Chapter 315: Conjoined Mole
She didn’t mess around with emotions and, in the end, started something with Feng Shien.
Liang Chaosu maintained his integrity and didn’t provoke people in romantic relationships.
But she did the first move, and Liang Chaosu responded with fifteen.
In the blink of an eye, more news arrived: Lian Yingying was taken away, and Mo Shifu’s formation was in great disarray.
Bai Ying was speechless. After a long pause, she lay down and whispered in her ear, “Liancheng, you’ve changed, but he’s still him.”
She had changed, and he remained the same.
Liancheng looked out the window at the overwhelming, lively vitality, where the flowers and leaves pressed against each other, layer upon layer, an indistinguishable mass.
Looking closely, the red was still red, the green was still green, the flowers were flowers, and the leaves were leaves, clearly distinct.
“After your IV drip finishes, I want to go for a walk. Can you?”
Liang Chaosu’s eyes visibly rippled. “If you ask me, of course, I can.”
………………………………
Liang Chaosu’s body suffered continuous severe injuries, and throughout the morning, transparent, milky white, and brownish-yellow fluids were alternately replaced, some light-blocking, some not.
It wasn’t until evening, as the sun began to set, that he knocked on the door. Liancheng was in her room, talking on the phone with Lin Xianzi.
It was noon in Paris. Lin Xianzi had finished several rounds of meetings and was adjusting the plan to deal with Mo Shifu according to the current situation.
If Lian Yingying and Gu Zhoushan pointed to the Hong Kong shooting case, and Mo Shifu was involved, Mo Shicheng would be sentenced to death, and he would at least get life imprisonment. After twenty-something years of heart-wrenching suffering, they were finally going to win.
Lin Xianzi wept with joy and sorrow, “Now only the Far East court hearing remains. Liancheng, let’s hold another memorial ceremony for your father’s memorial day. Once you find a kidney source and finish the surgery—”
She choked up, “It will be soon. The secretary bribed the European Kidney Transplant Association, and there have been three scandals in recent years. They’ve agreed to prioritize your match. Mainland China is strict; it won’t be faster than Europe. Tomorrow, I’ll have the butler take you for your pre-transplant medical examination.”
Liancheng agreed.
“Liang Chaosu returning to the Huang family was out of necessity. But his schemes run too deep; it’s unclear whether circumstances forced him or he created the situation. Mom can’t be certain.” Lin Xianzi paused. “Liancheng, do you still trust him?”
Liancheng remained silent.
“Eighteen years of feelings; you stabbed him, he saved your life, and then he cooperated with Mom to settle the old scores.” Lin Xianzi actually knew her struggle. “The world isn’t black and white. If you’re still struggling and distressed, I’ll step forward and not pursue it if a case is filed in the Mainland. Afterward, let bygones be bygones, and you don’t have to think about him anymore.”
“Life has too many accounts that can’t be settled clearly; you can’t be calculating them in your heart every day. You pursue a world of absolute clarity and perfection, but it doesn’t exist. Real people are inherently ignorant, narrow-minded, prejudiced, and selfish; they deal with things as they come, and if they can’t, they blur past. Mom’s process of revenge wasn’t absolutely just either; sometimes she spent money for peace, sometimes she compromised for peace of mind—”
“Mom,” Liancheng suddenly said, “I have something to do. I’ll talk to you later.”
She opened the door.
Liang Chaosu was composed and calm. The Singapore sun was blazing. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and leather shoes. The wound at his hairline had been redressed, covered with a narrow, waterproof bandage.
His aura was restrained, so restrained that his once powerful and imposing presence had vanished, and his sharp pressure had faded, like a flat, undisturbed lake.
There were no traces of these past few years, nor of the first eighteen.
“It will be hot for you if we go out later.”
Liang Chaosu accompanied her downstairs. “It used to be.”
Liancheng’s nose suddenly felt a sting. He used to be heroic and robust, with a warm body temperature, and hated the summer. Now he was thin and gaunt from illness, and the summer heat had just subsided.
“When are you returning to your country?”
His steps were unhurried, and he replied leisurely, “In three days.”
