“Won’t the winning price be too high?” Mei Ran hadn't quite recovered from her shock.
Although antiques are priceless and might have significant appreciation value in the future, for a plum blossom vase that could barely be called a 'rare treasure' to fetch such a price at auction was truly...
The man beside her smiled and ruffled her hair.
Surrounding them, applause broke out. Mei Ran couldn't clearly hear what he said and couldn't help leaning closer. He accommodated her, leaning in as well, their breaths intertwining.
“It’s worth its price.”
This plum blossom vase was made of jade, its material sparkling and translucent, its shape curved like a crescent moon, its touch smooth and fine. The vase itself was formed as a twisting branch, covered by two branches of plum blossoms winding upward—one in full bloom, one in bud—a rare and clever work utilizing the natural color variations in tea jade.
More importantly, to him, it now held a unique significance.
He had never imagined his connection with 'plum' could be so profound.
Back in his childhood, in his maternal grandfather’s courtyard, a tree of winter plum had been planted. When heavy snow piled weightily on its branches, the red plum blossoms would bloom defiantly in the wind—not a cluster at once, but one after another, blooming alone with pure, noble grace.
He would sit by the window, smelling the fragrant breeze, murmuring silently: “Scant shadows slant across the shallow, clear water, faint scents drift by in the dusk under the moon.”
Years later, he was also destined to be entangled for a lifetime with a woman whose surname was 'Mei.'
Thinking of this, Fu Shijin tightened his grip on the soft little hand in his palm. Mei Ran turned her head to look at him, a sweet smile spreading from the corners of her lips.
Unconsciously, the auction quickly neared its end. The host announced a final push, setting off another bidding frenzy. Mei Mengran stared until her eyes felt sore and swollen. Her upper and lower teeth clenched against each other, unwilling to yield. The resentment and jealousy in her heart fermented like the most potent liquor in the world, a sourness gurgling up from every cell in her body.
Mei. Ran.
She wished she could break these two characters apart stroke by stroke, pour the most vicious curses into their very marrow and blood, then piece them back together.
Mei Mengran couldn't even recall when or why this sentiment had started, or when it had grown so intense. She could only say this woman was too fortunate and too outstanding, which made her own wretchedness and lowliness stand out all the more.
Sometimes, being too exceptional was a silent offense to others.
Did anyone know the feeling of always being overshadowed, as if you could never turn things around?
She relived it every night, like an endless nightmare.
If she had never entertained such extravagant hopes, would the pain be less?
The Old Madame had always encouraged and supported her unconditionally, so she had struggled so hard to climb higher—all for the day she could trample those who displeased her underfoot!
How laughable. Now, she was like a beggar in tattered clothes, hiding in the most unnoticed corner, witnessing their sweet romance blooming like flowers stretching for miles.
How could Heaven be so unfair? Someone like Mei Ran—she already had so much. Why give her such an excellent man too?
Resentment, truly… how utterly unresigned she felt!
A plump man's hand suddenly snaked around her waist again. Mei Mengran snapped out of it, the ferocity in her eyes not yet retracted. The Boss Zhao beside her was startled.
“Baby,” he chuckled, revealing yellowed teeth, “What's on your mind?”
Mei Mengran felt so disgusted she almost retched. Restrained by her public identity, she couldn’t lash out directly. She frowned tightly and pushed away the hand he'd laid on her shoulder.
Boss Zhao had finally managed to steal a bit of intimacy. At first, he thought she was just playing hard-to-get—after all, she was a celebrity, understandable. But after repeated, clearly reluctant pushes, he grew displeased. His face instantly turned cold. “Little bitch, don't push your luck.”
“Do you know who I am?” Mei Mengran sneered.
Boss Zhao snorted softly in dissatisfaction. “Do you think you'd have the qualifications to sit here, if you weren't Mei Mengran?”
An invitation letter in exchange for a night of tenderness—though not yet fulfilled, such a deal only a fool would refuse.
In their circles, playing with this kind of woman was common, but he was experiencing it for the first time himself. She was one who refused both soft words and hard coercion, completely impervious.
“The Mei family from S City, ever heard of it?” Mei Mengran deliberately misled him, “The one currently running the family is Old Madame Mei, she… is my grandmother.”
