Rose Lock - Chapter 25

A black Ford car stopped in front of the Fenghai Ballroom. Hua Manyi got out of the car, stood firm, and spoke to the window of the back seat, “Thank you, Godmother Gong, thank you, Uncle Fu.”

The white lace hollow curtain hanging inside the car window was pulled open, revealing Jiang Yin’s face. She looked somewhat unwell, but as an elder, she still offered a few words of caution, “Manyi, be careful on the road.”

“Okay,” Hua Manyi lifted her eyes and responded timidly, her gaze involuntarily moving past Jiang Yin to the languid woman sitting next to her. The thin red lips had once again held a cigarette after Hua Manyi got out of the car. She was looking down to light it, paying no heed to Hua Manyi’s words. The street lights from across the road illuminated the side of her face, the contours so exquisite it was astonishing—a high nose, thin lips, and lazy eyes, an inherently indifferent demeanor.

The faint, melodious singing of a songstress drifted from the ballroom behind her. Hua Manyi withdrew her gaze and turned to walk towards the dance hall, which was dappled with neon lights. The night wind blew against her, gently swaying her skirt. The loose strands of hair on her forehead stuck tightly to her face, somewhat blurring her vision, yet making certain matters in her heart gradually clear.

They were fundamentally different.

The car slowly started, driving towards the other end of the street. Hua Manyi didn’t notice that after she turned around, the woman in the car, having finished lighting her cigarette, watched her slender figure for a long time.

…

Fang Yu was surprised to see her return and hurriedly pulled her aside, anxiously asking about her health.

It took Hua Manyi a lot of effort to reassure the person that she was fine. Fortunately, Fang Yu had a performance scheduled for nine o’clock that evening, so her room finally quieted down. Xiaoxiao had taken a week off, and at this hour, the manpower and resources were all busy attending to guests in the dance hall, making the second floor feel particularly deserted and quiet.

Half a month ago, because of her outstanding ability and the money she had earned for Fenghai, her room had been equipped with running hot water, a shower head, and a Western bathtub. She no longer had to go to the communal bath on the first floor to shower with others.

The hot water was running in the bathroom. Hua Manyi found a set of pajamas and placed them on the sofa. Only then did she remember that she hadn’t removed the makeup she was wearing. Sitting in front of the glass mirror, the cute, court-style curls on her head were still intact, showing no signs of coming undone. She wore light makeup, the same look she had when she was a young lady—except back then she had everything and was carefree, whereas now she had nothing, not even the right to a luxurious dream.

Hua Manyi pursed her lips and pushed the curls off her head. Her long hair instantly cascaded down like a waterfall, slightly messy. This hairstyle was no longer suitable for her.

She got up, took off the aoqun (traditional Chinese jacket and skirt) she was wearing, and went in to wash up. Half an hour later, she came out with her hair tied up, having changed into a comfortable purple nightgown. The room was too quiet, making her feel empty inside. Passing by the gramophone, she put on some music, then slowly took out a small first-aid kit from under the dressing table.

Dr. Warner had instructed her to change the dressing daily and to try to avoid getting the wound wet when bathing, as it was prone to inflammation. Furthermore, wounds like this were very itchy. She felt disgusted that she hadn’t washed the skin around her chest and the wound during her bath. Covered up all day, the mixture of sweat and medicine odor made her feel revulsed whenever she thought about it.

She went to fetch a basin of hot water and placed it on the dressing table. Only then did she take off her nightgown and sit in front of the dressing table, turning her side to the mirror, slowly unwrapping the gauze. Every time she reached the wound, she had to slow down, afraid that if she was careless, the skin of the wound might stick to the gauze, and a rough removal would cause her pain.

As the gauze was unwrapped layer after layer, the mirror reflected the bloody, blurry wound. The innermost injury was vaguely visible with stitched thread. The skin that had been turned open had adhered together, growing new, pink flesh, surrounded by redness. Compared to the rest of her skin, it was ugly and terrifying.

Hua Manyi stared blankly at the wound in the mirror, remaining motionless for a long time. Her memory couldn’t help but drift back three years ago, when she was thirteen or fourteen and was showered with everyone’s affection in the Hua family.

She had once seen a scar in the same spot on her mother. When she asked about it, her mother replied that it was a scar left when she took a bullet for her father in her youth, and because of that, her father quickly fell deeply in love with her. She remembered clearly that her mother’s eyes held an unconcealed look of love and happiness when speaking of the incident.

