Chapter 355: I can agree to their marriage

Everyone had left, and the study was unusually silent, like another world cut off.

Zhong Yinghong flung the door shut, stepped over the broken porcelain on the floor, approached Xu Guanshan, and stared straight into his dim eyes.

"I'm asking you." Zhong Yinghong blinked hard, tears spilling, her vision clearing a little, "Is the affair really true?"

Xu Guanshan just looked at her silently, saying nothing.

Zhong Yinghong's heart sank to the bottom of a valley; she could barely stand, bracing her hand on the corner of the table, her body still swaying: "Xu Guanshan, after all these years as husband and wife, don't I deserve a single honest word from you?"

She no longer had the strength to question; her voice sounded more like a plea.

Xu Guanshan gazed at her wet eyes, his expression easing slightly: "It's all in the past."

Those light words fell into her ears, amounting to an admission of the affair. Realizing what it meant, something in Zhong Yinghong's heart collapsed with a boom, and she forced a smile.

Asking who his affair partner was was pointless; Zhong Yinghong didn't ask, only asked him: "Why treat me like this?"

Xu Guanshan couldn't muster a defense; he had momentarily given in to temptation, or perhaps it was just a brief lapse when utterly exhausted—he couldn't recall, it had been too long ago.

Zhong Yinghong lunged at him, punching him blow after blow with all her strength: "Are you even human! Ah Feng is so young—did you let him see that? That's why he panicked, fell down the stairs, broke his arm, and still bears the scar!"

She felt anguish, not only from her husband's betrayal but also from the psychological trauma inflicted on her young son. Thinking back, it was from that time onward that Xu Yanfeng became reluctant to speak, always keeping things bottled up.

Xu Guanshan's jaw was struck by a fist, reddening; he seized Zhong Yinghong's hands, his face twitching: "Enough."

Zhong Yinghong shook off his hand, stepping back bit by bit, putting two meters between them, yet it felt as vast as a heavenly chasm. Thinking of how Xu Yanfeng had kept this hidden since he was eight, holding it in all these years, her heart ached as if being torn apart.

She couldn't touch her own heart, so she clutched at the fabric over her chest.

Years ago, Xu Yanfeng had asked her, "Do you still love my father?" She answered then with absolute certainty, no hesitation: "Of course."

She certainly did, from her youthful, tender days right up to now, yet she hadn't realized that beneath the prosperous facade lay countless wounds.

If she had hesitated even a second or two back then, Xu Yanfeng might have confessed the truth. He did it for her, to keep her from heartbreak and despair, choosing to conceal it and bear the secret alone. He had always been a dutiful child, appearing cold yet deeply caring.

Zhong Yinghong's tears poured out freely, her face drained of color; she felt she was failing as a mother, knowing nothing, living each day in blissful ignorance, dwelling in a woven fantasy.

"This is my final question: besides that one time, has there been any since?" Zhong Yinghong didn't even know what she was saying, her thoughts already shattered, "Don't deceive me."

Xu Guanshan wasn't a blockhead; after so many years as husband and wife with Zhong Yinghong, he did have feelings for her, their marriage was a suitable match of equal standing, but only if there was feeling.

Back then, a lovely story had circulated among their circle.

Xu Guanshan closed his eyes, feeling only a throbbing pain in his forehead; he rubbed it and said weakly, "Those were mistakes made in youth; I'm this old now—what's there to quibble about?"

"Yes or no?" Zhong Yinghong insisted, "Is it really that hard to answer?"

"Yinghong..."

"Yes or no?!"

"If you think Miss Xia is suitable, I can agree to their marriage."

Zhong Yinghong wept openly, her heart pierced with pain.

He refused to give a direct answer—couldn't that already clarify things? What more is there to ask?

In the living room, Xia Xi's furrowed brows never relaxed; she took Xu Yanfeng's hand and pushed him onto the sofa to sit. This wasn't her home, she wasn't familiar with it, so she turned to the dazed Xu Junmo for help: "Where's the medicine box?"

Xu Junmo was even less familiar—he spent most of the year abroad, returning only for holidays. He called a servant over and asked her where the medicine box was kept.

The servant saw Xu Yanfeng sitting there with a bleeding head wound and started: "Should I call a doctor?"

Xu Yanfeng's face was grim: "No."

The servant hurried to fetch the medicine box, brought it over, and handed it to Xia Xi.

Xia Xi pressed her lips, opened the medicine box, and with tweezers held an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to gently wipe the blood from his face, her breathing a little uneven. The blood was gradually cleaned away, revealing the wound's original state—thankfully just a small cut, likely not needing stitches.

Xia Xi breathed a sigh of relief, applied ointment, stuck on a bandage, then tossed the used items into the trash; only then did she have the energy to ask Xu Yanfeng: "What did you say? Why did your father lash out again?"

Xu Yanfeng silently gazed at Xu Junmo sitting opposite him.

Xu Junmo rubbed his nose with his knuckle, "What is all this?" He meant well, yet his brother got beaten again, and his mother is beside herself... utterly ridiculous.

"Speak up." Xia Xi nudged Xu Yanfeng's shoulder.

Before Xu Yanfeng could speak, Zhong Yinghong came over, her eyes red but tears wiped dry, she forced a flawless smile and apologized to Xia Xi: "Sorry, this is your first time at our house, and we've made such a mess—I hope it hasn't made you uncomfortable."

Xia Xi, unaware of the situation, shook her head and replied: "No, Auntie."

Zhong Yinghong looked at Xu Yanfeng; the wound on his forehead had been tended, and beside him on the black glass coffee table lay the opened medicine box, a faint medicinal scent lingering in the air. She put on a strong front, patted his shoulder, lowered her voice, and gave him a few instructions.

Xu Yanfeng paused, then took Xia Xi and left.

It was the hottest part of the day; the car's temperature took a long time to drop, the sunlight on the road was blindingly white, and traffic was heavy. Xu Yanfeng's heart tightened repeatedly; unable to wait until they got home to talk, he found a spot to pull over.

Xia Xi looked out the window, a little puzzled, wondering why they had stopped here.

A soft "click" came from beside her; Xia Xi turned her head—it was Xu Yanfeng releasing the seatbelt latch. He turned toward her, his pupils dark, staring intently, giving off a sense of urgency.

He spoke, his voice low and heavy: "Why didn't you tell me?"

Out of the blue, Xia Xi couldn't grasp what he was saying; it felt as if a lump of paste had been shoved into her brain: "... What are you talking about?"

Xu Yanfeng's chest brimmed with emotion, unsure where to vent; he drew a deep breath and spoke clearly: "When we broke up, it was because my father sought you out. That decisive manner was also his arrangement."

Xia Xi's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening—how did he know?

Xu Guanshan could never have told him.

Xia Xi felt flustered and guilty, not daring to meet his gaze; the next second, he seized her chin, forcing her up to look at him. She didn't know where to begin explaining; in her plan, she would never tell him about this, even to her death.

"Sorry." After holding it in for a while, Xia Xi could only manage three words.

She sensed Xu Yanfeng's expression seemed hurt; the guilt she hadn't felt in a long time washed over her again, and she leaned in, wrapping her arms around him: "Sorry, I..."

She wanted to speak but stumbled, her words incoherent: "I didn't mean to abandon you; back then, one thing after another piled up, leaving me breathless, time too pressing—I couldn't summon the courage to choose love; I could only... only choose family."

Outside the car it was noisy, inside it was quiet, and each other's breathing sounded amplified.

"What wrong have you done?" Xu Yanfeng said, heartbroken; she still felt she owed him an apology, "The fault is mine."