Chapter 38: Tell Me, Who Is in Geneva?

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At seven that evening, Zhou Jinghuai’s car arrived at the Zhou family estate.

As the car came to a stop, the old master’s attendant hurried over and opened the door, smiling as he said, “The old master is in quite a temper this time! Young Master Jinghuai, you’ll have to be patient with him. Don’t add fuel to the fire.”

Zhou Jinghuai stepped out, closed the door behind him, and followed the man inside.

Old Master Zhou received him in the study.

In the antique, sandalwood-scented room, candlelight flickered dimly. The moment Zhou Jinghuai entered, the old master gave a cold snort.

“So our great romantic has finally come home. Shall I have flowers brought in and line everyone up to welcome you?”

Zhou Jinghuai did not dare answer back. He lowered his head and stood quietly.

“Grandfather.”

Old Master Zhou sat drinking tea, his aged eyes sweeping over his grandson like an eagle’s. After a moment, he said to the attendant beside him, “Bring me the cane. I’m going to enforce family discipline.”

As soon as the words fell, Mrs. Zhou’s cries rang out from outside.

Irritated, the old master walked over and shut the door. When he turned back, he looked at Zhou Jinghuai.

“Take it off, my second young master.”

Zhou Jinghuai’s Adam’s apple moved, but he obediently removed his overcoat, followed by his black shirt.

“The shirt can’t get dirty,” he said. “A-Wu bought it for me.”

“Your wife bought it?” Old Master Zhou looked over his grandson’s fine physique and sneered. “Then she truly wasted her sincerity on a dog. Beating you now is the perfect way to vent her anger for her.”

A cane as thick as a thumb was handed over. It fit perfectly in the old man’s grip.

Old Master Zhou struck without mercy, lashing Zhou Jinghuai’s back with all his strength. Before long, livid bloody welts rose across his skin, horrifying to behold.

As he beat him, the old master interrogated him.

“Who was in Geneva? Who made you lose your soul there?”

Zhou Jinghuai knelt in silence.

The angrier the old master became, the harder he struck.

Mrs. Zhou’s sharp cries echoed from outside the study, but the old master ignored them completely. He cursed her for being utterly without principles and told her to leave at once, or he would beat her son to death that very day.

Old Master Zhou was old. After a short while, he was already panting heavily from exhaustion, but his tongue remained sharp.

Pointing at Zhou Jinghuai, he raged:

“Jinghuai, people have never been able to have everything. Where do you think all these perfect endings come from?”

“Back then, you had to choose between that woman and power. You chose power. Now, between that woman and Ye Wu, you’ve chosen her again. Tell me yourself—have you ever been fair to Ye Wu?”

“I know what you’ll say. Love was never fair to begin with. Then let me ask you this: have you slept with your wife or not? If you truly loved that woman so deeply, how could you have become husband and wife with Ye Wu? Search your own heart and ask yourself—when you and your wife appeared together everywhere, did you truly feel nothing? Not even the slightest stirring of affection?”

…

Bright red blood seeped from Zhou Jinghuai’s back, drop by drop sinking into the thick carpet. Before long, a small patch had darkened beneath him.

He remained stubbornly silent.

His grandfather’s words shook him. He could not help remembering the past—remembering how he had chosen Ye Wu all those years ago.

Autumn leaves had turned golden, and Ye Wu had looked radiant in a white dress.

She possessed a vigorous vitality, like the most resilient blade of grass.

That year, Zhou Jinghuai had loved someone deeply. He envied Ye Wu’s vitality and thought that if the woman he loved could be as spirited as Ye Wu, how wonderful it would be.

Sadly, life had other plans.

Later, he had easily captured Ye Wu’s heart.

After they married, Ye Wu stopped wearing white dresses. She changed into cold, tailored suits and accompanied him to all kinds of business functions. She became the perfect daughter-in-law of the Zhou family.

Zhou Jinghuai remained silent.

The old master was wise. He felt that his grandson might still be saved.

“Jinghuai, think carefully! Love isn’t a fixed asset that simply sits there, unmoving. People’s hearts can change.”

Zhou Jinghuai clenched his teeth.

“Your reprimand is deserved, Grandfather.”

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Old Master Zhou grew angry again.

“Get up. Go to the hospital and atone for your sins! Your wife won’t forgive you easily. With all her advantages, why should she stay by your side? What exactly do you have going for you? Besides a little dirty money, what other virtues do you possess? This face of yours? Ha! There are plenty of handsome young actors these days. Try using your brain for once!”

Zhou Jinghuai nodded.

He struggled to rise, and the old master’s attendant reached out to support him.

“Careful, Young Master Jinghuai.”

Zhou Jinghuai brushed him aside and said calmly, “It’s only a minor injury.”

Old Master Zhou snorted.

“You’re rather tough, aren’t you?”

Zhou Jinghuai said nothing. Supporting himself, he slowly wiped the blood from his body before putting the black shirt back on.

Halfway through dressing, Mrs. Zhou burst into the room.

The moment she saw the bloody marks across Zhou Jinghuai’s back, she froze. Then she let out a piercing cry.

“Jinghuai!”

Old Master Zhou’s expression darkened. A teacup crashed to the floor.

“Are you calling for the dead?”

…

Late that night, Zhou Jinghuai returned to the hospital.

After parking, he sat in the car and smoked a cigarette before getting out. The hospital was especially quiet at night, utterly still and soundless, with an eerie, bone-chilling atmosphere.

