Chapter 63: Etched in Memory

Jiang Shuzhi’s sudden shift in attitude left Lin Wanbai somewhat unsettled. It was rare to hear her admit fault—almost impossible. Lin Wanbai did not believe for a moment that this change was without purpose.

As they spoke, Fu Changjun was wheeled in by someone. He sat tidily in his wheelchair, looking much thinner, the hollows beneath his eyes deep and pronounced. Despite his effort to appear presentable, exhaustion clung to him. Seeing Fu Juxing and Lin Wanbai brought him joy; perhaps his rapid weight loss had deepened the wrinkles on his face, so when he smiled, it was as though every line gathered in celebration.

Jiang Shuzhi went to his side with a smile. “As soon as I received Xiaobai’s call, I ordered the servants to tidy him up. He’s missed you both terribly—wouldn’t even eat properly without seeing you.”

She turned to Fu Changjun, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Now it’s all well—the children are home. A Xing, you see, he’s doing fine. Surely you can eat in peace now?”

Fu Changjun’s gaze never left Fu Juxing, ignoring her words and responding only perfunctorily before calling Fu Juxing over. Grandfather and grandson had not seen each other for quite some time.

Watching Fu Juxing hobbling over with his cane, Fu Changjun’s heart ached. He suppressed his anger, and as Fu Juxing drew near, clasped his hand. “It’s enough that you’re alright, truly. Your leg—will it heal?”

Lin Wanbai glanced at Jiang Shuzhi and said deliberately, “Not necessarily. The doctor said the injury was severe; there might be lasting effects. Rehabilitation will be needed, and whether he’ll walk as before, there’s no certainty.”

Jiang Shuzhi’s expression was complex, her sorrow no less than Fu Changjun’s.

“It’s all Yanming’s fault—all his fault,” she declared, turning her ire toward Fu Yongyi. “How did you raise your son? He caused such disaster—not only did A Xing end up like this, but our Fu family has lost half its dignity! Such a scoundrel—you’re still hoping to help him escape blame? Let the court judge him harshly.”

Fu Yongyi’s face was grim, but he agreed. “Yes, yes, it’s that rascal’s fault—unforgivably so.”

Tang Qiong chimed in, appearing genuinely apologetic as she addressed Fu Juxing. “A Xing, I’m truly sorry you suffered this calamity. He heard somewhere that the reporters were brought in by you—that you deliberately exposed his affair with Zhao Yiling, sabotaging his plans. No one expected the Zhao family to be so adamant, refusing to marry off their daughter no matter what. They wouldn’t negotiate, insisting on going to court.”

“The blame lies with Yanming. He was too impatient, too eager for success. With Yanchuan’s brilliance ahead of him, he’s a proud man—wanting to surpass or at least keep pace. But he used the wrong methods. Is it fair to lay all the blame on him? Not entirely—half rests with us as parents, for not guiding him properly or disciplining him in time. That’s what led to such a catastrophe, harming others and himself.”

Fu Yongyi said, “Yes, we parents are at fault. But looking back, there was definitely someone manipulating things behind the scenes. Yanming and I planned together, knowing the Zhao matriarch’s resolve. We never intended for things to escalate, nor did we notify the reporters.”

Jiang Shuzhi frowned in surprise. “Then who brought the reporters that day? Did you investigate?”

“Of course we did. How could we not?”

“So, what did you find?”

Mother and son played their duet well. Lin Wanbai could almost predict the outcome.

As expected, Fu Yongyi glanced over, paused, then shook his head. “It’s ultimately Yanming’s fault. Things have reached this point—there’s no need to pursue it further.”

Tang Qiong agreed, “Let’s leave it at that. It’s time to eat, everyone must be hungry.”

“I don’t think eating is the most important thing,” Fu Yongyi said, “We ought to clarify this matter, so no one carries a thorn in their heart.” His look made Lin Wanbai unwilling to let it drop.

