Chapter 37: Snow Falling on Pine Branches

For the next few days, no snow fell in the Imperial Capital.

Outside the villa, the daylight remained bleak, the wind sharp and cutting.

The snow on the roads was frozen hard, and every morning, maids cleared icicles from the eaves.

Inside, the villa was warm as spring.

When Yu Zhu was awake, Ruan Suhua would carefully write in his palm, stroke by stroke—about the Imperial Capital, about the weather, about her own name, and about his new name.

Ruan Xihe.

When she whispered those three syllables with lips and teeth, her voice lingered soft and tender.

Yu Zhu sat silently at the bedhead, his expression unchanged.

More often, Yu Zhu was asleep.

Then Ruan Suhua would stand quietly by the window, gazing at the pale, colorless sky.

She wondered if there would be another snowfall this year.

She wondered, too, where she would be with him when next year’s snow arrived.

The wind roared between heaven and earth.

Time crept forward.

That afternoon, a pure black Bugatti cut through wind and snow, coming to a stop outside Tianxing Villa.

In the study, Ruan Suhua had just finished a video conference.

She was about to take off her suit jacket and head to the room when a maid knocked and entered.

“Miss, Second Young Master Su has arrived. He’s waiting downstairs.”

“Su Jianian? Alright, I know.”

She refastened the button she had undone, stood, and answered with gentle composure.

In the parlor downstairs, a pale yellow wintersweet branch had just been placed in the vase on the glass table.

Steam curled from a celadon teacup, and the humidifier filled the air with warmth and moisture.

As soon as Ruan Suhua walked in, the man slouched on the sofa straightened at once, his face breaking into a wide grin.

“Just a few days apart, and Sister Suhua has grown even more beautiful.”

She wore a light brown suit, her slightly wavy hair falling to her shoulders.

Simple daisy earrings hung at her ears.

Her makeup was light, her long lashes softening the beauty of her eyes, making her look approachable and kind.

“Su Jianian.” She sat on the angled sofa, her tone flat. “Let’s get to the point. No need for useless chatter.”

“Ah, that’s a bit cruel, Sister Suhua.”

Su Jianian sipped his tea, smacking his lips with forced ease.

Tall and handsome, dressed in a brown trench coat, he wore the trendy Korean-style mullet haircut.

Though only twenty-three, the air of frivolity clinging to him lent a faintly decadent, weary look.

Ruan Suhua cast him a silent glance.

The tea went down the wrong way; Su Jianian choked and coughed for a long while before straightening, his face sobering.

“Sister Suhua, this time, I’ve truly found the love of my life.”

“She’s beautiful, gentle, not greedy for my family’s money—absolutely the best choice for a wife.”

“So this time, you really must help me.”

Ruan Suhua calmly lifted her cup, drinking with elegant leisure.

Among the Su family’s many sons in the capital, Su Jianian was the fourth of his generation.

From childhood, he had drifted along unnoticed, idle and spoiled.

As he grew older, he drowned himself in women and drink, dissipated and aimless.

As for “true love”…

From Suhua’s count alone, she had heard him declare it nine times.

“Sister Suhua, you have to believe me. This time is different. This time is real…”

“I know I’ve made mistakes before. That’s why Ning Yao’s first impression of me was so poor. No matter what I said, she refused to meet me.”

“But I’ve really turned over a new leaf now. I promise, I’ll never fall for any girl except her…”

His fifth vow to reform.

Ruan Suhua took another sip of tea, unhurried.

“In ten days, there’s an auction at Shengyuan. Ning Yao and her elder brother will be there, so I was hoping…”

“Hoping I’d make the introduction?” Ruan Suhua set down her cup, a smile on her lips but no fluctuation in her tone. “But I don’t know Ning Yao well.”

“That’s no problem. All you’d need to do is speak a few kind words in front of her. With your reputation, Sister Suhua, Ning Yao wouldn’t doubt your words. At the very least, she wouldn’t turn away the moment she saw me. Then I could…”

Su Jianian launched into his fantasies of ten days later.

Ruan Suhua didn’t interrupt.

After all, in her previous life, Ning Yao had appeared at that auction, hand in hand with her fiancé.

“…And for the proposal, I’ll take her to an amusement park, set off fireworks all night. Or maybe…”

“Or maybe Provence’s lavender fields would be romantic enough…”

Still dreaming aloud, Su Jianian rambled on.

