Chapter 6: The Little White Rabbit Turns Into a Little Black Rabbit

Meng Shuyue was so terrified by Zhou Dajun's fierce glare that she could not move. The excruciating pain of her skin tearing and bones shattering—the agony she felt when he beat her to death in her past life—surged back, gripping her throat like a terrifying nightmare and making the world spin until she nearly fainted.

A stylishly dressed female reporter, who had been watching the spectacle, hurried over with a tape recorder. Seeing Meng Shuyue’s distraught appearance, she spoke in a delicate yet sharp tone, lecturing her, "Comrade, I advise you: we women should be independent and strong. You shouldn't be crying and clinging to a man like this; you should go out and carve your own path!"

Meng Shuyue wiped away her tears, nodded awkwardly, and then, pretending to be careless, knocked over the thermos on the table. It hit the ground with a sharp crack, spilling boiling water everywhere. She let out a long sigh of relief as she watched the water—laced with psychedelic sage and aphrodisiacs—drain away. In truth, her weeping was merely a performance; she had long since ceased to harbor any expectations for Song Shijing. Her only wish was to see Su Yanyan and Song Shijing locked together in their disgrace, never to cross her path again.

After offering thanks and a few bows to the imposing officer and the reporter, Meng Shuyue turned and hurried away. With Song Shijing and Su Yanyan now branded as a pair of disgraced, star-crossed lovers, and Zhou Dajun under arrest, she could finally leave in peace. Time was of the essence; she planned to depart at the crack of dawn. Before she left, she had to settle her wages at the timber yard and tie up all the loose ends.

Shen Jinxiao looked back at the girl limping away, his complex gaze resting on her red, swollen ankle. With a cold expression, he turned to the reporter and said in a deep, sharp voice, "Why are you lecturing her? If you like independence so much, go establish your own household instead of begging your father to arrange your job at the newspaper!"

His words were incisive and merciless. The smile on Lin Shuang’s face vanished instantly; she pouted, feeling deeply wronged, and turned to leave with her camera crew. The surrounding villagers gradually dispersed, and the room was no longer crowded.

Shen Jinxiao gave a subtle signal to the two guards beside him, who immediately understood and moved to clear the crowd outside. Meanwhile, Song Shijing, who had been sitting stiffly on the bed, finally snapped out of his daze and crouched on the floor, frantically helping Su Yanyan tend to her injuries.

"Bang!"

A teacup shattered on the floor, ceramic shards exploding near Song Shijing and startling him into pulling his hand away from Su Yanyan’s waist.

"Un-Uncle, I... I didn't mean to!" Song Shijing knelt before Shen Jinxiao, cold sweat streaming down his forehead.

"You didn't mean to? One of you is married, and the other has a fiancé. Regardless of the reason, engaging in such behavior is a disgrace to the Song family, do you understand?" Shen Jinxiao continued, his voice cold and commanding. "I will not prevent the newspapers from reporting this. You will face whatever punishment is due!"

Even though Shen Jinxiao did not lower his mask, the two on the ground could clearly see the fury in his eyes. Su Yanyan, who had been lying prone and unable to move, had managed to set her bone and now knelt on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She was filled with bitter regret. She didn't know how things had spiraled so far out of control. She had intended to trick Zhou Dajun into taking Meng Shuyue, then ensure Song Shijing witnessed it so he would despise his fiancée. Her plan was to kill two birds with one stone by reporting Zhou Dajun for assault, which would have allowed her and Song Shijing to be together. She never imagined she would be the one outmaneuvered by this village girl.

Su Yanyan tried to grab the hem of Shen Jinxiao’s trousers, but remembering his distaste for being touched, she pulled her hand back in a panic and continued to weep, "Song Shijing and I were definitely set up by that dark-skinned woman! We both felt a sudden, inexplicable dizziness, and in our confusion, we felt so hot that we ended up in each other's arms. She must have drugged us!" She looked at Song Shijing and begged, "Tell him, Brother Shijing, she drugged us, right?"

Song Shijing knelt in silence, his mind fixated on Zhou Dajun's earlier claim that Su Yanyan had offered Meng Shuyue to him. Shen Jinxiao’s icy gaze swept over them, finally landing on the thermos that had spilled its contents on the floor, his expression unreadable.

A short while later, when Shen Jinxiao emerged from the house, he held a small vial of water, which he tucked into his cloth bag. A guard waiting outside stepped forward, hesitant. "Chief, are you really going to let the newspapers report this and inform the hospital?"

"What else? Do you expect me to show favoritism?"

"But you brought the reporter here at the request of Minister Song to commend him. If you do this, Young Master Song won't be able to return to his position!" The guard was baffled. Song Shijing wasn't in the military, and this affair between a man and a woman didn't involve matters of principle. Once it hit the papers, how could his nephew show his face again?

"You feel pity for him, but who feels pity for the innocent woman he harmed?"

That single sentence silenced every argument the guard had left. Inside, Song Shijing and Su Yanyan turned deathly pale, their strength seemingly drained as they collapsed onto the floor.

***

By the time Meng Shuyue returned to the timber yard, it was nearly noon. As usual, she scrubbed the rust off the large iron pot with a bamboo brush, scooped out the water with a gourd ladle, and crouched before the stove to light the fire.

As she worked the bellows, tongues of flame licked the bottom of the pot, sending up thick plumes of smoke that made it hard to keep one's eyes open. Through the gaps in the makeshift grass roof, dappled sunlight fell onto the girl's dark face. Beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks; she wiped them away with her arm and began to prepare the ingredients.

The sound of oil hitting the hot pan sizzled, followed by the clatter of a spatula tossing cabbage. Soon, the aroma wafted from under the shed and began to spread across the timber yard.

Led by the village chief, Shen Jinxiao arrived at the yard just in time to see this scene. Amidst the rising smoke, the girl’s floral shirt was slightly open at the collar, and a long, thick braid hung over her shoulder, swaying with every motion of her spatula.

The village chief, watching the important man stare intently at the girl, explained with a smile, "Commander Shen, don't let this broken-down yard fool you. This girl’s cooking is better than my own wife's. Look at the men here—they’ve all gained a few pounds over the past year."

"Why do you have a young girl cooking for so many people? Can she handle it?" Shen Jinxiao asked. "And why haven't you built a proper mud-brick house? Look at how the sun has tanned her!"

The village chief froze, looking at the cold-faced commander who hadn't said a word the entire journey, wondering why he was suddenly so talkative about this girl. "You're right, sir. Tomorrow, I'll have a few of the men build a mud-brick house. You wouldn't know it, but when this girl first came here, she was fair and delicate. She’s been out in the wind and sun ever since, and her fiancé even started to despise her for it..."

Listening to the chief, Shen Jinxiao recalled the first time he saw the girl. She was only ten years old then, her face just as dark as it was now, clutching a white rabbit as she followed her parents. When she entered the Song family courtyard, she had looked around with a silly, adorable curiosity, like a country bumpkin entering a grand garden.

Ten years later, when he saw her again from the second floor and recognized her, he had been so shocked he couldn't regain his composure for a long time. At twenty, she was graceful and slender, her skin glowing with a healthy flush. When her braid swayed behind her, it reminded him of the little rabbit she had once held in her hands. He never expected that after only a few years, she would have grown dark from the sun once again.