There's Something Wrong With My Little White Flower - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Diamonds and the Eternal Star

Xu Zhaozhao was not originally named Xu Zhaozhao. When her mother, who was illiterate and had never left Nánxī Town in her lifetime, struggled for three days and three nights in bed, finally giving birth to her, her father, standing in the courtyard, heard the words “precious daughter” and immediately smashed the only intact orchid-patterned porcelain bowl in his hand to the ground.

The sound of the shattering porcelain reached the room. A tear fell from the corner of her mother’s eye, mingled with the ignorant fear of a world yet unknown, and she opened her mouth to let out her first cry.

Lying in bed for only two days, her mother struggled to get up. Her father had once again disappeared. The frail, small-footed woman laboriously moved to clean the room and tidy the granary. After much hesitation, she finally took out an egg and made herself a bowl of hot soup.

She had not been treated well during her pregnancy, her body thin as a bundle of sticks. Now, having given birth to a daughter, she felt deeply sinful. This egg was the only nourishment she received during her confinement, for the daughter who cried out for milk but was never anticipated to be born.

Her mother named Xu Zhaozhao “Zhaodì” (meaning ‘attract a younger brother’), a common name in the countryside. The little girl grew with the breeze, gradually becoming a thin, faded shadow, much like her mother.

Life grew harder by the day. There was war in the east and turmoil in the west. In troubled times, human life was cheap. Around the age of seven, her long-absent father suddenly returned home, his face covered in bruises, followed by two burly men.

Her mother was crying, and her skinny, small younger brother in her arms was also crying. After a long time, the men finally let go of her father. Her father, like a defeated dog, knelt before her mother, weeping and sniffling as he confessed his mistakes, his voice slurred and repulsive.

That was how she was sold into the Chunhui Troupe. The sky that day was also grey and murky. Confused, she followed her mother, winding through layers of corridors, into a room carved with beams, where dust covered the heads of carved phoenixes. On an Eight Immortals chair sat a man with a frown, speaking with a hint of distaste.

“She’s seven already. That’s too old. I don’t know if she can be taught.” The man haggled with her mother. “It’s only because I have a soft heart and can’t bear to see you so pitiful that I’ll take her in…”

When they parted, her mother stroked the top of her head repeatedly: “Zhaor, you can only blame a woman’s naturally cheap life. If there is a next life, don’t be a girl again. Mother is leaving. You must struggle here, struggle with all your might to survive. Do you remember?”

She changed from Xu Zhaodì to Xu Cháocháo. The man, holding a jade cigarette holder, used that same lazy, disdainful tone: “If the love between two hearts is everlasting, why should they be together day and night. From today on, you are Xu Chaochao. Tsk… such a good name is wasted on you.”

Xu Zhaozhao held onto her mother’s parting words: she must struggle with all her might to survive this endless, suffering world. In the depths of winter, water dripping from the eaves turned to ice. Her old cotton shoes landed on the ground, and the cold penetrated straight to her bones. Her whole body felt frozen, ready to shatter with a tap. She had to clench her teeth and practice in the courtyard, circle after circle.

“The ice wheel on the sea island has just begun to turn… I am like the Goddess Chang’e leaving the Moon Palace… quietly lonely in the vast palace of the moon, ah, the Moon Palace, where the jade bridge leans against the railing…”

She joined the troupe at seven and first stepped onto the stage at thirteen. The dazzling headdress felt a thousand pounds heavy, pulling her head down. But the troupe master scolded her sternly: “Lift your head! Once you are on stage, you must forget your cheap life and sing out the spirit of the Imperial Concubine!”

She was never truly able to sing out the spirit of the Imperial Concubine. Soon after, during a banquet, she splashed wine all over a certain wealthy customer. The sound of breaking bowls and dishes echoed, like a return to that moment when she heard the customer curse: “You refuse a toast, so you get a penalty drink!”

The troupe master’s temples pulsed with rage: “Who do you think you are, some valuable commodity? I paid five silver dollars for you! You want to rebel? Pay me back ten times first!”

Without a word, she ran deep into the restaurant, with people chasing after her. The clamor and curses were loud, like a string of firecrackers. Just as Xu Zhaozhao felt she could no longer run, she bumped straight into someone.

A gentle, soft fragrance filled her nostrils, like jasmine blossoms on the branches of her hometown, or like gardenias on a summer night in June. In any case, it was white and clean. She heard someone say: “Little sister, why are you crying?”

She looked up, realizing she had run into a woman. Unlike most people she had met, this person was immaculate, as if she had just been taken out of a jewelry box. She wore a silk dress in a Western style, her hair slightly curled, looking extremely beautiful.

Later, this person took her to a school. There were many girls her age here. She heard them call her “Principal Ruan.”