Fu Juxing tugged at her, but she smiled at him, signaling reassurance.

Though she appeared calm, Lin Wanbai had thoroughly investigated everything behind the scenes. She needed to know all details of the Fu family’s affairs—otherwise, Fu Juxing could easily be used as their scapegoat.

All kinds of charges could be pinned on him.

“Second Uncle, you said you looked into it,” Lin Wanbai said, glancing at Fu Juxing. “I’m curious—what did your investigation reveal? Who leaked the story, inviting reporters to catch them in the act?”

Fu Yongyi smiled. “I’ve said it—let’s not mention it again. Whoever it was, I won’t pursue it. Fundamentally, it was Yanming’s fault, and mine—I shouldn’t have devised such a scheme.”

“You may say you’re at fault, but surely you blame the person who ruined your plan. Even I find it regrettable—how much more so for you. Incidentally, I investigated as well, thoroughly. I have all the evidence. The culprit is none other than the woman Yanming kept outside. She’s pregnant with his child, hoping to marry into the Fu family. But Yanming abandoned her, forcibly terminating a five- or six-month pregnancy. Worse, the operation was rushed and went awry—her uterus was removed entirely, and she’ll never bear children again.”

Her words caused no visible reaction in Fu Yongyi, whose gaze remained cold and unbelieving.

Lin Wanbai pressed, “After this incident, is Yanming’s assistant still around?”

Fu Yongyi was startled.

Lin Wanbai added, “If you want evidence, I have recordings from the girl and other proof on my phone. I can send them to you.”

No one replied for a moment.

Then Fu Yanchuan spoke, “Send them to me.”

Lin Wanbai emailed the package, then returned to Fu Juxing’s side, linking her arm with his. “Since everyone’s here, I’ll say this: I and Fu Juxing are preparing to emigrate and live abroad. We’re abandoning everything here, including his company. We’ll start anew overseas and will no longer concern ourselves with domestic affairs. From today forward, anything that happens in the Fu family has nothing to do with us.”

“Whatever happens to any of you, it’s not our concern. Don’t shift blame onto Fu Juxing. As with this incident—I don’t know who told Yanming such irresponsible nonsense, causing him to hate the wrong person. Fortunately, Fu Juxing is unharmed—his legs intact, mind sound. Otherwise, the consequences would be unbearable for you all.”

Fu Juxing squeezed her hand, shaking his head, not wanting her to say more.

But Lin Wanbai felt, since they were leaving, some things needed to be stated clearly.

Fu Yanchuan received the recording and played it.

The volume was turned up; everyone listened in silence.

In the end, it was clear—the disaster was Yanming’s own doing.

Someone like him, still dreaming of competing with Fu Yanchuan—how laughable.

Fu Yanchuan showed the other evidence to Jiang Shuzhi; she glanced at it briefly, unmoved, only telling him to turn the recording off. “You see, you’re not as efficient as Xiaobai—what have you managed to find?”

Fu Yongyi had nothing to say.

They never really investigated; things had gone so far, who had the heart to dig deeper? Besides, Jiang Shuzhi insisted it was Fu Juxing’s machinations—once she said so, what was left to investigate? Even if evidence cleared Fu Juxing, the old lady wouldn’t admit it.

At this moment, Fu Yongyi’s dissatisfaction peaked. He viewed everyone in the family as malicious, none trustworthy.

He forced a smile, nodded, and said, “Yes, I handled things poorly, failed to discipline my son, and caused all this myself. No one else to blame.”

Fu Changjun interjected, “Enough, the children are here to eat—not to rehash old grievances. Can’t we just enjoy a meal together?”

Jiang Shuzhi agreed, “Exactly, why bring this up now? With the new year approaching, let’s leave these matters behind. Family harmony is most important. Come, let’s all sit down to eat.”

Everyone took their seats.

This time, Fu Juxing sat beside Fu Yanchuan, as per the seating arrangement.

