There's Something Wrong With My Little White Flower - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Fallen Republican Era Young Lady X The Overseas-Educated Paternal Aunt

One Year Later.

Jiang Peifeng couldn’t help but smile, seeing the little white flower’s face look like she was about to cry: “If you keep this up, I’m afraid the captain will have to turn the ship back to Shanghai because a certain girl is already crying from homesickness before even leaving port.”

Her teasing only made Ruan Jiyun feel sadder: “You still have the nerve to mock me! If you hadn’t insisted that I shouldn’t apply to Montpellier as well, would I be this worried?”

Jiang Peifeng helped her tie the belt of her cloak tightly, preventing the sea wind from chilling her, and then said: “A full scholarship to the Paris School of Fine Arts, with a recommendation letter personally written by Miss Emily. Sister Ruan, if you dare miss an opportunity like that, I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

She spread her arms, facing the wind, letting the cool breeze flow through her fingertips: “That is your future. What’s the fear in studying apart for two years? I look forward to your early graduation and success back home.”

In the few years they had been together, Jiang Peifeng’s understanding of the little white flower had deepened. Ruan Jiyun seemed fragile, yet she was like an unpolished jade—with just a little guidance, she could shine brightly. Jiang Peifeng had accompanied her step by step, starting from literacy, witnessing her rapid growth. Perhaps because she was born amidst negation, she cherished hard-won opportunities more than anyone else.

However… shifting her gaze to the increasingly radiant face beside her, Jiang Peifeng smiled: “I hear the French are naturally romantic. With your looks, Sister Ruan, I fear you’ll attract attention the moment you step onto campus.”

Ruan Jiyun’s cheeks flushed. Her large, crystal-clear eyes blinked softly at her: “Is that so? I, on the other hand, think that a sweet ‘young lady’ like Peifeng is the one most likely to be favored.”

“Sister Ruan,” Jiang Peifeng’s heart fluttered at the flirtatiousness in her eyes, deliberately teasing her, “You call me a young lady, but I wonder who is so timid that they cry and knock on my door in the middle of the night after having a nightmare…”

A small hand immediately feigned a pat on her shoulder. Ruan Jiyun snuggled closer to her. Amidst their playful banter, she heard Ruan Jiyun say with a soft laugh: “Peifeng, look, the sun is rising.”

She looked out toward the deep sea. The dark blue sky was suddenly streaked with brilliant, radiant light.

Although the journey on the ship was monotonous, having Ruan Jiyun as a companion meant Jiang Peifeng didn’t feel particularly bored. Instead, the closer they got to the port, the stronger the feeling of melancholy over their imminent separation became.

Her university town was quite far from Paris, but Jiang Zhiyu was currently in Paris. The letter she sent before departure had probably reached him, and the thought of Ruan Jiyun meeting Jiang Zhiyu again made Jiang Peifeng feel inexplicably stifled.

In the past few years, Ruan Jiyun’s destiny had been completely changed. Now she was a beautiful, confident, modern woman. Would the initially unremarkable relationship with her elder brother change because of this?

It felt like her carefully cultivated little cabbage was about to be devoured by a pig… Fine, to be fair, given her elder brother’s capabilities, he could be considered young and promising, but Jiang Peifeng still glumly rolled over.

Is this just the ‘old mother’ mentality at work? She laughed self-deprecatingly. Unintentionally, an arm reached over from beside the pillow, resting across her body like a playful embrace.

“Is it morning?” Ruan Jiyun’s lazy, kitten-like voice sounded, still carrying a sleepy confusion.

Jiang Peifeng’s body stiffened for a second.

The perpetrator beside her remained unaware. Ruan Jiyun yawned. The berths in the cabin were narrow. In her movement, Jiang Peifeng felt something smooth brush against the back of her hand, which she guessed was Ruan Jiyun’s waist. Her breath caught in surprise, and she quietly drew her arm closer to herself.

She had forgotten that Ruan Jiyun hadn’t returned to her own bed last night because they had stayed up too late playing chess, and instead slept with her. Although it wasn’t the first time they had shared a bed, still… Jiang Peifeng cleared her throat, feigning composure: “Half past five. It’s still quite early.”

