Host, the villain's corruption level has exploded!

Chapter 967: Memories (2)

When she opened the window, she saw a figure in the distance at eye level with her.

She didn't know if the boy felt her undisguised gaze, but she could clearly see his thin, wiry back under the golden sunlight, and the bone-like joints of his arms that seemed to protrude as he cut away the ivy.

Song Zhishu squinted, took a sip of water, slowly pulled over a stool, and sat down to openly "watch" the young man's work.

She wasn't actually a very patient person, but that day, she watched Nan Gushu work for as long as he did it.

To be honest, it's not exactly funny.

She simply searched his body for all the bones that could be called fragile, looked at the sliver of his waist that was exposed when he reached out, looked at the knuckles of his wrists, and at his—perfect cheek that he occasionally turned to the side.

Although she had been there for a long time, her eyes remained as cold as snow, with only incomprehensible and unclear smoke swirling within them, devoid of any other emotions.

She wasn't sure if Nan Gushu had shown it to her on purpose, or rather, she wasn't unsure but too lazy to think about it or care. She just found it interesting, and since she happened to have nothing else to do, she just sat there staring at someone for so long without really understanding what was going on.

However, after so much time had passed, she started to feel bored.

She's always been like this; her emotions change faster than anything else. After Nan Gushu had almost completely removed the ivy from the wall, she stood up, ready to leave.

But just as she was about to turn around, the young man seemed to sense something and suddenly turned around. Song Zhishu saw that gloomy and exquisite face.

His lips were crimson, his eyes were long and narrow, his pupils were like black lacquer, and there were two blood-tear-like red moles below the corners of his eyes, which made him look even more tragically beautiful than a ghost.

He stood there alone, like a rotting, winding grapevine in autumn, yet unwilling to wither.

Song Zhishu closed her eyes slightly, scrutinizing him with a disdainful gaze.

Nan Gushu, such a gloomy person, actually let her look at him like that. He stared at her too, but his gaze was always so inconspicuous that Song Zhishu didn't feel any discomfort.

Suddenly, he slightly curved his lips, and an exquisitely beautiful face bloomed like an ink painting, sweeping away the unsettling gloom, making him as gentle and cold as autumn.

He smiled at her, making the dilapidated wall behind him, now devoid of any real ivy cover, appear as a mere shadow. In the vastness of the world, his eyes became her only refuge. In that instant, Song Zhishu felt that the sun was far too hot that day.

Song Zhishu is a very slow-witted person when it comes to matters of the heart.

But on that one occasion, seeing the faint smile on Nan Gushu's face, she reached out and accepted the olive branch he offered.

He volunteered to her—

He is trying to save himself.

From then on, Song Zhishu had an extra personal study companion.

She herself found it unbelievable; she had simply asked Xiaoyu to ask for his opinion after that, but she never expected him to come back with Xiaoyu.

Song Zhishu was never a person who felt guilty. Just like when she got a new toy, she would give it care and love without reservation, but after she had played with it enough, she would let it be covered with a thick layer of dust.

She didn't plan to let Nan Gushu stay with her for long, because apart from her closest people, she didn't have the energy to have in-depth conversations with anyone else, and no one would be willing to stay with her for long.

She's already being kind enough to give him a few good days just because he gave her a smile that she deliberately tried to please.

During that period, Song Chao was extremely busy, while Xia Mingyuan had a few days of leisure. She never tried to control Song Zhishu's temper, and after investigating Nan Gushu's background in a rough way, she let Song Zhishu do as she pleased.

After all, to be honest, even if Song Zhishu made a huge mess of things, Song Chao and Xia Mingyuan would have the ability to patch it up.

However, when Song Zhishu saw Nan Gushu up close for the first time, she was immediately struck by his slender limbs.

At that moment, she sat in a chair, arms crossed, head raised, and scanned the young man's tall, slender but resilient figure from head to toe. She clicked her tongue in a critical tone, looked away with disdain, picked up a pastry, and brought it to her lips, commanding in an unyielding tone, "From now on, take better care of yourself and make yourself look like a human being."

Nan Gushu did not show any humiliation. He just stood quietly, his eyes, which were like dying water, fell on the arrogant young lady not far away. A spark ignited in his eyes because of her sitting position.

He smiled and replied softly, "Yes, Miss."

Nan Gushu was already 18 years old that year. Their birthdays were both in the spring. He was almost two years older than Song Zhishu, but he still called her "Miss" with ease.

He remained silent about his family background, perhaps knowing that he was completely exposed in front of the young lady.

Of course, this is indeed the case; Nan Gushu's life story up to the age of 18 had already been placed on Song Zhishu's desk.

Song Zhishu glanced at it twice; it was nothing more than those dramas about wealthy families.

Nan Gushu's mother was once a well-known heiress in Kyoto. Her success was entirely self-made, unrelated to any family connections. She was gentle in nature, yet a true business genius who had even made a name for herself in Kyoto, until she—accepted the marriage proposal of a seemingly ordinary man.

Her original family severed ties with her almost ruthlessly, unwilling to see her and her useless husband again, and she turned away without hesitation. She accompanied her mediocre husband as he climbed up the social ladder from the bottom, until he finally gained some fame in Kyoto.

At that time, she was pregnant.

She carefully protected the child because she thought she could finally embrace happiness.

However, on the day she gave birth, her husband's lover came to her hospital room and said something, and she went into premature labor that day, giving birth to a somewhat thin baby boy.

She held her child, her whole body like a withered tree with its bones removed, her parched lips seeming to draw blood to her heart. Everything was pressing down on her, and she finally gave in, her heart bleeding uncontrollably.

She was a very intelligent person; she kept her cards close to her chest. But she was also someone who could never grow thorns, and could only slowly curl up in a corner, holding her child. She passed away when her child was ten years old.

It was a bright and sunny summer day when she jumped from the second floor.

Not long before, her husband's mistress came to the door again; by the way, the woman had a child six months younger than hers. After that, her mother also invited her out and said some things to "educate" her. Then, one ordinary evening, her husband suddenly stared at her face and said, "Why do I think you've become a little ugly?"

Perhaps, they are things that might make people feel down, but there's absolutely no need to dwell on them.

However, she still chose to die.

Her life was full of ups and downs, but she never blamed anyone.

Perhaps the only person she blamed before she died was herself.

Because she had let her child go out to play, but she hadn't expected him to pick a beautiful flower to give to her, so he returned home early—and so, on a sunny summer day, he saw his mother fall.