Crazy Beautiful Fishing Master Chasing His Wife's Crematorium - Chapter 28

The moment the door opened, the sealed memories of Uncle Hua’s death rushed over.

The room was dim. She thought about turning on the light, but Xiang Feiwan squeezed her palm: “Don’t.”

She heard the tremor in the voice, froze there, and said softly, “You can cry it out.”

Xiang Feiwan released her hand, turned her back, covered her face with both hands, and choked out fragmented memories of Uncle Hua’s last moments.

He had whispered that his parents were waiting for him at the station, that he was finally not lonely.

Uncle Hua’s passing meant reuniting with his deceased loved ones, but it left Xiang Feiwan completely alone.

The darkness of the night could hide the sadness on her face, but not her voice or her movements.

The sound of Xiang Feiwan inhaling, the slight shudder of her shoulders—Ye Sangyu lowered her head and slowly hugged her around the waist from behind.

The woman who was usually cool and restrained leaned on her shoulder, tears soaking her clothes.

The Tale of Kamakura once described it this way: the train leads to the Yellow Springs Station, and the platform is full of the deceased coming to welcome people. This is not tragedy; this is reunion.

In this moment, Ye Sangyu had a genuine sense of it: the parting in the mortal world was a different kind of reunion in the netherworld.

Xiang Feiwan stood and cried for a while, then turned to the side and told her she could turn on the light.

Ye Sangyu turned on the light. The sight of the home’s layout was exactly as she remembered.

She stood by the stair railing: “I want to go upstairs and look.”

“You go ahead,” Xiang Feiwan sat on the sofa, “I’ll sit for a bit.”

Ye Sangyu went to Xiang Feiwan’s bedroom, where they had shared a bed for countless nights.

The already few bright colors in the bedroom were gone. The green plants had withered, the flowerpots were empty, and the fish tank only had a few colorful stones left.

On the bedside table was their photo together.

Xiang Feiwan was wearing her high school uniform, her palm resting on Ye Sangyu’s head. Ye Sangyu was short then and always followed Xiang Feiwan everywhere, earning her the nickname ‘little tail.’

Finally, she walked to the window to look out. The villa, once a garden of greenery, was now filled with flying dead grass, and snow piled up like mountains. The sight filled Ye Sangyu’s heart with desolation.

A very soft sound of footsteps came from behind. Xiang Feiwan walked up beside her.

They stood in silence for a while, then Ye Sangyu asked solemnly, “Was the Old Master’s death a natural one?”

Xiang Feiwan didn’t say anything. Silence is sometimes assent, but sometimes a silent denial can be deafening.

Ye Sangyu did not intend to press Xiang Feiwan for the truth about Uncle Hua’s death. She then wandered into the study. The books were mostly in their original places.

Among them were hers, from elementary school all the way up to her doctorate—an entire wall of them. She was quite surprised.

Xiang Feiwan stood in the doorway, pointing to the very edge of the bookshelf: “I put away your awards and honor certificates; I was afraid they’d collect dust.”

Ye Sangyu even saw her old test papers tucked into the corner of the shelf. Xiang Feiwan leaned against the doorframe to remind her: “The test papers are all there, too. My comments and reviews are still on them.”

This was an absolutely embarrassing reminder. Besides the teacher’s grade, her test papers always had Xiang Feiwan’s comments on the back.

They were called comments, but they were all praises mixed with some declarations of love. She loved reading them then and always begged Xiang Feiwan to write them.

Xiang Feiwan turned and left, perhaps deliberately giving her a chance to look through the papers, but Ye Sangyu felt too awkward. Memory belonged to the past and was gone forever.

On the way back, Ye Sangyu wanted to walk on her own, but Xiang Feiwan blocked her path: “You helped me today, and I have to show my gratitude. The car is just sitting here collecting dust; take one.”

After a long argument, Xiang Feiwan simply shoved the key into Ye Sangyu’s pocket: “And while you’re at it, drive me back.”

The car stopped at Maple Garden, and only then did Xiang Feiwan tell her she no longer lived there.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Ye Sangyu suspected she did it on purpose, but staring at those red, tear-filled eyes, she couldn’t say anything else.

Ye Sangyu knew that Xiang Feiwan owned many properties, but she didn’t know the exact number or locations.

This new house was quite close to Hua Xin Group, in the heart of the expensive, inch-of-gold city center—a large house spanning several hundred square meters.

Xiang Feiwan invited her up to sit for a while. Ye Sangyu was inclined to refuse, but Xiang Feiwan quickly preempted her: “I just moved in today and haven’t cooked yet. It’s just me. Can you help me break in the kitchen?”