People could be so contradictory sometimes. You treat something as an eyesore, yet at certain times, you're forced to pull it out like a luxurious robe to prop up your status, showcasing noble identity.
Only Mei Mengran understood too well—behind this magnificence lay falseness and desolation.
What was truly noble wasn't the Mei family, but the three characters 'Mei Hongyuan'. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with her.
Boss Zhao was a nouveau riche who'd lucked into his fortune. Still reeling from the windfall, dragging along his sallow-faced original wife, he'd squeezed into upper-class society. But his foundation was inherently hollow, often flustered by social engagements and hobnobbing.
However, he had heard of the Mei family, especially the thunderous resonance of the three characters 'Mei Hongyuan'. Thus, Boss Zhao was somewhat intimidated, cold sweat breaking out on his back.
Soon, the auction concluded. The audience quietly dispersed one after another. Just as Fu Shijin and Mei Ran stood up, a delicate, sweet female voice called out from behind, “Sister Ranran.”
Turning around, they saw Mei Mengran walking over with a smile. “It really is you! What a coincidence. I thought I'd recognized someone wrongly earlier.” She nodded slightly toward Fu Shijin, “Mr. Fu, we meet again.”
“Mr. Fu! An honor, a great honor!” A short, stout man suddenly popped out from behind Mei Mengran, enthusiastically stepping forward to shake his hand. Fu Shijin subtly avoided the gesture—he had never liked close contact with strangers.
Boss Zhao was slightly embarrassed, letting out a dry chuckle. Mei Mengran shot him a fierce glare, her eyes accusatory: Didn't I tell you to leave first? Why are you back?
How could he miss such an opportunity?
Boss Zhao stepped forward, standing side-by-side with Mei Mengran, “Ranran, so you know Mr. Fu? Why didn’t you mention it before? I should have come over to say hello earlier.”
Fu Shijin gave them a cold glance, his expression still aloof and proud, though a flicker of displeasure seemed to flash in the depths of his eyes.
Hearing that form of her name—"ranran"—from another man's mouth inexplicably made him uncomfortable.
Boss Zhao, unaware what he'd said wrong, shifted his gaze to Mei Ran. Almost instantly, his eyes lit up.
He suddenly felt the woman standing beside him paled in comparison. *This* was a true beauty! Look at that radiant, jade-like skin, that exquisite figure… Eh?
Boss Zhao suddenly felt a wave of severe, chilling hostility wash over him. His wandering gaze dared not be presumptuous again, hanging his hands awkwardly as he stood there.
“Sister Ranran,” Mei Mengran spoke up affectionately again, “My behavior last time was wrong. Surely you won’t ignore me because of that?”
Mei Ran couldn't master her fake-smiling technique. Just as she was about to respond, another voice cut in, “Shijin.”
The speaker was a man in his fifties, dressed in a grey suit, with an exceptionally gentle demeanor that gave a refreshing, pleasant feeling.
“And this is?” He looked at Mei Ran, surprise showing in his eyes.
Fu Shijin smiled, taking her hand, “My fiancée, Mei Ran.”
“This is Uncle Zhang.”
Mei Ran's mind was still tangled around the three words “my fiancée.” She stared blankly for a moment before softly echoing the greeting.
Uncle Zhang laughed heartily, “You rascal! When can I drink your wedding wine?”
“Mei Ran?” He mulled it over for a moment, then immediately slapped his forehead regretfully, “Ah! Your father had mentioned it before, said it was your first time at an auction and told me to look out for you more. It just slipped my mind once I got busy. My apologies!”
Only then did Mei Ran realize this approachable man before her was Liu Zhang, the organizer of this auction—the person in charge of the Fu’en Auction Company. She quickly said, “It’s quite alright.”
“Though, luckily I forgot,” Uncle Zhang's gaze shifted between them a few times, “Otherwise, running over to be such a glaring third wheel would’ve been rather tone-deaf.”
He lacked the airs most rich people habitually adopted; he felt more like a kindly elder, humorous in his speech. Mei Ran couldn't help but smile along.
As Mei Mengran stood to the side, treated as mere background, hearing the word “fiancée” had already made her dig her nails into her palm. The more turmoil in her heart, the more graceful the smile she had to maintain on her face.
