Rose Lock - Chapter 15

It wasn’t long before Dr. Ma came over for her follow-up appointment and prescribed another dose of oral medicine.

Taking advantage of Xiaoxiao leaving to fetch the medicine, Hua Manyi waved to Dr. Ma. Dr. Ma had lived in Haicheng for several years and could speak Chinese fluently.

“Dr. Ma, could you please help me see what is written on this letter?”

Dr. Ma pushed up his glasses, took the letter, and read it out to her. The first letter spoke of a woman named Ian being very concerned about her injured foot, asking her to take good care of herself, or else she would feel heartache.

Hearing the words “feel heartache,” Hua Manyi’s eyes curved slightly, and her heart felt warm. But in the next moment, she couldn’t help but be happy; her charm, Hua Manyi’s, truly appealed to both men and women. This was the first time she had received such detailed and sincere concern from a strange woman.

Dr. Ma continued to read the second letter. Hua Manyi also became serious, as these two letters were somewhat different. The latter had an extra kiss, a woman’s kiss, which strongly suggested that the sender was perhaps infatuated with her.

Thinking of this, Hua Manyi became uncharacteristically demure, her small face smug, as if she possessed something to be proud of.

The letter said that the woman named Ian had brewed a pot of tea and made a pleasing dessert today, and if possible, she hoped Hua Manyi could also taste it. Considering that her legs and feet were inconvenient, she had someone wrap it up and place it at the counter of a Western coffee shop on the street called “Casio.” If she wanted to taste it, she could go there directly and ask the waiter for it, who would give it to her directly.

Dr. Ma paused after reading the end and seeing the bright red kiss, but did not say anything.

“Alright, Miss Hua Manyi, is there anything else?” Dr. Ma packed up his medical bag.

“Nothing else, thank you, Dr. Ma. Take care.”

After he left, Hua Manyi, gripping the letter, fell into contemplation. She was pondering whether the woman’s words were true or false. The gifts from those awful men were very direct—handed directly to the front desk of Fenghai or to Xiaoxiao—and the intentions behind these gifts were also very direct and vulgar, either wanting to see her, Hua Manyi, or wanting her, Hua Manyi, to keep them company.

But this woman named Ian seemed to ask for nothing. Her words conveyed a kind of care, a feeling of sharing, and she even seemed afraid of being presumptuous or abrupt, thus choosing to leave the item at another location.

The kiss now seemed to hold no particular meaning; perhaps it was just a form of expression that Westerners liked to use when writing letters.

Hua Manyi couldn’t figure out what this woman wanted, but she also didn’t rush to go to that Casio coffee shop. The person might have set up a trap for her; she, Hua Manyi, wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sister Manyi, here’s your medicine. Drink it quickly.” Xiaoxiao brought a glass of water and poured a few pills into her hand. The bitter taste made Hua Manyi frown.

“Xiaoxiao, put it on the table first. I’ll drink it later.”

“Well… alright,” Xiaoxiao put down the water and pills helplessly. “Remember to take it later.”

Hua Manyi nodded her agreement. After the person left, she quickly forgot about it and continued reading the comic book she hadn’t finished. In the evening, Xiaoxiao came back, walked in, and was nearly driven mad.

This lady hadn’t taken her medicine and had instead taken a long nap. It was already time for dinner, and after dinner, she would have to take the second dose of medicine. By skipping one dose, how could she take the second one?

“Sister Manyi!” Xiaoxiao was so angry she lost her temper. Aunt Gong had also told her to take good care of her, but with this lack of cooperation, how was she supposed to do that?

“Xiaoxiao, I’m not eating dinner. I’m so sleepy.” Hua Manyi’s eyelids were heavy with sleep. She waved her hand, turned over, and intended to keep sleeping.

However, as she was sleeping, something felt wrong. She seemed to hear crying?

Hua Manyi was startled and sat up. Turning her head, she indeed saw Xiaoxiao standing not far away, head bowed, wiping her eyes while shedding tears. Hua Manyi couldn’t stand seeing girls cry, although she herself cried quite a bit. The sight of Xiaoxiao crying because of her immediately filled her with an intense sense of guilt.

She quickly threw back the blanket, got out of bed. Her foot was about fifty percent healed; she could walk but couldn’t exert force. She half-hopped over, hugged the person, and pressed her to her chest.

“Hey, Xiaoxiao, don’t cry! It’s my fault, it’s my fault. I’ll go take my medicine right now, okay?”

Xiaoxiao cried louder. Hua Manyi completely panicked. She also knew that Xiaoxiao had been in a bad mood recently because of Sister Fuling’s matter, and yet she was making things difficult for her like this. She was simply heartless.

She hugged her even tighter and comforted her gently, “Xiaoxiao, dear Xiaoxiao, from now on, I’ll do whatever you say. I won’t make things difficult for you, okay?”

