was telling him. But he listened so kindly, like the perfect confidant, drawing her words out effortlessly. She found herself talking animatedly—sharing hospital anecdotes, funny stories about colleagues, and even trivial details about her life at home. He listened intently, his interest unwavering. Finally, she laughed self-consciously. “Oh! Three-fifty, I don’t even know your real name yet.”
He chuckled too, then extended his hand solemnly. “Miss Fang, pleased to meet you. I’m Zhuo Zheng. ‘Zhuo’ as in excellence, and ‘Zheng’ as in normal.” Smiling, she shook his hand. “An excellent and normal gentleman—pleased to meet you.” After a pause, she asked, “You’re surnamed Zhuo? That’s quite unique.”
A shadow briefly crossed his face. “Actually, I’m not really surnamed Zhuo. I grew up in an orphanage, and my adoptive mother’s surname is Zhuo. Recently… recently, I met my biological parents. My birth mother’s surname is Ren. Perhaps I should take her surname. As for my father…” His voice softened. “…he’ll never publicly acknowledge me.”
Her heart ached at his admission. Sympathy welled up inside her—they were both children without fathers, though hers had passed away early, while his was unknown. Impulsively, she asked, “Do you hate your father?”
He hesitated, then spoke slowly. “I did. Of course, I hated him—especially for all the suffering he caused my mother. But when I finally met him, I couldn’t stay angry. He’s just a lonely man who’s lost so much more than he’s ever had.” His gaze drifted to the fragrant orchids in her arms. “Every time I see him wandering alone among those flowers, I feel like his sorrow runs deeper than anyone realizes.”
There was something achingly poignant about his demeanor—a mix of sadness and compassion—that stirred a tender ache in her heart. Trying to lighten the mood, she changed the subject. “Do you have lots of orchids at home? Is your family in the flower business?”
He blinked, then burst into laughter. “Yes, you could say my family sells flowers.” His smile dispelled the lingering gloom, restoring his radiant charm.
They continued walking down the street, the yellowish glow of the streetlights casting the drizzle into shimmering threads of glass. The orchids in her arms exuded a soft, lingering fragrance, carried gently by the breeze. Though the air held a hint of cool moisture, it wasn’t unpleasant. Unconsciously, he murmured, “Rain that wets your clothes but doesn’t chill, wind that brushes your face but isn’t cold.”
She glanced around. “There aren’t any apricot blossoms or willows here.”
He laughed heartily. “Then it’s ‘rain that wets your clothes with orchid fragrance, wind that brushes your face from electric poles.’”
Amused, she eyed the utility poles lining the street and couldn’t help but giggle.
Suddenly, he said, “When’s your next day off? I’ll take you somewhere special—there are apricot blossoms and willow trees.”
She replied matter-of-factly, “There are apricot blossoms and willows in the park.”
Standing beneath the lamplight, surrounded by falling rain, he seemed to shine brilliantly. “It’s different. Parks only have a few trees, but there, the entire embankment is covered with apricots and willows. The apricot blossoms look like clouds and rosy dawn, while the willows drape gracefully like jade. When you look up, all you see is a canopy of pink petals and green branches stretching endlessly—it’s like stepping into a fairyland.”
Her curiosity piqued, she murmured, “How could Wuchi have such a beautiful place?”
He smiled enigmatically. “Even Wuchi has its hidden paradises.”
Only then did she realize he wasn’t just good at handing out small favors—he was also quick-witted and charming, explaining why he’d won over her colleagues so easily.
That evening, they talked endlessly, as if trying to cram a lifetime’s worth of conversation into one night. She recounted her childhood hardships—how her father had passed away when she was young, leaving her to help her mother manage household chores. Later, she worked part-time at a neighbor’s snack shop to earn tuition fees while studying, eventually graduating from nursing school.
In turn, he shared his own struggles—being bullied as a child and called names like “fatherless wild child.” He recalled fighting fiercely to defend himself and laughed lightly about it now. “I was fearless back then. Later, I studied hard, earned scholarships, and finally graduated. When I reunited with my mother, I didn’t tell her anything about my childhood. Every time she sees me, she feels guilty, as if she owes me something. I can’t bear to add to her pain. Besides, it’s all in the past.”
