Chapter Twenty: Memories

Qin Changqing found Leng Zheng when she was three years old.

At that time, Leng Zheng’s parents were in the midst of a bitter divorce, each fighting over her younger sister, Leng Suxue. Her parents both saw her as a cold, emotionless child—a strange little creature who never cried or made a fuss since birth. They’d even had her fortune told, and the news was grim: she was a bringer of misfortune. Thus, they showed her no affection.

In the end, her mother took Leng Suxue, while her father, unwilling to keep her, abandoned her in the mountains, leaving her to fend for herself.

She survived alone in a cave for three days and nights. On the fourth day, Qin Changqing and his wife discovered her and brought her back to the Qin family home. After her wounds were treated by the doctor, she was sent to the back courtyard.

In fact, there were many children in the Qin household’s back courtyard who had been abandoned by their parents. But Leng Zheng quickly stood out among them—not for her looks, nor for her age, but for her talent.

She was the smallest, thinnest, and shortest among them, yet she easily outwitted the strongest with nothing but her intellect.

This caught the attention of Su Lingxia, who summoned her for a conversation. From that day on, Su Lingxia personally taught Leng Zheng, imparting all manner of new knowledge.

In the blink of an eye, the scene shifted.

“Can you find out who set the fire?” Cheng Yunting sat at Leng Zheng’s bedside, tightly holding the small hand of his girl. She was now covered in burns, her life hanging by a thread...

“Don’t worry, I have my suspicions. My sister’s enemies are few, and to leave her lying here so quietly, they must have threatened her by targeting someone she loved,” Qin Xiaonan replied, standing at her bedside with a look of deep concern.

“Alright. But once you find out who it was, don’t act yet. Leave it to me,” Cheng Yunting said, his voice cold as he gently caressed Leng Zheng’s face.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

“Mm.”

After everyone had gone, Cheng Yunting could no longer contain the turmoil in his heart.

“Xiao Zheng... why are you so foolish? I’m not worth this...” He sat by her bed, gently holding her bandaged hand, his voice trembling with the threat of tears but still soft, “Do you remember when you promised, as children, that when we grew up we’d go see snow at the Forbidden City together, and watch the stars at night? You said you were too young then and told me to wait a little longer...”

“Xiao Zheng, I’m sorry...” Cheng Yunting whispered, gently wrapping the scars on her wrists. She had just taken sleeping pills and drifted off to sleep.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped her wrists with care.

A reckless impulse seized him, but with Xiao Zheng so ill in bed, it simply wasn’t possible. Besides, he was about to leave for England—what would it mean if she became pregnant at such a time?

He couldn’t be so selfish as to want her by his side forever. She had family, friends, people who cared for her—she didn’t belong to just one person.

Perhaps he truly was being reckless.

“Xiao Zheng, your stomach is weak, you can’t eat spicy food; you must take care of yourself. Don’t rely on sleeping pills, they’re bad for your health.” He gently wiped her arms. “You heartless girl, don’t forget me and fall into someone else’s arms. And stop hurting yourself, it breaks my heart...”

With reddened eyes, Cheng Yunting murmured on and on, urging her to take care of herself.

“Xiao Zheng, will you wait for me to come back? When I return, I’ll marry you.” He kissed her forehead once more, slipped a ring onto her finger, and left with great reluctance.

He went to the study, then climbed out onto the balcony near Leng Zheng’s home, removed her window, and climbed inside.

He rushed downstairs, calling, “Xiao Zheng! Xiao Zheng!”

In the living room, he saw her sitting there drinking, and his heart finally eased.

“You... why are you here?” Leng Zheng looked at him, tipsy and incredulous. “Why did you come back...”

“Xiao Zheng, you’re drunk.” He lifted her and set her gently on the sofa. “Be good, I’ll cook you some hangover soup. Get some sleep—it’s already four in the morning.”

“No, I’m not drunk. I’m perfectly sober...” She pushed his hands away. “Go away, I don’t want you anymore...”

Her words stabbed at Cheng Yunting’s heart like a knife that could never be removed. Still, he remained gentle. “Just have the hangover soup. At least you’ll feel better when you wake up. I’ll leave after you drink it.”

Leng Zheng shook her head, burying her face in his shoulder, and suddenly began to cry.

Seeing her tears, he panicked, cupping her face and wiping her cheeks. “Don’t cry, Xiao Zheng. I’ll leave, alright?”

She fell silent. Just as he was about to get up, she grabbed hold of him.

“Don’t go. Are you going to leave for months again, like before?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

He froze. She continued, “If you must go, then go quietly. Don’t let me know.”

She let him go, sitting obediently on the sofa, voice soft, “Go... If you must, do it cleanly. Don’t let me know...”

Cheng Yunting hugged her tightly, refusing to move.

“If you’re going to leave, then do it completely. Don’t leave me with false hope!” she cried, struggling, eyes brimming with tears. “Do you know how I got through these last four months...”

“I’m not leaving, Xiao Zheng. I’m not. I’ll stay by your side forever.” He held her tightly, even this grown man’s eyes reddening.

She pulled away, gazed straight at him, and steadied her breath.

After a moment, she spoke, “For the past four months, I barely slept. I spent every day in insomnia, hoping, waiting for you to come back. I imagined that if you hadn’t left, we’d already be engaged by now. But that was only a fantasy.”

Cheng Yunting held her, heart aching.

