Volume One, Chapter 123: Vanishing

Deep in a cold winter night, a single lamp remained lit in the Zhong residence. Zhong Lingyu was writing fervently by the oil lamp.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Her maid entered with a cup of warm tea. Hearing the violent coughing, she quickly set the tea down and hurried over to pat her mistress's back.

"Miss, it is very late. Why don't you rest and finish writing tomorrow?"

Zhong Lingyu shook her head. When the coughing finally subsided, she pulled away her handkerchief; it was stained with blood.

Seeing the blood-soaked handkerchief, the maid’s knees went weak with fear. Trembling, she said, "Miss, I will go call a doctor immediately."

"There is no need," Zhong Lingyu refused. "I have been ill for so many years; you know as well as I do that I am beyond saving."

"Miss..." the maid choked back a sob. "That cannot be true. There must be a way."

Zhong Lingyu smiled bitterly. "Chuntao, stop deceiving yourself. You have been by my side since you were a child; you know better than anyone that my father... he passed away the same way."

Thinking of her father, an irrepressible longing filled her heart. Her father was the best father in the world. Other girls were confined to their homes from a young age to learn the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, but her father never restrained her. He taught her to ride horses, to play cuju, and even how to conduct business. He would tell her, "My Lingyu is no less capable than any man."

And her mother—her mother had always been so gentle. Though she would complain that her father was raising her too wildly, she never once stood in his way. After her father passed away from illness, her mother soon followed, dying of a broken heart.

Zhong Lingyu felt the heavens were truly unfair. Their family of three had done no wrong; they had always strived to live happily, yet their time together had been so brief.

"Chuntao, is there someone you like?" Zhong Lingyu asked suddenly.

Chuntao blushed and hurriedly said, "Miss, I do not wish to marry. I want to stay by your side forever."

Zhong Lingyu replied, "Your mistress doesn't have many years left. Since you have been with me since childhood, I have always treated you like a younger sister. Before I go, I want to ensure your future."

"Miss..."

"Enough," Zhong Lingyu interrupted. "Do not say such things; they are meaningless. Let us talk of practical matters."

Chuntao bit her lip, and only after a long silence did she whisper, "Miss, I do not want to marry."

"Oh?" Zhong Lingyu looked at her, her complexion pale.

Chuntao continued, "I want to live as freely as you do, Miss."

Zhong Lingyu paused, then smiled bitterly. "Silly girl, how am I living freely?"

She was now over twenty. Other women were already wives and mothers, but she remained alone. Her father had intended to keep her at home and find her a husband who would marry into the family, but he had passed away before he could find a suitable match. After that, to keep the sorrow at bay, she had poured her heart into business, expanding the Taihe Firm—which her father and Uncle Fang had co-founded—several times over.

By the time she realized it, her health had already begun to fail. She began to cough just as her father had, and the illness would not leave her. Later, she abandoned the idea of marriage, knowing she would soon die; there was no need to burden anyone else.

"Chuntao, do you enjoy business?" Zhong Lingyu asked.

Chuntao nodded. "I do. I have learned so much by your side, Miss."

Zhong Lingyu smiled. "Good. You have always been my right hand. Let us do this: I will return your deed of indenture to you, and in the future, you shall be a manager at the Taihe Silk Shop."

Tears in her eyes, Chuntao knelt. "Thank you, Miss. Your kindness is so great, I have no way to repay you."

Zhong Lingyu helped her up weakly. "Enough, why cry? Go and rest now. I will look at the account books a little longer before I sleep."

Chuntao stood up but did not leave, remaining instead to help organize the ledgers.

...

In early spring, as all things began to grow, new buds appeared on the bare branches. Zhong Lingyu lay on a rocking chair, watching the vitality of the garden slowly return. She remembered that her father had loved sitting in this very chair.

Chuntao walked over. "Miss, Master Fang is here."

"Please, invite him over."

Uncle Fang approached, and seeing Zhong Lingyu sitting in the courtyard, he hurried forward. "Niece, it is still cold outside. You should go back indoors."

Zhong Lingyu shook her head. "Uncle Fang, I truly have no strength left to rise. I hope you will forgive my lack of manners."

Uncle Fang sat beside her. "I call you niece, but in my heart, I treat you as a daughter. There is no need for such formality between us."

Zhong Lingyu smiled slightly. "Then I shall not be formal. Chuntao, bring me the booklets I wrote."

"Yes." Chuntao retreated, returning shortly with a stack of booklets.

Zhong Lingyu said, "Uncle Fang, these are things I wrote recently. See if they are of any use."

Uncle Fang picked up a booklet and flipped through it quickly, discovering strategies for the development of the Taihe Firm.

"Useful, very useful. Niece, you are just like your father—born to be in business."

Zhong Lingyu looked slightly proud. "Uncle Fang is right. I, too, think I am quite good at making money."

Uncle Fang chuckled. "Enough, on a day like today, why speak of business? I came to celebrate your birthday. Before we knew it, our Lingyu has turned thirty."

"Indeed," Zhong Lingyu looked at the large tree in the yard. Hanging from its branches was a swing her father had made for her when she was a child.

"Uncle Fang, I think I am about to leave," she said softly.

Uncle Fang was startled, but he forced a calm expression. "What nonsense are you talking about? There is no such thing; you have a long life ahead of you."

Zhong Lingyu reached out with difficulty, clutching the jade pendant on her chest. She could clearly feel her strength fading. "It is alright. I have long been prepared. I am not sad."

Chuntao suddenly knelt, bowing her head and sobbing, trying her best not to cry out loud.

Uncle Fang turned away, quietly wiping a tear. "Niece, I bought you a birthday gift—a gold hairpin. Do you like it?"

A smile touched Zhong Lingyu's lips. "I love it."

"Let me put it on for you." Uncle Fang stood up and pinned the gold hairpin into her hair.

"Does it look good?"

"It does."

"You cannot even see it."

"I can guess. I am so beautiful, whatever I wear looks good."

Uncle Fang could not help but gently stroke her hair, his eyes softening. "Yes, our Lingyu is truly beautiful. Everything looks good on you."

Zhong Lingyu paused, then whispered, "Uncle Fang, Chuntao, you do not need to feel sad for me. I am not sad, truly."

She used the last of her strength to grip the jade pendant. "Think about it—I am going to find my father and mother. How could I be sad?"

Snowflakes began to drift from the sky, landing on Zhong Lingyu. She did not feel the cold; she simply closed her eyes.

She thought, *The spring snow is not cold at all.*

She thought, *Heaven was not kind to our family of three in this life; in the next, it must surely make amends.*