Chapter 6 — I Never Made It to Nam Thanh With You

A look of disappointment settled upon his features. In the past, this expression was what I feared most. It felt as though I had committed some unforgivable transgression. Whenever he wore that look, I would immediately turn inward, dissecting my own soul for faults. Was I being too impulsive? Was I not kind enough? Had I made things difficult for him? But now, all I felt was a cold, sharp sense of ridicule. What right did the very person who constantly forced me into impossible situations have to feel disappointed in me?

Gu Yanli gritted his teeth, his voice dropping to a low, warning rumble. "If you are angry because I helped her with her paperwork last night, then aim your resentment at me. There is no need to jeopardize her future just to vent your spleen."

"Since when did her future become my responsibility?" I replied, my voice steady.

"You are clearly in a position to help her."

"And I also have every right to refuse."

He stared at me, his eyes burning with disbelief. "Jian Yue, you were never like this before."

I nodded slowly. "You are right. That is why I have changed."

Gu Yanli clearly failed to grasp the weight of my words. He merely assumed I was still caught in the throes of a childish tantrum. "We will speak again once you have calmed down." With that, he turned on his heel and walked downstairs without a backward glance. It was his signature tactic. Whenever I failed to conform to his expectations, he would simply ice me out. In my previous life, the longest he went without speaking a word to me was three months. In the end, it was always me, standing in the pouring rain all night, waiting to bow my head and apologize. But alas, I would not be playing the supplicant this time.

I returned to the classroom to retrieve my bag. A new message from Song Wannin blinked on my phone screen. "Jian Yue, I know you do not like me," it read. "But the summer camp is truly important to me. Your family has so many resources; why must you insist on competing with me this time?"

I did not reply. Instead, I blocked her immediately. She was not oblivious to reason; she simply operated under the assumption that it was easier to scavenge from me than to earn things for herself.

Leaving the school, I made my way to the Te Yue Pavilion. The historic estate was in the final stages of being furnished for the opening gala, which was only eleven days away. Workers drifted in and out, their movements echoing through the halls. The moon-shaped window in the West Pavilion had been fully restored; sunlight streamed through the circular frame, casting a flawless, luminous pool onto the blue stone floor. This was the design I had drafted when I was fifteen.

During his lifetime, my grandfather had loved this place most of all. He used to say that restoring the old was not about forcing things back to their original state, but about allowing the old things to continue living. In my past life, I had always been obsessed with mending my relationship with Gu Yanli. I spent my time patching cracks and hiding the decay, only to eventually realize that some things were rotten to the core. No amount of repair could make them worth inhabiting.

I headed straight to the study in the east wing, where my original drafts and field journals were kept. On the third shelf sat a wooden cabinet, carefully locked. I kept the key with me at all times. I turned it and pulled the door open, only to find the cabinet half-empty. Three of my annual survey sketchbooks were gone. Two volumes of my field photo albums were missing. Even the small red wooden box containing my grandmother’s moon-shaped hairpin had vanished.

I stood before the empty shelf, my expression hardening into frost. Sister Wang, the woman in charge of the exhibition arrangements, happened to pass by the door. I called out to her. "Sister Wang, who took the items from this cabinet?"

She looked momentarily startled. "Young Master Gu took them. He said Miss Song needed extra documentation for her school application, so he borrowed them for a few days."

"And the hairpin? Did he take that too?"

"Yes," Sister Wang said with a naive smile. "Miss Song wanted to take a series of portraits in the West Pavilion today. Young Master Gu said that the hairpin would suit her perfectly."

Beyond the window, the sound of Song Wannin’s laughter drifted into the room. I turned my head to look outside.