The antique girlfriend of a chaebol heir

Blood gushed out instantly, soaking his moon-white brocade robe, like a red plum blossom suddenly blooming, both alluring and tragic.

Xie Shuheng swayed, but gritted his teeth and did not fall. Instead, he pushed the dagger in another half inch.

Xie Lin stood frozen in place, his face drained of all color, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head.

"You..." Xie Lin opened his mouth, but could no longer make a sound.

He looked at his son, who had always been upright and self-disciplined and whom he was most proud of, now standing there like a madman, a knife stuck in his chest, blood dripping down his clothes and onto the bluestone slab, forming a small, glaring red patch.

Shen Ci covered her mouth tightly, her eyes reddening.

Xie Shuheng was still smiling.

He looked at his father, his voice weak from blood loss, yet each word was clear:

"Father...look, your son isn't even afraid of death...what is there to fear about his future..."

He staggered, finally unable to hold on any longer, and slowly fell forward.

In the moment before he lost consciousness, he saw Shen Ci approaching him, her veil falling completely, revealing a look of panic and pain on her pale yet exquisite face.

He thought to himself, "It was worth it."

Then, he closed his eyes in front of her, smiling.

……

Two years later, the "Hengji" signboard had spread all over the country.

Xie Shuheng became the richest man in Jiangnan, with gold and silver treasures flowing into his warehouse like water, and then being transformed into medicinal herbs just as easily.

Rumors about him never ceased in the capital.

Some say that Xie Lin, the Minister of War, fell seriously ill and nearly lost his life, after which he severed all ties with his eldest son.

Some say that the young scholar from the Xie family who achieved the highest rank in the imperial examinations has gone mad. For a sickly woman, he gave up fame and fortune, choosing instead to wallow in the filth of the marketplace, becoming tainted with the stench of money.

Some people even say that the girl from the Shen family is a reincarnated fox spirit who has captivated the young master of the Xie family.

When these gossips reached Xie Shuheng's ears along with the caravans traveling north and south, he simply smiled faintly and continued to look through the account book in his hand.

What does he care about?

Fame and fortune are nothing but empty titles on paper, and status is nothing but shackles on one's body.

Having lived two lives, he had long since seen through all of this.

As long as she lives, as long as she can still smile at him in the morning sunlight, he would not even bother to offer him the entire country.

Two months ago, he proposed to the eldest daughter of the Shen family.

Without the elaborate formalities of marriage and the pomp and circumstance of a wealthy family, he, as a merchant, prepared a generous betrothal gift and personally visited the Shen residence.

Prefect Shen remained silent for a long time before finally sighing and nodding.

On the wedding day, a light rain fell in Jiangnan, and a pair of dragon and phoenix candles were lit in the bridal chamber.

Xie Shuheng picked up the scales, his hands trembling slightly.

He took a deep breath and gently lifted the red veil embroidered with twin lotus flowers.

Beneath the veil, Shen Ci raised her eyes.

She wore a light layer of makeup, her cheeks flushed with a faint blush, and her lips were adorned with rouge. Her usual pale and sickly appearance was perfectly concealed, making her look otherworldly beautiful.

But those eyes remained cold and indifferent, like a deep pool reflecting the candlelight, yet devoid of warmth.

Xie Shuheng was mesmerized.

He instinctively reached out, wanting to touch her face.

But as soon as his fingertips touched the hem of her clothes, he could clearly feel her body tremble, a subtle yet real tremor.

His hand froze in mid-air.

"...The formal attire and headdress are too heavy," he withdrew his hand, his voice extremely soft, as if afraid of disturbing something, "Shall I remove them for you?"

Shen Ci lowered her eyes and nodded gently.

He went around behind her and carefully removed the hairpins and hair ornaments from her hair, and untied the intricate ties of her wedding dress.

His movements were extremely light and slow.

The bright red wedding dress was peeled off layer by layer, revealing the bright red inner garment. He turned his face away, neatly folded the clothes, and then helped her lie down.

The red candles burned all night, and they slept in the same bed.

He lay beside her, a fist's distance between them, and could smell the faint fragrance of her hair.

He kept his eyes open, listening to her gradually calming breathing until dawn.

For the next five years, this continued every day.

He never touched her.

It's not that I don't want to.

In the stillness of the night, as he listened to her soft breathing and watched her slightly furrowed brows in her sleep, a wave of emotion washed over him.

