“I never expected you to have any goodwill towards Er’er. In fact, I hoped you could hate her. That way, I would feel even more guilty and treat you even better, to make up for the lack of family affection you received growing up…”
He knew what she wanted, but why did he still go down this absurd and deviant path with such malice?
Siwan paused, hesitated for a long time, and then spoke softly but cruelly.
"But Wen Heng, in my entire life, I've never wished more than at this moment that you weren't surnamed Wen!!!"
Ah Heng's clenched fist loosened. She felt her fingertips were covered in sweat, and her entire body was burning hot and screaming. Strangely, her heartbeat remained ridiculously steady and strong.
Slowly, she squatted down on the ground, curled up into a ball, and even her face was wrinkled and buried deep inside.
My throat was trembling, my eyes were terribly sore, but I couldn't bring myself to cry.
It turned out that she didn't care about the Wen family as much as she had imagined, Wen Siwan.
Who cares if the surname is Wen! Who cares...?
After thinking for a moment, she stood up unsteadily, but just as she was about to laugh, tears fell from her eyes.
"Wen Siwan, do you fucking think you're acting in an eight o'clock soap opera?" Before she could speak, Yan hope sneered, stepped forward, clenched his fist, flicked off the sleeve of his white shirt, and punched Siwan in the cheek.
Caught off guard, Siwan stumbled and fell to the ground.
Xin Dayi Xiaoxia was dumbfounded.
"Dayi, you're keeping up with Young Master Wen's drunken antics, I'm not playing along!" Yan hope rolled up his sleeves, panting heavily, grabbed Aheng, and strode away with a lonely, proud back.
As they walked out, Ah Heng shook off the boy's hand.
"You don't believe Siwan, do you? I've harmed Er'er..." Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like she had killed someone in a desperate state. Her words were incoherent and utterly nonsensical.
Yan hope shook his head, remaining silent without even smiling, but his beautiful eyes slowly filled with a gentle understanding.
She looked at him in panic, utterly disgusted by the way he looked at her with eyes that seemed to pity her.
This made her feel ashamed and inferior, lacking any sense of pride.
He reached out, his clean, slender fingers gently enveloping hers, binding each finger with his own. His slightly cool fingertips brought a subtle warmth as they walked.
She was led by him, clinging to the direction of his arm, aimlessly.
In the end, tears welled up, and she lost control.
"I hate Siwan, I hate her so much..." she kept repeating loudly, only able to see Yanxi's black hair through her tears.
Yan hope paused, sighed, turned around, pulled the girl into his arms, and gently patted her back.
"I know, I know..."
Her emotions that day were a rare loss of control in her life, so how could she notice the rare tenderness and accommodation this young man showed?
The girl cried almost sobbing in the boy's arms. He held her, as if comforting a helpless newborn infant, with the patience of a brother or even a father, and said many, many things to her.
She heard a lot, but forgot a lot, because she didn't know which words were sincere, or which she should only partially believe.
However, she never deliberately forgot that one sentence, which she lived until her death.
So clear, so beautiful.
"Aheng, thank you for having the surname Wen."
Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Si'er returned to the Wen family home, where she was personally picked up by Old Master Wen. In the study, Siwan received a scolding, and that seemed to be the end of the matter.
However, Ah Heng is even less talkative than before. She just smiles at everyone she sees, and her gentle and kind demeanor hasn't changed much.
Her mother bought her so many things to eat, wear, use, and play with, wishing she could bring them all home in sacks. This doting love was the result of countless sleepless nights filled with guilt and inner conflict.
However, since the mother was finally satisfied, if she still had filial piety, then everyone was happy.
What's disheartening is that whenever I see Si'er, I always feel intimidated and can't get close to her.
In Siwan's eyes, this probably confirmed that she had a guilty conscience.
She couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started, but Yan hope seemed to suddenly become close to her, treating her like a good buddy, the kind of close friend he hadn't seen in years.
She accepted this kindness with a smile, and felt that life was even more dramatic than a soap opera.
Perhaps it's because spring has arrived, but she always seems to oversleep on weekends, often staying in her room all day.
Speaking of the room, she asked her grandfather for permission to move into the bedroom furthest from the stairs. When she opened the window, there was a sycamore tree. When she moved in, there had just been new branches, which were tender and full of life.
Braised Pork Rice loves her new room. Every evening, it would stroll to her window, perch on a sycamore branch, and call out, engaging in a conversation with her—a conversation between a human and a bird. It would chant "Braised Pork, Braised Pork," its quirky and mischievous manner much like its owner, while she would read her Chinese textbook to it, her Mandarin still hopelessly terrible.
Whenever I read the last line of "Memorial to the Throne on the Eve of the Northern Expedition," "Tears streamed down my face as I wrote this memorial, and I could not express myself clearly," I would always burst into laughter when I looked into the dark, bewildered eyes of the braised pork rice.
Aunt Zhang was also quite frustrated, sighing repeatedly—"What's wrong with this child? He's always been a bit slow, but I hope he's not so stubborn that he's gone mad..."
With tears in her eyes, Si'er said, "It's all my fault."
