Le canari dans la cage

Chapitre 1

Ten Years of Warm Words

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

In 1998, when Aheng first met Yan hope, her eyes were almost stung by the sight.

Before arriving in City B, knowledge of the city's prosperity was confined to the black box most treasured at home, accompanied by the unpredictable onslaught of the rainy season. A clear, sweet female voice, unusually warm amidst the indistinct electrical current, would often be there, sitting on a bamboo stool in front of the medicine stove, fanning herself with a palm-leaf fan. Not far away, on a wooden bed, would lie the gentle, shy Zai Zai, her pupils as clear and beautiful as the glass marbles Zai Zai had played with as a child, her eyelashes fluttering as she softly asked her…

"Sister, today's medicine isn't bitter, is it?"

She gripped the palm-leaf fan, her movements slowing, the strong, astringent smell of medicine filling her nostrils. Feeling conflicted, she dared not turn around, her voice soft and hesitant, only managing a mumbled, "Mmm...it's not bitter..."

"Sister, I believe you when you say it's not bitter." Zai Zai looked at her clearly, smiled gently, her clear eyes full of laughter, adding a touch of liveliness to her thin face.

Therefore, when she fed him the lukewarm medicine to his lips, she definitely didn't look at him.

She's not good; when faced with problems she can't solve, she often chooses to escape.

Then, when she left home and was taken to another home, she instinctively ignored even saying goodbye.

From the south to the north, from barrenness to wealth, Wen Heng refused to transition. To put it nicely, he was "gentle by nature and adaptable to any situation"; to put it bluntly, he was "cold-blooded, selfish, and ruthless."

The townspeople were puzzled. They said that Yun Heng had lived in the Yun family for sixteen years and called Yun Dad and Yun Mom "Dad and Mom" sincerely and without any pretense. How could she forget the kindness of her parents after she had her birth parents?

The town mayor's daughter-in-law, who ran a herbal tea shop, raised an eyebrow and smiled with a hint of sarcasm. "It's a pity that the Yun family only has a broken medicine stove and two open-air rooms. If this foster father lived in the government compound, let alone having a sickly deity in the house, he could raise a whole bunch of tigers. Look at that girl, will she leave or stay here!"

That's it. Ah Heng's biological grandfather and father live in a government compound in City B. They are powerful officials who can bring down their poor little town with a stomp of their feet!

Of course, Ah Heng couldn't hear these words. At that moment, she was gritting her teeth and staring intently at the car window, afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would vomit so violently that she would soil the expensive car!

I was in a daze, and I don't know how much time had passed. The scenery rushed past my eyes, my mind was blank, and then it fixed on the gradually clearing neon lights. I felt dizzy, and the sound of strong wind rushed through my ears.

As everything fell silent, the moment she opened her eyes, the car door slowly opened, and slender, slightly bent fingers, carrying a hint of summer sunlight, appeared before her.

Ah Heng admitted that she had an inexplicable expectation for those hands at the time, and looking back, she felt that she might have had some kind of infantile complex.

"Welcome, Yun Heng." The owner of those hands was a boy of seventeen or eighteen, with a very tall and slender figure and deep dimples. He looked at her and smiled brightly. He opened the car door with his right hand and placed his left hand politely on his chest with a gentlemanly and charming demeanor, slightly close to his heart.

"I am Wen Siwan. Grandpa asked me to take you back."

Siwan, Siwan, Wen Heng murmured to himself, gently raised his head, looked carefully into his eyes, and then, realizing something, subtly looked away and lowered his head again, looking slightly embarrassed.

Siwan smiled faintly, thinking that she was just being shy, and didn't take it to heart. She waved goodbye to her grandfather's secretary politely, and took the briefcase from Wen Heng's hand as a matter of course.

Ah Heng looked at Si Wan carrying a suitcase. Si Wan's back was tall and straight. She was not far from Ah Heng, but not close to her, about an arm's length away. Ah Heng was stunned for a moment, and then took a deep breath of air, but the feeling of depression remained in her chest.

Yun Heng and Yun Zai are siblings, but it's fake.

Siwan and Aheng are siblings, really.

But for Aheng, what is false and what is true?

A child from a remote, impoverished area, stepping into the city for the first time, despite her inherent naiveté, always possesses a surprising degree of keen insight. She could see Siwan's unease, such clear rejection, all hidden in her bright, clear eyes, making her so embarrassed that she had no choice but to ignore it.

As Siwan walked, her eyes slowly wandered over the so-called "government compound." Rows of independent white Western-style buildings stood neatly arranged on both sides of the flat and wide road, giving off a clean and efficient feeling, unlike what she had imagined—a compound covered in gold and silver, luxurious and easily revealing the desires in people's hearts.

