Chapter 44

11:00 PM (2)

Xu Muzi was crying intensely, her tears more overwhelming than the rain outside.

Since the troubles at home, she often sought comfort in dark humor—

She would reassure herself:

If it weren’t for these setbacks, maybe she’d still be trapped in the frustration of not becoming a brilliant pianist, holding onto a bit of disappointment and resentment. Going in circles, hitting dead ends—she wouldn’t have grown as much as she has now.

She also comforted her parents:

If everything had gone too smoothly, they wouldn’t have shaken off their bad habits. Inactivity, drinking, staying up late—they might have ended up with liver disease or high blood pressure.

At least now, they were healthy and safe.

Constantly brainwashing herself, she optimistically quoted Mencius for motivation: “When Heaven is about to entrust someone with a great responsibility, it first tries their will and toughens their bones…”

But now, Xu Muzi couldn’t bear to imagine how joyful her 20th birthday might have been without the failure of their investments, the bankruptcy, and debt.

Nor could she think about the kind of life they might have missed.

“Deng Yun, were you ever really disappointed?”

“Yes.”

All her own grievances, combined with those she felt for Deng Yun, twisted together, like thorny rose stems stirring in her chest, unbearably painful and with nowhere to let it out.

How could she let it go?

In the end, she could only lift her weak arms and hit him, burying her head against him, asking why he hadn’t said anything at the time.

Deng Yun didn’t stop her, letting her fists fall on him.

This time, he didn’t ruffle her hair, only held her tightly, kissing away her sobs and tears. “Given the circumstances, it wasn’t easy to say, was it?”

Before sleeping, they’d come back from the bathroom and were already dressed.

The room was stifling with lingering shower steam. The rain outside was light, just a drizzle, so they had cracked open a window for ventilation.

It was chilly in the mountains, especially on a rainy day, and worried she’d catch a cold, Deng Yun had taken a set of soft pajamas from the wardrobe.

The short-sleeved top was for her; he wore the long pants himself.

In the brief sleep, perhaps because of soreness and the occasional muscle spasm, Xu Muzi had moved restlessly, and the hem of her shirt had nearly rolled up to her ribs.

Now, nestled in Deng Yun’s arms, there was no space between them, their skin warmly pressed together.

Bodies have memory.

As he kissed her, she quickly softened, her newly calmed sensitivity beginning to stir again.

They kissed like this, back and forth, until finally, Xu Muzi’s tears stopped.

Deng Yun gently touched her and teased, “What’s on your mind that your heart’s racing like that?”

Xu Muzi denied it.

Her throat was dry, parched. Embarrassed, she pushed his hand away, saying she was thirsty and wanted water.

Deng Yun got up to get her some bottled water.

She watched his bare back, noticed the bandage on his arm, and when he bent down to open the fridge, she made a small request: “I want it cold.”

Deng Yun chuckled and called her “hard to please.”

Despite the comment, he still indulged her request.

The ice from the fridge had already been used for the roses. He threw on a short-sleeved shirt, went out, and returned three or four minutes later with a small bucket of ice from somewhere.

Xu Muzi held a glass of water with ice, sipping it slowly as she listened to Deng Yun tell her the story behind the inn.

The inn was intended as a gift for Xu Muzi.

Originally, Deng Yun hadn’t planned on running it as a business. He simply thought it was a beautiful spot, far from the city, with views of sunrises, sunsets, and starry skies. If Xu Muzi ever felt down, he could drive a few hours to bring her here for a peaceful retreat.

He knew she loved playing the piano, and even during difficult times, she never gave up practicing. After thinking it over, he decided this place for relaxation shouldn’t lack a piano for her, so he started researching piano brands and models.

At that time, Deng Yun was juggling his studies and other responsibilities, with little spare time to prepare her birthday gift.

The other rooms were left empty; he only had time to set up a music room and plant a rose garden, planning to finish the rest over time.

But then, his family’s investments hit a major setback, leading to significant debt.

With things so tough, just like in Xu Muzi’s family, they had to sell anything with any value. Even his grandmother’s property back home, his gym membership, and his Alienware desktop setup were sold second-hand.

This place survived only because it was an unfinished birthday gift, and no one had thought to turn it into an inn.

To others, it lacked business potential and wasn’t worth much.

Holding her glass of water, Xu Muzi disagreed: “But the decor here, and that music room, look really expensive…”

Deng Yun said that decor preferences are subjective. Some people like minimalism, others French romance. No matter how much was spent on the music room’s decor, it would be useless to most people.

If it’s useless, then it’s worthless.

A few potential buyers had looked at it, but the deals didn’t go through.

Privately, Deng Yun wanted to keep it, so he borrowed some money to turn it into an inn.

In the photo she had just seen, Xu Muzi had caught a glimpse of how the inn looked in its earliest days. Other than the field of London Eye flowers, the house lacked the refinement it has now.

Tears still glistened in her eyes as she stubbornly defended the place: “How could it be worthless? Those buyers must have had no taste!”

Deng Yun just laughed as he listened to her ramble on, listening to her attempt to speak for him. She wasn’t naturally persuasive, yet she passionately described how great the inn was, as if she were a salesperson who’d get a commission from each word, talking about all the charms of the place.

