Hey friends!
Guess what? After wrestling with my old hosting site (it was not a pretty fight), I’ve finally moved the blog to a shiny new home! The old site is still limping along, but it won’t be for much longer—so this is where the magic will happen from now on.
Now, full disclosure: I’m not a tech genius. There were tears. There was confusion. There may have been snacks used as emotional support. But we made it through!
If you spot anything weird or glitchy, please holler in the comments. I’m still tidying things up and trying to make this place look cute again.
I know I went quiet for a while—life threw some curveballs and I needed a minute (or several). But I’m back, and ready to start fresh. Thanks a million for sticking around. You’re the best.
Chapter 44: Lu Huaiyan Held Her From Behind
In the shower room, the sound of water gently falling echoed as the frosted glass was covered in a thick mist.
Lu Huaiyan had changed into his sleepwear and, when he entered the bathroom, glanced at the shower room before lowering his gaze and taking out the hairdryer from the cabinet.
A few minutes later, Jiang Se stepped out of the shower.
She was drenched, with water droplets falling from her satin-like hair and fair skin.
Lu Huaiyan looked at her. “I’ve hung your bathrobe for you. Put it on first, and I’ll dry your hair.”
The bathrobes had originally been his size, but later he had the butler send over a batch made specifically for her.
The dark green bathrobe wrapped around her body like an oily green leaf enclosing white flower petals.
Jiang Se slowly walked towards him, tying the belt of her robe as she went. She sat on the washstand, letting him dry her hair as her small legs dangled.
He had just showered as well, with droplets still clinging to his hair.
Jiang Se lifted her lashes and asked him, “Why aren’t you drying your hair?”
Lu Huaiyan casually grabbed a towel and tossed it into her hands, saying indifferently, “No need to dry it. Just wipe it for me.”
Jiang Se took the towel.
One of them pressed their body down while drying hair, the other tilted their head back to wipe, their positions a bit funny but in perfect harmony.
Jiang Se’s gaze landed on the short sideburns he had shaved at his temples. She wiped the water off his head, then softly asked, “The person you saved, did she survive?”
Lu Huaiyan’s gaze didn’t shift as he responded casually, “She survived.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Pretty good. She hasn’t thought about dying again. Maybe she regrets trying to die in the first place.”
Jiang Se made a soft sound of acknowledgment, then pulled the towel off his head, saying, “It’s dry.”
Lu Huaiyan glanced at her and, after pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, chuckled softly, “Impatient.”
Jiang Se didn’t respond, knowing it was true. She had barely wiped a few times before she didn’t feel like continuing, so she said nothing.
Lu Huaiyan had more patience than her on this matter, drying every strand of hair completely before unplugging the hairdryer.
Placing the dryer aside, he lifted her face, looking into her eyes, and said, “When I saved her, I had already made up my mind. If she tries to die again, I won’t save her a second time. Being alive but not living is a painful thing. Nine out of ten people who have attempted suicide would never choose to go through that kind of pain again. The remaining one, if they still have the courage to choose suicide, it means that living is even more painful for them. I won’t save such a person. If Zhang Yue wakes up and still wants to die, you don’t have to save her.”
Jiang Se fell silent.
The last words Zhang Yue left behind were all for her.
She said she knew Ah Cheng had died, and she wanted to join him.
She said, “Thank you, Miss Jiang. I’ll return the house and No. 38, Jin Xiu Lane to you.”
She said, “Sorry. This apology is for Ah Cheng, and also for myself.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Jiang.”
After a pause, Jiang Se asked Lu Huaiyan, “Do you remember Zhao Zhicheng? One of the kidnappers who kidnapped me seven years ago?”
Lu Huaiyan replied, “I remember.”
“Zhao Zhicheng kidnapped me and harmed me,” Jiang Se said. “I just want to hate him.”
But why was it that such a person gave her a glimmer of hope when she was at her most desperate?
The two men, after being stopped by Zhao Zhicheng the first night, didn’t give up.
She, as a defenseless and tempting prey, how could they possibly give up?
The second night, one of them stopped Zhao Zhicheng outside while the other went in to force her to drink the drug.
