[Gold Powder GL] True Elegance Comes with Knowledge - Chapter 40

As Yan Hui stepped out the door, she saw Cao San standing at the entrance, visibly excited, holding a telegram in his hand.

She reached out to take it. As expected, the message said that Yan Kai would be arriving in Beijing by train that very day. Judging by the time it took for the telegram to arrive, the train was likely already nearing the station. Though she didn’t know why he had suddenly decided to come to Beijing, there was no time to ponder it now.

After giving a few brief instructions, she hurried off with Cao San to meet him at the station.

On the way there, Yan Hui watched the streams of people hurrying to and fro outside the car window and once again sank into deep thought.

In truth, everything Peifang had said—she had considered it all before.

But when it came to actually making a decision—whether to stay or to leave—Yan Hui still hadn’t found an answer.

People living through the moment knew nothing, like headless flies crashing about, unsure where to go, and thus constantly anxious. But even knowing where the road ultimately led didn’t erase that uncertainty. The dawn she foresaw still felt far, far away.

And she knew, with startling clarity, that things had not yet reached their worst. The next twenty years would only get darker.

So, living in these times—where should one go?

This question had haunted her for a long time. Of course, she wasn’t about to find clarity on the short ride to the train station. When the car finally stopped, she drew her scattered thoughts back in, took a deep breath, and forced herself to focus on the matter at hand.

Although she had been in this world for some time now, she had never once met the original Yan Hui’s family. Now that she was finally about to face them, it was only natural to feel a little nervous.

Yan Kai was a tall man with a firm, resolute face. His stride was powerful and commanding, exuding an aura of authority.

The moment she saw him, Yan Hui recognized him immediately—without any introduction from Cao San. Still, she remained where she was, cautiously standing her ground.

As expected, the relationship between the siblings was just as she had imagined—not particularly close. Upon seeing her, Yan Kai only gave her a once-over before saying, “You’ve grown into a young lady,” then immediately asked about her studies.

Had it been shortly after her arrival in this world, Yan Hui might have been nervous about that question. But now, her academic record was beyond reproach.

They chatted as they made their way back to Cao San’s residence. Though it was her first visit, Yan Kai was perfectly at ease—he took charge the moment they walked through the door, issuing orders without hesitation. Once Cao San left to carry them out, Yan Kai led her into the study.

Given the current political climate, Yan Hui knew he couldn’t have come all the way to Beijing just for himself. Even if his visit was partly personal, there had to be something planned for her as well. So, she entered the room and quietly waited for him to speak.

“Sit,” Yan Kai said, settling behind the desk and lighting a cigarette. He motioned for her to sit as well.

Yan Hui obeyed. Yan Kai didn’t beat around the bush.

“What do you think of the current situation?” he asked bluntly.

Her heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think the chaos will last much longer.”

Yan Kai looked at her with approval, then nodded. “It won’t—but there’s still trouble ahead. That’s why I came. Besides settling a few matters, I wanted to ask you—would you like to leave, for now?”

“Leave where?” she asked in return.

Since he wasn’t treating her like some naive girl, there was no need to pretend otherwise. Most people were fleeing south, but the south was hardly a sanctuary. Yan Hui knew all too well that war would soon engulf the entire land—there would be no true refuge.

Her question was short and subtle, but Yan Kai clearly understood. After a moment’s pause, he replied, “To Hong Kong. Or Southeast Asia. I can make the arrangements.”

Yan Hui let out a quiet breath.

If it were just about leaving Beijing, he wouldn’t have come personally. That level of attention made sense only if he intended to help her leave the mainland entirely.

At the time, countless people were moving assets overseas. Yan Kai’s plan was actually fairly conservative—many, dazzled by the power of the West, were heading straight for Europe or the Americas rather than staying in backward Asia.

But given Yan Kai’s military background, it wasn’t surprising. To him, the Western powers were not aspirational—they were threats.

“I’ll need some time to think,” she said after a long silence.

Yan Kai nodded, not surprised. “Don’t take too long. I won’t be in town for long.”