Yes, it was all in the past. Both of them had endured hardships—material and emotional—but they remained optimistic souls. With a lighthearted shrug, they moved on, finding clarity after the storm. Joyfully, she exclaimed, “The rain has stopped.”
The rain had truly stopped. The streetlights illuminated the power lines on either side, droplets of water clinging to them and falling intermittently with a soft “drip, drop.” Beneath the warm orange glow of the lamplight, their shadows stretched out, bathed in a faintly golden hue that softened everything around them. It was spring, after all, and the night breeze carried a gentle humidity. From the courtyard walls of nearby homes, new banana leaves unfurled, their tender green so vivid under the streetlight that it seemed almost liquid, ready to drip down at any moment. She paused, her face now hidden in the shadow cast by the familiar apartment building. “I’m here,” she said.
He felt a sudden pang of melancholy. “So soon?”
Yes, so soon. Behind her was the narrow, stuffy stairwell she knew so well. Hiding her face in the shadows, she murmured, “Goodbye.” He echoed softly, “Goodbye.” She had already stepped into the stairwell when he suddenly hurried forward a few steps. “When is your day off? I’ll take you to see the apricot blossoms.”
“I don’t know yet,” she replied. “The hospital’s been in a special state these past couple of days.”
Without hesitation, he said, “Then I’ll wait for you tomorrow. I visit the hospital every day anyway to see my patient.”
A wave of unexpected joy bubbled up inside her. The cramped, suffocating staircase suddenly felt brighter, more spacious. Her steps grew lighter as she climbed upward. Strange how an enemy could become a friend—it felt unexpectedly nice.
True to his word, he waited for her every day after her shift ended. Precisely at the time of the handover, there he was, cheerfully appearing with various snacks—sometimes cold jelly, sometimes small cakes, or sweet pastries. That evening, he treated her to shrimp dumplings. Unable to resist, she asked, “How much do you earn in a month?”
His expression changed as if scalded, and she quickly handed him some tea. After a moment, he answered honestly, “My monthly salary is three hundred seventy-six yuan. Why do you ask?”
No wonder—he earned quite well. She sighed, “I’ve seen how much you spend on others every day, about seven or eight yuan. You’re so extravagant.”
No one had ever managed his finances before. His adoptive mother had taken him in when he was already ten years old, treating him like a little adult because he’d matured early. Later, when he reunited with his biological parents, the world seemed to flip upside down. His birth mother felt an indescribable guilt toward him, and being as fragile as a tendril flower, she relied on him for decisions. As for his birth father… he seemed to feel indebted to him, indulging him with an almost excessive kindness. But now, hearing her half-teasing, half-scolding tone, his heart skipped a beat. It was as though someone were brushing him lightly with a feather—both pleasant and unsettling, leaving him with an itch he couldn’t scratch.
Softly, he said, “Thank you.”
She blinked. “For what?” Her usual glare returned. “You don’t even plan your own money. What will you do without savings? I’m only reminding you because I consider you a friend.”
He chuckled softly. The shrimp dumpling wrappers were semi-transparent, revealing the pink shrimp and vibrant green vegetables inside. Dipping one into vinegar, he savored its sweetness. She considered him a friend… he would strive to take their relationship further.
________________________________________
The next day was chaotic—patients flooded in, and several colleagues had been reassigned to the private ward, leaving them short-handed. A surgery dragged on until four in the afternoon, and by then, her stomach was growling fiercely. After her shift, she entered the break room and nearly swooned at the sight of small cakes. Zhou, quick to speak, teased, “Three-fifty bought those. He waited for you all afternoon but had to leave suddenly tonight for duty.”
“Oh no,” she sighed melodramatically, though her eyes sparkled as she reached for a cake. “What bad luck! Though, if there are cakes to eat, who cares about seeing his handsome face? Still, he’s charming to talk to. But oh, that Chevrolet prince—now that’s who I’d rather meet!” She munched enthusiastically while lamenting the missed opportunity with the prince from the other day. If only Three-fifty hadn’t interrupted, she might have had a romantic beginning with him.
