RITM - 50

Chapter 50: The Sixteen-Sided Mirror - Autumn Rain (3)

The rain continued throughout the entire night. Unbeknownst to anyone, the hottest days of summer had slipped away, the fragrance of summer flowers faded silently, and the withered leaves began to spiral down. Pushing open the window, one could only see the decay nearby and the distant skyscrapers of Beidao shrouded in sea mist. Those were matters of another world, unrelated to Xie Mao, who was now approaching his sixties. Gazing at the view of Gongzhou outside the window, he felt as if his vision had been soaked by the rain, involuntarily recalling the sorrowful imagery of flowers in Wen Tingyun’s poetry. He also remembered a woman who had loved reading Song dynasty lyrics. She disliked Tang poetry, finding its structure too rigid and filled with history, national grievances, and ambitions—all things she cared little for. Instead, she adored those闺怨 poems that feminists criticized, admiring how male poets from a thousand years ago could capture the delicate emotions of young women in just a few words, resonating deeply with her modern sensibilities. Back then, he had pitied her deeply, never imagining how things would turn out. Reflecting on the past now, he couldn’t help but admit that the saying “personality determines fate” was an undeniable truth. He retrieved a stack of old, carefully wrapped letters from the cabinet. The paper was sky blue, adorned with lavender patterns, as delicate and sensitive as their owner. Flipping through the pages, he read them over and over, the memories of the past falling like fine rain, soaking the windows of memory.

After more than ten minutes, a phone call summoned him downstairs. He placed the letters back into the drawer of his desk, stood up, and quietly closed the door behind him as he left. Unnoticed in the corner, Xie Xinqi sneaked in, pulled open the drawer, and began prying into her father’s secrets. She knew that he had been a playboy in his youth, so she assumed these letters likely contained some scandalous tales from that era. However, after reading through the contents of the letters, she was stunned for a long time: Her father had exchanged correspondence with a woman named Wu Qiaohan for over three years. In the earliest letters, Wu Qiaohan’s words were saturated with an unmistakable “green tea” vibe—phrases like, “The door is half-open, yet you don’t come; I wake to find my embroidered bed covered in willow catkins,” or “Since our vows are but empty promises, let us sever all ties,” and even, “Even if abandoned cruelly, I shall still pledge myself to you for life.” At first glance, they seemed mournful, but upon closer inspection, they dripped with manipulative coquetry. Xie Xinqi couldn’t help but suspect that this woman might have time-traveled straight out of an ancient brothel.

But as she read further, the tone of the letters shifted. The writer’s lamentations became genuine sorrow, each page stained with tear marks, repeatedly insisting, “Xie Mao, I am truly innocent…” It wasn’t until she spotted the name “Xiuchen” that Xie Xinqi finally realized—the letter writer was none other than her brother’s biological mother! The very woman who had nearly toppled her own mother from her position as the rightful wife! Frantically flipping through the pile of letters, she found a crumpled piece of paper tucked inside. Its texture matched the others, but it had been torn apart and hastily taped back together with transparent adhesive. The content of the letter read:

“Nanny, Zhou Jinru has brought shame upon us sisters. I hate her, I hate her. Make those two girls disappear. Once I marry Xie Mao, I’ll ensure your family enjoys wealth and prosperity.”

At this point, Xie Xinqi fell into deep thought. Finally, it dawned on her: So the tragic accident where her mother had mistakenly killed her older sister Xin Qiao—it had all been orchestrated by this Wu Qiaohan! Only after the truth came to light did her father finally see through this woman’s true nature, kicking her out and bringing their son home, forbidding any further contact between mother and child. Serves her right! Such a woman deserved to die! But what did she mean by “bringing shame upon us sisters”? Flipping back through the earlier letters, Xie Xinqi eventually found this passage:

“I admit, I initially approached you because of my sister’s hatred. Xie Mao, I don’t seek forgiveness, only understanding. I have no family, only an elder sister who was like a mother to me. She should have been the champion of Miss Gongzhou, the one destined to become your wife. But because Zhou Jinru bribed the media and deliberately hyped herself, the title was stolen from her. Do you know what kind of life my sister endured after your marriage? While Zhou Jinru lived in luxury despite being childless, my sister suffered in poverty, weak and ill, cooking soup for her husband in a humble dwelling! Her pain kept her awake at night, unable to sit or lie down comfortably. She loved that man deeply and bore it all without complaint, but watching her suffer pierced my heart. Later, she died in childbirth while trying to save her child, yet even in death, she asked that man to take care of me. Though the past is gone, the grief of losing my sister will haunt me forever. Xie Mao, as someone who has a sister, how could I bear to harm two newborn sisters—even if they were born to my enemy?”

Xie Xinqi couldn’t be certain whether everything Wu Qiaohan said was true, but the phrase “Zhou Jinru bribed the media and deliberately hyped herself to steal the title” caught her attention. Her mother came from an ordinary civil servant family, with no powerful connections to rely on. Before marrying her father, she certainly wouldn’t have had the means to bribe the media. Yet, Xie Xinqi vaguely remembered hearing from the elders in her family that during the year her mother competed in the Miss Gongzhou pageant, the original champion should have been someone else—a girl so breathtakingly beautiful she seemed otherworldly. But due to poor health, she withdrew from the competition, leaving the outcome uncertain. Thinking about this, Xie Xinqi returned to her room, turned on her computer, and searched for “list of contestants from past Miss Gongzhou pageants.” She found the information from her mother’s year. Scrolling past the first-place winner, “Zhou Jinru,” she noticed the fourth name: Wu Saiyu. This person also shared the surname Wu—could she be Wu Qiaohan’s sister? She searched for “Wu Saiyu,” and a black-and-white photograph popped up, startling her. A woman wearing a wide-brimmed Western-style white hat, her jet-black hair elegantly coiled at the back, held her chin up with dignified grace. As for her face… Xie Xinqi gasped: She was stunningly beautiful! This natural, unadorned beauty made flowers seem dull and jade pale in comparison. Even as a woman, Xie Xinqi felt her heart race just looking at her.

