The antique girlfriend of a chaebol heir

Shen Ci lowered her eyes, gently withdrew her hand from Xie Shuyun's palm, and did not reply.

The tea room was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood, and outside the window, snow continued to fall, one flake at a time, silently.

Xie Shuyun belatedly realized the awkward atmosphere, turned around following Shen Ci's gaze, and saw her brother standing at the door. She quickly waved her hand, "Brother, I was just joking! Don't take it seriously—"

Before she could finish speaking, Xie Shuheng had already turned and left.

The snow outside grew heavier in the afternoon, with goose-feather-like snowflakes falling one after another, quickly accumulating into a thick layer.

The mountain road was blocked by snow, and the wheels slipped and slid when they drove over it, so everyone had to stay overnight at Xie Garden.

The happiest person was Xie Shuyun.

She clung to Shen Ci's hand, her eyes sparkling, "Youyou, you'll sleep in the same suite as me. I've had lots of snacks prepared; we can chat until midnight!"

Yin Kuo, with his arm around his girlfriend, lazily chimed in, "Little Antique is Duo Ge's girlfriend, how could you bear to break them up?"

"Little antique?" Xie Shuyun frowned, turned and glared at him. "Is this the nickname you gave Youyou? It's awful."

When Shen Ci heard this nickname, she thought it was quite fitting, because deep down she really was an "antique".

She couldn't help but look up at Jiang Duo.

He stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his back silhouetted long by the snow. He turned around when he heard a noise, his brow furrowed slightly, clearly dissatisfied with Xie Shuyun's arrangement.

But he also knew that Shen Ci could not live with him. Even if she stayed in a single room, she would choose a room that was far away from him.

Shen Ci: "I'll be sharing a room with Shuyun tonight."

Jiang Duo remained silent for a few seconds before finally humming in agreement.

But his gaze remained fixed on her, so intense it seemed he wanted to pin her to the spot, carrying a hint of suppressed malice.

Before returning to her room that evening, Xie Shuyun waved to him, laughing carefree, "Brother Duo, can I borrow your girlfriend for the night? I'll return her tomorrow!"

Jiang Duo: "..."

That night, Xie Shuheng had another dream.

In my dreams, I see someone else's life filled with regrets.

Xie Shuheng, the son of the Vice Minister of War in the capital, went to stay with his maternal grandfather in Jiangnan when he was eight years old.

His maternal grandfather had a very good relationship with the local prefect, and he had once accompanied his grandfather to Prefect Shen's residence.

There, he met Prefect Shen's four-year-old daughter, whose nickname was Youyou.

The girl was even cuter than his own sister.

A delicate, exquisitely crafted figure, draped in a red cloak, sits on the porch watching ants move their nest, able to sit motionless for half an hour.

He squatted down beside her, and she suddenly turned her head, gave him a smile, and her eyes curved into crescent moons.

He thought to himself that if he ever had the chance, he would definitely steal her home.

Later, every time he went to Jiangnan, he would visit the Shen family.

I taught her to play chess, watched her paint, and listened to her recite poems in her own little voice.

She has an excellent memory and can remember everything she sees. Even her maternal grandfather praised her as having the potential to be a child prodigy.

However, as he grew older, the difference between men and women meant he could no longer freely enter and leave the Shen family's inner courtyard as before.

He once secretly slipped into the backyard, hid behind the artificial hill, and watched her from a distance.

She became more beautiful, but also thinner, her wrists so thin they looked as if they would break at any moment. She sat in the courtyard playing the zither, the music melodious, as if it were drifting from a very far place.

He always knew that his sister Youyou was born with a heart condition, but he never saw any self-abandonment on her face.

She was in poor health, but she was very intelligent and her skills in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting far surpassed those of women and even men of the same age.

Back in the capital, Xie Shuheng could never forget her.

After his coming-of-age ceremony, his family began arranging his marriage.

His mother placed portraits of noble ladies from the capital on his desk one by one, smiling as she spoke of which girl was virtuous, which girl was beautiful, and which girl was a good match for him.

He looked down at the meticulously drawn eyebrows and eyes, and felt that each one was unfamiliar and did not resemble her.

"A son who doesn't establish himself in the family will not start a family."

He gently pushed the portrait back, his tone calm yet unquestionable.

He knew he was the only son in his family, and his parents would certainly not allow him to marry a sickly woman. So he studied desperately, day and night, hoping that on the day he passed the imperial examination with top honors, he could ask the emperor to grant him a marriage.

With his talent, his family background, and the Emperor's favor, he might very well achieve his goal.

But on the day he passed the imperial examination with flying colors, adorned in a red robe amidst the deafening sound of gongs and drums, his messengers sent to Jiangnan brought news at breakneck speed—

Shen Ci, the daughter of the prefect, died of a serious illness.

That day, he stood on the throne in the Golden Palace, and the congratulatory shouts of the court officials seemed to come from a great distance. He looked down at the red robe he was wearing and suddenly felt that the color was glaringly bright, like blood.

Two years later, and then another two years later, he entered the Hanlin Academy and rose through the ranks.

Matchmakers flocked to his door, but he still said the same thing: "No career, no family."

His parents grew increasingly anxious. One day, his mother, her eyes red, asked him, "Heng'er, how great an achievement do you intend to make? When will your parents be able to hold their grandchild?"

He stood by the window, gazing at the magnolia tree in the courtyard, and recalled that there was also a magnolia tree in the backyard of the Shen family mansion in Jiangnan. When it bloomed, his younger sister Youyou once stood under the tree, looking up at the petals falling on her shoulders.

"Wait a little longer," he said.

But he didn't say what he was waiting for.

His mother didn't understand, and he couldn't explain.

Later, he rose to the rank of first-grade official, and his students were all over the court. Everyone said that Young Master Xie was a genius, but no one knew that he had locked a series of portraits of women in a secret compartment in his study...

His mother, clutching his hand on her deathbed, her cloudy eyes filled with tears, asked, "Heng'er, tell your mother... do you have someone else in your heart?"

He knelt before the bed for a long time, then softly hummed in agreement.

Her mother's hand suddenly loosened, tears sliding down her cheeks, but a smile played on her lips: "Silly child... why didn't you say so sooner... whatever you liked, your parents would have agreed..."

He did not answer.

What do you mean? Say that person is long gone? Say that he had long admired her, but didn't even get to see her one last time?

What's the point of saying all this?

The person he kept in his heart never knew his feelings until his death.

After his mother left, the elders in the family no longer dared to pressure him.

The children of the collateral branches were adopted into his family, calling him "father" and respectfully continuing the family line.

Looking at the child's features, which bore a resemblance to his own, he suddenly felt absurd—this bloodline, this inheritance, was nothing more than a compromise for him.

Everyone thought he was ill and unable to have sex.

Only he himself knew,

One glance when he was eight years old consumed all the love in his life...

Xie Shuheng woke up with a start. The snow light shone through the window, making everything appear deathly white.

He lay in the darkness, his heart pounding, as if something was raging inside his chest, unable to find its way out.

That dream felt so real.

It was so real that he could smell the scent of the plum rains in Jiangnan and feel the emptiness in his heart when he was wearing the red robe on the day he passed the imperial examination.

He raised his hand to cover his eyes, his knuckles trembling slightly.