Liancheng walked through the hall, straight down the steps, and into the red rose maze. The floral fragrance was too strong, an endless wall of flowers.
Liang Chaosu’s eyes reflected these fervent, passionate, and enduring things, submerging her, protecting her.
She wasn’t afraid; she liked it.
“Liancheng,” his chest rumbled, sounding both mournful and amused, “Singapore is always sunny.”
Liancheng was silent for a long moment. “Don’t be silly. Singapore is in the tropics; it’s normal for it to be sunny.”
Liang Chaosu’s laughter grew louder.
Liancheng’s gaze fell on a budding red rose. “Liang Chaosu, I’ve read ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude.’ Macondo is raining, and the person saying it is very lonely.”
— Aureliano, Macondo is raining.
— Don’t be silly, Colonel Aureliano Buendía, it’s normal for it to rain in August.
Because of not being understood, because of being unable to explain oneself, because of facing each other countless times, being extremely close, yet the other party not understanding at all.
Liang Chaosu gazed at her. The sun had just set, its glow still a scorching yellow. The temperature was high, and she shouldn’t have come out; lupus erythematosus cannot be exposed to sunlight.
She had something to say.
“I don’t like rain; I like Singapore’s sunny days.” Liancheng broke off the rose and handed it to him. “I don’t like harsh scorching heat, but I like passionate and surging things. You heard my mother’s phone call?”
“Mm,” Liang Chaosu took it. His hands were scarlet, and the surroundings were also full of scarlet blossoms. Blinding white sunlight poured down, and he stood in the middle, silent yet dazzling.
“I didn’t think you would agree.”
Liang Chaosu leaned closer.
She didn’t dodge. “Right?”
“It seems I’m not Colonel Aureliano Buendía.” He brushed aside her long hair that cascaded over her shoulders. He had removed the thorns from the rose stem, and the smooth branch was tucked behind Liancheng’s ear. “This time, how do you want to persuade me?”
“I can’t persuade you.” Liancheng looked up at him, letting him fuss with her hair. “You want to atone, to be pure and start anew. My mother wants to balance enmity with grace, to sever your reasons for starting anew by not pursuing it.”
Liang Chaosu’s eyes showed little emotion. People who go through great ups and downs, facing so much helplessness, will transform. He transformed at twenty-four, and again, approaching thirty.
Liancheng was also changing. “To be honest, since Europe, I’ve been very drained. I don’t want to lie, yet I still lie. I take my feelings seriously, but I’ve also become careless, frivolous, and false. What scares me more is that I’m changing for you.”
Liang Chaosu hesitated for a moment. Knowing what she was about to say, he was still delighted. “I’m very happy that you can be honest.”
Liancheng gave a faint smile.
“You once asked me if you could afford to lose. Can I?” She gave her answer. “There’s still half a lifetime ahead; time is too long, I dare not say anything else. But I can confirm now that one thing at a time. Let’s be friends again, siblings, anything is fine, but as lovers, there’s no fate.”
She wasn’t intense; she was calm and open-minded, her naturally upturned eye corners curving, showing no hint of ruthlessness.
Even if she were ruthless, he would be beyond help.
“Then have your surgery well and recover properly.” Liang Chaosu withdrew his hand and began to pick and choose among the surrounding flower walls.
He somehow knew how to weave, intertwining one rose with another, with leaves occasionally peeking out from between the petals. It formed a closed loop from a line to a circle, fitting her head perfectly, not too much, not too little.
“Be passionate, be forward-looking, and happily live days without me.” He seemed to have a settled peace, yet also seemed to be the same person.
Liancheng recognized his paranoia and finally broke down. “That kind of beginning will lead to no future for any woman.”
Liang Chaosu bowed his head, and Liancheng, unable to hold back, stepped back.
He had no intention of kissing her; he was pure and serene.
His fingers froze in mid-air, reaching out in vain towards her nose tip, with scars blooming from the rose stems.
Liancheng felt ashamed. “Is there something on my face?”
“There’s a small mole,” he withdrew his hand and stood there looking at her. “…It can’t be wiped off.”
Liancheng found it both funny and exasperating. “It’s a birthmark I’ve had since birth; of course, it can’t be wiped off.”