After a long while, just when she thought she couldn’t soothe her, a voice came from her chest, “Really?”

“Of course.” Hua Manyi didn’t even think, quickly smoothing the little girl’s feathers.

A few seconds later, she repeatedly tasted the words. The tone didn’t sound quite right. “Xiaoxiao?”

Xiaoxiao emerged from her embrace, pursing her lips into a smile, “Sister Manyi, you promised me that you’ll take your medicine obediently from now on.”

Hua Manyi: “…” That was hasty.

…

At Lu He Winery, a glance revealed a massive winery estate spanning tens of thousands of square meters. High walls bordered the four sides, and a green iron gate created a sense of distance at the entrance. The lighting was excellent, and batch after batch of newly brewed wine was fermenting in half-human-high wine vats.

The winery estate was partitioned by a Chinese-style covered walkway. On the easternmost side was a tiered, circular residence built in a mix of Chinese and Western styles. It had a red brick and wood structure. The residence was not tall, only two stories, with several square chimneys on the roof, distributed over four rooftops, used for winter fireplace ventilation.

Unlike the luxurious mansions in Haicheng, it was not ostentatious but was classical and elegant.

Butler Fu picked up the half of his long gown, hurried in through the door, and entered the spacious hall, finally stopping in front of a tea table. “Madam, a lady named Ian wishes to see you.”

Gong Yan nodded, indicating she understood. Across the tea table was a Westerner from Western Europe, who was a Christian. He said he originally lived in a town near Haicheng and had come specifically for the reputation of Lu He Winery’s wine, hoping to take some authentic wine back with him before returning to his country.

After concluding the business, Gong Yan saw the man off. Butler Fu returned to the iron gate, exchanged a few words with the lady outside, and then invited her in. On the path from the gate to the entrance of the house, Gong Yan, standing by the tea table, watched from afar as a lady dressed all in white approached.

She wore a high-profile, fashionable wide-brimmed hat, and a necklace of Australian South Sea white pearls around her neck, giving her an air of wealth and elegance. A streak of vivid red lipstick was unusually sensual in the winter sunlight.

Gong Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly. She had assumed the lady would be close to her own age, but only when the woman walked closer did Gong Yan realize she was three or four years younger than expected, estimated to be twenty-six or twenty-seven.

Not only that, the woman had long, curly hair that was somewhere between white and flaxen blonde, making her both sensual and elegantly dignified. What was most striking were her olive-green eyes. Perhaps because green is the source of life, those olive-green pupils invariably made one associate her with words like “youth” and “vitality.”

“Hello, Madam Gong.” She spoke with a pure British accent, apparently unable to speak Chinese.

Gong Yan took the cigarette from her red lips, stubbed it out, and lightly glanced at the hand extended towards her. She gave a handshake that was neither too firm nor too light. “Hello, Miss Ian, please sit.”

She motioned for her to sit down. The teacups on the table had already been replaced.

“What business does Miss Ian have with me, Gong Yan?”

Gong Yan’s brows subtly furrowed. She didn’t know the background of this woman named Ian, or why she had suddenly sought her out.

The woman named Ian smiled faintly and produced a scroll from behind her. She unrolled it to reveal a painting of a woman—a young woman in a high-slit qipao (cheongsam), looking enchanting and confident while holding a golden microphone and singing.

Unsurprisingly, Gong Yan should also know the woman in the painting, and their relationship must be anything but superficial.

Miss Ian began to introduce herself, her face full of smiles and chatter. She said she was the daughter of a wealthy Bohemian merchant, who had traveled a long distance. Her interest was painting, and in Bohemia, she was often invited to the royal court to paint for the aristocracy. Later, she grew tired of that life.

Her uncle was an ocean-going ship captain, and from him, she heard tales of another civilization across the vast ocean—a prosperous and wealthy place where the civilization had continued for five thousand years. Its way of life, diet, and religious beliefs were all different from theirs. Ian developed an immense interest and followed her uncle on a long voyage to Haicheng six months ago, quickly falling deeply in love with the place.

Gong Yan listened to her languidly, occasionally agreeing with a word or two. She even thoughtfully offered appropriate adjectives when the other party was struggling to describe a certain cultural phenomenon in Haicheng. Because of this, Miss Ian’s impression of her immediately rose considerably; truly a cultivated and charming lady.

Miss Ian began to steer the conversation back to the main topic. She started talking about a recent encounter, saying she had met a young lady who was enchanting and seductive, whose grape-like eyes were like a whirlpool, captivating people, and whose singing voice was even more beautiful than a siren’s.

Gong Yan nodded, seemingly agreeing with her words.

Seeing this, Miss Ian’s eyes brightened. She pushed her well-rehearsed speech forward and asked, “Then, Madam Gong, do you know this beautiful young lady?”

Gong Yan replied, “No, I don’t.”

Support Rose Lock