“If you wish, you can stay and study here,” Ruan Jiyun told her. “I bought your indenture. When you grow up and earn money, come back and buy it from me.”

Principal Ruan seemed to be very, very busy.

This was the conclusion Xu Zhaozhao reached through observation. She heard from other classmates that Principal Ruan was a highly capable person. She ran a famous fashion company in Shanghai and established the girls’ school purely out of charity, specifically to help girls like them who were either from impoverished backgrounds or orphaned and helpless.

At school, she rushed to catch up. She hadn’t learned to read or write, only knowing the limited lyrics from opera scripts. Everything started from scratch. In between sweeping the courtyard, when she practiced writing with a broom twig on the sand, she remembered her mother’s words.

You must struggle with all your might to survive.

“Why are you writing here?” a female voice suddenly interrupted her practice.

Principal Ruan had appeared behind her without her knowing. She must have just returned from outside, her coat carrying a hint of snow. Her bright eyes looked at her, and for some reason, Xu Zhaozhao felt a sense of shame.

“I am practicing writing here…” she whispered. “Using the sand…”

Ruan Jiyun frowned slightly: “The study committee member has exercise books. You can go ask her for one. Is there a reason you didn’t get one?”

“No, no!” Xu Zhaozhao quickly explained. “That paper is too good…” She spoke with a hint of difficulty and shyness. “My handwriting is not good. I don’t deserve to write on such fine paper.”

She felt Principal Ruan sigh, and then she spoke in a firm, unquestionable tone: “From now on, you will practice on paper. Go and get it whenever you want to practice. Things are meant to be used. Don’t feel that you don’t deserve it.”

No one had ever said such words to her. Xu Zhaozhao looked up in surprise. She had become accustomed to everyone telling her that she was a girl, that she didn’t deserve respect, and that she shouldn’t dream of things that didn’t belong to her. This was the first time someone had told her this.

Before she could say anything more, another set of footsteps sounded from behind. A tall, young woman quickly walked over.

Unlike Principal Ruan, this lady looked exceptionally smart and modern. She wore a long black coat, her calves wrapped in riding boots, appearing straight and long. As she walked to Principal Ruan’s side, she handed over a pair of gloves she was holding.

“You forgot your gloves in the car again. How are you supposed to hold a pen if your hands freeze?” Her voice was also very gentle, carrying a familiar, helpless tone of complaint.

Principal Ruan smiled, allowing the other person to take her hand and meticulously put the soft lambskin gloves on her. Throughout the exchange, they said nothing more, but Xu Zhaozhao sensed a peculiar, warm atmosphere flowing between the two women.

She felt like she, standing beside them, was exceptionally redundant.

Three Years Later.

“Sister Jiyun! I got the materials!” On a certain summer day, with the sound of cicadas buzzing, Xu Zhaozhao jumped off her bicycle, ignoring her sweat, and rushed upstairs with her bag.

The door flew open with a whoosh, and Ruan Jiyun’s slightly innocent face appeared before her. She quickly put a finger to her lips in a “shush” gesture: “Quiet, quiet! Did you forget this is a secret mission?”

Xu Zhaozhao stuck out her tongue and tiptoed into the office: “The foreign manager tried to trick me at first, but hey, I didn’t listen to him. I got all the bolts of fabric you asked for!”

Then, as if remembering something, she added: “Oh, by the way, Sister, why are we secretly ordering fabric? Didn’t we usually go through Miss Jiang’s trading company? Oh… you’re hiding something from her!”

Over the years, the clever girl had observed that there seemed to be a special understanding between her principal and Miss Jiang. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. In short, whenever they stood together, they seemed particularly harmonious, particularly… like a family.

While she was pressing for answers, Ruan Jiyun had already draped the fabric she brought back onto a dress form. The snow-light satin weave dazzled the eye. Xu Zhaozhao exclaimed: “My, that’s beautiful! What are you going to use it for?”

The satin in her hands was smooth as water. Ruan Jiyun lightly stroked the material, her mind already set on the design she intended to create. Seeing Xu Zhaozhao’s earnest, puppy-like demeanor, she couldn’t help but smile: “If you promise to keep the secret, I’ll tell you.”

Xu Zhaozhao nodded repeatedly.

“Wow… isn’t that…” After learning Ruan Jiyun’s entire plan, the girl’s eyes widened in surprise, as if she had heard something out of a fairytale. But soon, she became excited: “I’m willing! I promise not to tell anyone, especially Miss Jiang…”

After the school affairs were settled, Ruan Jiyun saw that it was getting late, picked up her handbag, and prepared to leave. As soon as she stepped out of the school gate, she heard a car horn by the roadside.

Meng Fanshi, dressed in red, smiled: “You only ask to see me once Jiang Peifeng goes to France. If she finds out, she’ll be furiously jealous, won’t she? Don’t leave me high and dry then.”