Ye Sangyu wasn’t one to hold grudges. She voluntarily went to the nearby supermarket to buy some food and drinks and then went upstairs with her.

The interior design was still her preferred simple and luxurious style. The materials were expensive, and while there wasn’t a lot of furniture, it was all from major brands.

Ye Sangyu went straight to the kitchen. Xiang Feiwan quickly came over to assist, holding an apron: “Here.”

“My hands are wet; it’s inconvenient.” Ye Sangyu was washing vegetables. Xiang Feiwan shook out a pink apron, indicating she should put it on, nudging her shoulder: “Come on.”

Ye Sangyu’s heart skipped a beat. Was this woman pouting?

Xiang Feiwan enthusiastically helped her tie the apron, her arms circling Ye Sangyu’s waist from the front.

It wasn’t until she smelled the familiar subtle fragrance that she realized something was wrong. She looked Xiang Feiwan squarely in the eyes and found fault: “Why are you tying the apron from the front?”

The distance was very close. Xiang Feiwan’s eyes reflected her image, and she was staring intently at Ye Sangyu, smiling gently: “Is it not allowed?”

Ye Sangyu hissed, about to flare up, but Xiang Feiwan’s hands moved down Ye Sangyu’s waist, pulling the apron down, which made her immediately lose her composure, dodge backward, and blush: “Get away from me.”

They simply made one meat dish, one vegetable dish, and a soup. The staple food was store-bought steamed buns.

For their first meal in the new house, the two sat facing each other. Xiang Feiwan’s left hand picked up the soup bowl but immediately put it down and switched to her right, clearly indicating the wound on her left hand was still painful.

Ye Sangyu turned to get a spoon and placed it on the table. Xiang Feiwan thanked her with a smile.

After the meal, Ye Sangyu checked the fridge and, as expected, found cold drinks.

As she pulled a bottle out, she bumped directly into Xiang Feiwan’s chest. Ye Sangyu was a little shorter. She looked up, looking a bit fierce as she guarded the drink, her bright, clear, dark eyes showing all her little intentions.

“You drink a little,” Xiang Feiwan conceded.

What Ye Sangyu craved most was the first sip after opening the bottle—icy and refreshing. The coolness would rush up, and she’d let out a comfortable sigh.

“Is it that good?” Xiang Feiwan’s red lips pressed against the mouth of the bottle Ye Sangyu had just sipped from. She tilted her head back slightly. The mole on her throat moved with the act of swallowing; it was a little captivating.

“Burp.” Xiang Feiwan let out a soft burp. Ye Sangyu couldn’t hold it in and laughed.

Xiang Feiwan was a little embarrassed, her eyelashes lowered, and she said awkwardly, “It’s my first time drinking it.”

The proud, rich lady used to have a daily diet plan, and carbonated drinks were naturally forbidden.

Ye Sangyu suddenly remembered something and opened the refrigerator door again: “If you don’t drink soda, why buy so much?”

Xiang Feiwan’s lips twitched, but she didn’t say anything.

Ye Sangyu leaned in to look: “It’s not just soda; there’s also juice, milk, yogurt… all these.”

“Yes,” Xiang Feiwan admitted. Her bright eyes looked at Ye Sangyu from behind the open refrigerator door: “These are all the things you like to drink. I thought I’d be prepared just in case.”

“They’d all be wasted if I didn’t come,” Ye Sangyu said with a stern face, “The Old Master hated waste the most.”

“Mm-hmm,” Xiang Feiwan’s bright eyes looked at her from behind the open fridge door, “Then you came. If you drink it, it won’t be wasted.”

Ye Sangyu scoffed. She came, but wasn’t allowed to drink? Xiang Feiwan handed it to her: “Then have one more sip. You’re about to get your period, so you shouldn’t drink too much.”

In the end, the two of them finished the drink, sip by sip.

The difference was that Ye Sangyu poured the rest into her mouth from a distance, while Xiang Feiwan drank directly from the bottle.

Xiang Feiwan called the last bit at the bottom of the bottle the ‘lucky roots’: “Here, you drink it.”

Seeing the small amount, Ye Sangyu quickly tilted her head back and downed it. She drank 0.01, and the rest spilled onto her clothes.

Xiang Feiwan tried to stifle a laugh and turned to find her a change of clothes.

Ye Sangyu stared speechlessly at the ring of liquid on her clothes. She had just changed!

Xiang Feiwan’s clothes were a size larger than hers, especially in the area of the rounded curves in front.

However, their waistlines were similar. The cinched-waist design flattered her figure. As she was admiring it, she saw Xiang Feiwan at the door: “Why are you looking at me?”

“You look good.”