At that time, Jiang Se had already lost all hope. She had been kidnapped for 48 hours, and she knew clearly that those 48 hours were her golden window for rescue. Once missed, there was a high chance she wouldn’t survive.
When Zhao Zhicheng rushed in to kill them, and the blood splattered across her face, she even thought that she was the next person he was going to kill.
But he didn’t. He picked up the handkerchief, wiped the blood from her face, and apologized to her.
How ironic, that he said “sorry” to her.
“Then hate him,” Lu Huaiyan said indifferently, “You have every reason to hate him, and you don’t need to feel any pity for the woman he loves.”
Jiang Se lowered her eyes and didn’t say anything else.
Lu Huaiyan used the back of his hand to smooth the stray hairs by her cheek. “Don’t think about it anymore. I’ll carry you to bed.”
He changed her into sleepwear, placed her in bed, and when turning off the lights, Lu Huaiyan held her from behind.
Jiang Se’s back pressed against his chest, his warmth transferring through the thin fabric, inch by inch, to her body.
She was like a curved spoon surrounded by him.
It was the first time they slept in such an intimate position.
“Will it be uncomfortable, sleeping like this?” His voice sounded from above her.
Jiang Se closed her eyes and replied, “No.”
“Do you need sleeping pills?”
“No need.”
Lu Huaiyan rested his chin on the top of her head. “Then sleep, princess.”
When she opened her eyes again, it was already past three o’clock.
A slight, heavy sensation rested on her waist. Jiang Se lifted her gaze to see a forearm lying across her waist, pressing her hand down.
The skin was cold and white, with veins twisting beneath the surface, resembling white porcelain glazed with a few strokes of blue.
In her daze, she felt a rough intrusion at her fingertip, as the man’s long, bony fingers slowly slid through her finger roots, taking hold of her right hand. A deep, hoarse voice followed: “Are you awake?”
Jiang Se stared at his fingers that had intertwined with hers and slowly replied, “Mmm, I need to go to the hospital.”
Hearing this, Lu Huaiyan released her hand. “Eat something first. After you’ve eaten, I’ll take you there.”
Jiang Se hadn’t eaten anything since noon the day before. As soon as he mentioned it, the hunger hit her. Though hungry, she didn’t have much of an appetite, so she ate some porridge before heading to the hospital.
Zhang Yue hadn’t woken up yet, and He Miao was dozing in a chair.
Jiang Se entered and woke He Miao, telling her to go rest. She then turned to the nurse standing to the side and said, “You can go back now. We don’t need you here.”
The nurses were arranged by Lu Huaiyan, and upon hearing this, they exchanged glances before looking at the man leaning by the door. When they saw him nod, they finally left.
“You can leave too,” Jiang Se said to Lu Huaiyan. “I’ll wait for her to wake up here.”
Lu Huaiyan nodded, “Send me a message when you’re ready to leave. I’ll come pick you up.”
Jiang Se agreed, “Arrange for someone to send He Miao home.”
He Miao was packing her things and, upon hearing this, glanced at the cold-eyed man outside the door, waving her hand. “No need, Miss Jiang. I can take a taxi home.”
Jiang Se glanced at He Miao’s weary face. “It will take at least half an hour for a taxi to arrive. You should go back and rest, and you can come earlier tomorrow to replace me.”
He Miao couldn’t refuse any further and simply said, “Thank you,” before following Lu Huaiyan out.
Once they were gone, the hospital room became silent.
Jiang Se placed the cardboard box she had brought from Zhang Yue’s home on the floor and took out the printed oil painting, placing it at the bedside.
As the sky gradually darkened, the room was illuminated by the light.
When Zhang Yue opened her eyes for the first time, the first thing she saw was the oil painting of irises.
In her daze, she almost thought she had arrived in heaven.
“This is Van Gogh’s Irises,” Jiang Se said softly.
Zhang Yue was in a daze for several seconds before gradually coming to her senses. She slowly shifted her gaze to Jiang Se, who was sitting by the bedside.
“Does your stomach hurt? Your head probably hurts too, right?” Jiang Se looked at her and said calmly, “These aftereffects will last for a few days, and it will take a few days before you recover.”