Ruan Jiyun sniffed, squeezing closer to her side: “It’s your fault. I’m still sleepy.”

Cradling the soft, fragrant form, Jiang Peifeng felt her ears burning: “Then sleep a little longer.”

The person beside her resumed even breathing, clearly having drifted back to sleep. But half of her body was still pressed against Jiang Peifeng’s arm, and the sensation transmitted through the thin pajamas was impossibly soft.

My little white flower whom I personally raised… Sweat beaded on Jiang Peifeng’s forehead. But what was the reason for this inexplicable, racing heart? It seemed that, somehow, her focus on the little white flower had already started to transcend the task itself.

Gradually, Jiang Peifeng began to feel that half-arm no longer belonged to her. Her consciousness was infinitely magnified, and in sync with Ruan Jiyun’s breathing rhythm, she felt like she was sinking into a soft embrace, going up and down, a breathtaking, tumultuous fall.

She held her breath, carefully withdrawing her arm, and turned her entire body around.

This brought her face-to-face with Ruan Jiyun. The girl’s face was enveloped in the morning light, beautifully unreal. Jiang Peifeng couldn’t help but slow her breathing, afraid of waking her.

The air seemed saturated with Ruan Jiyun’s scent. Jiang Peifeng watched her quietly for a long time, reluctantly tearing her gaze away only when she saw Ruan Jiyun’s eyelashes flutter, as if she wasn’t sleeping soundly.

She felt that staying in this room for one second longer would lead to some unpredictable event. Jiang Peifeng reluctantly got up and quietly exited the cabin.

What she didn’t know was that shortly after she left the cabin, Ruan Jiyun also opened her eyes. A rare hint of confusion appeared in her usually clear and gentle gaze.

They arrived in Paris, France, on a September morning.

The City of Flowers in the morning light was like a rose blooming in the dew. The port area was bustling with people, mostly Westerners with high noses and deep eyes. Seagulls flew against the rosy light, and the bells of the distant cathedral pierced the morning fog, clearly audible.

Jiang Zhiyu, in a crisp Western suit, was already waiting at the port. He smiled when he saw the pair of girls wearing identical dresses appear.

“I calculated the day you would arrive. I’ve been coming to the port every morning for the past few days to wait,” he greeted the two warmly. “The train to the south for Peifeng doesn’t leave until the afternoon, so I’ll take you two to eat first.”

Ruan Jiyun gazed in fascination at the busy streets lined with plane trees and the elegantly dressed Parisian women. The tall, rugged shadow of the distant Eiffel Tower was faintly visible. Staring at that marvelous structure, she felt as if she had stepped into a new world.

Her mood only became low again when it was time for Jiang Peifeng to leave.

There was only one train to Southern France each day. Jiang Zhiyu had booked a first-class seat for his sister in advance. From the moment she got into the car heading to the train station, Ruan Jiyun’s hand remained tightly linked with Jiang Peifeng’s. She kept her lips firmly pressed together, clearly upset and on the verge of tears as she realized the separation was imminent.

Jiang Peifeng comforted her: “It’s only a three-hour train ride in total. I’ll come to see you during the holidays.”

Jiang Zhiyu, not fully understanding the younger girls’ thoughts, also tried to lighten the mood: “I will take good care of Sister Ruan for you. Remember to write when you arrive.”

Jiang Peifeng nodded.

They sat on a long bench in the waiting room. Ruan Jiyun still hadn’t recovered her spirits. Jiang Peifeng had to free one hand and, as she was accustomed to doing, gently stroked her hair.

Everyone knew that the separation was only because they both had their own goals to pursue, but watching her constant companion disappear through the ticket gate, Ruan Jiyun finally couldn’t hold back, and tears streamed down her face.

Even Jiang Zhiyu had to sigh, concluding that this Sister Ruan was truly too close to Peifeng.

Ruan Jiyun’s study abroad life began with this reluctant separation.

The Paris School of Fine Arts, where she was enrolled, was founded in the seventeenth century and is one of the world’s most famous institutions. The coursework was undoubtedly demanding. Excellent students from all over the world gathered there, many from established art families with qualifications far beyond Ruan Jiyun’s reach.