Zhou gasped. “Since when did you find him interesting?”
Brushing crumbs from her hands, she shrugged. “Just recently. Turns out he’s actually pretty fun once you get to know him. Too bad he’s not the Chevrolet prince.”
At the mention of the prince, Zhou’s eyes lit up. “This morning, I walked past the garden outside the private ward and saw two or three young men standing in the corridor talking. They were all strikingly handsome—obviously rich or noble. Those aristocratic sons make movie stars look plain!”
She polished off another cake, offering sage advice in her most seasoned fangirl tone. “If you want to meet them, it’s simple. Carry a tray of medicine, ‘accidentally’ drop it with a loud clatter, and they’ll surely help you pick it up. Isn’t that how it always goes in movies?”
Zhou smacked her playfully. “Dream on! That’s the private ward . It’s so secure, not even a fly can get in. How would you manage to approach the prince unless you transformed into a butterfly and flew in?” Sighing wistfully, she added, “If only I could be transferred to the private ward…”
Choking on her cake, Huayue managed to mutter, “Dream… dream on!”
________________________________________
It wasn’t a dream. Pinching her thigh hard enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath, Huayue confirmed it: this was real. The director had just announced her transfer to the private ward. Oh heavens—the private ward! Her heart raced like five hundred rabbits bounding wildly within her chest.
Though assigned to peripheral duties, on her very first day, she encountered the Chevrolet prince face-to-face. Walking down the corridor, she recognized him instantly—his handsome features unmistakable. He seemed to recognize her too, nodding politely with a smile. Her knees nearly buckled. Did he remember her? Such an unforgettable prince!
Sure enough, his deep, velvety voice rang out again. “Miss, are you alright from the other day?”
Beaming, she squinted her eyes into crescents. “Fine, fine!” Finally, she successfully showcased her adorable dimples. With impeccable manners, he extended his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. My surname is Mu, Mu Shiyang. Secretary of the First Office at Shuangqiao Official Residence.” Blissful euphoria washed over her—she now knew the prince’s name, his title, and had shaken his hand. Smiling radiantly, she replied, “I’m Fang Huayue, a nurse in the hematology department at Jiangshan General Hospital, recently transferred to the private ward.”
The Chevrolet prince’s smile was utterly enchanting. His next words nearly made her faint from happiness. “May I have the honor of inviting Miss Fang for coffee after your shift?”
Honor! What an honor!
Today was truly blessed. First, her transfer to the private ward, then a chance encounter with the Chevrolet prince, and finally, his invitation for coffee. Just after turning twenty, wave upon wave of fortune crashed over her. She felt as if she were drowning in bliss.
The only downside? The Chevrolet prince hadn’t come alone. He brought two companions—two glaring 2000-watt lightbulbs. What was he thinking? Mu Shiyang introduced them: one named Huo Mingyou, the other Li Hanyan. Both were equally distinguished, matching the prince’s elegance. For the sake of three princes, she decided not to complain.
Still, something about these three felt odd. Their curious gazes held a hint of intrigue, though they quickly masked it once they noticed her noticing. Mu Shiyang courteously recommended the restaurant’s signature dessert—cherry pudding.
It was delicious, fragrant, sweet, cool, and smooth. As she savored it, Huo Mingyou suggested raspberry ice cream, and Li Hanyan proposed Portuguese egg tarts. She began to roll her eyes. Did they think she was a pig? Sensing her irritation, Mu Shiyang smiled apologetically. “Forgive us. We just find your appetite delightful. Eating with you makes us feel hungry too.”
What did these pampered young men take her for—a professional dining companion? Still, she couldn’t resist replying, “Actually, a healthy appetite is the most important thing. Food is life itself; nearly all our energy comes from what we eat. Look at you three big men—your appetites aren’t even as good as mine!”
Huo Mingyou grinned. “We had afternoon tea with Mr. X earlier, so we’re not hungry yet.”
If they weren’t hungry, why bring her to such an expensive Western restaurant? Wait—what did he just say? Afternoon tea with “Mr. X”? She almost forgot: these three gentlemen were all from prominent families, holding prestigious positions. Sighing, she remarked, “I imagine eating alongside such influential figures must feel like chewing wax, no matter how delicious the food.”
