Wounds of the heart

At this moment, the lively bustle in the front courtyard’s side chambers stood in stark contrast to the quiet candlelit conversation in the rear. Zhuge Liuyun and Ye An, both strikingly handsome and refined young men, were the sort of suitors many women dreamed of. Now, with their presence in the warm pavilion, it was only natural for beauties to flock to them. Zhuge Liuyun declined these advances gracefully and without trace; normally, Ye An would have ignored all this, but today Meng Lanyi’s words had wounded him. In response, Ye An gathered two beauties in his arms. Meng Lanyi stood nearby, her expression unchanged, still aloof, and Ye An could sense her disdain; his heart clenched. He didn’t fear her anger—only her indifference.

Inside the room, Ye An was flanked by two beauties, smiling quietly, whispering sweet nothings. The women were soft as willow, pouring wine for him again and again. One slender hand curled around his neck, murmuring secrets by his ear, making Ye An laugh aloud. His hand pinched her waist, eliciting a peal of laughter as she teased him for being mischievous. The lady on his left, seeing their intimacy, pouted and accused him of favoritism. Ye An stroked her cheek, saying, “Both of you are beauties, I love you equally…”

Before he could finish, the door slammed open with a bang, startling the women in his arms. Ye An looked at Meng Lanyi, still smiling. The woman in his embrace shrank closer, complaining, “Young Master, who is this? So wild!”

“Out,” Meng Lanyi’s voice was cool and emotionless.

The lady on the left scoffed, pouring Ye An more wine and whispering, “Young Master, your friend is truly rude…”

Ye An watched Meng Lanyi with keen interest, as if waiting to see what she would do. He remained silent, his gaze fixed on her.

She approached the table, glanced at the two beauties, picked up a cup and drained it in one go, slamming it down so hard it seemed she might shatter it. Meng Lanyi’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Ye An, your taste is truly deteriorating. Even this sort of woman appeals to you?”

Her words infuriated the two beauties, who immediately stood to argue with her. Ye An toyed with his fingers, blowing gently, his tone indifferent, “You two, leave for now.”

“Young Master…” The women tried to change his mind, reluctant.

“Out,” Ye An’s voice was icy.

Startled, the women hurried out, but not before shooting a venomous glare at Meng Lanyi.

Now only two remained in the room, silent.

Suddenly, Meng Lanyi found her own actions absurd and burst into laughter, then turned to leave without hesitation. Ye An grabbed her wrist, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her—a fierce, domineering kiss, swift as a storm, giving Meng Lanyi no chance to react. Though she knew Ye An well, she hadn’t expected this; her mind went blank. After a long moment, she remembered to resist and shoved him away, but before she could think, her palm struck Ye An’s face.

Ye An’s lips curled into a faint smile. Tears glimmered in Meng Lanyi’s eyes; she turned to leave, but Ye An seized her wrist, his brows furrowed, voice low and hoarse, “Do you… like me at all?”

Meng Lanyi froze.

Ye An slowly drew her into his embrace, burying his head against her shoulder, holding her tightly, his lips at her ear. “If you say it, I’ll believe you. If you tell me, I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Meng Lanyi moved her lips, but said nothing.

“You know, you’re kind to everyone, yet only indifferent to me. At first I thought I was special to you, but the longer we’ve known each other, the less certain I am. I don’t have much confidence, Lanyi. Give me some hope. Even the tiniest bit, and I can keep going.” His voice was plaintive, tugging at Meng Lanyi’s heart, but her reply was still cool and remote. “Ye An, I’ve never promised you anything. You needn’t wait for me.”

Ye An’s body jolted as if he could barely stand. He steadied himself against the table, staring at her in disbelief, as if she were a stranger. “Pestering… putting up… tired…” Ye An repeated the words, his handsome features pale as snow. After a long silence, he suddenly laughed, his voice as cold as a blade. “So that’s why you’ve been hot and cold with me. In front of others, you’re just giving me face.”

“So,” Meng Lanyi paused, seeing his pallor, and finally said, “Don’t waste your affection on me anymore. It means nothing to me.”

The candlelight stretched her departing shadow long and thin. Ye An watched her back in a daze, then collapsed to the floor, drained of strength.

Meng Lanyi returned to her room, her face already icy cold. She slid down beside the door. She thought she could be without desire, but she had failed. She knew Ye An was good to her, but he could not go on. If she fell in love, the consequences would be unbearable. Her future was already fixed; she could not let herself love freely.

This was best for everyone—ending his hope, and cutting off her own retreat.

Outside, the moon was shrouded in dark clouds, plunging the world into darkness.

Zhuge Liuyun awoke from another nightmare, drenched in sweat. He rose and lit a candle; its glow fell on his pale face, giving him a cruel beauty. He sat quietly at the bedside, wiped his brow, and the dream’s scene lingered vividly in his mind.