Mornings were dedicated to theory and art appreciation. The French professor’s accent was thick, forcing Ruan Jiyun to drink black coffee while desperately trying to concentrate and discern the essence of the lectures.

Afternoons involved various thematic art practices, group projects, and painting classes. Paris was the city of art, and outside of classes, countless artists frequented museums and galleries. There were endless exhibitions to see every day.

It was demanding but invigorating. Compared to her previous life, Ruan Jiyun was incredibly content. She dedicated almost all her time to catching up.

With the right focus, and never one to shy away from difficulty, Ruan Jiyun achieved a perfect score in her professional exam at the end of the month.

On the very same day, she received a gift delivered by a postman.

It was a letter from Montpellier, accompanied by a large bouquet of roses.

The postman was a young man. He smiled and said: “The sender told me today is your birthday. He asked me to buy the most beautiful flowers on the street and deliver them to you for her. Happy Birthday—beautiful Oriental lady.”

It was a bouquet of champagne roses, their petals still dewy, wrapped in light-colored tissue paper and exuding fragrance. Ruan Jiyun had been too busy to remember her own birthday, but she hadn’t expected Jiang Peifeng to remember. She quickly tipped the postman and went into her room to read the letter.

Jiang Peifeng’s letter was simple, her handwriting as elegant and unrestrained as when they first met.

To Jiyun:

Near the university, there are large flower fields. I can smell the fragrance every morning when I open the window. I regret not being able to share it with you, so I had the postman deliver a piece of that fragrance. Also, congratulations on your birthday.

Missing you—Jiang Peifeng.

Ruan Jiyun read the short letter, a smile unconsciously appearing at the corners of her eyes and lips. She looked around, realizing that apart from textbooks, there was absolutely nothing in the room she could give as a return gift. After thinking it over, she picked up a paintbrush.

When Jiang Peifeng received the reply, the thick envelope contained a stack of sketch papers.

She smiled, her eyes narrowing slightly after a single glance.

To Peifeng:

I loved the flowers you sent.

But I have no flowers to return. After much thought, I thought I’d show you my drawing instead. For my first portrait class, I drew you.

Missing you—Ruan Jiyun.

Ruan Jiyun’s painting skills were now mature. The painting depicted Jiang Peifeng as she looked on the ship. In the faint morning light, the girl stood at the bow. The wind swept up her long hair, revealing a face that combined youthful heroism with beauty.

Jiang Peifeng looked at the drawing again and again, finally carefully hanging the picture above her bed.

When her next letter arrived before Ruan Jiyun half a month later, the contents had changed into a small music box. Opening the button-like mother-of-pearl shell revealed delicate golden springs arranged inside.

To Jiyun:

Your drawing is wonderful. This is the result of our fine craftsmanship class—I made you a music box to play with.

The tune is “Spring” by Schumann, one of my favorites. I wish you always have a beautiful spring.

Missing you—Jiang Peifeng.

If you come in spring, then I will now dust away summer.

Missing you—Ruan Jiyun.

These back-and-forth letters became Ruan Jiyun’s greatest anticipation in her busy academic life. Approximately every two weeks, the postman would knock on Ruan Jiyun’s apartment door with a smile. Sometimes he delivered fresh flowers, sometimes a packet of fragrant chocolate candies. More often, he would tap the box with a confused look, indicating that it held a mysterious surprise lovingly prepared by someone.

Ruan Jiyun accumulated a thick stack of drawings, each paper depicting the same person.

Even when Jiang Zhiyu came to visit, he couldn’t help but sigh: “If this continues, you’ll have enough to hold a solo exhibition for our Miss Jiang Peifeng.”

Ruan Jiyun realized with a start that there was indeed quite a lot of material about Jiang Peifeng in the room. Her face blushed, and she said, trying to cover it up: “The teacher said it’s easier to depict details by drawing the person you know best, so I just…”

Jiang Zhiyu thought, even I am probably not this familiar with Peifeng. The brushstrokes in the paintings were full of tenderness. Anyone who saw these works could discern the massive and deep affection they contained.

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