“If I speak up for you, she’ll be even angrier,” Ruan Jiyun knew she was joking and smiled as she slipped into the car. “Sister Meng, the matter I asked you to handle…”

“Don’t worry. The small banquet hall at the Pao Gallery Hotel on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, including the catering, has all been arranged for you,” Meng Fanshi handed her a note. “Jiang Peifeng really lacks romantic flair. You’re the one who thought of this first.”

Ruan Jiyun carefully examined the menu: “What does it matter who thought of it first? These days are uneasy. She is under more pressure than I am, with all the various donations and fundraising efforts. People are trying to squeeze every last penny out of her factory… I wanted to do something for her, to make her happy.”

“I know you two are deeply in love, but you don’t have to rub it in like that.” Meng Fanshi shot her a look. “By the way, I don’t know if I’ll make it to your banquet. Something came up in my family, and I will probably have to go to the US soon.”

The two fell into silence. Over the years, the women, with Meng Fanshi as the public leader, had organized a Women’s Charity Association, donating money and goods, establishing schools, and doing many important things. Now, this sudden separation took Ruan Jiyun by surprise.

However, she knew they were in a time of turmoil, and no one knew if they would ever meet again. She could only smile and say: “Then I wish you a smooth and successful trip, Sister Meng.”

A touch of melancholy settled in the air. Meng Fanshi smiled and stopped the car: “Alright. Tonight, let’s have a proper farewell dinner, and consider it my congratulation to you and Peifeng—a happy life together for a hundred years.”

Jiang Peifeng, uncharacteristically, didn’t discover Ruan Jiyun’s secret arrangements right away. After returning from France, she was swamped with a mountain of factory and business affairs, busy with countless tasks. It wasn’t until she returned home that night that she found Ruan Jiyun waiting for her.

Elder Master Jiang had been persuaded by his children to retire in Hong Kong, and Jiang Zhiyu and Julia had taken positions in the Nanjing government. Only the two of them were the masters of the Jiang family mansion now. Under the bright electric lights, the Eight Immortals table was laden with steaming dishes. The aroma stimulated her appetite. Jiang Peifeng belatedly realized she was hungry.

Ruan Jiyun must have just showered. Her long hair was wet, draped behind her. She looked as fresh as a newly bloomed lotus. She smiled and uncovered a large blue-and-white porcelain bowl with a lotus pattern.

Inside the bowl was a simmering chicken broth base, topped with snow-white silver thread noodles, garnished with scallions, egg, and green vegetables. The aroma was rich. She saw Ruan Jiyun’s red lips part as she spoke four words to her: “Happy Birthday.”

It was her birthday again.

Jiang Peifeng was stunned: “I was too busy, I forgot myself.” She quickly walked to the table, took Ruan Jiyun’s hand, and gently kissed it to her lips.

The fingers near her lips slightly recoiled. She gently held the hand, not allowing her to shyly escape: “These noodles look unfamiliar. They don’t look like Wang Ma’s cooking…”

“I made them.” Ruan Jiyun replied, blushing. “It’s my first time cooking. Would Miss Jiang be willing to honor me by trying them?”

Jiang Peifeng looked at her, her clear, phoenix eyes shining. Ruan Jiyun felt a little nervous. She reached for the soup spoon on the table as a cover, but just as she was about to put it into the bowl, her wrist was grasped again.

“Aren’t they for me to eat?” Jiang Peifeng pulled her into her lap, asking in her ear, “Or, do you want to taste it first?”

The atmosphere instantly became ambiguous. Sitting on Jiang Peifeng’s lap, Ruan Jiyun had to slightly lower her head and playfully asked: “How are you going to eat like this?”

Her gaze fell into the other’s eyes. The two were close, so close they could almost feel each other’s rapid heartbeats. Heat emanated between their lips, gently brushing against her soft cheek, elusive yet near.

Ruan Jiyun felt one arm wrapped around her waist, while the other hand held her right hand, their fingers tightly intertwined. She felt a warm flush. She felt Jiang Peifeng lovingly caress her fingers, slipping something onto one of them.

She was startled to full alertness. Jiang Peifeng had already released her hand. She brought her fingers closer to examine them, finding a ring on her ring finger. Set on a platinum base, three diamonds were arranged like a crown: two slightly smaller, flanking a central pear-shaped diamond, brilliant and glittering.

“I specially commissioned it in France,” Jiang Peifeng gently kissed her hair. “Although I should be in a more formal posture right now, please marry me, Ruan Jiyun.”

At these words, the person in her arms clearly froze. A blush, like spreading petals, bloomed on her face with endless spring color. Ruan Jiyun turned away, half-annoyed, half-shy: “Who told you to say it first…”

Jiang Peifeng was astonished. The person in her arms jumped down, pulled her hand, dragged her up, and led her straight to the bedroom.