Zhou Jinghuai had brought Ye Wu the porridge she loved. But when he reached the intensive care unit, Ye Wu was nowhere to be found. Only the aunt she had hired remained there.

Aunt Wu told him, “Miss Ye went to the Buddhist temple to make a vow. She’s been gone for about an hour.”

She wiped away a tear.

“Miss Ye has no other choice. She can only hope that Heaven will show mercy. She’s suffering terribly inside. Someone like you, son-in-law, could never understand.”

Without stopping to think, Zhou Jinghuai hurried to Lingmiao Temple.

Lingmiao Temple stood at the northernmost edge of the capital. It was solemn and imposing, and cars could drive all the way up the mountain.

When Zhou Jinghuai arrived, a young monk led him to the main hall. He pushed open the doors.

The mountain wind howled. Dressed in plain clothes, Ye Wu knelt before the Buddha. With every line of scripture she recited, she reverently struck her forehead against the ground.

Thud.

Again and again, the sound echoed through the hall.

No one knew how many times Ye Wu had bowed. Blood stained her fair, smooth forehead.

Yet she seemed completely unaware of it.

She begged the gods and Buddhas above to take pity on her and leave her grandmother in this world for a few more years. Every selfish wish and delusion, she would bear alone—even if it cost her everything.

Zhou Jinghuai called out painfully, “Ye Wu.”

He tried to approach, but Ye Wu stopped him softly.

“Don’t come over. Zhou Jinghuai, don’t come over. I’m afraid your filthy body will offend the Buddha and defile this sacred hall.”

Zhou Jinghuai’s face turned deathly pale.

There was no cruelty more devastating than striking directly at the heart.

He did not enter.

He stood quietly outside the main hall, waiting for Ye Wu. He watched as she knelt before the Buddha and reverently struck her head against the floor again and again.

Once, then again. Over and over…

…

At midnight, a thin mist rose through the mountains, and the temple bells began to toll.

Ye Wu had completed five hundred bows.

After burning the scripture she had written, she swayed as she rose. The instant she stood, she nearly fell.

Zhou Jinghuai stepped forward and caught her.

He had thought Ye Wu would push him away in disgust. Unexpectedly, she did not. Instead, she said faintly, “Let’s go back.”

An indescribable feeling spread through Zhou Jinghuai, like the return of something precious he had lost. Ye Wu was willing to speak to him again.

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Outside the main hall stood a Beijing-plated Maybach, its polished body gleaming with expensive brilliance.

Ye Wu walked over and ran her fingers over the car.

In a low voice, she murmured, “So this is the car you drove.”

Zhou Jinghuai said yes.

He helped her into the car. As he fastened her seat belt, he spoke gently.

“I went back to the old house and changed cars. I’ll take you to the hospital. We’ll wait together for your grandmother to wake up.”

Ye Wu stared straight at him.

“Do you really think Grandma will wake up?”

Zhou Jinghuai’s Adam’s apple moved.

“She will. My A-Wu knelt before the gods and Buddhas so many times for her.”

He reached out, intending to wipe the blood from Ye Wu’s forehead.

Ye Wu turned her face away and said coldly, “I want to go to Yinjiang. Zhou Jinghuai, will you take me there?”

Zhou Jinghuai turned to look at her.

She was acting strangely, but he could not refuse her.

A moment later, he pressed down on the accelerator and drove toward Yinjiang.

It was deep into the night, and the wind raced past them.

Yinjiang was where Zhou Jinghuai had proposed to Ye Wu. The sunset there was famous, and it was where Zhou Jinghuai had once told her that, in his heart, his A-Wu mattered most.

After more than half an hour, the road widened. The riverside stretched into endless darkness.

The same place. The same car. The same man.

Ye Wu sat quietly, gazing into the night ahead.

In a subdued voice, she said, “Zhou Jinghuai, this place holds our happiest memories. This car was practically half our home. You truly understand how to manipulate people. You always drive this car to drag me back into the past, but those memories are bloody for me. And you don’t care in the slightest.”

“The bottom line of love is family. But Zhou Jinghuai, between us, even that bottom line is gone.”

“Get out.”

…

Zhou Jinghuai frowned.

Ye Wu’s voice grew even colder.

“Zhou Jinghuai, get out.”

Afraid of provoking her, Zhou Jinghuai could only leave the car. He thought Ye Wu would drive away, but she got out as well.

The river roared, its furious tide surging against the shore.

A flame rose in Ye Wu’s hand. She set her handbag alight, threw it into the cabin of the Maybach, and slammed the door shut.

The flames quickly licked across the leather interior. In moments, the car was engulfed in fire. The blaze tore through the darkness and shot toward the heavens, reddening half the night sky.

Ye Wu had set the car on fire.

Zhou Jinghuai stood frozen, utterly shaken.

Ye Wu’s love. Ye Wu’s hatred.

Zhou Jinghuai, from this moment on, there would be no love left for you—only hatred.

The fire illuminated Ye Wu’s face. She looked at her husband through a veil of tears, yet she was smiling.

“Zhou Jinghuai, I wish you and Bai Qianqian a lifetime together, tangled in endless affection. Stop ruining other people’s lives.”

Zhou Jinghuai’s face went white.

For the last time, Ye Wu looked at the man she had once loved deeply. Without a trace of reluctance, she turned and walked away.

Two steps later, she collapsed straight to the ground.

Ye Wu had fainted.

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