TYSUF – Chapter 34 Flowing Like Water Eastward (1)

Fu Tongwen told her to leave only after the New Year, to leave a memory behind.

But from that day on, except for Tan Qingxiang who often came back to collect Third Master’s clothes, utensils, and books, he no longer appeared.

He had arranged a side room for her, but Shen Xi didn’t want to go.

She slept on the couch in the study. Here were the newspapers and books he had read in the past — in English, Japanese, and Chinese. In the corner of the desk was a blue ink bottle that was nearly empty but hadn’t been replaced yet. Shen Xi leaned on the desk, staring at the ink bottle, realizing he was still a frugal man. One night she stayed up until dawn, going through all the editions of the Ta Kung Pao on the lowest shelf of his bookcase, and found the letters she had sent him were placed underneath those newspapers, bundled neatly with strings, labeled “Shen Xi New York.” Other people’s letters were also bundled the same way, labeled with their names and the cities they were from. She squatted in the corner between the bookshelf and the wall, looking at those unfamiliar names and letters. The total of all the others’ letters didn’t compare to the number of hers alone.

At that time, to him, she was… just a loyal descendant far away overseas.

“Miss Shen, if you’re going to sit, you should put something under you,” the maid said, adding a warming brazier.

Shen Xi took one of his study notes, went to the edge of the couch, took off her clothes, and slipped under the quilt.

The maids and servants in this courtyard had seen how close Miss Shen and Third Master used to be, but now, since his release, Third Master’s home was spread across Guanghe Tower, Shaanxi Alley, and Shihuaguan, and he no longer returned to this courtyard. “What was once like a perfect moonlit night and blossoming flowers, love without suspicion — now that deep affection has turned faint, like morning dew drying by evening.” A servant who had read two books came to this conclusion.

On New Year’s Eve night, the Fifth Young Master hurried back to the capital, arriving under the stars and moonlight, and first came to visit Fu Tongwen. Upon entering the house, he only saw Shen Xi sitting by the desk, propping her chin, dazed, with several small dishes before her, lacking any festive New Year’s atmosphere.

Shen Xi picked up her chopsticks and poked at the food. The person in front of her called out: “Sister-in-law.”

She absentmindedly looked up, and on the Fifth Young Master’s shoulder was snow. “Is it snowing?” she heard herself ask.

The Fifth Young Master awkwardly exchanged a few greetings, not daring to ask about Shen Xi deeply. After taking his leave, he asked the maid in the courtyard for the background. When he asked, Shen Xi was sitting by the window and vaguely heard some of it. The Fifth Young Master, inexperienced in matters of love, knew that his Third Brother was heartless, and sighed deeply for a long while: “Third Brother, oh Third Brother. The seven emotions and six desires, wine, women, wealth, and anger — he still can’t get over it…” and could say no more.

Ordinary people would stand outside the window to eavesdrop; she was inside, listening to people outside.

Shen Xi felt low and lay back under the quilt. Her face pressed against the pillow, she dozed off confusedly, but because she held the hope “he will come back,” her sleep was very troubled. In her dream, she lived through all her childhood and youth again, the twenty-some years of dreams ended, her head splitting with pain. She looked at the floor clock; only three hours had passed with its ticking.

She took a breath and sat up, draping her clothes around her.

She had never cried in front of servants before, but on New Year’s Eve, the homesickness was heavy, and the longing for him was heavier still.

Next to the desk was the suitcase she had brought when she arrived, packed and neat, with a letter tucked inside her clothes and a check with Fu Tongwen’s signature on it. A few days earlier, Tan Qingxiang had given it to her: “Tongwen knows you don’t want to take it, keep it for emergencies. After a couple of years when you have your own savings, send it back to him.” Tan Qingxiang was urging her to keep money for her own protection. She understood the good intentions and slipped the check into a book.

She dully watched the clock again, then paced for another ten minutes.

Dawn was approaching.

Since she couldn’t sleep, she got up, changed into the dress she planned to wear the next day, and finally sat at his desk. She took a letter paper from the drawer and carefully wrote him a letter, word by word. When she finished the letter, she put away the fountain pen, glanced at the blue ink bottle again — after these days, she had grown attached to it — so she quietly wrapped it in the letter paper and put it into the suitcase.

Just as she locked the suitcase, someone knocked on the doorframe outside the curtain: “Are you awake?”

It was Tan Qingxiang.

Had Fu Tongwen come back too? Was he finally here to see her off?

Shen Xi hurriedly stood up: “Come in quickly.”

She hadn’t eaten or slept well these days, and suddenly standing up, a white blur passed before her eyes. She grabbed the desk to steady herself and breathed a little heavily.

Tan Qingxiang came in, his shoes and clothes covered with snow. Seeing Shen Xi’s flushed face, he came over to her. From those moist eyes, all he saw was disappointment.

“Are you the only one who came back?” She saw no movement outside, and her heart dropped straight down.

“Yes. But I came to say something I shouldn’t say and to take you to a place you shouldn’t go.”

Shen Xi didn’t understand.