“Am I very foolish…” Attempting an imitation, but only creating an unsightly scar, while that person’s eyes consistently only saw someone else. Hua Manyi could only return lonely and pitifully to be a dancing girl, secretly tending to her wounds in the dead of night.

Tears silently streamed down, blurring her vision. The bare shoulder and the ugly scar reflected in the mirror contrasted sharply, becoming indistinct and hazy at this moment.

Realizing she was crying, Hua Manyi quickly wiped away her tears, took bottles of medicinal liquor from the first-aid kit, and lined them up in order, ready to apply the medicine one by one.

Thump, thump, thump

A knock suddenly sounded on the door. Hua Manyi’s hand trembled, nearly knocking over a bottle of medicinal liquor. The knocking continued. Hua Manyi composed herself, making her voice sound normal, and called towards the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Gong Yan.” The woman’s languid voice suddenly came from outside the door. Hua Manyi’s movements stalled, and it took her a while to collect herself, “Godmother Gong? It’s so late, didn’t you go back to the winery? I was about to go to sleep.”

Saying this, Hua Manyi quickly got up and switched off the lights in the room, pretending as if she were really going to bed.

Gong Yan watched the white lace curtain on the small window of the door suddenly darken, and her brows furrowed tightly.

“Hua Manyi, open the door.”

“But I’m asleep. If Godmother Gong has anything to say, let’s talk about it tomorrow.” The end of her sentence even carried a tired yawn.

“Hua Manyi, if you don’t open the door, I’ll get the key.” The woman outside suddenly became persistent, determined to enter. Hua Manyi was still standing by the light switch, the darkness enveloping her exposed skin.

The fingers resting on the switch slightly curled, hesitating for a long time. It wasn’t until the woman outside impatiently ordered her again that she flipped the switch. In an instant, the light illuminated her brightly.

With a click, the door was half-opened. Hua Manyi raised her left hand across her chest, shielding her vital areas, but she knew that at this moment, she was wearing nothing but a pair of panties to facilitate dressing her wounds. Her long hair was casually twisted twice and hung at the back of her neck, though a few small strands of loose hair escaped and clung to her central spine.

Although they were on the second floor, the light from outside the hall still shone up, falling through the opened door gap onto half of Hua Manyi’s body. Her skin was as fair as snow. While her slender arm shielded her chest, it was still impossible not to notice the deep shadow above her arm, her luscious chest partially exposed.

Her waist was slender like a vine, her legs long and lean, and her swan neck was delicate and easily broken.

Before Hua Manyi could speak, the woman in front of her suddenly stepped to the left, blocking the neon light shining in and obstructing any possibility of viewing her from various angles.

“Hua Manyi!”

She looked up at the woman, whose tone had suddenly turned cold and sharp. The other party seemed very annoyed, as if Hua Manyi had done something to offend her, yet wasn’t it she who had demanded the door be opened?

Puzzled, Hua Manyi gazed at her calmly until her wrist was firmly grasped. She was pulled a few steps into the room, and with a bang, the door was shut tight.

Now, the woman stood within half a meter of her, scrutinizing her, waiting for an explanation. Hua Manyi closed her eyes, her face paling. When her hand was yanked just now, the woman had grabbed her right hand. That forceful tug had suddenly strained the wound on her right shoulder blade. She could even feel the pain of the stitches, sewn barely two days ago, rubbing against the new flesh due to the pull.

Perhaps it was too painful. She inhaled sharply, her shoulders slightly hunched, making her prominent collarbones stand out. Her lips instantly lost their color, like a white rose about to wither.

The woman finally noticed her abnormality. She went around behind her to take a look, her red lips slightly parted as if to say something, but her body moved first. She helped Hua Manyi to the dressing table, picked up a pair of tweezers, dipped a piece of cotton in medicinal liquor, and gently applied the medicine.

Hua Manyi sat pale-faced in the chair, her back to the dressing table, allowing the woman to treat her. The medicinal liquor, wet and cold, touched her skin. Its strong potency brought a sharp, stinging pain.

She closed her eyes and endured it until a cool, gentle touch suddenly rested on the intact skin above the wound, and the faint warmth of breath permeated her pores.

A pair of hands smoothed over her shoulders. The woman behind her kissed her shoulder blade, and the familiar scent of smoke wafted over. The kiss lingered, causing Hua Manyi’s eyelashes to flutter. She slowly opened her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Manyi. Godmother Gong was wrong just now.”

The author has something to say: Gong Yan: Wife, I was wrong. The pain in your body hurts my heart. Hua Manyi: …

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