Chapter 712

Especially that line:

Emperor Jing once entrusted his concubines' sons, saying, "After I die, treat them well." Consort Li became angry and refused, speaking disrespectfully; Emperor Jing harbored resentment but said nothing.

On his deathbed, Emperor Jing of Han entrusted his favorite concubine, Consort Li, to care for his other children. But Consort Li, narrow-minded, refused and spoke insolently.

Later, Consort Li and her son were both deposed.

At noon, Li Heng deliberately read this passage of classical Chinese in front of her—wasn’t that also a test of her?

Wasn’t he indirectly telling her: if she couldn’t be broad-minded and accept other women, she could never hold the position of chief advisor?

And what does the position of chief advisor represent?

It is an equal to Yu Shuheng—a role whose significance and depth go without saying.

On one side is her desire to "monopolize" love, to "win just one heart"; on the other is his ambition, his open strategy.

He offered her a pie, yet placed a golden circlet upon her head—Zhou Shihé found herself trapped in an agonizing dilemma.

She had underestimated this man before; he smiled at everyone, never put on airs, yet a single casual move had already thrown her heart into chaos.

Suddenly she wondered: had the scene just now in the kitchen—his kiss with Suìsuì—been part of his plan? Was he deliberately letting her see it? To make her jealous? To make her suffer? To push her sooner toward him and down the path he laid out?

The rain grew heavier. When Zhou Shihé finally came to her senses, she brushed her dark hair back with her right hand and realized it was half-drenched.

Back home, she found a dry towel and gently dried her hair.

Then came the waiting.

She checked the time—it was 6:46.

Time slipped away; as she calmed herself and waited patiently, Li Heng and Mai Sui came to find her.

Hearing footsteps at the stairwell, Zhou Shihé lifted her right wrist—7:01.

Had they kissed for nearly twenty minutes?

Thinking of the man’s masterful kissing technique, Zhou Shihé’s chest rose and fell slightly, and her doubts faded.

"Shihé, we’re planning to watch a movie—come with us," Mai Sui hurried over as they reached the second floor, slipping her arm through Zhou’s.

Zhou Shihé had wanted to say she wasn’t feeling well and let them go alone, but meeting Li Heng’s expectant gaze, she simply replied, "Alright."

The cinema was in Wujiaochang—not large, with no new releases.

After browsing, Mai Sui stared at "Red Sorghum" for a while and suggested: "How about we watch this one? I read in the paper that last year it won some big award at the Berlin International Film Festival—Shihé, do you remember which one?"

Zhou Shihé replied quietly, "The Golden Bear. This film is truly excellent."

Li Heng asked, "Have you seen it before?"

Zhou Shihé nodded. "Yes, last Spring Festival with my cousin in Yuhang."

All three agreed, bought tickets, and entered the theater for "Red Sorghum."

It was coincidental—they were nearly the last to enter; they’d barely found their seats when the film began.

Set in Gaomi, Shandong during the War of Resistance, the film tells the story of two lovers breaking free from feudal constraints to run a sorghum liquor distillery, only to see the woman and her workers brutally murdered by Japanese soldiers for participating in the resistance.

Truthfully, he had seen this film last year with Song Yu in Beijing.

But now that Mai Sui and Zhou were watching, he couldn’t say no—he had to pretend it was his first time and focus entirely on accompanying the two women.

The three sat against the wall.

Mai Sui, walking ahead, naturally took the innermost seat; Zhou Shihé sat in the middle; Li Heng sat beside Zhou.

During the film, Li Heng’s right hand unintentionally brushed against Zhou’s left hand.

At first, Zhou showed no reaction, staring straight ahead, eyes fixed on the screen.

After a while, seeing no response, Li Heng grew bolder and directly grasped her hand.

Zhou finally reacted—her left hand subtly twisted, trying to pull away.

But Li Heng wouldn’t let go—he changed his grip to a firm hold, clasping her hand tightly.

Zhou quickly glanced at him, then glanced sideways at her friend, lowered her eyebrows, and pulled harder—but to no avail. She pouted slightly and cast him a subtle, resentful look.

Li Heng leaned close and whispered, "The most perfect love of my life is meeting you."

Zhou’s heart stirred slightly, but her face remained expressionless as she muttered three words: "What about Song Yu?"

Li Heng answered evasively: "Five minutes."

He wasn’t lying.

If Song Yu was his karmic trial in a past life, then Zhou Shihé is his nemesis in this one.

In his past life, Song Yu; in this life, Zhou Shihé—these two women were the only ones he fell in love with at first sight and the only ones he actively pursued.

He didn’t answer her question. Zhou Shihé, as if expecting this, took a deep breath, glanced at her watch—7:38—and returned her gaze to the screen, cold and silent.

But her left hand remained in Li Heng’s palm, warm.

During the first minute of holding hands, she felt unbearable—her mind blank, terrified of being noticed by Sui Sui. Her eyes were on the screen, yet she saw nothing.

The second minute, her mind was still frozen.

The third minute, she began to regain composure—she glanced discreetly at their clasped hands, then cautiously at him.

Unluckily, her gaze met his—he flashed her a bright, clean smile with perfect teeth.