He still needed to be cautious about his diet, and Lin Wanbai managed his meals. There wasn’t much he could eat; she picked through the dishes and filled his bowl. “You can only have this—don’t even think about the rest.”

“A little more won’t hurt.”

“Hold on a bit longer. On New Year’s Eve, I’ll let you have some.”

He smiled, “I’ve already had meat—what else can’t I eat?”

At first, the words seemed innocent, but upon closer listening, they carried deeper meaning.

Fu Yanchuan, sitting nearby, caught every nuance. He glanced over, just in time to see Lin Wanbai blushing, her eyes shining with charm.

He was stunned for a few seconds, then quickly recovered, withdrawing his gaze. The hand holding his chopsticks remained motionless, lost in thought.

Midway through the meal, Jiang Shuzhi looked over at Fu Juxing and Xiaobai. “Don’t go back today. I’ll call Old Lin later—your grandfather’s in rare spirits, so stay here for a few days and keep him company. It’s almost New Year’s anyway.”

Lin Wanbai replied, “Ah, right—I nearly forgot. This year, Fu Juxing and I will follow my grandfather back home for ancestral rites, and spend the New Year there.”

“Oh, then before you go, stay at home and spend time with your grandfather. He’ll be upset not having you here for New Year’s.”

Fu Changjun smiled, “It’s alright. Ancestral rites are important. When you return, just come for a meal.”

“We will.”

After dinner, Fu Yanchuan found an excuse to retire to his room.

Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing sat in the hall for a while, then returned to their room with Fu Changjun. Jiang Shuzhi said nothing further, only instructing them to keep Fu Changjun cheerful—a bad mood is bad for his health.

Once the servants left, Fu Changjun could no longer restrain himself—he stood and hugged Fu Juxing.

Elderly people rarely weep, but Lin Wanbai saw the old man’s tears streaming.

She felt a pang of sorrow and stepped aside, giving them space.

They embraced in silence. At length, Fu Juxing spoke, “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Fu Changjun steadied himself, quickly wiped his tears, looked up at him with a grateful smile, and said, “I know, I know you’ll be alright.” He placed his hand firmly on Juxing’s shoulder.

After a moment, he turned to Lin Wanbai. “Why are you standing so far away? Did I frighten you?”

She shook her head and sniffled. “No.”

She walked over with a smile.

Fu Changjun took her hand, then Juxing’s, stacking their hands together and gripping tightly. “Thanks to you, Xiaobai. With you by A Xing’s side, I can rest easy.”

Lin Wanbai glanced at Juxing and smiled.

The three chatted idly; Lin Wanbai told Fu Changjun about their plans to go abroad—where, which city, even showing photos and videos.

Fu Changjun praised everything.

During their conversation, Lin Wanbai noticed that Fu Changjun’s mind seemed to be slipping. He would forget things minutes after they were said, asking again and again.

They stayed until after ten o’clock, leaving only when Fu Changjun grew tired.

He was in much better spirits as they left.

Back in their room, after a brief wash, they went to bed.

Lin Wanbai lay on her side, watching him. “Do you think Grandpa’s becoming confused?”

“He’s getting old—it happens.”

“He keeps repeating old stories. The things I tell him, he forgets within minutes. Do you think he might be developing dementia?”

“Don’t borrow trouble.” He pulled the blanket up for her.

Lin Wanbai paused, then quickly snuggled up, hugging him tightly, swift and careful.

“The blanket’s not as warm as you.”

“Am I warm?” He didn’t move, hand resting on her, chin against her head, the scent of her shampoo soothing and magical.

“Very warm.” After a while, Lin Wanbai seemed to remember something, looking up at him. “Do you think us leaving like this is irresponsible? Especially toward Grandpa—he’s so old, and once we’re gone, it’ll be even harder for him in this family.”

“But if we don’t leave, the old lady will keep making trouble for you, just as unpleasant. Never mind. It’s decided—let’s stick to it.”

She wanted to mention Yanchuan, but the name caught in her throat.