By the time Yan Hui returned to the villa, Peifang had already left. Though she had come seeking Yan Kai’s help, she understood the timing wasn’t right and didn’t push.

Madam Leng, on the other hand, was very warm and even invited Yan Kai over as a guest.

She truly regarded Yan Hui as a younger relative, and naturally wanted to show respect to her family.

Yan Hui promised to bring Yan Kai over when he was free. After handling Madam Leng, she went upstairs with Qingqiu.

“Did something happen?” Qingqiu asked, watching her closely the moment they entered the room.

Yan Hui replied, “Just what Peifang mentioned earlier.”

Qingqiu’s hand paused mid-pour, then resumed. She handed Yan Hui a glass of water and sat beside her.

“So, what do you think?”

“Big Brother thinks the whole country is unstable. If we leave, we’ll leave the mainland altogether,” Yan Hui said. “Not just us—our family members will go too, and there will be people to take care of things once we arrive.”

Qingqiu smiled. “That’s what your brother thinks. What about you?”

“I’m not sure,” Yan Hui murmured, fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “If we leave, we’ll have to abandon everything we have now. And wherever we go, it may not be the paradise people imagine.”

The Republican-era novels she once read often portrayed the protagonist fleeing war to find peace overseas—as if foreign lands were inherently peaceful and safe. But this was a world war. Europe, America, even the seemingly quiet Southeast Asia—nowhere would be truly untouched.

And the hardships of living in a foreign land? That would be the least of it.

But to stay? Yan Hui couldn’t confidently claim she was ready to sacrifice everything for a national cause.

In her original era, young people had grown up with the belief that self-love came first—put yourself before everything else. It wasn’t selfishness, but a kind of awakened self-awareness. Without it, words like freedom, equality, and democracy meant little.

A sudden warmth spread across the back of her hand—Qingqiu had taken it in hers.

Yan Hui looked up and met her smiling eyes.

“So, you do have moments of uncertainty,” Qingqiu said softly. “But I think when you’re hesitating, the answer is already clear.”

She looked Yan Hui in the eye. “You want to stay.”

Yan Hui instinctively wanted to look away—but in the end, she didn’t. She let out a quiet sigh, almost a laugh. “Maybe. What about you, Qingqiu? What do you think?”

“I want to stay too,” Qingqiu said without a second of hesitation.

That surprised Yan Hui.

Perhaps misreading her reaction, Qingqiu continued, “Not just because you want to stay. But because this is my homeland, my home. If we can’t live well here, what makes us think it’ll be better elsewhere? And someone has to stay. If everyone who can leave does, then the only ones left will be those with no way out. What about them?”

Yan Hui looked at her in silence, waves of emotion surging within.

The sense of duty toward home and country—this hadn’t come from Yan Hui. It had grown within Qingqiu herself, nurtured by the new ideas she encountered during her brief time at university.

The Qingqiu of today was no longer the woman in the original novel, trapped by love and a life in the inner quarters, who had to burn herself to escape. Even with chaos looming ahead, her eyes now shone with a fierce light.

It was the light unique to this generation of youth—a fire that said: “This is our home. We’ll defend it. We’ll build it. And if not us, then who?”

At that moment, Yan Hui felt ashamed of her own hesitation.

Everyone knew the dawn would come.

But if all those who knew this chose to leave and wait for the chaos to pass before returning—would the dawn ever come at all?

It was those lost in the fog, unsure of where or when it would end, who poured their blood into the earth to bring that dawn.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Qingqiu asked, growing self-conscious under her gaze.

“I was just thinking… you’re braver than me,” Yan Hui said, gripping her hand in return.

She remembered a poem she had once read by Mandela:

If the sky is dark, survive in the dark.

If speaking out is dangerous, stay silent.

If you cannot shine, curl up in the shadows.

But never defend the darkness simply because you’re used to it.

Never be proud of surviving by crawling.

Never mock those more courageous than yourself.

But now, echoing in her mind instead was the teacher’s words:

“Give off whatever light you have, even if it’s just a glimmer like a firefly.

Don’t wait for the torchbearers.

If there are no torches—then I will be the light.”