“Kindly leave.”

Xiang Feiwan wasn’t annoyed: “Then I’ll go do the dishes.”

Xiang Feiwan had cooked most of the meal. Ye Sangyu rushed out of the bathroom: “I’ll do them. Don’t let your wound get infected and then blame me.”

Xiang Feiwan just smiled and let her go.

When Ye Sangyu finished cleaning the kitchen, she heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. She peeked through the slightly ajar door and saw Xiang Feiwan washing her clothes, and doing it by hand. Her posture was awkward, likely because her hand hurt.

Her phone suddenly rang, startling Ye Sangyu. Xiang Feiwan took off her gloves and held the phone between her ear and shoulder: “Compromise? No compromise.”

Ye Sangyu was standing by the door and didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she heard everything.

It was probably the families of the people who splashed paint on the car the night before. They were collectively pleading, hoping for a reduction in compensation and asking that the incident not be announced to the whole school, asking Xiang Feiwan to be lenient.

“I don’t have the final say on this,” Xiang Feiwan’s tone was flat. “It’s my car, yes, but I listen to her.”

Ye Sangyu’s face felt hot. Xiang Feiwan, inside, was completely unaware, saying slowly, “Whatever makes her happy is fine.”

Ye Sangyu leaned against the wall and listened as Xiang Feiwan spoke again after a while: “A face-to-face meeting is out of the question. I have very important things to do right now.”

As Xiang Feiwan spoke, she turned on the speakerphone and continued scrubbing the clothes: “Did you hear that, Director Gu? I’m washing clothes. I don’t have time to go out.”

“CEO Xiang, whose clothes are those that you have to wash them yourself?” It was Director Gu from the local police station on the other end, sounding helpless: “Just do this one thing for me. The kids are young. Just this once. If it’s really necessary, they can apologize to you in person.”

“We’ll see,” Xiang Feiwan muttered, burying her head to scrub a stain on the collar. Director Gu suggested contacting Ye Sangyu. Her tone became slightly cold: “No. None of you are to disturb her.”

Director Gu pleaded for a long time, and Xiang Feiwan finally agreed to ask Ye Sangyu. Director Gu chuckled: “I never realized someone could tell CEO Xiang what to do. Now I know. I need to get to know this young lady in the future.”

“That’s not happening,” Xiang Feiwan said with a tone of being very protective, “But if she ever needs help from you, just help her out.”

Ye Sangyu fanned herself with her hand. The heating in this house was too good.

After confirming that Xiang Feiwan had hung up, she knocked on the door, preparing to leave. Xiang Feiwan had already hung up the clothes: “I know you won’t agree if I offer to drive you back, so drive carefully.”

Xiang Feiwan originally intended to see her downstairs, but Ye Sangyu ran off quickly. In the end, Xiang Feiwan could only watch the figure dashing downstairs from the window. She sent Ye Sangyu the passcode, telling her to come back anytime.

Ye Sangyu’s cold reply was: No time.

The room became quiet again. The smile on Xiang Feiwan’s face faded, and she stood motionless in the center of the living room, lost in thought, as if in a trance.

After an unknown period, the doorbell suddenly rang.

Xiang Feiwan snapped out of it. The face on the video screen was familiar. Ye Sangyu’s small face was flushed, and she was holding a bucket covered with a red cloth.

The moment Xiang Feiwan opened the door, she smiled.

Ye Sangyu handed the bucket over with both hands: “The Old Master told me that you can’t come to a new house empty-handed. This is my belated offering. There’s rice in the bucket and a red envelope, symbolizing a constant food supply and prosperity.”

She rattled it off quickly, like pouring beans out of a bamboo tube, shoving it into Xiang Feiwan’s hands and turning to leave. She walked a few steps, remembered something, and turned back: “Keep all the lights on tonight—all night long. It means the family will prosper.”

This time, she truly ran off. Ye Sangyu ran all the way downstairs, pausing to catch her breath, and looked back up at the building.

A moment ago, only one window square was lit, looking strangely lonely. Now, the windows to the left, right, up, and down were all illuminated.

A small figure was silhouetted on the pale curtains. Just as Ye Sangyu was about to turn away, another shadow appeared on the curtains, raising an arm, holding what looked like a gun.

The two shadows quickly intertwined, looking like they were fighting.

Her heart thumped. She remembered something and immediately ran back up the stairs.

The passcode was her birthday. She didn’t hesitate, entered it directly, pushed the door open, and heard an embarrassing sound coming from the bathroom. In a fit of anger, she grabbed the bucket of rice she had just delivered, kicked the door open, and poured the contents inside.

Crash!

Both of them were stunned.

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