“He’s been sick all these days. He didn’t want you to know, so he stayed at the Shihua Pavilion. But I know you two — if you don’t see each other, the regret left in your heart will be too great,” Tan Qingxiang said in a low voice. “I’ll take you to the Shihua Pavilion under the pretense of a medical visit for a young lady. It’s a gynecological illness, which I’m not suited to treat, and she doesn’t want to go to the hospital. Before you leave, you can do me a personal favor and examine her.”

He went on, “This excuse isn’t clever, but it’s enough to get you there, and he won’t say anything.”

Tan Qingxiang was someone who had been through such things and was doing what he thought was right.

Leaning against the desk, Shen Xi felt her throat tighten again and again. Her heart, which had fallen to the eighteenth layer of hell, seemed to be fished up by an unseen hand and then thrown into a pot of boiling oil to be fried… When a person feels bad, it’s not just an internal sensation — even the hands, feet, and body feel uncomfortable.

Seeing her unnaturally flushed face, Tan Qingxiang asked, “You’re not sick too, are you?”

She shook her head. No, she was very healthy — how could someone who wants to be a doctor not train their body? During her studies, besides studying hard, she ran regularly and rarely caught a cold. But in these few short days, from the little New Year’s Eve until today, she had lost appetite and sleep. A girl in a state of heartbreak would think of the other person at every sight, tormenting her whole being, which showed on her face; she looked much more haggard.

“Wait for me ten minutes,” she said.

It was almost dawn, not much time left to meet.

In front of Tan Qingxiang, Shen Xi quickly finished dressing and grooming. Tan Qingxiang instructed Wan An to quietly bring Shen Miss’s suitcase out. Shen Xi followed him out and told the maid that she was going to diagnose a female friend of the third master. The servants in the courtyard knew about her medical training, but they sighed — rare that the third master would call someone out on New Year’s Eve, and it was for another woman.

Before dawn, Yan Zhi Alley was the quietest.

The usually bustling Yanhua Brothel District had few customers on New Year’s Eve, and it was the morning of the first day of the new year. The rickshaw pullers were with their families, not in a hurry to work. The sky was just turning light; no vehicles were around, only tracks of various depths left by rickshaws and sedan chairs, most covered by snow, highlighting the marks made by their sedan chair.

A maid waited inside the hanging flower gate and led them into a side room.

She had been to this courtyard and side room before. Upon seeing the person again, it was indeed Xiao Su San. Xiao Su San was drinking tea and flashed a smile when she saw the two of them.

Tan Qingxiang stepped forward and introduced, “Miss Shen. This is Su Qing.”

Xiao Su San was a stage name; Su Qing was her real name.

“Nice to meet you,” Su Qing asked, “How long will your Western medical exam take? You can stay here. I’ll have Qingxiang handle the third master.”

“Half an hour, at most, for the checkup,” Shen Xi said.

“Then half an hour it is. That way, the third master can be woken up,” Su Qing said to Tan Qingxiang.

Tan Qingxiang and Su Qing exchanged polite thanks, lingered briefly inside the room, and he said, “I’ll go call him.”

“Mm,” Su Qing smiled.

At first, Tan Qingxiang was a taciturn scholar, but after spending time with him, one could sense his sharpness and aloofness. Yet now, he seemed like a tamed man. Shen Xi recalled what Fu Tongwen said about the person who left a deep mark on Tan Qingxiang. Looking at Su Qing, she also thought about how gentle and polite she was with the second master Fu…

“Did someone mention me in front of you?”

Su Qing was used to mixing with no ordinary people — politicians, scholars, generals — and was skilled at reading people.

Shen Xi admitted, “A bit curious, because I thought of what the third master said about Mr. Tan’s past romantic life.”

Su Qing smiled slightly, as if admitting.

“Tongwen,” Su Qing paused, then corrected herself, “I knew the third master and the fourth master years before Mr. Tan Qingxiang.”

Whenever someone mentioned Fu Tongwen, she would remain silent instinctively.

Seeing Shen Xi not speak, Su Qing smiled a bit awkwardly and tried to ease the mood: “Back in the early days, the third and fourth masters in Beijing city were like young nobles galloping on the main roads, chasing pleasures, youthful wanderers…”

The second half of the phrase she didn’t finish was something like: such reckless youth was hard to restrain and not truly charming.

The way she recited the poem was hesitant, unlike the polished words of a famous courtesan, more like a private conversation in a boudoir, talking about their beloveds. From her words, Shen Xi vaguely caught a glimpse of something and felt she had heard this poem said somewhere before.

But since she and Fu Tongwen were about to part, her mind distracted, she vaguely said, “Mr. Tan is a good person.” It was dry, with no embellishment or example, forcibly shifting the conversation back to Tan Qingxiang.

Su Qing replied, “He’s the best person under heaven.”

The two said no more.

Half an hour later, Tan Qingxiang entered the room, intending to take Shen Xi to the east wing, but Su Qing stopped him: “Let the maid take her over. If you go yourself, and Third Master keeps you there, with the three of them in one room, how can you let them talk privately?”