But working in the private ward had its perks. Not only could she encounter dashing young nobles, but also beauties—real beauties!
And indeed, there she was—a true beauty, barely seventeen or eighteen, with bright eyes and a radiant smile. Even in a simple short qipao, she exuded charm. Watching her glance around the courtyard, her gaze shimmered like starlight. Unable to resist, Huayue asked, “Miss, may I assist you with something?”
The beauty’s smile preceded her words, making her instantly endearing. “Oh, thank you. I’ve already spotted my friend.” Turning her head, she saw Mu Shiyang approaching from the corridor. The young woman beamed, linking arms with him affectionately. “I didn’t think you’d come today,” Mu Shiyang said. She replied, “Mother insisted I visit.” Their eyes met, filled with unmistakable affection.
Standing together, they were a vision of perfection—like celestial beings. Truly, a match made in heaven. Huayue sighed inwardly. So much for her fantasies about the Chevrolet prince. Another unrequited crush, doomed to fade away.
As she bent to organize cotton swabs in her medicine tray, Mu Shiyang noticed her. “Miss Fang.” She looked up, flashing her signature dimpled smile. Though the prince was lost to her, this beautiful young woman remained a sight to behold. Mu Shiyang introduced them: “This is Miss Murong. And this is Miss Fang Huayue.”
The surname sent a jolt through her. But Miss Murong’s warm demeanor put her at ease. “Ah, Sister Fang, hello!” There was no trace of arrogance in her voice—she addressed her as “sister” without hesitation. Yet, why did those dark, mischievous eyes keep sizing her up, her smile resembling that of a sly kitten who’d just stolen cream?
This young lady was certainly friendly—but why did her warmth carry a whiff of conspiracy?
In short, these aristocratic families were all a little strange. Though the private ward was strict and demanding, the work itself was relatively easy. Each shift lasted only four hours. On this particular day, just after handing over her duties, she stepped out into the corridor and encountered a familiar figure.
She blurted out without thinking, “Zhuo Zheng!”
He turned around, startled to see her. “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking equally surprised.
She mirrored his confusion. “What about you? Why are you here?”
After a brief pause, he replied, “I’m here with my superior.”
She pressed further, “Are you leaving soon? I’ve been transferred to the private ward.”
He smacked his forehead, as if trying to process her words. “Wait—what? You’ve been transferred here? Since when?”
His reaction was odd, almost as if he didn’t want to see her here. Hmph! As if she cared to see him either. Persistent pest—he even managed to show up in the private ward after her transfer. Rolling her eyes at him, she said, “I’ve been here since the day you returned to duty.”
He froze again, then asked, “Are you off work now? I need to talk to you.” She snickered, “You look so serious right now—it makes me laugh.” But he laughed too, leading her into a nearby lounge.
It was strange—once they were alone together, she felt an odd tension. Perhaps it was because he kept staring at her. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His response was disarmingly honest. “Because I think you’re beautiful.”
Even with her thick skin, she couldn’t help but blush. How infuriating—he had the power to make her blush! He continued, “While I was gone, did anyone give you trouble?”
No one had given her trouble, but what was with that expression of his? It was tender, almost affectionate.
The atmosphere grew increasingly strange. Why was he standing so close? So close that her heart began to race, her pulse quickened, and her breathing became shallow. Suddenly, she jumped up from her chair, accidentally bumping her forehead against his chin. Rubbing her temple, she groaned, “Ow! That hurts!”
Just then, the inner door opened, and someone walked in. It was none other than Miss Murong. Upon seeing Zhuo Zheng, she threw her arms around him, beaming with joy. “You’re finally back! If you hadn’t come soon, I would’ve called you.” Her attachment was unmistakable. Zhuo Zheng wrapped his arm around her waist, his face soft with indulgence. “With so many people fussing over you, why do you still need me?”
Miss Murong pouted. “What can they do? You know that.”