“I wanted to die, but I thought of you—I just wanted to see you one last time, even just once.” Her voice was filled with pain. “I thought I couldn’t hold on, that I’d never see you in this life. These months have been so overwhelming…”

She curled into his arms, her makeup gone, leaving only beauty and exhaustion.

Perhaps it was being in the arms of the one she loved, or perhaps the alcohol, but she poured out all her heart.

“Please don’t go again. This constant uncertainty is suffocating… On countless nights, I wished on the stars for your quick return, but they didn’t listen…”

“Great eras need beauty for adornment; troubled times need beauty as scapegoats…”

“All began with a flutter of the heart, and ended in heartache. Perhaps only at the time 25:61:61 on the 32nd day of the 13th month, will you truly belong to me.”

“But there is no thirteenth month. No thirty-second day, no 25:61:61… So you have never belonged to me…”

‘Wishing you a brilliant future is too much of a lie. Instead, I hope you are always surrounded by admirers but no one sincere. I hope you think of my kindness day and night…’

“As you wish…”

“Xiao Zheng!”

In the first life, Leng Zheng was an immortal fairy, Cheng Yunting a mortal. A deity and a human, destined never to be together. In the end, the fairy took her own life in the mortal’s arms.

In the second life, Leng Zheng was a valiant general, Cheng Yunting a royal prince. The prince loved the general, and she loved him in return. But fate intervened—word of her affection reached the enemy nation, who captured the prince and used him to force the general’s surrender. She fought her way into the enemy camp, but the enemy general continued to threaten her with Cheng Yunting’s life, so she was forced to yield.

In the third life, Leng Zheng was a carefree noblewoman, a princess of the Ming dynasty; Cheng Yunting was a general. The princess could not escape the fate of a political marriage, even though she and the general loved each other. She was the only suitable candidate for alliance through marriage, and the general, unwilling to accept it, waged war but was ultimately defeated. The princess, unwilling to marry, eventually hanged herself.

Three lifetimes, all ending in sorrow. Who could say whether this life would be a blessing or a curse…

“Oh? Is the little troublemaker here again? God Zheng?” Cheng Yunting pinned her—though not against the wall—and smiled.

“No… mm…” she tried to protest, but her words were swallowed by his kiss.

“Your first kiss is mine. I’ll take responsibility.” After a while, he released her and carried her to the sofa.

Leng Zheng was still a little dizzy, quietly curling up in his arms.

“If people saw the usually aloof you looking so delicate and snuggling in my arms, what would they think?” Cheng Yunting teased.

“Cheng Yunting!” Leng Zheng punched him, making him wince, but it didn’t change his mischievous ways.

“Oh! The little one is shy.” He continued to tease.

“You!” She tried to hit him again, but he silenced her with another kiss.

When he finally let go, she was left breathless, but he didn’t stop, leaving a mark on her neck.

“Xiao Zheng, you’re mine,” he whispered, holding her tightly, hiding the crimson in his eyes. “Forever and ever.”

“Mm,” she murmured, gradually falling asleep in his embrace.

“She’s had a long day, better not torment her anymore,” he chuckled quietly.

He carried her to the car and drove home.

Back home, even in sleep, Leng Zheng was restless. Though nothing happened between them, the taste of sweetness was enough to leave her wanting more. After settling her in, he slipped away to the bathroom for a shower.

“I want to know everything about Xiao Zheng, especially what she’s been through these past months,” Cheng Yunting said, gently wiping the sweat from her brow, though his tone toward her cousin was far less gentle.

“Alright.” Qin Yu nodded. “She’s not my blood sister, but she inherited the Qin and Su families’ deep devotion. Once she chooses someone, it’s for life. At her coming-of-age banquet, she saved you, fell for you at first sight, and you were the same.

You know, on the night you left four months ago, she didn’t sleep at all. She’s adept at hiding her feelings, never letting anyone see inside her heart—not even us, except you.

After you left, her carefully managed emotions collapsed. What might have become mild depression instead worsened to severe. She was sleepless, unable to eat—she’d vomit whatever she managed to swallow. Emotional breakdowns became routine.

We brothers took turns watching over her at night, and Chu Yuxiu stayed with her constantly.

She’s been through so much. She’s utterly disappointed in everything. She wants to die, but she’s also afraid of dying.

She wants to die because she can’t bear the endless torment and sleepless nights. She’s afraid to die because she wants to see you one last time.

In truth, she’s been waiting for you, holding on for you. Everyone said you wouldn’t come back, but she waited anyway, desperately wanting to see you.

You’ll never truly know how much she suffered. At her worst, she went ten days without sleep, fainting on the eleventh. At best, she slept once every three days, and only after drinking herself into a hospital with a bleeding stomach. There were times she went a week, four days, and so on without sleep.

She couldn’t keep anything down—not even porridge or milk. In the end, intravenous nutrition was all that kept her alive. Her stomach is ruined, but she loves to drink, even though it always leads to bleeding…”

“She spent these four months in a daze, her soul seeming to drift far from her body…”

“Ah!”

The agony of writer’s block—you’ll never understand. My goodness, I’m stuck badly this time. I revised the previous chapter out of sequence, so naturally, this one is out of sequence too. This is just a memory.

Xiao Zheng’s experiences are heartbreaking. At times I felt like the worst kind of stepmother.

Recently, while surfing on Douyin, what touched me most about this sports meet wasn’t the hardworking athletes, but the referees with disabilities, still working steadfastly in their roles.

Come, let’s shout together: Go China! China forever!

That’s all for now—see you tomorrow.