The rain, which had just begun to ease, started to drizzle down again, seeming urgent. Thunder fractured the gloomy sky, wailing like the climax of an epic.
Xu Si, in a white dress, stood in the middle of the room. Her pale, slender hands rested on a chair, her beautiful nails painted a rose color, as she stared unblinkingly at the book.
Ever since the news of Pei Zhen’s maritime disaster, she hadn’t visited this room. To suddenly see a book of such style, Xu Si was still somewhat surprised. She couldn’t believe that Pei Zhen would still be curious about this mysterious discipline. After all, even in his youth, he had never been naive, always possessing a maturity far beyond that of an adult.
Dark-styled architecture usually has one characteristic: gloominess. No matter how clean the entire Xu Mansion was kept, it resembled a haunted house when uninhabited—luxurious yet somewhat eerie.
Xu Si imagined the clear and noble youth, dressed in his uniform, sitting by the wrought-iron window. He was curiously holding the black-covered book, poring over its occult contents. She smiled faintly, her heart as soft as a pastry soaked by rainwater, her teasing voice tender as she murmured,
The storm wavered, the wind threatening to sweep rain into the room. She detected the indistinct coldness of a drop in temperature.
Fearing that the book would continue to be eroded by the humid air, Xu Si walked past the desk and chair to the window and closed it as firmly as she could. She then stretched out her slightly damp hands to pick up the book from the corner.
She had just kneaded dough and washed her hands, so they were still damp. The invisible droplets on her fingertips instantly made the pages stick together upon contact.
She furrowed her brows and carefully moved her fingers away.
The pages made a faint, rustling sound as they rubbed against each other, flipping open.
The once-clean book suddenly changed color. Xu Si lowered her gaze, and with only a slight shift in her viewing angle, her eyes were filled with a shocking red.
The yellowed, wrinkled pages of the book were covered with well-spaced, even somewhat sparse, black English letters.
But the blank spaces were densely filled with two words, written over and over in red ink:
Her name was on every page, packed so densely it formed an impenetrable barrier, as if trying to fill every crevice of the book and suffocate anyone who read it.
Her hand trembled, and the book instantly fell to the floor with a heavy thump. The pages didn’t close but spread open, exposing the crowded red ink to the cold, damp air.
The smile on her lips immediately stiffened. Xu Si took a step back.
Her sparkling, upturned peach-blossom eyes seemed seized by the book. Whether compelled by some unseen force or simply not wanting to be discovered by those outside, she took a deep breath. Wiping her clean fingertips on a piece of old paper, she tiptoed closer and crouched down again.
With trembling hands, she reached once more for the book.
Page after page bore her name. The first pass was neat, but the second crammed her name into the gaps left by the first. Some lines were pressed so hard they left deep indentations, not even sparing the very edges of the paper, giving it a disorderly look.
But however chaotic it appeared, each letter was clear and discernible, sharply defined.
Xu Si pursed her lips. Another image surfaced in her mind:
In the season when vivid red roses bloomed, the gentle, well-mannered, handsome young man would sit at this desk every night, etching her name, the backs of his pale, slender hands traced with blue veins.
So, it had begun so early. Evil had crept all around, as if unnoticed by anyone.
At first, Xu Si’s mind was blank as she tried to visualize the scenes and situations hinted at by these traces from the past.
Then her heart suddenly thumped heavily, like boiling water. After the fire had burned, consuming all the oxygen, she felt close to suffocation.
She quickly put the book back on the shelf and carefully stood up, only to discover a letter under the desk.
It too was written in English.
The handwriting was exceptionally beautiful; each stroke seemed to draw one into the depths of their heart.
"I’m rebellious, gazing at a wild ’Rose’ until my eyes wither."
She pursed her ever more lustrous red lips, her hands trembling lightly. She picked up the fountain pen and wrote a few words, then, startled by her own actions, looked away, turned the doorknob, and walked out without hesitation.
The time spent in the bedroom must have been brief, but in my mind, it felt exceptionally long.
As she walked down the corridor stairs towards the first floor, the windows on both sides rattled loudly, buffeted by either the fierce wind or the sudden rainstorm. Through the murals on the wall, Xu Si heard the faint sound of footsteps coming from the stairs below.
She initially thought it was an illusion and hesitated before continuing down.
At the dim entrance of the first-floor landing, a handsome man stood holding a peach blossom-filled pastry. His silver hair stirred in the wind, and his striking features seemed to glow. A tiny, almost negligible, red mole on the tip of his nose enhanced his otherworldly beauty. His fine gray eyes watched her with a dark, deep gaze.
Xu Si’s body trembled. Suppressing the shock of having spied on a sinful secret, her complexion returned to normal.
"Did you finish making them that quickly?"
Pei Zhen, holding the soft pastries, heard her voice and smiled. His voice, blending with the sound of the rain, was very pleasant.
"I didn’t hear your voice and thought you’d gotten lost, so I came to look for you."
Xu Si paused, then smiled. "Are you really so afraid of losing me?"
Pei Zhen looked at her smile, then turned and went back to the kitchen to continue working with the pastries.
Xu Si raised an eyebrow and followed him, watching his retreating figure, lost in thought.
Good. A real man indeed, daring to admit his feelings, never haughty or trying to act cool.
Xu Si didn’t intervene in the subsequent steps of making the pastries. Pei Zhen didn’t seem to insist on her participation either, but to give her a sense of involvement, he let her press the oven button.
During the quiet wait for the peach blossom pastries to bake thoroughly, Xu Si brought bathing supplies and the largest bathrobe she could find for Pei Zhen.
"The wind was strong just now, and the rain blew in on you. Go take a hot bath. I’ll wait for you here, and when you’re done, we’ll get the peach blossom pastries together."
Pei Zhen didn’t refuse. Ever since entering Xu Mansion, he seemed to be in an especially good mood. He also seemed to dislike the feeling of the dough on his fingers, so he stood up, entered the familiar bedroom, and gently closed the door behind him.
Then, he opened the door again, rested his hand on the second-floor railing, and propped his chin, looking down at Xu Si.
"You said you would wait here for me?"
Xu Si sat on the sofa and turned on the television, which hadn’t been used in a long time. "Mm, waiting for you."
These days, the entertainment industry on Hong Kong Island was highly developed. There were news channels, but the most popular were still the nonsensical comedy movies and crude, risqué variety shows.
Xu Si randomly switched to a channel. It was financial news.
A rotund reporter was angrily criticizing the Xu Group for monopolizing steel imports from abroad.
Xu Si didn’t want to be berated on a holiday, so she immediately switched channels.
But the more she changed channels, the less interesting they became. Perhaps the book had left such a deep impression that every time she closed her eyes, she could see those vivid red names. She simply had no mental energy to pay attention to anything else.