What was going on with this Miss Murong? Just days ago, she’d been all over Mu Shiyang, and now she was clinging to Zhuo Zheng. As for Mu Shiyang—well, she didn’t care about him anymore. After all, she valued friendship over romance. Mu Shiyang was “romance,” which she could dismiss easily. But Zhuo Zheng was “friendship,” and she couldn’t stand by and watch him fall into trouble.
Miss Murong tugged on Zhuo Zheng’s arm. “Father has asked about you several times. He wants to see you.”
Zhuo Zheng glanced at her, hesitating. Miss Murong gave him a gentle push. “Go on—you’ll be fine. I’ll take care of Sister Fang. No one will eat her up.”
“Alright,” Zhuo Zheng said reluctantly. Turning to her, he added softly, “I’ll go see Mr. Murong first. I’ll explain everything later.”
Explain? What more could he possibly have to say? For some reason, she felt a pang of unease. Was it resentment toward this young lady for stealing away the Chevrolet prince—and not even appreciating him? Toying with two men at once! What an angelic face paired with a devilish heart.
But the angelic face was all smiles. “Sister Fang, would you like to join me for tea?”
“I’m in a hurry to go grocery shopping.”
The angel sighed wistfully. “Grocery shopping must be so much fun.”
Indeed, how could this pampered young lady understand the thrill of haggling over every penny? Enthusiastically, she launched into an explanation: “Let me tell you, grocery shopping is an art. First, you assess the quality of the produce. Then comes the negotiation—stay calm, offer a low price, and proceed step by step…” She hadn’t even finished outlining her bargaining strategies when a nurse knocked on the door. “Miss Murong, there’s a call for you.”
The angel reluctantly left to answer the phone but not before casting a longing glance back. “Sister Fang, go buy your groceries for now. We’ll talk about your bargaining secrets another time!”
This young lady certainly had a quirky charm. Leaving the lounge, she crossed the courtyard when suddenly, a steady, authoritative voice called out: “Miss Fang, please wait.”
It was an older man, vaguely familiar. His piercing gaze swept over her, sending a shiver down her spine. Despite his imposing presence, he spoke politely. “My surname is Lei. May I ask Miss Fang to accompany me? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Though his tone was courteous, his demeanor suggested importance. She, Fang Huayue, had never done anything wrong in her life—why should she fear? With feigned confidence, she followed him through winding corridors to a place she’d never been before. The room resembled an extravagant suite, its velvet curtains drawn, the carpet plush enough to sink an inch into with each step. Everywhere, fresh flowers and fruit adorned the space. Behind the sofa stood an ornate screen carved from rosewood, bathed in a warm golden glow. Such opulence seemed straight out of a movie set—it was hard to believe they were still in a hospital.
Mr. Lei sat down on the sofa and gestured for her to do the same. “Miss Fang, please sit.”
It dawned on her who he was—why his face seemed familiar. This was Lei Shaogong, a prominent political figure. No wonder he carried such authority. But judging by his demeanor, his intentions weren’t friendly. As expected, he began bluntly: “Miss Fang, I apologize, but we must ask you to distance yourself from Zhuo Zheng.”
Distance herself from Zhuo Zheng? She found it amusing. This was a line straight out of a clichéd romance novel. Predictably, he continued: “Zhuo Zheng has a bright future ahead of him. In my opinion, your relationship with him is inappropriate.”
How disappointing. Could he not come up with something more original? Why was he asking her to leave Zhuo Zheng? They were merely friends. Besides, why would Zhuo Zheng warrant such a high-ranking official to intervene?
Ah-ha! It all made sense now. Zhuo Zheng and Miss Murong’s relationship must already be public knowledge. From what she’d seen earlier, Mr. Murong likely approved of Zhuo Zheng as a potential son-in-law. Hence, this powerful figure had been sent to break them apart—even though she and Zhuo Zheng weren’t exactly a couple. Still, she resented their arrogance. Miss Murong, juggling two men, had the audacity to order her to “leave Zhuo Zheng”? Hah! Dream on!
Calmly, she replied, “Mr. Lei, your request is impossible. Why don’t you ask Zhuo Zheng himself whether he’s willing to leave me?” Though they were just friends, she couldn’t stand idly by while he fell victim to a femme fatale. At least this would let them know that Miss Murong wasn’t as stable as they thought.
