Chapter Ninety-Two: Is It Very Hard?

Cheng Feng was startled. “This isn’t a game of Show Hand.”
He sneered, “They might not be able to afford to play.” With that, he dismissed Cheng Feng.

All afternoon, he gripped his phone so tightly it grew warm in his palm before, hesitating, he finally dialed Xiaoxiao’s number.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected for Xiaoxiao to hear from Lin Shuo; after answering with a quiet “hello,” she found herself at a loss for words. Lin Shuo remained silent too. The two waited quietly for the other to speak first. As the silence stretched on, she began to suspect he’d dialed her by mistake and hadn’t even noticed. She counted down silently in her heart: if he didn’t speak soon, she would hang up.

Five, four, three, two, one—

“Xiaoxiao.” His tone was gentle.

“Yes?” She was caught off guard.

“I’m sorry.” He said it lightly, but she knew how difficult it was for him. Her heart trembled, and she forgot all thought of ending the call, listening intently to the sound of his breathing. As if he’d finally summoned the courage he’d been gathering for so long, he spoke at last, his voice slow and steady: “I misunderstood you about the matter in Shundu. I want to apologize. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so subjective.”

“It’s… it’s all right…” She pinched her thigh to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. It had been so long since they’d spoken this way. For him to say these words was a huge step in their relationship, and the warmth that flooded her heart nearly brought her to tears. On the balcony, half-dry sheets billowed like sails in the wind, and a swallow perched on an electric wire, waiting for the sun to set. She let her guard down, realizing she’d perhaps never truly had one with him.

“Well… that’s all,” he said softly.

“Lin Shuo!” she called, afraid she wouldn’t beat him to hanging up.

He pressed the phone to his ear again. “Yes?”

“Is it very hard for you?” She had heard from her mother about the trouble from Shundu, and that the flower growers were wavering. Attacked from both sides, his days couldn’t be easy. He didn’t answer, but his weary breathing gave him away. She thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you really want that piece of land?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” He answered honestly. He had once thought that as long as he could hold her hand, be husband and wife until they grew old together, that was enough. But if he won the world only to lose her, who would be left to share it with?

“Let me help you. Leave it to me.”

“What?” He thought he must have misheard. There were better ways to make amends; this acquisition was too difficult, and even he wasn’t sure of success—how could she, who knew nothing about business? But her resolve was so firm that a sense of foreboding rose in him. He hurried to stop her: “I won’t let you do anything foolish!”

What could a woman possibly do? He dared not imagine it. Those filthy memories cut deep.

For the first time, he didn’t look down on her for it, and she wasn’t angered by his worry. She said, “Some things exist beyond reason—after all, we all have feelings, don’t we?”

Soon after, Xiaoxiao organized a dinner. She and Lin Shuo sat side by side, with Xi Mintang across from them. Lin Shuo casually draped his arm over the back of Xiaoxiao’s chair, as if to declare his claim. She didn’t resist. Xi Mintang watched, sipping his wine with cultured restraint.

“We all know each other, just haven’t sat together before. Please, don’t be formal,” Xiaoxiao said to Xi Mintang, though she herself was the most ill at ease.

The three of them ate with polite smiles, the picture of perfect table manners to any onlooker, though beneath the surface, undercurrents churned unseen.