But he dared not, nor was he willing.

He knew she didn't love him.

She married him out of gratitude, guilt, and an inability to resist the heavy weight of the life-saving grace he had given her.

She always maintained a polite distance from him, like a transparent veil; he could see her, but he could not touch her heart.

Moreover, although her health had improved considerably since the first meeting with Physician Wu, it was still far inferior to that of an ordinary woman.

How could he dare to take the risk? How could he bear to let her suffer that pain?

So he simply spent his days with her.

When she was in good spirits, they would play a game of chess under the window.

When she was tired, he helped her to the couch to rest, and sat beside her, either reading or dealing with accounts. Occasionally, he would look up at her and feel that the day was perfect.

Sometimes she doesn't want to do anything, she just leans quietly against the soft pillows, staring blankly at the sunlight outside the window.

He put down what he was doing and sat quietly with her.

The room was silent except for the sound of the water clock, but he felt that this was the happiest time of his two lives combined.

In the fifth year of their marriage, in winter.

Shen Ci's illness came on suddenly and violently.

The day before, she had spent half the day by the window watching the snow, and said with a smile that the plum blossoms had bloomed early this year.

The next morning, she coughed up blood, staining her plain white handkerchief red. She seemed to have lost all her vitality and collapsed softly onto the bed.

Imperial Physician Wu came to see me, took my pulse, but just shook his head.

He was old, his hair completely white. "Thank you, young master... I have done my best. The exorbitantly priced medicine was ultimately just snatching a life from the clutches of death... These extra five years are the limit."

Xie Shuheng stood by the bed, without crying.

He dismissed everyone and sat alone on the edge of the bed, holding Shen Ci's hand.

That hand was icy cold, so thin it was just bones. He held it in his palm as if he were holding a handful of snow that was about to melt.

But the next day, when she opened her eyes weakly and smiled at him, his tears suddenly fell.

The tears fell silently, large drops rolling down her cheeks and landing on the back of her hand, burning her scalding hot.

Shen Ci struggled to raise her arm, as if to wipe away his tears, but she had no strength left.

Xie Shuheng quickly grabbed her hand and pressed her palm against his wet cheek, rubbing it gently.

"I'm sorry..." her voice was as soft as a wisp of smoke, "I haven't fulfilled my duties as a wife for a single day... I've let you down..."

Xie Shuheng rubbed his face against her cold hand, his throat tightening, but he shook his head with a smile: "Don't talk nonsense... I'm already content."

I am truly content.

In his previous life, he could only peek at her life from behind a screen or a newspaper, across thousands of miles.

In this life, she spent five whole years by his side.

He had heard her first cough when she woke up in the morning, seen her brows furrow slightly when she played chess, smelled the orchid fragrance in her hair, and even... had the title of his wife.

What more could you want?

Shen Ci looked at him, but her gaze gradually became somewhat distant.

She took a few breaths to gather her strength and whispered, "Husband... although I am ignorant about matters of the heart, I always feel... that you are looking at someone else through my face."

Xie Shuheng's body stiffened.

"Your affection came too suddenly, too intensely... too intensely for someone like me."

She gave a weak smile. "I've always felt... I'm not worthy of your kindness. I'm just a sickly person..."

"Stop talking."

Xie Shuheng interrupted her and gripped her hand even tighter.

He leaned down, his forehead against the back of her hand, his voice hoarse and broken, "No one else... there has never been anyone else. In this life, in past lives and this life, I, Xie Shuheng, have only loved you. It's you, it has always been you."

Shen Ci stared at him blankly, as if trying to find some answer in his eyes.

But his gaze was so real, so intense, that it made her heart ache.

She didn't press him further, but simply squeezed his fingers gently in return.

"If there's a next life..." Xie Shuheng looked up at her, his eyes blurry with tears, his voice filled with a humble plea, "When you choose a husband, Madam, please consider me first, okay?"

Shen Ci looked at him and weakly curved her lips into a smile.

"good……"

Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it clearly touched his heart.

Then, she slowly closed her eyes.

The hand that was holding his gradually loosened its grip and fell limply to the ground.

Xie Shuheng sat there, without moving.

He slowly embraced her, holding her tightly in his arms.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, where a faint scent of medicine still lingered.

He thought he should be content.

Even though the love in her eyes was less than gratitude, even though she had never truly loved him... he was truly content.

The snow outside the window was falling gently and steadily...