To Zhu Xianglan, this was the greatest insult and humiliation in her life.
What happened in the Su House stayed within its walls. The unthinkable matters that happened within the Su House were beyond an outsider’s wildest dreams.
“Are you talking about this?” inquired Lei Qingyi as he placed a large box before Yi Ling.
Yi Ling had the urge to hit him when she saw the box.
“I asked you to take the bag! Does this look like a bag to you?” she yelled, pointing at the wooden box. “Is there something wrong with your eyes? This is a box, for god’s sake! Can you not tell between a box and a bag?”
“It was stored inside a bag, though,” argued Lei Qingyi feebly.
Yi Ling glared at him and made it look as if he was strangling him.
“You are a helpless idiot, Lei Qingyi.”
Lei Qingyi rubbed his head.
“Heh…” he laughed dryly.
“What do we do with this?” he asked, pointing at the wooden box. “Do I put it back?”
“Do whatever you want with it,” said Yi Ling dismissively. She wasn’t putting much thought into it, and it had been way too long, so for a moment, she did not recall the box’s contents.
Just as Lei Qingyi was about to toss it back onto the shelf, something aroused his curiosity.
He recalled vaguely that the box was something Yi Ling treasured.
“Can I see what’s inside the box?” he ventured. He wondered what was inside. Could it be trinkets from Yi Ling’s childhood? He was getting really curious now. Maybe there were heaps of Yi Ling’s childhood photos inside.
“Go ahead! Don’t bother me. I’m busy.”
Occupied, Yi Ling waved him off without listening properly.
Lei Qingyi sunk into the sofa with the box in his arms. He inspected it for a while… and realized that it was locked.
“Hey…” he wanted to ask where the key was.
“Buzz off. I’m busy,” she cut him off before he could finish.
Fine then, thought Lei Qingyi, I’ll just have to do it myself.
He gave the tiny lock a squeeze. Oh. It was just an ordinary lock. He could break it easily.
The lock gave way after a few squeezes.
Tossing the lock aside, he opened the box and emptied out its contents—an old box.
He opened it. There was a teardrop-shaped jade pendant within. He wasn’t a connoisseur of jade, but he found it pretty. It didn’t look like costume jewelry to him. She must have held onto it for a while already, he thought, so why hadn’t she mentioned anything about it? Could it be a keepsake from her real parents? Did it contain some sort of clue for her to find them?
He placed the jade pendant back into the box and rifled out an envelope. His hand slipped, and the contents of the envelope fell to the table. Photographs. Lots of them.
He picked one up. “Huh? This person looks familiar. Have I seen her before?”
“She looked a little like… Yan Huan,” he mused. In truth, she was prettier and more independent version of Yan Huan. She appeared to be gentle, like a docile lady of noble birth.
Yan Huan was different. She could get even more stubborn than a man at times.
He picked up another photograph. This one was of a woman cradling a little girl. The little girl was chewing her fingers. She was a pretty little thing, with large eyes and a dainty face.
“Huh? How did you get this picture?” Yi Ling snatched it from his hands. “Where did all this come from?”
Yi Ling sat down and inspected the photos. These were photos of Madam Yan!
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Huanhuan inherited her beauty from her,” she said, pointing to the woman in the picture.
“Yes,” agreed Lei Qingyi wholehearted. She was very, very beautiful. The apple had not fallen far from the tree after all.
Yi Ling began browsing through the pictures. They were all pictures of Madam Yan and Yan Huan. A photo documented each and every of Yan Huan’s childhood birthdays. But where had all these come from?
“Where did you get this?” she demanded.
“From that box,” admitted Lei Qingyi, pointing to the box.
That was when Yi Ling remembered. She quietly kept all the photos. “Madam Yan had prepared this for Huanhuan. She had told me to only view its contents when Huanhuan runs out of options.”
She gave Lei Qingyi a look. “Thanks to you, I have broken my promise.”
She scrambled to stuff the photographs back into the envelope. The letter remained unread inside. Lastly, she placed the jade pendant back inside. She had seen that before. It was a keepsake from Madam Yan, so it belonged to Yan Huan now. She had no business to touch it without permission.
Lei Qingyi felt wronged. He had asked her for permission, hadn’t he?
He pondered. “Yan Huan’s mother told you to open the envelope when Yan Huan runs out of options, but that doesn’t seem like a possibility with Yan Huan’s current stature.”
“True that,” said Yi Ling. She wasn’t the least bit worried about Yan Huan’s current state. “My Huanhuan is rich, famous, and owns her own company. Worse comes to worst, she still has me. With me, she’ll never run out of options.”
“What do we do with these, then?” asked Lei Qingyi, pointing to the photographs. “At the very least, you should give them to Yan Huan as a souvenir. They are her mother’s last gift to her. Are you planning to let these things rot inside here?”
Yi Ling’s movements slowed down. She pondered. What Lei Qingyi said made sense. She had already broken her promise anyway, so wasn’t it about time to let these photographs return to their rightful owner?
Madam Yan forbade Yan Huan from marking her tombstone with a photograph, and Yan Huan probably didn’t have many photographs of her mother either.
She kept the things back into the box, and passed it to Lei Qingyi.
“Give this to Huanhuan for me. I’ll be busy for the next few days.”
“Got it! It’ll reach her hands safe and sound,” said Lei Qingyi. Neither of them noticed one of the photographs falling off the table and slipping underneath the sofa.