Tan Qingxiang was caught off guard. Su Qing continued, “It’s just dawn now. You can still rest a bit here with me.”

“I’ll go myself,” Shen Xi hurried to say.

The courtyard was square-shaped; she didn’t recognize which way was east. Tan Qingxiang didn’t want to disturb them, so he didn’t force his way along and stayed in Su Qing’s room. Shen Xi left; the maid had already prepared a hot towel. Tan Qingxiang quickly wiped his hands and face, while Su Qing looked down, starting to take off her jacket. Tan Qingxiang blocked her hands: “Not sleeping anymore.”

Shen Xi didn’t linger and went out into the courtyard, glancing around. Outside the opposite wing room, a servant was waving at her. She went over. The servant didn’t say much and pulled back the curtain.

She hesitated, roused by the servant’s puzzled look, and stepped over the threshold.

In the corner of the wall stood a bronze-cast crane, along with a small bronze tray and an incense burner placed together—indicating it was a poetry clock. Indeed, all visitors here were high officials and nobles, playing with antique, traditional things.

The lamp inside the room was still lit. The electric light in the daylight seemed so unnecessary and pale.

Fu Tongwen was leaning back in a master’s chair, gently tapping an open book against his nose, looking serene and distant.

When the curtain dropped, he looked over: “I originally wanted you to stay for the New Year, but I didn’t expect to be this busy. I owe you an apology.”

Shen Xi played along with a fake smile: “It’s nothing, you’re always busy. I’m used to it by now.”

He smiled, “Qingxiang just told me you are going to diagnose Su Qing’s illness. I didn’t know you also understand gynecology.”

Shen Xi replied, “During my internship at Renji, I was required to rotate through departments. I can handle general examinations.”

Fu Tongwen smiled, closed the book on the coffee table, wrapped himself in a robe, got off the chair, and shuffled over in slippers.

She took out a folded letter from her pocket: “After I leave, you can read this.”

He took it and placed it by the window: “Okay, I’ll read it after you leave.”

Up close, she could smell the scent of his recent bath.

He had just showered and changed clothes. The cuff buttons of his shirt hadn’t been fastened yet; his hair tips were dried, but if you looked carefully, his hair was still slightly damp. Men have this advantage—the hair dries quickly and they can pretend well. She seemed to see that after hearing she was brought here, he probably scolded Mr. Tan a few times, then got up, had someone prepare a bath and iron the shirt… all so she wouldn’t smell the medicine of his prolonged illness, instead presenting a clean, refined appearance.

“When you leave this time, who knows when we’ll meet again,” he said, “If convenient, you can write to me, like before.”

She gave a soft “Mm.”

“Actually, what I want to remind you isn’t much different from when we were in Guangzhou,” he said. “I won’t reply to your letters. Don’t leave your address in the letters. There are many who want to kill me outside, so keep our past all locked in your heart.”

“Also, don’t tell anyone about your background,” these were exactly what he said in Guangzhou, but he added two more sentences, “No matter what happens in the future, anything related to the Shen family, you must come ask me first. Remember, I am the one you should trust most.”

She never doubted this.

The two were silent.

Shen Xi stared at the top button of his shirt and noticed he was undoing it. Every time it was like this—before he kissed her, he’d do this to breathe and move more freely. She was silent, reached out, and helped undo it. Because of this gesture, her hand touched his skin, and it was burning hot. Still feverish but getting up early to bathe…

Mr. Tan and he must have already argued about this. The result was obvious—Fu Tongwen had the upper hand.

The warmth of her fingers near his neck wavered.

“If only there was wine, farewells need wine,” he whispered, pressing his hands beside her arms. After a brief moment of distraction, he bent down and kissed her lips. Knowing this would reveal he was ill, he still couldn’t control himself. He was sick and dizzy, biting her with more force. Realizing it, he gasped, then let her go.

Shen Xi’s eyes were red as she looked at him, about to speak.

He bent down again, kissing her once more.

If he had lived a life of pleasure, it was only in his youth—an elegant, slender young man enjoying immense wealth and reading the classics. Later, studying abroad with Tongxuan, looked down on by foreigners, he still persisted and finished. Returning home with a bright future, but facing a dark national situation, he never again truly enjoyed happiness.

Though feverish and semi-conscious, he kept kissing Shen Xi. His hands moved from her shoulders to her face, touching her skin, only then realizing his hands were dangerously hot. Leaving her lips, his face brushed hers as he whispered for a long time: “Third Brother’s words are true.”

His body for the country, his heart for you.

Tears flooded Shen Xi’s eyes: “I know, I know…”

He was telling her she had not loved him wrongly.

She wiped her tears but before she could clean more, his lips met hers again. This was the third time he kissed her.

Shen Xi felt as if the sky had fallen, a roaring thunder in her ears, everything black before her eyes. The blood in her body surged like a raging torrent, the flowing water rushing mercilessly through her, washing away the days and nights, every moment swept like silt. The water could pass, but the sand remained trapped in the crevices of her bones, never to be lost.

Fu Tongwen couldn’t bear himself. He didn’t say it, but each kiss poured out all his hidden thoughts.