Rebirth: Marriage into a Powerful Family

Yousijia opened her Moments feed and immediately noticed Zhang Qi’s latest post. A neat grid of nine photos. The caption contained only three characters— Alumni Gathering. Zhang Qi had been Gu Yu’s classmate at Harvard, and among those nine snapshots, Yousijia’s gaze quickly caught on a familiar figure. It was not difficult to notice, for in the fourth photo, Zhang Qi had placed a picture of Gu Yu and Tang Yayi together. Even the very suit Gu Yu wore in that photo was the one she herself had carefully chosen for him that very morning before he left the house. Staring at that image, Yousijia could not help but wonder—had Gu Yu ever smiled with such unguarded joy in front of her? In her memory, it seemed he never had. She and Zhang Qi shared many mutual friends, nearly all of them Gu Yu’s classmates or colleagues in Washington. The comments beneath the post came swiftly: “Yayi and Gu Yu look so well-matched. Truly the most radiant couple from our university dances, as if time itself had turned back and we were still in school.” “A golden couple, no doubt about it! No wonder Gu Yu suddenly changed his mind about attending when he’d said he couldn’t come. So it was because the great beauty Tang was visiting Washington.” Yousijia wished to read further, to linger over the chatter of these so-called mutual friends, but when she refreshed the page, the post had already vanished. It was not deleted—more likely, Zhang Qi had belatedly realized his mistake and adjusted the audience, excluding her. A new notification appeared on her phone. Messages from friends and relatives offering birthday blessings. Everyone but Gu Yu had remembered. Two weeks ago, he had promised her—solemnly—that he would be there to spend her birthday with her. Now, looking at the cascade of warm messages on her screen, a faint, ironic smile curved Yousijia’s pale lips. That day, she had already received countless thoughtful gifts, each one like the little mountains of greetings piling up on her phone. Yet the most important gift, the one she longed for, was missing. And if that fleeting glimpse of his photograph at the reunion was to be counted as a “surprise,” then it was one as bitter as it was unexpected. By evening, when it was time for dinner, Yousijia carried the cake she had baked earlier from the refrigerator. She sent Gu Yu a message: 【Yousijia: Where are you? Are you finished with work?】 No reply came. Before bed, she checked her phone again. Hours later, the message still lay unanswered. Clad in a mist-blue silk nightdress, she sat upon the bed and finally dialed his number. It rang several times before he picked up. “Hello?” She could hear the slur of alcohol in his voice. Pressing her lips together, she asked softly, “Where are you?” “In the car,” he answered, rubbing at his brow. After a pause, he added, “Work ended late tonight. Don’t wait for me. Get some rest.” She was about to speak again when another voice, distinctly female, rang clear through the line— “Gu Yu, what are you doing? Who are you calling?” How unfortunate, she thought bitterly, that modern phones had such impeccable microphones. Even Tang Yayi’s tone of complaint reached her as though whispered into her own ear. Her grip on the phone tightened. Moments later, after what seemed like Gu Yu’s attempt to soothe the woman beside him, that girlish voice receded. “Was that Tang Yayi?” she asked quietly. There was a brief silence before he answered. “Yes.” “She’s in the car with you?” “Mhm. She drank too much. I’m sending her back to her hotel. We ran into each other at the banquet tonight.” He explained, then quickly added, “It was only the alumni gathering.” The alumni gathering—with Tang Yayi. Lifting her eyes, Yousijia saw her own reflection in the distant floor-to-ceiling window. Behind her stretched the vast, empty room—hollow, echoing, like her heart in that moment. “And what exactly is she to you?” The question slipped from her lips before she could restrain it. Why, after all, was her husband driving another woman—a woman who happened to be his first love—back to a hotel at night? On the other end, silence. Yousijia ended the call. Night fell. Alone in the expanse of their two-meter-wide bed, she felt a chill seep into her bones. She had never imagined settling abroad, but for Gu Yu’s overseas work she had followed, leaving behind her own world. Here, apart from him, she had no one. She had believed that childhood sweethearts who had grown together from youth to adulthood would naturally journey on into old age. Clutching the silk fabric over her heart, she felt the sting of tears, but reminded herself—on one’s birthday, the celebrant ought to be happy. Eventually, frowning, she drifted into a restless sleep. And in the depths of night, half-dreaming, she felt the weight of a mountain pressing down upon her. The heavy, wine-tainted breath at her neck forced her eyes open in the darkness. Above her, Gu Yu braced himself, his gaze—those alluring peach-blossom eyes—burning even in shadow, as though the night itself could not dim their light.