The antique girlfriend of a chaebol heir

Looking back on most of his life, Xie Shuheng feels like a voyeur.

After Shen Ci married Jiang Duo, he thought he could finally give up that feeling.

He rarely returned to the Xie family's old residence, living alone in a villa, burying himself in the tedious affairs of the family business, managing countless tasks every day, so busy that he barely had time to rest.

But only he knew that every night, as the city's neon lights streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into his empty living room, he would do the same thing—

I opened my phone and scrolled to my sister Xie Shuyun's WeChat Moments.

His younger sister, Xie Shuyun, loved to pester Shen Ci.

Their friendship was so pure that he was both jealous and secretly grateful.

It was through this relationship that he was able to glimpse, through a screen, the person he would never dare to approach again in his life.

Xie Shuyun is usually a very lively person. She posts frequently on her WeChat Moments, sharing which newly opened coffee shop she visited today and what interesting little gadgets she found tomorrow.

She has quite a few photos of Shen Ci in her WeChat Moments—

Shen Ci's profile as he reads under the lamp, Shen Ci's back as he feeds the fish by the pond, the slight curve of Shen Ci's eyes when he smiles...

Like an addict, he greedily preserved every photo, repeatedly looking at it in the dead of night, zooming in and zooming in again until the pixels became blurry.

Four years after marrying Jiang Duo, Shen Ci gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl.

When the child turned 100 days old, Xie Shuyun, as the child's godmother, posted nine pictures in a row.

Xie Shuheng's finger hovered above the screen, hesitant to drop it for a long time.

He finally clicked on it, and the first image made his breath catch in his throat—

In the photo, Shen Ci is sitting in a rattan armchair, wearing loose beige loungewear, her hair loosely tied back, with a few stray strands hanging down her neck.

She held a swaddled baby in each arm; both little ones were fast asleep, their faces rosy.

She lowered her head, her gaze gently falling on the children's faces, a smile on her lips, a smile so happy it was almost dazzling, like a beam of light that stung his eyes.

At the edge of the photo, a hand carefully supports the child in her arms.

The hand had distinct knuckles, and a silver ring on the ring finger that gleamed warmly in the afternoon sunlight.

Although he couldn't see the face, Xie Shuheng recognized the owner of the hand at a glance.

It was Jiang Duo.

He stood there beside her, like a mountain, like a wall, like a moat that Xie Shuheng could never cross.

That wedding ring, from the day it was put on, has never been taken off.

Xie Shuheng stared at that photo for an entire night.

When her child was three years old, Xie Shuyun posted another set of photos.

Shen Ci is still so beautiful and dazzling.

She was wearing a simple white dress and standing on a grassy field, with her twins holding her hands on either side.

Sunlight fell on her, and she smiled, her eyes crinkling, as if time had never left a mark on her.

Xie Shuheng knew that her brilliance extended far beyond that.

He had always known that Shen Ci was outstanding, but her talent kept surprising him.

At the age of thirty, she published a nationally sensational monograph on ancient literature, which deciphered several volumes of fragmented Dunhuang documents flawlessly, shocking the academic community and attracting widespread media coverage.

She spoke fluently and calmly in front of the camera, her scholarly air more dazzling than any jewelry.

At the age of thirty-five, she took over as the director of the National Academy of Literature, becoming the youngest director in the academy's history.

At the inauguration ceremony, she wore a navy blue suit and stood under the spotlight as she received the letter of appointment from the leader.

The audience erupted in applause, and the camera panned across the guest seats, landing on the man in the front row who had been smiling and gazing at her the whole time.

Jiang Duo, dressed in a well-fitting suit, followed her with his gaze, his eyes revealing an undeniable blend of pride and tenderness.

He always silently supported her from behind.

He shielded her from worldly distractions and took care of all the trivial matters in her life, allowing her to immerse herself wholeheartedly in the world of academia.

For decades, it has remained unchanged.

Xie Shuheng watched them, their love as strong as ever, from youth to old age.

In every unavoidable situation, he forced himself to appear nonchalant.

He would address her politely as "Mrs. Jiang," and when she and Jiang Duo smiled at each other, he would lower his head to take a sip of his drink.

But no one knew that the wine was bitter when it went down their throat.

He never married.

The Xie family was so worried that their hair turned white, and the father was still scolding him for being useless until his deathbed.

But he just smiled, neither explaining nor refuting.

Time flies, and he gradually grew old.

His hair had turned white, his back was hunched, and he lived alone in a cold and desolate house, with only a butler and servants by his side.

He became very quiet, so quiet that the world almost forgot that the Xie family had such a young master.

Before he died, he called his sister Xie Shuyun's eldest son to his bedside.

The child, who had already started a family and career, knelt before the bed, listening with red eyes as he explained his final wishes.

His voice was very soft as he carefully and deliberately gave his instructions:

"The orchid painting hanging on my study wall... after I'm gone, cremate it with me."

The nephew was stunned, not understanding what he meant.

That orchid painting was acquired by Xie Shuheng at an auction when he was young; it was not created by a master.

But my uncle cherished it his whole life, and wouldn't even let anyone touch the frame.

Now it's going to turn to ashes along with it.

No one knows why Xie Shuheng did this.

The Xie family only knew that he loved that painting very much.

Little did he know, that orchid painting was what his heart truly desired.

He guarded that painting as if it were her, and he guarded it for a lifetime.

That was where his heart belonged.

……

The study remained quiet, and the fragrance of osmanthus flowers was still strong.

Xie Shuheng looked down at his hands, which were young, strong, and without the mottled marks left by time.

With memories of two lifetimes intertwined in his mind, he finally realized that the long and lonely years, the pain of unrequited love, and the morbid and humble obsession were not dreams.

This time, he will not repeat the same mistake.

There are still two years until the imperial examination.

In the dream, Shen Ci, the daughter of Prefect Shen, died just before she could take the imperial examination, having won first place in the provincial examination.

"Taketake!"

The shout was urgent and sharp, exploding in the quiet study.

A person practically tumbled in through the door, holding half a piece of unfinished pastry in his hand, his cheeks bulging, his face pale with fright.

"Young...Young Master? What are your orders?"

"Prepare the carriages." Xie Shuheng's voice was as deep as iron. "We need the fastest horses and the lightest carriages. We'll depart in half an hour."

Zhu Yue was dumbfounded: "Depart? Where to? To the master and mistress's place..."

"Jiangnan".

Xie Shuheng interrupted him, quickly walking behind the desk, opening a drawer and taking out a sandalwood box.

Inside the box was a stack of silver notes and a token from the Ministry of War.

He handed these over to Zhu Yue and gave him stern instructions:

"Go to the Wu residence in the south of the city immediately. Imperial Physician Wu just returned home from the Imperial Hospital the day before yesterday. Go and invite him to come with me on this trip to Jiangnan. Let him name his consultation fee. If he refuses... even if you have to tie him up, tie him to the carriage."

The young master must have his reasons for giving such instructions.

Zhu Yue didn't dare to delay. He packed his things and ran out, his footsteps making a thumping sound on the wooden planks of the corridor.

Physician Wu was a highly skilled physician and the best person Xie Shuheng could think of.

If Shen Ci's body can still be saved, Imperial Physician Wu might be able to save her.

If it can't be cured...

Xie Shuheng paused slightly, then strode forward resolutely.

If it can't be cured, even if she only has two years left to live, he will stay with her and spend them together.

This time, he will no longer stand in the distance, no longer be separated by a screen, no longer be separated by a great distance.

He was about to walk up to her.

Whether or not she gives him that chance.

This time, he insisted on doing it anyway...