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墨書 Inktalez
Su Xiaonan had a dream.
In the dream, she wore a flowing crimson gown with wide sleeves, the long hem swaying gracefully with her movements, resembling a vibrant flower blooming under the moonlight.
She sat quietly beneath a laurel tree, her delicate fingers gently plucking the strings of a zither, playing a haunting melody of "Chang Xiang Si."
The music was filled with sorrow and longing, as if it were expressing endless yearning and melancholy.
Shen Mozui stood silently behind her, holding a jade flute, harmonizing with the sound of the instrument. A gentle smile graced his face, reminiscent of the warm sun in spring—bright and comforting.
As she slightly turned her head, she caught a glimpse of his handsome profile, his lips curving into an enchanting smile.
When the melody came to an end, its lingering notes hung in the air.
She heard him softly call her name, "Wan'er..." His voice was tender and affectionate, imbued with deep affection.
In an instant, dust swirled around them, and a fierce wind howled, its sound filled with sorrow. His face began to crack like clay, slowly shattering into countless pieces.
Only that heartfelt call echoed in the eerie wind, "Wan'er, Wan'er..."
With a startled cry, Su Xiaonan jolted awake from her dream. Her nightgown was soaked with cold sweat, clinging tightly to her body.
She looked around in panic, her gaze darting across the familiar bookshelf, square table, armchair, and vanity... Yes, she was indeed in her own room.
Turning to the window, she noticed that the sun had already set in the west, painting the sky in shades of orange and red.
What was supposed to be just a short nap had somehow turned into an evening slumber.
Su Xiaonan sat up, clutching the blanket, the fear from her dream still vivid in her mind, causing her heart to race in her chest.
Suddenly, a knock on the door startled her again, and she nearly screamed, "Who’s out there?!"
"Xiaonan, it's me." Hearing Shen Mozui's voice brought tears to her eyes; it sounded filled with endless grievance and reliance.
Shen Mozui entered with a food box and placed it on the table.
Noticing her frightened expression, he quickly asked with concern, "Why do you look so pale?"
"I had a nightmare..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible. She couldn't bring herself to meet his worried gaze, as if the terror from the dream still lingered.
"It was just a dream; there's no need to be so scared."
He chuckled softly, reaching out to gently ruffle her slightly damp hair, his touch filled with affection. "You're such a child."
"I'm not a child!"
She felt inexplicably irritated by those words, like a kitten whose tail had been stepped on. Her emotions flared up as she swatted away his comforting gesture. "I've already had my coming-of-age ceremony; I can get married now!"
Shen Mozui's hand froze awkwardly in mid-air, his fingers instinctively curling slightly. He could only follow her lead and ask in return, "So you really want to get married? Does that mean you have someone in mind?"
His attempt to change the subject did little to ease the tense atmosphere; it felt as if the air had frozen over, becoming even more suffocating.
Su Xiaonan stared at him expressionlessly, locking her gaze onto his eyes as she asked each word deliberately, "Do you really want me to get married?"
Shen Mozui felt uneasy under her piercing gaze, his eyes began to dart away, and he turned his head slightly in a fluster, pretending to examine the furnishings in the room, trying to mask his inner turmoil.
She stared at him intently, as if trying to see right through him.
Yet, with a pang of sadness, she noticed that at just over thirty, there were already fine lines at the corners of his eyes—marks left by time that pierced her heart.
“Old man…” she spoke in a hushed voice, her tone choked with emotion. “You have wrinkles.”
He was startled and grabbed her hand that had reached up to touch the corner of his eye. Such an expression, such an action, should not have occurred; it felt like crossing a forbidden line.
He forced a self-deprecating smile, tinged with bitterness, and subtly pressed her hand down. “My ‘daughter’ is getting married. How could I not grow old…”
Yes, it was just like that.
She was Wan'er’s daughter; naturally… he should regard her as his daughter. — Only as a daughter.
Shen Mozui took out the steaming dishes from the food box one by one and arranged them neatly, placing a pair of ivory chopsticks beside them.
“You slept soundly, so I didn’t wake you for dinner. I had Zhen Niang save some of your favorite dishes for you and instructed the servants to prepare hot water. After you eat, take a medicinal bath. You’re too tired.”
But he didn’t know whether it was physical exhaustion or emotional fatigue.
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