It was summer, and the trees were lush. Several villas were nestled among the greenery. As Siwan walked along the pebble path and was gradually hidden by the trees, Aheng was still in a daze. By the time she realized what was happening, Siwan had already disappeared.

Whether to advance or retreat, Wen Heng was left with no choice but to stand frozen in place, staring blankly at the forked cobblestone path.

Fortunately, this child is kind and gentle by nature, and not impatient. He knows that if Siwan can't see her, she will naturally go back the way she came. At worst, she will always be able to find someone to ask for directions.

Wen Muxin, her grandfather's name, was something the middle-aged man who looked like a secretary had definitely told her.

At dusk, the beautiful European-style buildings behind the trees cast their light on the warm side, making it feel quite hot.

Subconsciously, she raised her face, intending to look at the setting sun, but instead saw a window bathed in golden sunlight through the cool gaps in the trees.

Years later, on a winter's day, Ah Heng sat in a warm café on a Parisian street, reciting dry medical principles. He would glance up and see a hazy figure outside the window, his breath steaming in the mist. He would unconsciously wipe away the white fog with his fingers, revealing the real, vivid scene outside. He would smile with indulgent joy and relief, vaguely catching a glimpse of time in the exquisite beauty of France. He would jokingly call this moment of remembrance "Secret Of My Boy".

From beginning to end, Yan hope, that fool, never understood that everything was just her secret. Even though she had long since spoiled him from that unrestrained, sharp-tongued, beautiful, sharp, stubborn, and fragile boy into such a distinguished, proud, invincible, and radiant man, the only thing she could whisper on her tongue was—boy, my boy.

That day, her boy was hiding behind the white window screen, while she could only see a vague silhouette of a person, blurry, yet her eyes were unable to look away, as if bewitched, and she could only stand there looking up, staring at that window with a subtle and tense feeling through the gap in the tree.

Its right arm was bent into an elegant arc, with slender, distinct knuckles beneath strings with delicate curves. The body of a violin nestled against its left shoulder, and its jawline was sharp yet carried a fatally alluring quality. Though it was a chaotic image, the powerful sunlight ruthlessly tore apart the subtle ambiguity in her heart. In an instant, that shadow became crystal clear. She almost presumptuously glimpsed its soul. Accompanying the arc of its arm as it moved through the air were real musical notes. Before her ears could register them, her eyes were already stung by its pure and destructive beauty.

I expected to hear the sound of the piano, but inexplicably, all that remained was silence, only the sound of my own breathing. Slowly, it felt as if I were drowning, losing consciousness and powerless to cope.

"Ashi, why are you torturing my ears again? You've started the wrong key!"

That shout awakened her soul. Turning around, she saw Siwan's smile. Her eyes were curved with warmth and piety, showing no other emotion than the disgust she had shown towards her.

Looking back, the figure had vanished, leaving only the empty window.

Before she could react, the window screen was pulled open halfway, and in the blink of an eye, a basin of water was neatly and precisely poured onto Siwan, without wasting a single drop.

Then, the figure's fair hand quickly retracted the pink plastic basin, slammed the window shut with a "bang," and drew the curtains, all in one swift motion, as if exorcising a ghost.

He approached her with such an unavoidable and powerful presence. At the age of sixteen, Wen Heng could not escape the blessing of fate and finally met Yan hope.

After a long while, Eve asked her with great interest, "Ah Heng, be honest, did you fall for the beautiful Yan right away?"

Ah Heng smiled, her tone gentle and soft—"How could that be?"

Back then, I was young and incredibly naive. I didn't think much of it; I just felt that the people in the capital were different. Even their way of splashing water was so arrogant, so domineering, so...cool...

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Yunheng had imagined a thousand scenarios of seeing his loved ones, but they were nothing more than a lump in his throat, tears, and a mix of emotions, just like the Huangmei Opera his mother used to love to watch at home, which was deeply moving and touching; or perhaps it was awkwardness and unfamiliarity, with both of them being cautious and the distance between them creating a sense of estrangement that could not be eliminated for the time being.

I've considered every possibility, but none of them feel as real as the scene before me. And this reality is real because it rejects all assumptions.

"Siwan, what happened to you?" The old man's sharp eyes slowly swept over Wen Heng, finally settling on the boy who was covered in water and looked like a drowned rat.

"Axi and I were just joking around, and it happened by accident..." Siwan didn't mind at all, and smiled amiably.

The dignified old man nodded slightly, then turned his gaze to Wen Heng.

Ah Heng's heart was pounding; she felt as if time had stopped at that moment. The old man's gaze made her feel like she had nowhere to hide.

What was your name before?

“Yunheng.” Aheng grew up in the south and although he had learned Mandarin, it was very awkward and difficult for him to speak. So he spoke one word at a time, which made him sound clumsy.