Zhang Yue didn’t reply, not sure whether it was because she felt unwell or didn’t want to speak, or perhaps it was both.
Jiang Se’s gaze briefly fell on the painting by the pillow and said, “This painting was probably a gift from Zhao Zhicheng, wasn’t it? The artist who painted this lived a very painful life, but look at his work—he had a magnificent and unparalleled spiritual world. No matter how painful life was, his expectations for life were just as strong.”
She looked at Zhang Yue. “Isn’t it similar to your qipao, Boss Zhang? You lived such a tiring life, but the qipaos you made were all so beautiful, especially the one you gave me. It was stunning, but there’s one thing you got wrong about that flightless bird.”
She pulled out the bird encyclopedia from the box and flipped to the page about the flightless bird.
“This type of bird doesn’t really have no legs. It’s just that its legs are structured differently from other birds, so it can’t push off the ground to take flight. Once it lands on flat ground, it can never take off again. But there is one place where they can still spread their wings and fly,” she pointed to a line in the book. “Cliff faces. As long as they rest in these places, when they fall, they can use the strong winds to take off. The steeper the cliff and the more violent the wind, the easier it is for them to fly.”
“When Zhao Zhicheng called you a flightless bird, perhaps he was just trying to tell you, Boss Zhang, that even when you’re on the edge of a cliff, even when there’s an abyss below, you can still take flight. You can still have a bright future.”
At that time, Zhang Yue had indeed been living on the edge of a cliff, with endless mist and darkness below her. If she had let go, she would have fallen to her death.
So, was Ah Cheng hoping that even if she fell, she could still take flight?
Zhang Yue moved her lips, wanting to speak but unable to make a sound.
Jiang Se helped her sit up and fed her half a glass of water slowly.
After drinking the water, Zhang Yue wet her throat but didn’t want to speak. She simply stared at Jiang Se.
Jiang Se asked her, “How did you guess that Zhao Zhicheng was dead?”
The suspicion in Jiang Se’s heart was confirmed by Zhang Yue’s words. Slowly, Zhang Yue lowered her eyes and fell silent for a long while before softly saying:
“If Ah Cheng really escaped, he would have come back. Even if he couldn’t show himself, he would have hidden somewhere where he could see me. Miss Jiang, you were one of the people he kidnapped. If he saw you appear by my side, fearing you would take revenge on me, he would try everything to take me away.
“But he didn’t show up, which means he didn’t escape. But he’s not in prison either. Otherwise, Miss Jiang wouldn’t need to come looking for me, you could just go directly to the prison to find him. The only possibility is that he’s dead.”
“You’re right, that does seem like his style,” Jiang Se said, “Then these two contracts,” she took out two documents from the box, “Do you know they are invalid?”
Zhang Yue froze for a moment and looked up.
Noticing her reaction, Jiang Se smiled and said, “It seems you didn’t know. After the old district redevelopment plan, Lian’an Old District will no longer have No. 38 Jinxiu Alley. I never intended to return the qipao shop to you. Even if there was no redevelopment plan, I would still take the shop from you. You know the reason— the money used to buy the shop was the reward Zhao Zhicheng received for kidnapping me. You really should return the shop and the apartment you live in to me.”
“But Boss Zhang, I didn’t get close to you to seek revenge,” Jiang Se said calmly as she tore up the documents in her hand, standing up to throw them into the trash. “Once I get the clues I need from you, I’ll invest a sum of money into you. I mean a clean sum of money.”
“Investment?”
“Yes, investment,” Jiang Se slowly turned to face Zhang Yue. “The qipaos you make are filled with spirit. What I want to invest in is you as a person and the talent you inherited from your mother. There won’t be a No. 38 Jinxiu Alley anymore, but there will still be ‘Zhang Xiu.’”
Once she started a completely new life, no longer clinging to a shop bought with dirty money, perhaps Zhang Yue would slowly forget Zhao Zhicheng, and forget the despairing past.
This was her revenge on the dead Zhao Zhicheng, while also returning the so-called “favor” he had once saved her from those two people.