Yet, the longer she stared at the photo, the more unsettled she became. Wu Saiyu’s features were highly distinctive. There was another person in Gongzhou who bore an uncanny resemblance to her—especially her eyes, deep and oceanic, a pair unlike any other in the world.

Could she be the mother of…?

Opening Wu Saiyu’s biographical entry, Xie Xinqi was shocked even though she had suspected something similar:

Wu Saiyu (1965–1987), third wife of gambling tycoon He Yan and mother of He Yingze, the current “King” of Zhenji Wangcheng. A native of Gongzhou, she was born into a scholarly family, frail and often ill, and once hailed as the “First Beauty of Gongzhou.” She passed away at the age of twenty-two in 1987 due to complications during childbirth.

The power of genetics was truly astonishing. And the world was so small! So, He Yingze was the son of her mother’s rival’s sister—what a tangled web of relationships. After reading through Wu Saiyu’s biography, Xie Xinqi couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. If He Yingze knew about this connection, why had he agreed to meet her for matchmaking? Or did he not know? That seemed unlikely—just looking at He Yingze’s gaze in photos, she could tell he was sharp-minded… The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became. She wanted to discuss it with someone. Her first instinct was usually to turn to her brother, but considering that he was Wu Qiaohan’s son, involving him might complicate matters further. Instead, she thought of her boyfriend.

She drove through the rain to Su Jianian’s house. What happened next made her completely forget about the Wu sisters—and planted a ticking time bomb.

Lightning clawed across the sky, and relentless sheets of rain drenched the night in Gongzhou. Birds huddled in the branches, piercing the wounds of the storm-torn trees. Walking along a path paved with smooth pebbles, Xie Xinqi came upon a villa supported by Ionic columns. The building carried the shadow of a bygone colonial era, seemingly suited only to an atmosphere of overgrown weeds and drizzling rain. But tonight, the Su household was anything but quiet. A woman’s shrieks echoed from the entrance, sending a shiver down Xie Xinqi’s spine. She followed the sound under her umbrella and saw a middle-aged couple standing at the door. The wife was hysterically trying to push forward, while the husband struggled to hold her back. She wailed in anguish: “I don’t want your filthy money—I want my daughter back!”

The people standing on the steps ahead of her were two bodyguards, ready to intervene at any moment. Behind them stood Su Jianian’s mother, arms crossed, and Su Jianian himself, looking utterly bewildered. After a brief scuffle, the woman’s husband leaned in to whisper something in her ear, seemingly trying to calm her down, but his words only fueled her rage further. She pointed an accusatory finger at Su Jianian’s mother and screamed at her husband: “This woman ordered the abortion! I’ve already investigated everything! An accident? Bullshit! If they truly intended to apologize, why are we only hearing the truth now?! You must be blinded by their millions, thinking my daughter’s life is worth that little, huh?!” Despite being cursed with such venom, Su Jianian’s mother merely tilted her head slightly to avoid the woman’s pointing finger.

Su Jianian, however, was far more shocked than his mother. His eyes widened as he stammered: “What… What are you saying… Yixue is dead?”

Xie Xinqi had initially thought it best to stay out of sight during this embarrassing moment for her boyfriend and his mother. But upon hearing the mention of an abortion, curiosity got the better of her. Just as she hesitated whether to step forward, the woman turned her wrath toward Su Jianian, shouting: “Don’t pretend to be innocent! The child was already six months along! A fully formed female fetus! Many reputable hospitals abroad won’t even perform abortions at six months! Yet your mother still took Yixue to some third-rate clinic! Now both lives are gone! Give me back my daughter!!”

Who was Yixue? Xie Xinqi frowned, watching as the woman lunged forward and grabbed Su Jianian by the collar, shaking him violently. He didn’t resist, his expression growing increasingly horrified, his face paler than the Brazilian irises in the courtyard. Just as Xie Xinqi began to sense something ominous, the woman continued her lament: “It’s all your fault, you scum! Back then, you dumped Yixue just because you saw someone else!”

As soon as those words left her mouth, lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that illuminated the front yard like a morgue under fluorescent lights. The rain intensified, each drop pounding against Xie Xinqi’s heart. Finally, she remembered: the girl’s name was Liu Yixue, a cellist at the same music conservatory as Su Jianian and his ex-girlfriend. She had seen their photos together in his phone album and forced him to delete them all. In mere seconds, she pieced together what had happened—but she couldn’t process the reality. To put it sentimentally, Su Jianian had always been, in her mind, an angelic figure. During their intimate moments, he would blush easily, always restrained and composed. Even if he claimed to be a virgin, she wouldn’t have found it surprising. And yet now, he looked helplessly between Yixue’s mother and his own mother, slowly shaking his head as he stammered: “Mom… Is this true? At the time… was Yixue pregnant?”