“According to Siwan’s generation, when your mother was pregnant with you, I gave you a name, Si’er, but that name was taken. You should keep your original name, Wen Heng.” The old man pondered for a while, looking at his granddaughter, before finally speaking.

"It's been taken?" Aheng was a little confused. Her gaze unconsciously and cautiously looked at Siwan, finally settling on his hand. The boy clenched his fist imperceptibly, revealing faint blue veins. Water droplets from his sleeve slid down the back of his hand.

"Aunt Zhang, take Wen Heng to rest." The old man instructed the middle-aged woman standing to the side, then looked at Si Wan and said, "Go and clean up. It's inappropriate for such a grown man to do this."

The deeper the love, the greater the criticism.

As Ah Heng followed Zhang Sao up the curved wooden staircase beside her, this sentence flashed through her mind.

The contrast between positive and negative examples is something that even teachers in small towns have always taught.

When she was very young, her father told her that family affection cannot be calculated by addition and subtraction. When it exists, it is a completely selfless giving; when it does not exist, it is zero. There is no middle ground for calculating or weighing things.

"We're here, this is it." Aunt Zhang walked to the corner on the second floor, opened the bedroom door, looked at Ah Heng, and her expression was somewhat unnatural.

"Thank...thank...you." Ah Heng's voice was gentle, and his soft, Wu-accented Mandarin was somewhat comical.

Aunt Zhang looked at Ah Heng for a long time, then sighed and turned to leave.

Ah Heng dragged her suitcase into the bedroom, but suddenly became confused.

The room is filled with warm blue, with an exquisite and cozy design that exudes the atmosphere of life. There are delicate blue seashell wind chimes, soft enough to fill four of her beds, and warm bedding. Has anyone else lived here before?

Aheng felt a little awkward as she stood on the sea-blue carpet, taking in everything around her.

The room felt completely out of place for her, as if she had intruded into someone else's private space. Aheng was at a loss, awkwardly put down her suitcase, and gently sat down on the glass swivel chair next to the glass round table.

Fang looked down and saw several exquisite straw dolls scattered haphazardly on the round table. There was a dignified grandfather with gray hair and a spiky mustache, a smiling grandmother with arched eyebrows wearing a cross pendant, a spirited father in a navy uniform smoking a cigarette, a gentle mother with her hair styled in a beautiful bun, and a boy with large, upturned eyebrows and deep dimples. Was this... the Wen family?

Looking at the adorable dolls, Ah Heng's tense mood strangely relaxed. She reached out and carefully stroked their outlines with her fingertips.

"Don't touch Er'er's things!" Ah Heng was startled, her hands trembled, and instantly, the doll fell onto the carpet.

She turned around, staring blankly at the woman who had suddenly appeared before her, and her nose strangely began to sting.

When she was little, she knew that she didn't look like Zai Zai, her mother, or her father. People would often point and whisper behind her back. Although she felt uncomfortable, she would always squat by the river and stay until it was time to prepare medicine for Zai Zai.

My mother was a well-educated lady from a once-wealthy but now impoverished family. She had read many books and was a renowned female scholar in town.

"Mom, why don't I look like you?" she once asked her mother.

“Aheng looks good like this.” Her mother smiled gently at her. “Distant mountain eyebrows are more elegant than willow leaf eyebrows.”

Aheng has eyebrows resembling distant mountains, and her eyes are delicate and gentle, giving her a serene and picturesque appearance. Yunmu, on the other hand, has typical willow-leaf eyebrows, exuding the charming beauty of a woman from Jiangnan.

The woman before me had exceptionally beautiful, arched eyebrows.

Ah Heng stood up and watched intently as she walked to her side, gently squatted down, and tenderly picked up the fallen doll before standing up again.

She stood stiffly, her eyes fixed on the woman.

The woman, however, seemed not to see her at all. With a gentle and kind demeanor, she turned and quietly walked past her, leaving without a word.

As Ah Heng watched the woman's retreating figure, a feeling of inferiority, a sense of self-doubt that even he couldn't be sure of his own existence, slowly welled up from the bottom of his heart.

Who is she? At that moment, the child wished she could crush herself into the air and become untouchable dust.

Ignoring someone is crueler than abandoning them.

Mother, such a gentle and tender word. Aheng's mother.

Mom, Mom.

Ah Heng hugged her suitcase and cried, almost as if she felt humiliated.

As Ah Heng expected, only her grandfather, the head of the family, attended dinner that day. He asked her many questions, and Ah Heng was so nervous that she often stammered, until the sprightly old man frowned.

"I've already spoken to the school. You'll go to school with Siwan tomorrow. Ask him if you don't understand anything."

In the early morning, Ah Heng met the secretary who had picked her up to take her to City B again, but this time in a different car.