Pcing the box on the bed, she said, "Oh? Mr. Bai!"

  "Open it!" Bai Peiwen's breath was slightly quickened.

  Fang Siying hesitated, gncing at him again. She didn’t move right away. Bai Peiwen became somewhat impatient and urged, "Open it!"

  Reluctantly, she opened the box, and for a moment, she was dazzled. The box was divided into two sections. One was filled with women′s accessories—brooches, bracelets, neckces, and rings—all of the finest jewelry. The other section contained a velvet-covered booklet, tied with a bck satin ribbon.

  Bai Peiwen whispered softly, "Take out the booklet, close the box... Oh, Miss Fang, do you hear me? Why aren't you moving?"

  "Oh, I... yes," Fang Siying replied, quickly taking the booklet out and closing the box.

  "Put the box back in the drawer. It's the only thing salvaged from that fire. Have you secured it, Miss Fang?"

  "Yes."

  "Good, now sit down." She sat down.

  "Open the booklet! Start reading it to me."

  She looked at Bai Peiwen deeply, then slowly opened the first page of the booklet. Her heart tightened, and stars seemed to burst before her eyes. She had slept too little st night, and now she felt restless, dizzy, and disoriented. She took a deep breath, composed herself, and read the writing on the first page: "The Posthumous Manuscript of My Beloved Wife, Zhang Hanyan."

  "What′s the matter? Miss Fang?" Bai Peiwen urged. "You're not feeling unwell, are you? Are you sighing?"

  "Oh, I'm a bit tired; I think I didn't sleep well st night," Fang Siying said, forcing herself to speak, wanting to escape the task at hand.

  "But would you be willing to read a few passages for me?" he insisted.

  She sighed helplessly.

  "All right, if you really want to hear it."

  She lowered her head and turned past the first page, beginning to read from the main text. The text was written in delicate, small handwriting, neatly inscribed on cream-colored stationery with subtle rose patterns, carefully and exquisitely bound. The first thing she read was a touching little poem, and she began to recite it softly:

  "Remember the day we met under the flowers,

  I asked you what your heart desired,

  You whispered to me softly, 'I want you! I want you! I want you!'

  Remember that night under the enchanting moonlight,

  you asked me what secrets my heart held,

  I whispered back to you, 'I love you! I love you! I love you!'

  But what night is it tonight?

  Why are we not exchanging a single word?

  I don't know what you desire.

  and you don't ask about the secrets of my heart,

  Only the cuckoo bird in the forest sighs:

  "Better to leave! Better to leave!"

  Fang Siying gently raised her head and looked at Bai Peiwen. He was lying there, his fingers crossed under his head, his blind eyes wide open, his face serious, deep, and fully focused. The pain in Fang Siying's heart grew, expanded... turning into a powerful pressure, weighing down on her nerves. This task felt cruel and painful to her. Two tears rolled down her cheeks, and she quietly wiped them away. As she continued reading, her voice trembled:

  "I can still clearly remember that day, that scorching afternoon. I stood on the square where the tea leaves were drying, my head wrapped in blue cloth, my hands and feet wrapped in blue cloth, standing there, watching the tea leaves flutter in front of me. What was I thinking at that time? No dreams, no poetry, no prince from my fantasies. I was poor, I was lonely, I was like a dried-up tea leaf, having long lost its green color. But, on that afternoon, that scorching afternoon, my life completely changed..."

  She suddenly felt unable to continue reading, at least not willing to. She stopped, lifted her head, and stared bnkly at Bai Peiwen. His body shifted slightly, and his face turned toward her.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  She suddenly stood up, throwing the booklet onto the bed. Her voice trembled with emotion as she said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bai, I can't continue reading for you. I'm very tired, and I need to rest."

  Without waiting for Bai Peiwen's reaction or thoughts, she walked quickly toward the door, opened it, and swiftly left the room, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it, closed her eyes, and stood there for a while, her mind like a pot of boiling water, swirling with tumultuous thoughts.

  After a long pause, she opened her eyes, only to be startled when she saw Lao You standing quietly in front of her, watching her intently.

  "Oh!" she excimed. "What are you doing? Lao You? You startled me!"

  Lao You bent slightly, his attitude surprisingly respectful.

  "Sorry," he said, holding a piece of paper in his hand. "There's a telegram. I need to take it to the sir."

  "Oh," she quickly stepped aside, saying, "Will you read it to him?"

  "Yes," Old You replied, his sharp gaze lingering on her. "Or Miss Fang could take it and read it to him."

  "Oh, no," Fang Siying said, heading downstairs. "You go ahead."

  She quickly made her way down, not liking the way Old You was looking at her. It made her feel uncomfortable. Lao You—he was quite a formidable character. What kind of opinion or judgment did he have of her?

  In the afternoon, Fang Siying decided to go to school. She realized that without Tingting by her side, Bai Manor felt like it was filled with an invisible pressure, making every nerve in her body feel like a taut string, ready to snap with just a little more force.

  She went to school, but after just two lessons, Bai Manor called for her. She picked up the receiver, and to her surprise, it was Bai Peiwen.

  "Miss Fang?" he asked, his voice somewhat urgent.

  "Yes."

  "Oh," he sighed in relief. "I thought you..."

  "What?"

  "Oh, never mind." His voice regained its energy, though there was an underlying excitement in his tone. What made his voice sound so enthusiastic? "Just come back early this afternoon, okay?"

  "I'll come back with Tingting. Is—is there something wrong?"

  "Oh, no, nothing," he replied quickly.

  After hanging up the phone, Fang Siying felt utterly confused, disoriented, and anxious.