She swallowed it, saying only half.

Fu Juxing said, “Big brother is still here—Grandpa won’t be lonely.”

She gazed at him, then kissed him on the lips, smiling wordlessly.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just that you’re wonderful, always have been. They shouldn’t have misunderstood you. They’re rotten, get what they deserve, and still push the blame on you—it’s appalling.”

“By the way, when did you have someone investigate? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“As soon as it happened, I had Yang Ruyue look into it. I know the old witch’s temperament—she’d definitely suspect you, so I prepared in advance. If she tried to pin it on you, I could throw the evidence in her face. I didn’t expect things to go this far—didn’t think it was just a coincidence. Yanming’s long-time assistant vanished; I searched everywhere for him but couldn’t find a trace.”

“I think Yanming’s downfall owes half to that assistant. Besides Yanming himself, his assistant knows everything. Maybe the assistant betrayed him, or was coerced into spilling so much.”

She looked at him seriously. “What do you think?”

Fu Juxing shook his head. “Not sure. He’s been reckless for years, bullying others—making enemies isn’t surprising. You didn’t need to do all this; the innocent need no defense—if I didn’t do it, they’ll find nothing. But if they refuse to believe, even with conclusive evidence, they’ll contrive excuses to insist I’m behind it.”

“I understand your intentions—you don’t want me to be wronged or give them an excuse to hurt me. But I don’t need you to do this; I just don’t care. Their behavior is proof of their guilt—they know deep down that what they did to me was wrong; otherwise, why fear me so much? What do I have? Only you. Aside from you, what power do I possess to do such things?”

“The more they act like this, the happier I am.”

Lin Wanbai snorted, “Happy? You nearly ended up crippled. Have you forgotten what it felt like to be abandoned in a garbage dump?”

He laughed, utterly at ease. “Enough, let’s sleep.”

Those experiences would never be forgotten.

Every moment in the Fu family, he remembered well.

Later, they stayed three days in Sibei, keeping the old man company with opera, chess, outings, and making him new clothes.

Fortunately, Fu Miao didn’t appear to stir up trouble, and Lin Wanbai enjoyed three peaceful days before returning to Pujiang.

The house was packed; they would leave for their hometown the next day.

Lin Zhaowei’s hometown was in Longning Prefecture. A few years back, he had whimsically donated funds and materials, renovating the entire town; last year it was finished. The mayor sent videos and photos, even a pennant of thanks.

The project boosted the local economy, built new schools, and brought warmth to elderly residents.

Everyone in town spoke highly of Lin Zhaowei—only praise, no complaints.

He hadn’t told anyone of his return—it was just a visit home, no need to announce.

But upon arrival at the town entrance, he found banners and a band, dancers welcoming him—a grand spectacle.

Lin Zhaowei was not amused. “Who leaked the news?”

The car slowed and stopped.

The mayor came personally to open Lin Zhaowei’s door. Lin Zhaowei exited, wearing a courteous smile, exchanged a few words, and asked the crowd to disperse.

Lin Wanbai commented, “A businessman ought to be like Grandpa—this is meaningful.”

Fu Juxing nodded, “Yes.”

The car drove into the village.

Lin Zhaowei’s ancestral home had been rebuilt on its original site, preserving its old appearance.

The house clearly belonged to a family of stature.

The Lin family had once been a great clan. With time and repeated division, everyone went their own way; most distant relatives had lost touch. Lin Zhaowei had an elder brother, who died young, leaving no descendants.

Here, it was peaceful.

They entered the mansion, where the steward cared for them, leading them to prepared rooms.

The old-style courtyard had east and west wings.

Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing stayed in the west wing. The decor was especially elegant. Lin Wanbai, tired from travel, helped him sit before collapsing onto the bed herself, taking a deep breath. “The air here is truly good. I remember coming once as a child and never again. I didn’t like it—old houses have seen so much, they feel eerie and uncomfortable.”

“You’re afraid?”