“Lianxin…” Zhuge Liuyun forced out the name. “Do you really hate me so much, hate me enough not to see me even in dreams? Yes, you must not wish to see me again. In the end, I’ve failed you.”

“Lianxin… You must be pleased to see me like this now. You’re unhappy—I share your unhappiness. I once betrayed you, and now I’m punished for it.”

“Lianxin… The thing I regret most in this life is missing our appointment that day. If only you knew, I’d trade everything I have now for the chance to run away with you…”

“Lianxin… Hate me, please. I’d rather you hate me, but we can never go back.”

His clenched fist struck the bed’s edge, white knuckles stained with blood. He closed his eyes, pain piercing his heart.

Ye Qianran awoke just as the eastern sky began to pale. She sat up abruptly, checked that her clothes were intact, and breathed a sigh of relief. Rising from bed, she found herself alone; Wei Zhuang was gone. She poured herself a cup of tea, sipped it, and slowly recalled last night. She remembered talking with Wei Zhuang for a long time, then somehow falling asleep; when she woke, she was already in bed, likely carried there by Wei Zhuang. She had no idea when he left.

Opening the door, the air was cool, and everything was still asleep. Mist hung in the air; the old plane tree in front was shrouded in haze, its leaves scattered on the ground. The lotus pond’s flowers had not yet unfurled. Ye Qianran dipped her hand in the water, sending ripples across the pond, feeling the lingering chill on her fingertips. She took a deep breath and slowly made her way to the front courtyard. Before she reached the arch, she saw Gu Qingcheng approaching with a maid carrying toiletries. Seeing Ye Qianran, Gu Qingcheng smiled, “Miss, you’re awake?”

Ye Qianran nodded and asked, “Where’s Wei Zhuang?”

“Master Wei left before dawn,” Gu Qingcheng replied, signaling the maid to carry things inside, then walked alongside Ye Qianran.

“Oh, and Master Wei asked me to relay a message. He said he’ll do his utmost regarding your request, so you can rest assured.”

Ye Qianran was moved, but said nothing, only smiled.

After washing up, Ye Qianran quickly ate the breakfast Gu Qingcheng brought, then asked about her brother. Gu Qingcheng said that Young Master Ye and Young Master Zhuge had left last night, but the remaining friend was still there, though not yet awake.

Ye Qianran was taken aback. Hadn’t they agreed to stay together? Did something happen last night?

With this in mind, Ye Qianran bid farewell to Gu Qingcheng and, guided by a maid, went to find Meng Lanyi.

Meng Lanyi had not yet slept, rather than not yet risen. Ye Qianran saw the exhaustion on Meng Lanyi’s face and frowned. After dismissing the maid, she dared to ask what had happened.

Meng Lanyi said nothing, sitting quietly on the bed, arms around her knees, staring blankly ahead, her gaze hollow and scattered. She moved her lips, but no words came.

A sense of foreboding rose in Ye Qianran.

She returned from the warm pavilion to the Ye residence. Her mother sat in the hall, wiping away tears; her father’s face was dark, silent. Zhuge Liuyun comforted her mother softly, his own face weary, the air heavy with tension.

As Ye Qianran stepped over the threshold, Ye Yuandao saw her return and glanced at her clothes, shaking his head in disappointment, sighing. Ye Qianran had no time for this and asked, “What happened? Where’s my brother?” Wen Qiumei grabbed her, sobbing, “Your brother came home and locked himself in his room without saying a word. This morning, even the servants bringing his meal were chased out. The room is a mess—things smashed everywhere. What on earth happened?”

Ye Qianran was bewildered. She looked at Zhuge Liuyun, who could only shake his head helplessly.

Later, when Zhuge Liuyun was leaving, Ye Qianran walked him to the gate. He turned, his handsome features tinged with fatigue, but his voice remained gentle. “To drive Ye into such madness, it must be something to do with Miss Meng. Matters of the heart are always most trying. Ye loves too deeply, so he’s easily wounded. Miss, you should help him see things more clearly.”

Ye Qianran stared at him, as if not hearing his words. She said, “Call me Qianran.”

Zhuge Liuyun was momentarily stunned, then understood, but before he could respond, she interrupted, “May I call you Liuyun?”

He looked at her steadily, silent for a long time.

Ye Qianran smiled, “I’ll take your silence as consent.” She turned to leave, then paused as if remembering something, and asked, “When will you be able to let go, Young Master?”

Zhuge Liuyun opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Ye Qianran had expected this, so she didn’t linger. She turned and walked away. Zhuge Liuyun watched her departing figure thoughtfully for a long while before finally leaving.