She even said the buyers lacked vision and that the money should go to him instead.

The more she spoke, the more indignant she grew, her face flushed with anger that even the cold water couldn’t calm.

Deng Yun feared she might actually work herself up too much.

He kissed her on the lips to ease her anger, explaining that the property values here weren’t high since it wasn’t a tourist spot, so it was normal for locals not to pay much.

“They just have poor judgment; they don’t understand good investments. I really like it here.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Why isn’t it?”

The cold water cup in her hand grew damp, with condensation forming droplets that fell onto the bed.

A small water stain formed on the dark-colored sheet.

The small distraction pulled her thoughts in another direction, so she didn’t hear Deng Yun’s quiet words that followed, “I designed it with you in mind.”

What she was thinking was—

The inn belonged to Deng Yun.

It wasn’t hard to guess that the books on the shelf downstairs really were from a large book card he won at some competition, bought all at once.

And that ticket stub from the classical music festival, crumpled and water-stained…

Xu Muzi looked up suddenly. “Deng Yun, did you come see me?”

Deng Yun let out a soft “ah,” with a sly, fox-like smile in his eyes. He said he had, and he saw her chasing around campus, laughing and eating pizza with a foreign violin player.

“…He’s just a classmate.”

“I know.”

“Did you ever think about calling out to me?”

“I did.”

Deng Yun repeated his familiar words, “But I couldn’t.”

It wasn’t that he felt bitter seeing her with another guy and was too stubborn to call out to her.

He did feel a pang of jealousy; her smile was stunning that day, after all.

But in the grand scheme of things, he wasn’t that childish.

The most important reason he couldn’t call out to her was:

At the time, he and his friends were starting a business, barely making ends meet. They were broke, holed up in a rented apartment, coding day and night.

The few of them who dared to start this software development venture believed in it.

But no one could predict when it would pay off or by how much.

The flight to the classical music festival was bought through extreme scrimping. To Deng Yun, there was no point in calling out to Xu Muzi then.

His family’s debts were even greater. He could survive on instant noodles and sleepless nights, but he couldn’t drag her down with him.

The business itself was funded on borrowed money; love couldn’t be, too.

Another person might naively complain, saying, “True love doesn’t care about money” or “Real love wouldn’t separate us.”

But Xu Muzi couldn’t bring herself to say such things.

They shared the same experiences.

She understood all too well how he felt at that time.

She, too, once had a thought she’d never shared with anyone—a private thought kept in the dark—

If she had received that dress he’d sent a little earlier, before her family’s debts were paid off, she might have been forced to sell it for money.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t care deeply for Deng Yun.

It was just the harsh reality of life, when bread and love couldn’t both be had.

This topic was a bit heavy.

Xu Muzi bit the rim of her glass, hesitant to even ask Deng Yun if the music room was still there.

Sensing something, he looked over at her, so she diverted with a lighter question, asking if the inn was in high demand these days.

“It’s alright.”

There had been a few offers for transfer and acquisition, and the prices were reasonable.

If Xu Muzi had gotten into a stable relationship and married someone else over the past few years, Deng Yun, heartbroken, might have seriously considered selling the inn.

But he didn’t mention this.

Knowing her well enough, he glanced at her and said, “Xu Muzi, is that really what you want to ask?”

Actually, when looking at the photos, Xu Muzi had already noticed the piano in the music room was a luxury brand.

Given the high price of the piano, she guessed that during their hardest times, it had probably been sold.

Just like the field of London Eye flowers that used to bloom there, which were no longer cultivated. Only a few hardy roots occasionally sprouted new branches and flowers.

Knowing they’d once been there was touching enough.

Bringing it up would only hurt Deng Yun, like reopening a wound.

It might hurt him.

So no matter how he looked at her, Xu Muzi resolved to keep her questions to herself, unwilling to speak the truth.

There was still a sense of regret.

With that regret, she put a piece of ice in her mouth.

Xu Muzi rarely had cold drinks, and as soon as the ice touched her tongue, she regretted it, humming softly with a slight frown.

She didn’t want to chew it but also didn’t want to spit it out in front of Deng Yun.

The ice slowly melted, releasing a steady chill…

Deng Yun lifted Xu Muzi’s chin, slipped his finger into her mouth, and fished out the piece of ice.

The ice dropped onto her calf, sending a shiver down her spine, before rolling onto the bed.

His finger lingered, and she gave it a gentle bite.

Feeling his intense gaze on her, her heartbeat quickened. His fingertip teased her lips, pressing twice before he finally pulled away.

A cool night breeze, carrying the scent of damp earth, drifted through the open window, yet her mind felt far from clear.

Deng Yun took the glass from her hand, pulled her close by the neck, and kissed her.

He’d always been that way—mischievous.

Whether she was in her rebellious phase or not, no one could stir her up like he could.

A deep kiss.

Just as Xu Muzi was nearly lost in it, Deng Yun pulled back, wiping the moisture from her lips with the back of his finger, and asked with a smile, “Would you like to go see your music room?”