Song Yuelan once thought that all her tenderness in this life was tied to Fu Huaishen, the third young master of the Fu family.
At the spring banquet that year, she hid behind the carved pillars and watched him playing chess with a smile. From then on, her heart was like a begonia in front of the court, and she had been celebrating him for three years. It wasn't until news of Fu Huaishen's marriage to Jiang Zhitang, the eldest daughter of the Jiang family, came that she was shocked to realize that those unspoken secrets would eventually turn into a faded red in the depths of Bluestone Alley along with the plum rain in the 26th year of the Republic of China.
Until he met Lu Shiyue, the second son of the Lu family who had frost and snow in his eyes at the wedding banquet. He stood in the shadow of the corridor, looking at the back of Jiang Zhitang in his wedding dress. The smile on his lips was as warm as jade, but his knuckles clenched the white porcelain cup until it turned blue.
"Miss Song also came to pay homage to her dead infatuation?"
When he turned around, the ice in his eyes had turned into spring water, and he handed a warm jasmine tablet to her trembling fingertips. The rain outside the eaves was as thick as sorrow. The bones of his hand holding the umbrella were clearly defined, but the umbrella surface was quietly tilted three-quarters towards her.
When they met in troubled times, they were two frustrated people licking each other's wounds, but when Lu Shiyue held the lamp in the middle of the night to proofread her translation, when he protected her behind him in the hail of bullets, and when he touched the wet corners of her eyes with his calloused fingertips, Song Yuelan was shocked to realize that this gentle and polite Lu Ershao had unknowingly kneaded the rest of her life into the warmth of his palm.
"Miss Song." He pressed her against the carved medicine cabinet and rubbed the cinnabar mole behind her ear with the tip of his nose. His breath burned her back and trembled. "Did you know that all your newspaper articles in the past three years are hidden in my study?"
Then the war raged for three months, and he carved out a pure land for her in the attic in the enemy-occupied area. The newly folded crabapple in the celadon vase is still stained with morning dew, and the melody of "Tuberose" on the gramophone is lingering.
It turned out that the most heartbreaking love words were when he protected her under his body during the Japanese bombing and whispered in her ear: "I will only fight for this life, and I will not gamble on the next life."
Motto: The right people will eventually meet each other