His eyes felt like a lethal poison—she recoiled instantly and turned back to the screen.

The fourth minute: the first thirty seconds, she watched the film; the last thirty, she silently counted seconds in her head.

In those mere thirty seconds, she relived her entire youth.

In the blank canvas of her youth, his shadow slowly filled every corner.

The fifth minute—perhaps knowing it was the final minute—she stopped struggling, ceased resisting, and let herself be held, her heart echoing only his words: "The most perfect love of my life is meeting you."

She admitted to herself that she was slow to warm to love.

But those words were like an atomic bomb dropped into her heart, obliterating all reluctance and resentment in one sweep.

A woman’s intuition told her that Li Heng had spoken those words sincerely, without pretense.

But she also knew this man was playing balance—he’d spent his wedding night with Sui Sui last night, and now tonight he came to comfort her.

At this thought, Zhou Shihé’s softened heart grew slightly bitter again. She lifted her wrist again—7:43.

Perfect timing—exactly five minutes had passed.

Zhou Shihé calmly moved her left hand, then waited…

Li Heng stared quietly at her profile for a moment, then, with perfect propriety, released her hand and murmured softly, "It’s been nearly two months since I last heard you play piano—I suddenly miss hearing you play 'Raindrop'."

He hadn’t mentioned it, but now that he had, Zhou’s delicate lips pouted again—memories of his countless forceful kisses flooded her mind like a runaway tide, making her cheeks burn with shame.

Fortunately,

the theater was dimly lit, so her flushed face wasn’t obvious.

The moment Li Heng released her hand, Zhou felt an inexplicable sense of loss—but she quickly regained her composure, clasped her hands gently over her abdomen, and focused intently on the film.

"Red Sorghum" runs 91 minutes, but because the story was so compelling, the audience felt it passed in the blink of an eye.

As they exited with the crowd, Li Heng asked Mai Sui, "Wife, was it good?"

Mai Sui was uncomfortable with him calling her "wife" in public; she glanced around nervously, then at Zhou’s unreactive face, and finally sighed in relief: "It was good, but so tragic—all those workers nearly died."

Li Heng sighed. "True—but that’s the reality of the War of Resistance."

It was past nine. As they passed Zhang Bing’s braised meat shop, they found it still open, crowded with people.

Li Heng walked over and asked, "Old Zhang, why aren’t you closing up and heading back to school?"

Inside the shop, besides Zhang Bing and Bai Wanying, were Wei Xiaozhu, Dai Qing, Wei Sisi, Liu Yanling, Zhou Zhangming, Li Guang, and Tang Dailing.

It was almost a mini dorm gathering.

Bai Wanying was cleaning paper cranes by the window and replied, "We’re leaving soon. Did you three just come from the cinema?"

Li Heng confirmed, then watched her hands curiously.

If he remembered correctly, these paper cranes were folded by Bai Wanying after Li Guoyi’s incident.

She’d folded one jarful originally.

Later, Wei Xiaozhu and Dai Qing helped fold more.

Seeing his confusion, Bai Wanying explained, "We’re going to burn them soon."

Seeing him stunned, she asked, "Didn’t you read the newspaper? Li Guoyi was executed today."

Li Heng said, "I haven’t had time to read the paper—how so fast?"

Wei Sisi replied, "The newspaper said his crimes were exceptionally cruel and severe, so they handled it strictly and swiftly."

Bai Wanying nodded. "Actually, it was mainly because Liu An’s family pushed hard—otherwise, it would’ve taken at least half a year under normal procedures. But mostly, it’s because of the special circumstances."

Hearing this, Li Heng recalled Wei Xiaozhu’s earlier remark: Liu An’s family had considerable influence, even connections at high levels. That’s why Liu An’s father could betray Wei Xiaozhu’s father and still remain unscathed.

As for "special circumstances," everyone understood.

The group walked back to campus together; on the way, Mai Sui and Zhou Shihé chatted continuously with Wei Xiaozhu.

Li Heng unconsciously fell behind with Dai Qing and asked, "Manning and Ye Ning are both busy—why are you here?"

Dai Qing smiled. "I’m student council president now—if I did everything myself, what’s the difference between me and a freshman?"

Li Heng gave a thumbs-up. "Very wise—you’re destined for politics."

Dai Qing asked, "What movie did you see today?"

Li Heng replied, "Nothing new—just an old classic, 'Red Sorghum.'"

Dai Qing said, "A big film’s coming soon—'The Founding of a Republic.' Should be great."

Li Heng nodded. "I saw the news too, but it’s still over twenty days away."

As he spoke, he glanced ahead at Wei Xiaozhu and lowered his voice: "Has Li Guoyi’s execution affected Wei Xiaozhu’s mood?"

Dai Qing shook his head. "Not really. They weren’t romantically involved. She was just saddened by her kindness.

It’s been nearly four months now—both Liu An and Li Guoyi are gone. When she heard the news, she sighed, but otherwise, no big reaction."

On the way, Zhang Bing and Tang Daling found a deserted stretch of ground surrounded entirely by stones, and the group watched as Bai Wanying lit hundreds of folded paper cranes with matches and burned them.