She replied with a sleepy murmur, then fell silent.

She drifted into sleep. Fu Juxing looked at her, then gently covered her with the blanket.

He pressed his cool fingers to her cheek, not moving them away. His hand was cold.

Lin Wanbai frowned slightly but didn’t pull away. Instead, she grabbed his hand, pressing her face into his palm, murmuring, “Your hand’s so cold—let me warm it.”

Fu Juxing was about to sit when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He paused, checked—a message.

[?]

He looked at Lin Wanbai, who was sleeping soundly.

He replied, [Just say it.]

After a long while, another message arrived: [Awakened from a long dream.]

Fu Juxing raised his brows at the words.

He deleted both messages a moment later.

He sat beside Lin Wanbai, gazing at the golden sunlight pouring through the window.

It was his first visit. Entering, he felt as if he’d stepped into a grand garden—the bricks, the grass, the trees, even in some disrepair, all spoke of the family’s noble status.

She was born to privilege—true privilege.

They were different, fundamentally so.

Rumors had always held that the Lin family was an illustrious house; evidently, not without reason.

In Lin Zhaowei’s era, few could study abroad; he was one, clearly not of humble origins.

The light in Fu Juxing’s eyes gradually faded; his face lost all warmth, growing cold and somber.

His hands remained cold, impossible to warm.

Lin Wanbai slept soundly; when she woke, night had fallen. Fu Juxing sat beside her.

She opened her eyes to his dark gaze, expressionless, just watching her. She blinked, and he smiled, gentle—so much so that the cold, distant Fu Juxing seemed a figment of her imagination.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. “What time is it?”

“Four-thirty.”

Dusk was settling; the room was dim, only one window open, the sun already gone.

Lin Wanbai kept hold of his hand. “Have you been sitting here all along?”

He nodded. “You tend to kick the blanket—I had to cover you. It’s cold here; if you don’t cover up, you’ll catch cold.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Not too much.”

“Your hand’s so cold. Oh, there’s no heating here.”

“I’m not cold.” He smiled, withdrawing his hand. “The servant came earlier—let’s go to the hall.”

“Alright, I’ll wash my face.”

She went to freshen up; then they headed to the main hall.

The hall was lively; the mayor and others were present, Lin Zhaowei welcoming them.

Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing entered, and Lin Zhaowei introduced, “This is my granddaughter and her husband.”

“This is the mayor; you should call him Uncle Qin.”

“Hello, Uncle Qin,” Lin Wanbai greeted.

Mayor Qin stood, beaming. “Good, good.”

After greetings, Lin Wanbai and Fu Juxing sat aside.

Most conversation was formal—mainly the mayor discussing town affairs.

After a while, the mayor and his family departed.

Then dinner was served.

Everyone was tired from the journey; after dinner, they soon retired.

The next day was New Year’s Eve. Servants began preparations early, hanging red lanterns at the gate. Festivities in the countryside were vibrant.

Lin Wanbai's only impression of the place was its eerie atmosphere—the long-abandoned mansion felt haunted.

She had come once as a child and never dared return.

Now, grown, her feelings were different.

She woke early, having slept early the night before.

Besides, the house had no central heating, only a stove, which lost warmth overnight. She woke from the cold.

Even nestled in Fu Juxing’s arms, she felt no warmth.

So she decided to get up; Fu Juxing was still asleep. She added layers, donned a down coat, and went out.

She was early, but the main hall was already bustling. Servants in festive attire moved about, filling the courtyard with life.

She walked through the front yard, then to the back.

It was quieter there. She spotted Lin Zhaowei from afar, and as she drew closer, saw Lin Jingyu.

She thought for a moment, then circled from the other side to surprise them.

Just as she approached, she heard Lin Jingyu say, “Dad, why didn’t you tell me you were sick sooner? If your doctor hadn’t called me, when were you planning to say something? When you’re on your deathbed? No wonder you suddenly wanted to come back for ancestral rites.”