She would not allow herself to feel any gratitude toward Zhao Zhicheng.
“You were willing to die for Zhao Zhicheng. Why can’t you live for yourself, for the inheritance of qipao craftsmanship passed down through your family?” Jiang Se asked.
“Wasn’t it your obsession with making money back then just so you could return to Tongcheng to inherit what your mother left behind, to carry forward the skills of the Zhang family? If you really want to die,” Jiang Se pulled out the book on qipao from the box and handed it to Zhang Yue, asking her word by word, “How about waiting until He Miao truly masters it, and then you can die? You’re only thinking of going down to accompany Zhao Zhicheng, but have you thought of accompanying your mother?”
Zhang Yue lowered her eyes, staring at the book in her hands.
It was an old book, one she had nearly worn out from flipping through, and one she had always hesitated to throw away.
“A lighthouse shatters, does that mean you can’t build a new lighthouse for yourself?” Jiang Se’s gaze moved away from the book in Zhang Yue’s hands, speaking calmly. “I also once forced myself to find a lighthouse.”
Zhang Yue licked her dry lips and asked, “You also once searched for one?”
“I did,” Jiang Se slowly smiled. “At that time, I was only sixteen. No matter how strong or brave I was, I was still just sixteen. After that incident, I became afraid of the smell of smoke, afraid of lightning and thunderstorms. I couldn’t even stand others touching me; if someone did, I’d feel disgusted, I’d vomit until my stomach cramped. Later, I met someone who helped me forget that disgusting feeling. That person was the one who carried me out of the abandoned factory back then.”
She was so desperate to heal that she made Lu Huaiyan her savior, thinking that as long as she had him, as long as she was by his side, she would heal.
At sixteen, Cen Se began to slowly plan.
In their family, the most direct and effective way was to start with Old Master Lu, because at that time, Old Master Lu could decide whom Lu Huaiyan would marry.
“And then?” Zhang Yue asked.
“And then?” Jiang Se lowered her eyes and smiled. “Then I realized that using someone as a lighthouse is like building a castle in the air. A castle without a foundation is always on the verge of collapsing. After two years of coming to this realization, I decided I didn’t need that lighthouse anymore. Why can’t one live without a lighthouse? Why must we find a lighthouse when we can be our own lighthouse?”
The harbor that shields you from the storm may eventually be flooded by the sea, the mountain you lean against could be home to wild beasts, and a fragile lighthouse could be torn apart by a single storm.
Her feelings for Lu Huaiyan at that time were actually twisted, like the moon in a mirror or a flower in water. Once she realized that this person could not redeem her, the intense emotions faded quickly.
“All the pain a person goes through can only be healed by themselves in the end,” Jiang Se looked at Zhang Yue, her gaze steady. “I’m not as strong as you think. I’m still in pain.” She lifted her eyes, meeting Zhang Yue’s gaze. “I still have a piece of rotting flesh in my wound. As long as it remains, I can’t heal. But I know that if I catch that person, I’ll be completely healed. You feel guilty toward me, don’t you? Then help me catch that person, and if you still want to die afterward, I won’t save you.”
Upon hearing that Zhang Yue had woken up, He Miao hurried to the hospital at eleven o’clock that night.
Jiang Se came out of the ward and, when she lifted her eyes, saw the man standing at the end of the hallway. He arrived quickly; she had only sent him a message ten minutes ago.
The man had his hands in the pockets of his coat, leaning against a half-open window, watching her with calm, deep eyes.
As Jiang Se approached, he asked, “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” Jiang Se nodded. “I want to eat some noodle soup, the one from Donglai Shun.”
Lu Huaiyan smiled. “You want to hear the story of Old Mr. Yan and Miss Se again?”
The people at the shop that day had insisted that he was an elderly scholar because of the words he wrote on the back of the red envelope, turning a 28-year-old man into an old, elderly figure.
“The shop is already closed,” he took her hand and walked toward the elevator, smiling as he said, “Tonight, we’ll make do. I’ll personally cook you a bowl of hot noodle soup, just like Old Mr. Yan would.”

Leave a Reply