Mr. Lei remained unfazed. “Miss Fang, surely you realize we’re not here to beg.”
Leaning forward slightly, she studied the imposing politician with composure. “Minister Lei, I have no intention of accepting any threats.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. “Young lady, you’ve got guts. Name your price.”
Of course! The classic check-writing scene—a staple in novels and films. Watching him pull out his checkbook, she nearly burst into laughter. How absurd—she never imagined she’d experience this moment herself. Taking the flimsy piece of paper, she examined the amount written on it: five hundred thousand yuan. Generous indeed. Slowly, she said, “Five hundred thousand may not be a large sum for you or for me. But to buy your peace of conscience, it’s far too cheap. And to buy my love? Also too cheap. So save it.” With a puff of breath, she sent the check fluttering onto the carpet.
Seeing the fleeting surprise in Lei Shaogong’s eyes, she couldn’t help but feel triumphant. Ever since watching Autumn Song, she’d memorized this line perfectly. Now, finally, she had the chance to use it. He spoke slowly, “Miss Fang, our investigation shows that you have a great fondness for money.”
The subtext was clear—they thought her materialistic. True, she loved money. But her style of materialism was unique. Meeting his gaze calmly, she said, “Yes, I do love money. But I wouldn’t sell my dignity, my feelings, or my integrity for it.”
Lei Shaogong smiled. “Don’t think playing the long game will work. If Zhuo Zheng insists on staying with you, he risks losing everything. In the end, you’ll be left with nothing.”
Of course—if he failed to marry Miss Murong, the losses would be catastrophic. Smiling slyly, she replied, “Minister Lei, whether Zhuo Zheng persists is up to him. If he chooses to marry Miss Murong, that’s his decision. If he gives up being Mr. Murong’s son-in-law for my sake, that’s also his choice. You can’t control his decisions.”
Why did Minister Lei suddenly look so strange? Abruptly, he asked, “He wants to marry Miss Murong?”
“Yes,” she said. “Isn’t that why you brought me here—to threaten and bribe me?”
The expression on his face was indescribable—caught somewhere between laughter and exasperation. Regardless, it looked odd. But she had said all she needed to say. After a moment’s thought, she added one more pointed remark: “As for your Miss Murong, teach her first how to cherish others. She shouldn’t bully people by virtue of her status or play with two men at once. Though Zhuo Zheng earns only 376 yuan a month, he’s no less of a man than Mr. Mu Shiyang, who rose to prominence so young. Her behavior is an insult to both of them.”
His expression grew even more curious. “How do you know Zhuo Zheng’s monthly salary?”
She lifted her chin proudly. “He told me.”
His face was half-hidden in the shadow of the curtains, making his expression difficult to read, but it still seemed strange. He remarked, “376 yuan... that’s not a small amount.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “By ordinary standards, it’s quite decent. But I’ve seen him spend money recklessly without any planning. I doubt he saves much over the course of a year. Still, he’s perfect material for a wealthy family’s son-in-law. If he marries Miss Murong, he won’t need to worry about supporting a family since the Muro——”
Suddenly, she heard a faint chuckle from behind the screen. She turned her head instinctively. Was someone hiding there? Lei Shaogong cleared his throat and began, “Miss Fang, I must admit…” But before he could finish, the door was pushed open forcefully. It was Zhuo Zheng, his face flushed with anger, looking like a provoked lion.
“Father…” he blurted out.
Her eyes widened in shock. What was going on? Father? She instinctively turned to look at Lei Shaogong, who stood up calmly and addressed Zhuo Zheng with composure. “What is it, Xiao Zhuo?”
Her mind was spinning. Zhuo Zheng, however, quickly regained his composure. “I’m sorry, Uncle Lei,” he said, though his voice still carried traces of suppressed rage. “Please don’t interfere in my relationship with her. No one can stop me from loving her.”
She felt dizzy. Dizzy! He had just said he loved her. Let her process this for a moment. So touching! This was the first time anyone had confessed their feelings so directly, and her vanity was thoroughly satisfied. Yes, satisfied. She hadn’t expected him to show such determination—not caring about becoming a wealthy family’s son-in-law. Despite his usual carefree demeanor, he displayed remarkable resolve when it mattered most, embodying true masculinity. Before she could praise him, he politely took her hand and said, “Uncle Lei, Miss Fang and I have other matters to attend to. Excuse us.”
