CH 31

It turned out Xiang Wan didn’t have a fever the next day.

She was so energetic that she even ate two large bowls of fried rice with eggs.

Yu Zhou was impressed with her health and, of course, believed it was due to her timely care.

Because Xiang Wan had been caught in the rain yesterday, Yu Zhou kindly let her rest for the day, not needing to practice voice acting, and also temporarily postponed the cultural classes she had prepared for Xiang Wan.

However, Yu Zhou couldn’t figure out why she kept asking Xiang Wan to do various tasks if she believed that Xiang Wan was destined to return to her time. Wouldn’t it be better to be a carefree tourist?

No, it wouldn’t. Being in modern society, experiencing the rapid development of technology as well as the fast-paced lifestyle, Xiang Wan should strive to learn more knowledge and skills. Knowledge is power, and knowledge would be her best souvenir!

She was too excited, the ending should not have an exclamation mark.

In the afternoon, Yu Zhou received a reply to the message she had sent yesterday.

After reading the short message several times, she wandered around her bedroom, sat by the window, then moved to the living room, glanced at Xiang Wan, and finally sat down at the dining table.

Half an hour later, she finally approached Xiang Wan before saying heavily, “Wanwan, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“Well,” Yu Zhou prepared herself mentally, “Yesterday, when there was thunder, you showed no signs of returning to your time. I lay in bed, thinking about it for a while. I think we shouldn’t be trying things blindly; we need to figure out some things first.”

“Last month, I taught you how to use an iPad, and you asked me to help you look up information about your parents’ lives. We searched the internet, didn’t we? During your father’s time, the emperor was incompetent as the right prime minister liked to cause trouble. So most of the records are about that prime minister’s misdeeds, but not much about your father, just a few agricultural initiatives he proposed.”

“Right.”

“There are no records about your mother, let alone about you.”

Xiang Wan looked at her calmly.

“But I have a friend who works at the national museum. They have some internal resources and data packages that can be purchased. I asked her to buy one and help me investigate.”

“It cost me 50 yuan,” Yu Zhou added.

Xiang Wan smiled.

When she smiled, Yu Zhou felt a little embarrassed, as if she was too focused on the 50 yuan.

She cleared her throat before continuing, “Guess what?”

“I, I guess…” Xiang Wan pondered.

“Hey, I didn’t mean for you to actually guess. It’s just a rhetorical question, you should say, ‘What happened?'”

“What happened?”

“We found you!” Yu Zhou raised her voice while wiggling her eyebrows, feeling like she should have a gavel to emphasize the news.

Xiang Wan was startled as she looked at her with a complex expression.

“But,” Yu Zhou switched to a more somber tone, “about you, there’s only one sentence. ‘The eldest daughter of the Left Prime Minister, Miss Xiang AhXi…'”

“Eighteen years old, deceased.”

She gradually restrained her playful expression, as those few words made her heart waver.

Xiang Wan was also stunned.

In the silence between the two, kitten Wanwan meowed.

The TV was playing “The Yongzheng Dynasty.” The solemn sound of history echoed as the courtiers paid their respects, shouting “Long live, long live, ten thousand years!”

Ten thousand years, as if it could indeed last forever.

Xiang Wan swallowed, her eyelashes trembling slightly as she asked Yu Zhou, “What does this mean?”

“It means that you…” Yu Zhou hesitated and then used a different address, “The ancient Xiang AhXi, died. And it’s recorded in history.”

Xiang Wan didn’t speak.

“You have to know that what we are experiencing now is like being on a train. All the events of history are the rails under the train, linked together and connected from beginning to end, allowing the train of time to move forward steadily.”

“Since the death of Xiang AhXi has been recorded, then…”

“Then, I can’t go back,” Xiang Wan said.

Yu Zhou’s feet in slippers were a bit flustered, she wriggled toes before saying, “Think about it, think about it, calm down.”

She stood up and looked around the living room before walking to the water dispenser, and bent down to move the several bottles of mineral water next to it.