A maid entered with fresh tea.

As she rose, she paused for a moment.

Following her gaze, Ruan Suhua, too, froze briefly.

It was snowing.

Outside the window, tiny, light flakes drifted down from the sky.

Snow fell from pine branches, the view stretching far and wide into a pure silver world.

It was snowing.

Ruan Suhua rose abruptly.

A maid who attended Yu Zhu was waiting by the parlor door.

Suhua strode out quickly, then turned back as if remembering something.

She looked at the stunned Su Jianian, her tone less detached than before.

“Go home. I won’t be at the auction in ten days. You’re on your own.”

Ten days from now, she would be at the villa.

Without waiting for his reply, she left at once, hurrying upstairs.

In the bedroom, another maid was adjusting the cast on Yu Zhu’s left wrist.

At the moment Suhua entered, Yu Zhu lifted his head faintly, sensing her.

In the next instant, his right hand was taken.

“It’s snowing, Xihe.”

She exhaled softly, writing the character for snow in his palm.

“Let’s go outside to see it.”

The snow outside grew heavier.

By the time his cast was secured, Yu Zhu was bundled up tightly.

A white knit cap pulled low, a pale gray scarf wrapped across most of his face, layers of thick clothing, warm gloves over his hands.

The world’s chill was shut out.

Even the cedar scent that usually clung to him was muted.

In a daze, Yu Zhu recalled being bundled up by his mother as a child, trudging through the snow for New Year’s visits.

So it had snowed again.

Seated in the wheelchair, he felt Ruan Suhua bury her face against him, her arms full around him.

Her muffled voice called, “Xihe.”

“Xihe.”

Just holding him like this, calling his name again and again, already filled the emptiness in her heart.

Nothing else could fit.

“Let’s go see the snow.”

Her heartbeat ticked to seven hundred twenty-one.

In the dark world, a light breeze stirred.

The wheelchair pressed into the soft snow, slowly rolling forward.

Then it stopped.

The air in the snowfield was clean and cold.

Yu Zhu tilted his head slightly.

No sound.

Not a single snowflake landed on him.

Time stretched.

At last, his scarf slipped slightly, and a sharp wind swept across him.

By the time he counted four hundred thirty-six, he no longer cared.

He was used to it.

“Xihe.”

Ruan Suhua rushed back beneath the maid’s umbrella.

Snowflakes clung to her hair.

Her words came out in pale white breath.

She gently took Yu Zhu’s hand, pulled off his glove, and placed in his palm a pinch of snow she had caught.

“It’s snow, Xihe.”

Yu Zhu felt the chill of snow against his palm.

Her fingertip rubbed gently, crushing the crystal flakes into droplets of water.

Snow.

The corner of his lips lifted faintly.

Even bundled in heavy layers, eyes blindfolded with bandages, that smile shone dazzlingly bright.

Ruan Suhua reached to straighten his loosened scarf, smiling softly as she laughed with him.

Not far away, in the warm Bugatti, Su Jianian watched snow falling outside the window.

He turned to his friend.

“Since when did Ruan Suhua have a younger sister?”

His friend glanced out too, face uncertain.

“Never heard of it. Could she be an illegitimate child?”

“If she were, Suhua would’ve torn her apart, not kept her close. And I’ve never seen Suhua like this before—she’s always so polite and pleasant, but today she basically kicked me out.”

“Then… could that person be her daughter?” the friend blurted out.

“…Cough, cough—how could that be? Still, she does fit my type. Long hair, pale skin, looks great in a scarf. Bet her personality’s good too. And she probably doesn’t want my family’s money. She must be my fated—”

From afar, Ruan Suhua’s gaze swept briefly toward them.

Startled, the friend started the engine at once, cutting off the trailing sound of Jianian’s voice in the gusting wind.

“Heh.”

Ruan Suhua withdrew her eyes coldly.

To the maid holding the umbrella, she said, “Cancel Shengyuan’s auction in ten days. And have Jing Liang come tonight.”

“Yes, Miss.”

She bent down, taking Yu Zhu’s hand, her tone turning light and cheerful.

“We’ve seen the snow, Xihe. Let’s head back.”

The tracks in the snow were quickly covered.

Outside the villa, the wind rose, whirling snowflakes back into the sky.

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