Wow! So cool! A dramatic rescue! All her efforts to defend him hadn’t been in vain. She never imagined that his stern expression could be so commanding. Though the phrase “overbearing” was often considered negative, he looked incredibly striking. He exuded an aura of authority, even surpassing the charm of the Chevrolet prince, leaving her in involuntary admiration.
They walked a long way before he suddenly stopped and asked, “What did they do to you?”
She smiled brightly. “What could they do? The usual threats and bribes.” Standing on her tiptoes, she patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry—I handled everything perfectly. They can’t touch us.”
Her last words made his eyes gleam with an unusual light. He smiled, radiant as sunlight. “Yes, they can’t touch us.”
Her cheeks began to burn as she recalled what he had just said. He had said he loved her… He held her hand and led her onward. “I’ll take you to see the apricot blossoms.”
Her mind was racing. The events of the past few hours were overwhelming, and she needed time to think. “I need to buy groceries—it’s getting dark.”
Suddenly irritated, he pulled her along. “You’re coming with me to see the apricot blossoms, whether you like it or not.”
Just as she was about to protest, she spotted Miss Murong and Mu Shiyang standing hand in hand in the courtyard. Miss Murong even stuck out her tongue at them teasingly.
Oh! So he was upset. No wonder he was acting so strangely. Better to end things quickly rather than prolong the pain. Seeing this scene now would help him come to his senses sooner. Perhaps his declaration of love was spurred by jealousy, which bruised her pride, but for now, she decided to prioritize his dignity—men valued their pride after all. Obediently, she followed him, comforting him as they walked. “Mu Shiyang comes from a distinguished family, and he’s a perfect match for Miss Murong. They’re truly suited for each other.”
He sighed deeply. “Yes, only Mu Shiyang could tolerate her temperament.”
Seizing the opportunity, she continued, “There are plenty of fish in the sea. While Miss Murong is beautiful, what matters most is finding someone who truly understands you—a meeting of hearts and minds.”
He glanced back at her, his gaze making her cheeks flush. Today, she felt unusually flustered, her heart pounding uncontrollably. Only after sitting in the car did she remember to ask, “How do you have a car?”
“It’s a vehicle my father sent for me,” he replied.
Suddenly, it dawned on her. “Ah! I forgot that Minister Lei is your father!” She couldn’t believe he was the illegitimate son of a powerful political figure. No wonder he’d said his identity could never be revealed. This complicated things—she hadn’t planned to get involved with someone of such high status.
He froze, then burst into laughter. “Who said Minister Lei is my father?” She retorted confidently, “You did! You called him ‘Father’ when you stormed in.”
He groaned. Had she misheard? Surely not… He stammered, “I thought Father was talking to you… Well, he might have been there too.” His expression was perplexed, but so was she. The afternoon sun warmed the bustling streets, cars flowing like water and horses like dragons. His hand still gripped hers tightly, patting it gently in reassurance. “It’s over now. From this day forward, I’ll protect you. Don’t be afraid.” She wasn’t scared, but his hand felt warm, and she didn’t want to pull away. Turning to smile at her again, he nearly made her lose her focus. She must have been rattled by that powerful figure earlier, her thoughts scattered.
Wuchi truly had its hidden paradises.
She held her breath. Spring waters lapped gently at the embankment, lush grass carpeting the winding path. The entire embankment was adorned with apricot blossoms and willow trees. Dozens—or perhaps hundreds—of apricot trees bloomed like clouds and rosy dawn, clusters of flowers resembling brocade or velvet cutouts. Willow branches swayed gracefully, brushing against them, their lower boughs skimming the water’s surface and creating ripples. In the slanting sunlight, everything appeared dreamlike and picturesque. Amidst this beauty, she felt dazed, gazing at the familiar mountain contours nearby. “Is this inside Qiyu Mountain Park?” she murmured.
He smiled. “Not far from it.”