The Boss Zhao standing next to her also wore an awful expression. So *this* was the true Miss Mei; the one he'd brought was a counterfeit. He really was dim-witted. How hadn't he considered it earlier? Why would an upstanding member of the Mei family need to rely on him…
The moment they exited, he forcefully shoved Mei Mengran, spitting in contempt, “Shameless bitch, making a fool out of me!”
Caught off guard, Mei Mengran fell to the ground, scraping skin from her palms in several spots. She was about to scream curses, but seeing passersby casting peculiar glances—although photography was forbidden here, she truly couldn't afford to lose face in such a public setting.
Boss Zhao stormed off, cursing all the way. She got up and walked away like a proud peacock.
***
“What are you thinking about?”
Mei Ran nibbled the silver tine of her fork, her gaze tender and soft, “Back then, why did you say… I was your… fiancée?”
He placed the cut beef in front of her, arching an eyebrow slightly as he asked, “After doing… those things to me, do you think you can still escape?”
With such a massive 'cap' thrust upon her, Mei Ran’s eyelashes fluttered in surprise, a flush evenly spreading across both cheeks, “So, is this you signifying you’ve already proposed to me? Or…” She thought of another possibility, suppressing a smile, “Are you hinting that I should be the one to propose too?”
A trace of spring-like warmth curled at the corners of the man’s lips as he looked at her seriously, “That part isn’t necessary.”
His tone paused slightly, “However, starting now, you ought to be prepared.”
Mei Ran took a sip of red wine, asking unconsciously, “Prepared for what?”
“Prepared to respond to my possible marriage proposal at any time, anywhere.”
Any time, anywhere? That couldn't be possible; he was just joking with her, of course. Fu Shijin’s one and only proposal in this lifetime naturally had to be meticulously planned to be executed.
After finishing their meal, they left the restaurant hand in hand, bathing in the cool evening breeze, strolling slowly along the riverbank.
As they walked, a light drizzle suddenly began to fall. They ducked into a nearby mall to seek shelter and casually browsed.
In the menswear section, Mei Ran’s gaze was instantly drawn to a dark grey lightweight coat.
“Try it on?”
Fu Shijin was a natural clothes hanger, with excellent bodily proportions. Wearing this coat made him appear even more dashing and imposing. Mei Ran helped straighten his collar, “It looks great.”
The salesperson nearby promptly chimed in, “Sir, your wife has excellent taste. This is the flagship design from our fall fashion launch…”
The man was pleased by her use of the word “wife.” A thin smile touched his lips as he asked, “Mrs. Fu, is it the person who looks good, or the clothes?”
Mei Ran blushed slightly, “You look good.”
Hearing a satisfactory answer, Fu Shijin simply kissed her on the lips.
He was growing more and more fond of being close to her, regardless of occasion or time—as if he wanted everyone to know she belonged to him!
Someone else was still present…
“Then we’ll take this one.”
Mei Ran quickly intervened, handing over her own card again, “Use mine.”
He understood immediately, “Alright.”
This was the clothing she was buying for him.
After swiping the card, Mei Ran slowly signed her name. He stood behind her, watching her write, his heart suddenly turning soft and gooey.
The driver called to say he'd arrived, so they didn't continue shopping but headed directly back to the hotel by car.
The moment the door closed behind them, after setting their things down, he pressed her against the sofa and kissed her.
After a long, heated kiss, Mei Ran breathed lightly, catching her breath. Seeing the turbulent dark tide still swirling in the man’s eyes, she hurriedly moved to sit on another sofa.
Fu Shijin couldn’t help but laugh, “Afraid I'll eat you up?”
She slowly steadied her breathing, as if reaching a certain decision, then walked towards him again, “Fu Shijin.”
“Hmm?” He looked at her under the light, his eyes deep.
“The day after tomorrow is Grandpa Yu's eightieth birthday. Come with me to Binnan,” Mei Ran stopped two paces away from him. Her voice was as soft as the green hills after rain, “My dad will be there too.”
The man suddenly reached out, holding her slender waist, pulling her close until she was cradled between his powerful, long legs. His large hand pressed rhythmically, not too lightly nor too heavily, against her waist and hips. He smiled meaningfully, “This is the plan to make me public?”