What mistake did you make, at what time, in what place, and at what minute? She wished she were a paragon of virtue, a gentleman of impeccable character, but unfortunately, there are still people in this world who are willing to smear her reputation.
Ah Heng laughed, pretending not to hear.
Every weekend, Aheng would go to Mao'er Hutong, bringing along some good soup and water. Seeing that Xiaoxia's grades had improved a lot and her chubby little face had regained its color, Aheng felt very at ease and her mood improved a lot.
The child always loved to tell her about the delicious food, how annoying someone in his class was for bullying him because he was short, and how he bullied him back with a frog. He didn't treat her like a stranger at all, and acted spoiled and unruly to the point of being lawless.
"You're raising a baby, not bad, not bad. You'll definitely be a good wife and mother in the future," Da Yi joked.
She blushed, stammering for a moment. Such a private, personal desire wasn't something she wanted to share with others…
But not all girls have to get married and have children; being a virtuous wife and loving mother is a good thing.
So, she composed herself and turned back to Da Yi with a smile.
Haha, well said!
Da Yi burst out laughing—"Little girl, how old are you, already thinking about getting married? You're so shameless!"
Ah Heng glared at him.
Okay, I wish you never get married or have children, and you never have the chance to be a good husband and father!
Years later, his words hit the nail on the head, leaving Ah Heng utterly bewildered.
If only I had wished myself back then that every lottery I bought, whether it was the sports lottery, the welfare lottery, or scratch-off tickets, would win and that I would be woken up by Euros falling from my sleep!
In his spare time, Yan hope would always find a lot of excuses to drag her to his house to play. He discovered that Aheng was quite talented at playing games, so he took her in as his disciple. Unfortunately, she surpassed him, and Aheng always beat Yan Xi badly, leaving the young man bruised and battered.
However, this is an easy child to coax; a bowl of pork rib noodles and he immediately beams with joy.
The braised pork rice has recently taken a wrong turn with its language, no longer chattering away like a ghost, "Braised pork, braised pork," but instead feigning profundity, tucking its little wings behind its back, and sighing with deep emotion—"I don't know what to say, I don't know what to say."
Yan hope laughed wildly, flicking the little thing's head—"You know you're talking nonsense, huh!"
Helpless, Ah Heng held the tearful braised pork rice in her hands and comforted her for a while.
"Aheng, don't spoil it. The little thing isn't that delicate." Yan hope raised an eyebrow.
Ah Heng smiled—"Neither delicate nor strong, ah..."
Such a fragile being needs to be protected to feel at ease.
The boy curled his lip—"Xiaoqiang is small enough, but it's still indestructible!"
Ah Heng chuckled lightly; if it came down to a verbal battle, she couldn't possibly win against Yan hope.
Suddenly, the boy's dark, bright eyes widened as he stared straight at Aheng, making her feel uneasy. Only then did he speak with deep affection, "Oh dear, poor child, you've lost so much weight lately. Have you not been eating properly? Have you been busy fighting with Si'er, starving yourself and pretending to be a little wife?"
Ah Heng smiled and rolled her eyes slightly.
"To show my sympathy, I've decided..." The young man paused, his expression serious—"to buy you a drink!"
What kind of Martian thinking is this?
Ah Heng smiled and nodded, agreeing.
Taking advantage of the moment when Elder Yan was busy with social engagements and Lieutenant Li was dozing off, he pulled her along and sneaked into the underground storage room.
"It's so dark!" Ah Heng said softly.
"Shh, keep your voice down, don't let Aunt Li find out!" Yan hope whispered.
"What, are we not allowed to drink?" Aheng asked, confused. Back in Wuzhen, she often had a few drinks with her father, usually with green tea or plum wine, and she had a good tolerance for alcohol.
"Child, you are a minor!"
In the darkness, a hand gently patted her head, like patting a puppy.
"Oh." Ah Heng nodded, wondering if Yan hope could see clearly in the pitch-black wine cellar.
As it turned out, she had worried too much. This man was clearly a habitual thief; he busied himself quietly for a short while before returning with the wine.
She adjusted to the darkness of the wine cellar, and her eyes gradually became able to see the general outlines.
It's a huge place with lots of wine, mostly in porcelain teapots, making it feel like you've stumbled into an ancient winery.
When Yan hope came to her senses, she was already sitting cross-legged on the ground.
Ah Heng chuckled and, mimicking the boy's manner, sat down opposite him.
“Here you go.” Yan hope was very generous; he kept one bottle for himself and handed another to Aheng.
"Drink like this?" Ah Heng was stunned. Shouldn't there at least be a cup?
"Otherwise what?" Yan hope laughed. "Don't worry, there's plenty of wine here, no need to save for my old man."
Ah Heng felt helpless; she felt that she had communication difficulties with Yan hope.
But seeing the boy's carefree demeanor, I felt that I wasn't magnanimous enough. After all, life is short, and it's rare to be able to truly enjoy oneself.
So, he found the bottle opening, removed the cork with his fingertips, smiled and demonstrated, and took a big gulp.
Spicy and refreshing.
The boy looked at her, his eyes in the darkness like ancient black jade nurtured in white crystal.
"Fenjiu?" Aheng asked.
Yan hope nodded and handed her the one in his hand—"Try this."