She looked around. On all sides stretched willows and apricot blossoms, red as silk and green as jade, forming a canopy that blocked the sky. Gazing outward, endless trees and flowers met her eyes. She tried to orient herself. “We must still be in Qiyu Mountain Park, though I’ve never been to this part before.”
He shushed her quietly. “You’re clever. We sneaked in through a side gate without buying tickets. Don’t let anyone catch us.” She had clearly seen him exchange greetings with the gatekeeper. Rolling her eyes, she thought, Liar! He must know the gatekeeper, which is why we could slip in so easily.
He plucked a willow branch, stripped off its leaves, and fashioned it into a whistle. Blowing gently, he produced a clear, melodious sound. Eager to try, she volunteered, and he patiently guided her hands. “Remove the inner stem. There you go.” The willow whistle tasted slightly bitter, but when blown, its tone was bright and pleasant. Delighted, she joined him in playing, their whistles ringing out cheerfully like the songs of two happy birds amidst the willows and apricot blossoms.
Just as they were enjoying themselves, they heard a faint rumbling sound, like distant thunder. She stopped blowing, and so did he. “It’s the sound of hooves,” he said. She glared at him incredulously. “Nonsense! This isn’t a zoo. How could there be horses here…?”
Before she could finish, a rider emerged through the blossoms and willows. The horse moved slowly, brushing petals from the apricot trees like falling rain. The rider wore sleek black riding attire, accentuating a graceful figure, with a crimson scarf fluttering in the wind. As the rider reined in the horse nearby, she looked up to see an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Already in a setting that resembled a paradise, this woman possessed an ethereal beauty that defied age. She studied Fang Huayue intently before breaking into a radiant smile and dismounting to embrace Zhuo Zheng warmly. “How rare! You’ve brought a guest.”
A pang of jealousy surged within her, though she didn’t know why. Faced with such beauty, any woman would feel envious. This woman was undeniably blessed with unparalleled looks, enough to make any man’s heart race. Yet, something about her seemed oddly familiar.
Zhuo Zheng introduced her. “Mom, this is Fang Huayue.”
This revelation hit her like a thunderclap. Mouth agape, she stared at the breathtaking woman, who extended her hand. “Miss Fang, pleased to meet you. My son has always been mischievous—I hope you’ll forgive him.”
So this was his—mother!
On the way back, she remained silent, while he watched her anxiously. Finally, he spoke. “I’m sorry. I acted too hastily. I only wanted to protect you… That’s why I took you to meet my mother, hoping they’d understand how much you mean to me.”
She glared at him fiercely. “How pathetic! I wasn’t afraid—you even dared to challenge Minister Lei!”
He chuckled, amused yet frustrated. “Of course you weren’t afraid—you’re fearless. But you don’t understand…” His voice softened. “I was really worried about you. I knew they wouldn’t approve of us being together.”
A sweet warmth spread through her heart—this feeling was truly indescribable. Unable to resist, she confessed, “I’ll be honest with you—if Minister Lei had written five million instead of five hundred thousand, I might have actually been tempted.”
He froze for a moment, then gritted his teeth in mock anger. “Fang Huayue!”
She playfully patted his cheek. “Don’t get mad—it ruins your good looks. Just think about it: five million! We’d never earn that in a lifetime.” His irritated expression was so endearing that she couldn’t help teasing him further. “Your worth is five million—no movie star could ever compete with that.”
He was genuinely exasperated but quickly softened, breaking into a grin. “Fine, then I’ll confess something too.”
Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she looked at him. “Could it be that you’re secretly in love with Miss Murong, but she rejected you?”
He laughed, his voice as gentle as the spring night outside the car window. “How could I fall in love with Pan’er? She’s my younger sister.”
She blinked, processing this revelation. “She’s your… younger sister?” Suddenly, the pieces clicked together. “Wait—your younger sister ?! Then… that means… your father is…” She gasped audibly. “Where exactly did you take me earlier?”
He replied slowly, savoring her reaction. “Duan Mountain Residence.”
Oh no! So it was true… how could he possibly be the son of Murong Qingyi? Could she flee to the Sahara Desert and never return?
<If We Were Strangers - Fin.>
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