“I was planning to let you finish your longevity noodles, and then show you this…” The person leading the way mumbled, as if a very important plan had been ruined by her, and she pulled the cover off the dress form.

It was a wedding dress.

A pure white wedding gown, adorned with rich lace, shimmering rhinestones, and layers of large skirt that had pearls arranged into the shape of roses. The entire dress seemed to be floating with an aura, as if stained by moonlight, exquisite and beautiful.

Ruan Jiyun pursed her lips: “I spent half a month making this dress… I drew the design myself, personally selected the accessories, and stitched it stitch by stitch…”

I found the best designs I could find and used all my knowledge, just to give you a unique gift.

“Miss Jiang, I also want to ask you, will you marry me?”

Before she could finish, she was pulled tightly into an embrace. That embrace was always warm and safe, carrying a feeling of wholehearted indulgence and devotion. She felt a kiss on her forehead, and then the person said: “Miss Ruan, if I have you by my side, I ask for nothing else in this life.”

As a wedding dress designer, Xu Zhaozhao later attended many weddings. Those weddings were incredibly grand and luxurious, yet the most precious memory that remained in her heart was a small evening banquet that might not even be called a wedding.

It was a banquet hosted by her principal, Ruan Jiyun. She and several other students from Fenghua School were initially there to help arrange the venue, but were later invited to attend as guests, witnessing this special ceremony.

The private garden room at the Pao Gallery Hotel was adorned and enveloped by fragrant white roses. The number of guests attending the evening banquet was small. There was a young man in a suit, with a blonde, blue-eyed foreign lady beside him, and on the other side, several fashionably dressed women. Everyone looked extremely polite, quietly waiting for the couple to enter.

The band played a beautiful string melody. In the sound of the violin, Xu Zhaozhao saw Principal Ruan, wearing a pure white wedding dress, enter the venue arm-in-arm with another woman.

That was perhaps the most beautiful scene she had ever witnessed in her life. Both girls were wearing wedding dresses. Their hands were tightly intertwined, their expressions as they gazed at each other tender and deeply affectionate.

A beautiful lady in a red dress served as the officiant. She read the vows with a beaming smile, asking the two brides in turn: “Do you promise to spend your life with her, to support and accompany each other, no matter how the years change, wishing for love to endure forever?”

It was a moving vow. At that time, Xu Zhaozhao could not yet understand whether this kind of relationship was shocking or morally correct, but seeing the two girls smile at each other, she found tears welling up in her eyes.

Amidst the music, the couple danced the first opening dance. The guests soon joined in. The melody traveled through the night wind, drifting farther and farther, while the slowly dissipating clouds in the sky illuminated a clear, bright moon.

In her sixteenth year, Xu Zhaozhao suddenly came to understand something called love.

It had nothing to do with status, age, or whether one was beautiful or clever enough. And it was also irrelevant to—gender. It was simply because, in the vast crowd, you met someone whom you had never met before, but of whom you knew with certainty that their future belonged to you.

Shortly after this wedding, war erupted again. The students of Fenghua Girls’ School were temporarily organized. They formed dozens of small teams, with older students leading younger ones, to transfer to Guangzhou overnight.

At the train station, Xu Zhaozhao tightly held the hand of the younger student assigned to her care. She was a girl less than ten years old. Although very nervous, she was sensible and silent. As the two walked to the dock, she met Principal Ruan again.

Ruan Jiyun touched their hair and said gently: “You must all be obedient. Older sisters, take good care of your younger sisters. Can you do that?”

The distant sound of cannon fire could be vaguely heard. Xu Zhaozhao suddenly realized that this might not be a peaceful farewell. She subconsciously asked: “Sister, are you afraid?”

“I am afraid,” Ruan Jiyun replied. “But fear cannot make us retreat. With you behind me, we older sisters will struggle with all our might to protect you. Zhaozhao, take care of your little sister. We will meet again.”

She had no time to say more, hastily handing them over to the people on the ship. Xu Zhaozhao watched her figure continue to move through the crowd below. After a while, someone walked over and took her hand.

A ship’s whistle sounded in her ear. The ship slowly began to move. The little girl beside her finally asked timidly: “Sister, I’m a little scared.”

Xu Zhaozhao smiled. She crouched down, straightened the girl’s scarf, and whispered: “Don’t be afraid. Big Sister is here.”

Even if the world was full of hardship, even if hope was scarce, and she had to struggle with all her might to overcome the pain and difficulty, she had been fortunate enough to witness love with her own eyes. So, even if there were a thousand obstacles ahead, she would strive to walk on.

Because they would continue to walk, hand-in-hand, toward the world where love and the future could be embraced.

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