Chapter Fourteen: A Single Thought Summons the Golden Lock

With this opening, the conversation that followed became much easier. Aunt and Uncle inquired in detail about Gu Huaizheng's situation; apart from what he couldn't disclose, he answered almost everything.

Only then did Lu Jianwei learn that the army he served was stationed on Qiong Island, which at that time was far from being a tourist destination.

But as long as she could survive, she wouldn’t hesitate—even if it meant following the army to Qiong Island, or even going to Africa to plant baobab trees.

Moreover, the great upheaval was imminent. In chaotic times, the only safe places were the countryside and the military. If she could hide with the troops on Qiong Island, someone with her background would be even more secure.

Yet Aunt was somewhat hesitant, “How long can you stay in Haicheng?”

Even two or three years would be a relief.

Gu Huaizheng’s response was uncertain, “I have to return to the army next month, so I can only stay here for half a month. After we marry, if Weiwei doesn’t follow me, she can remain in Haicheng. I’ll need your help looking after her. I get half a month to a month of leave each year; when I’m on leave, I’ll come back.”

“Aunt, after the wedding, I still want to go with him,” Lu Jianwei said. “If all goes well, at the end of August, Xiao Zhu will go to Beijing to study. After I see him off, I’ll head to Qiong Island. Xiao Zhu and I have grown up; we’ll take care of ourselves from now on.”

Aunt’s tears fell, as if her niece were already leaving home.

Gu Huaizheng looked deeply at Lu Jianwei. “Aunt, Uncle, rest assured, I will take good care of Weiwei and Xiao Zhu.”

Seeing the atmosphere turn somber, Uncle hurriedly said, “It’s a fine day; let’s look forward. Come, since Xiao Gu is here, let’s have a couple of drinks. It’s been ages since I’ve had any.”

Lu Jianwei quickly objected, “Uncle, he drove here. How can he drive after drinking?”

Although there was no such thing as drunk driving back then, the rule of not drinking and driving was ingrained in people of later generations.

Aunt agreed, “It’s not safe to drive after drinking. The guest room is ready—let Xiao Gu share a drink with your uncle and spend the night here.”

Gu Huaizheng’s alcohol tolerance was bottomless; while Uncle was so drunk he couldn’t lift his head, Gu Huaizheng’s gaze remained clear, though less restrained, following Lu Jianwei’s every move. Clearly, he’d had more than usual.

Aunt and Xiao Zhu helped their drunken uncle to the bedroom; he staggered along, muttering, “Come, Xiao Gu, I’m not drunk—drink! Tonight, we won’t stop till we’re both drunk.”

Aunt wished she could slap him. “Drink, drink yourself silly! Xiao Zhu, fetch him another bottle.”

Xiao Zhu laughed, and so did Uncle. “Wife, you’re wonderful, you drink too!”

In the guest room, Lu Jianwei was making up the bed.

Gu Huaizheng entered and took over the task. “Let me do it, you rest.”

He moved with remarkable efficiency: gripping the sheet by its corners, he gave it a swift shake and spread it perfectly flat—no wrinkles at all, the habit of someone with obsessive precision. Even the quilt was folded into neat squares.

“You’re not planning to sleep?”

Gu Huaizheng paused, clearly muddled from the alcohol.

With only the two of them in the room, silence brought awkwardness.

Lu Jianwei was about to leave when Gu Huaizheng grabbed her wrist. “Weiwei!”

They stood close; his other hand rested on her shoulder, his fingertips touching her carotid artery. She couldn’t help but swallow—if Gu Huaizheng knew medicine, he could gauge her racing heartbeat by the pulse beneath his fingers.

His hand slid slowly up the back of her neck, his gaze deep and dark. He leaned in, and Lu Jianwei lowered her head, feeling his fingertips gently press against her lips.

Soft and tender—just as he’d imagined, surely sweet.

His gaze lingered.

Just as Lu Jianwei thought he might take another step, Gu Huaizheng abruptly let go and stepped back.

Moments later, Lu Jianwei heard her brother’s footsteps, running up and stopping at the door. He sensed something odd in the air. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just finished making the bed,” Lu Jianwei said, pointing to the opposite door. “The bathroom’s over there; you can shower there. Xiao Zhu, grab him some toiletries.”

With that, Lu Jianwei kept her composure as she left, walking with steady steps, though only she knew her heart hadn’t calmed and her legs still trembled.

Upstairs, she leaned against the door, touching her lips—the rough calluses on his fingers still lingered there.

She dashed to the bed, burying herself in the covers. Now she was certain: Gu Huaizheng truly stirred something in her, every move of his provoking a rush of dopamine and phenylethylamine.

She desperately needed some ice cream to steady herself.

After locking the door, she entered the space.

She took a box of blueberry ice cream from the freezer, licking it as she headed to the underground parking level.

Descending in the elevator, she found the family’s cars parked quietly in their spaces. The guest parking area was now filled with boxes.

Lu Jianwei casually opened one—inside lay rows of pearls, all uniform in color and size.

She opened another: shining gold bars.

Then antiques, jadeite-carved miniature mountains, coral three feet tall, gold-inlaid jade scepters—all of exquisite quality and craftsmanship, worth a fortune.

On the second basement level, the boxes she’d moved from the red brick building were also there, filled with treasures. The accumulated wealth of several generations of the Lu family, spanning centuries, was now in her hands.

She had no intention of donating any of it.

These belonged to her and Xiao Zhu. In the future, she’d share them with him as appropriate. For now, they couldn’t be used—possessing such things would only invite disaster, so she kept them safely in the space.

The air in the space seemed especially fresh. She strolled to the back garden, where flowers bloomed in abundance. Not far off, the golf course turf was lush and green; near the mountain spring, a few plots had been cleared by the gardeners, though nothing had been planted yet.

Several acres of seedling beds, rich black soil, soft and fertile.

Spring water was channeled through bamboo tubes into the ponds, mist drifting and spreading, enveloping the entire estate in a dreamy haze. Sunlight pierced the clouds, the lighting just right.

Lu Jianwei recalled that in other people’s spaces, there was always a spiritual spring. She wondered if the mountain spring here held any special energy.

She filled a cup with water, exited the space, and poured it into a flowerpot on her windowsill. The jasmine plant, once wilted, suddenly perked up, its leaves stretching out energetically.

It seemed the mountain spring in her space was extraordinary—at least for plants. She wondered if it might benefit animals as well.

With a bit left in the cup, Lu Jianwei carried it to the living room aquarium, pouring the last drops in. The fish, previously swimming lazily, darted over, shaking their heads and drinking eagerly. At once, they grew lively, clearly invigorated.

Apparently, the spring water helped animals too.

Still, Lu Jianwei was cautious, not wanting to jump to conclusions. She drew another bit of spring water, picked up Aunt’s Persian cat, and fed it some.

Of course, the cat didn’t instantly become radiant, but for the first time, the usually aloof feline—like a little emperor—showed her kindness, circling her legs and refusing to leave.