Buddhist Scripture is rely a facade, Mrs. Yan said, as her hands trembled incessantly. What a sin, what has turned her daughter into soone unrecognizable. She beca sharp-tongued and bitter, cursing Su Ziceng and Chang i daily, those who opposed her. Then she cursed Fei Qing, and in the end, even Su Qingzhang and that poor child were not spared from her vitriol.
"Auntie, if I could turn everything back to how it was, would you resent ?" Su Ziceng asked, feeling utterly powerless against the woman who wiped her body like a mother, who watched her eat until her mouth was greasy, laughing with joy. Guilt gnawed at Su Ziceng’s heart. But what good is guilt, what good is chanting scriptures and praying to Buddha? If she could be reborn, Su Ziceng would rather have had nothing to do with Yan Wuxu from the start. Perhaps then, Yan Wuxu, Mrs. Yan, and that pitiful mother and child could have found peace.
"It’s too late to go back now, Ziceng, the sky is about to change," Mrs. Yan opened her eyes, pointing to the window behind the Buddha statue. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, and a peal of spring thunder rumbled, heralding the first spring rain of the year, accompanying the thunder as it began to fall.
Mo City underwent so changes after this spring thunderstorm; the green velvet grass and pink peach blossoms all transford.
When Yan Wuxu returned, it was already late. She was drunkenly stumbling, had not brought an umbrella when she left, and her face sared with makeup mixed with rain and sweat. Purple eyeshadow mingled with her lipstick, leaving damp trails along the handrails of the stairs.
Slowing down in the corridor, Yan Wuxu glanced suspiciously at Su Qingzhang’s room which was dark, concluding that he probably had gone to sleep. Her husband had completely turned cold towards her; the remnants of his affection for her had all shifted to the infant.
"Ridiculous, truly ridiculous. The ever so clever Su Qingzhang, still being played by like a fiddle," Yan Wuxu staggered towards her own room. The door was ajar, which she pushed open completely with her hand.
A lamp was lit in the room. Su Ziceng sat by the window as if she hadn’t noticed her return. Her face was turned towards the outside. The incessant spring rain fragnted the whole window pane into a shattered pattern.
It had been a long ti since things had been like this. Yan Wuxu rembered when she first married into the Su Family, she was not accustod to it, so for a while, she always had Su Ziceng to accompany her. They would sit just like this, sizing up the view outside the window.
However, she didn’t think Su Ziceng was waiting for her tonight to reminisce about the past. She walked over to Su Ziceng, and just as she was about to sit down, Su Ziceng stopped her, "Go wash up and change your clothes first."
Yan Wuxu turned and entered the bathroom, from which the sound of flushing water erged.
Su Ziceng fished a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. She didn’t smoke and even found the sll of smoke hard to bear.
This pack of cigarettes was taken from Yuxu’s vanity. Even the bathroom she was currently using slt like that of a chain smoker’s.
Su Ziceng had already asked Secretary Wang to investigate the man who was with Yan Wuxu, but the news hadn’t co back yet. However, it seed there was no need now.
The fragrance of this cigarette was very distinctive. Su Ziceng only needed to sll it once to rember it, and she had encountered it twice. Once was on Shang Yin, the scent lingered on him, and another ti, on Shang Yin’s yacht, it was the sa scent from the cigarettes Fei Qing and his people smoked.
Was it Shang Yin or Fei Qing? Su Ziceng speculated in her heart, whichever it was, their association with Yan Wuxu was not a good thing.
Yan Wuxu ca out, having washed off her makeup, she regained the look of the young student she was when she first t Su Ziceng.
The spring rain continued outside the window, a flash of lightning illuminated the entire room, followed by another peal of thunder. Su Ziceng noticed sothing different in Yan Wuxu’s face than before.
"It’s too late to go back, Ziceng," the image of Mrs. Yan, devoutly praying in front of the Buddha statue, rose again in Su Ziceng’s mind. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, you are welco to cast your recomndation tickets and monthly tickets on Qidian (qidian). Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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