She also moved Wanwan’s cat food away.

Xiang Wan peered at her, waiting for her to finish her actions before asking, “What are you doing?”

Yu Zhou clapped her hands, sweating a bit, “I’m clearing this area, so there’s a clean wall.”

“You…”

“If you’re sad, you can come and face the wall,” Yu Zhou glanced at her cautiously.

Xiang Wan raised her hand, hooking her hair behind her ear, then slightly bit her lower lip while looking at her, laughing with a “pfft” sound.

“?” Yu Zhou stared at Xiang Wan with hands on her hips.

Xiang Wan turned her head back and continued watching “The Yongzheng Dynasty.”

After a while, she said, “No need.”

It took Yu Zhou a full thirty seconds to understand Xiang Wan’s meaning. She had imagined many situations, like crying, making a fuss, or facing the wall, but she didn’t expect this one.

Such a calm one.

She angrily moved the water bottles and cat food back, muttering, “This ungrateful girl.”

Speechless.

She sat down beside her again, trying to persuade herself and Xiang Wan, “You’re still young, about the same age as when I was in college. At that time, I had just left home, feeling so happy and free as if the world was so vast that I could do anything, no longer controlled by my parents. I was an adult.”

“Back then, I had no idea what it meant to be grateful for being raised and to experience the pain of parting. Later, guess what?”

“What happened?” Xiang Wan tactfully continued the conversation.

“By the time I was in my third and fourth years, every time I finished winter and summer breaks at home and my parents sent me to the airport to go back to school, I cried every time, really, every time.”

“Home, you know, is something you only truly appreciate when you grow older. It has a rebound effect.” Yu Zhou shook her head as she looked at her.

Xiang Wan glanced at her as she bent down to pick up a piece of peach with a toothpick.

“‘The tree desires stillness but the wind keeps blowing, the child wants to provide for their parents but they don’t wait around,’ I don’t know if you have this poem in your time, but it’s really well-written. As you grow up, you’ll understand the bitterness within.” As Yu Zhou spoke, she herself started to feel a bit upset.

“Last time I saw a news story, sigh, that mother and daughter were so unfortunate. The mother worked so hard to collect and sell waste to support her daughter’s college education. Finally, the daughter graduated and found a job, but the mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness and passed away.”

“The girl cried so heartbreakingly, it hurt to watch.” Yu Zhou choked up.

“The age gap between parents and children can often lead to an emotional disconnect. The saddest part is when you realize you want to repay their kindness, but you no longer have the chance.”

As she spoke, she suddenly heard a soft sob next to her.

Yu Zhou came back to her senses before looking at Xiang Wan.

Xiang Wan’s lips parted slightly as her sobbing, whimpering, and wailing grew louder.

But her expression remained unchanged.

“What are you…doing?” Yu Zhou panicked. She didn’t want to think that her words had made Xiang Wan lose her mind.

Xiang Wan stopped crying and asked her seriously, “You said all that, did you just want to see me cry?”

So she did the voiceover for Yu Zhou.

“Damn it,” Yu Zhou got angry, “I didn’t let you learn voice acting to make light of me!”

“You’ve really upset me, Xiang Wan.”

She headed towards the bedroom, not wanting to deal with her anymore.

But as Yu Zhou walked, she realized that she had done all that mental preparation to make Xiang Wan feel better. Why did she get upset when Xiang Wan didn’t seem sad and even said things to provoke her?

Something must be wrong with her.

Fortunately, Xiang Wan’s emotions remained stable as she ate a reasonable amount of dinner. Yu Zhou felt relieved about the small matter and was about to think about Xiang Wan’s future when another hiccup came up.

Xiang Wan had a fever.

She didn’t have one during the day, but it started in the night, with intermittent low fever. Her temperature would rise and then fall, continuing until the next morning.

Yu Zhou checked the newly measured temperature, 37.5 degrees Celsius, thinking that if it didn’t go down soon, she would have to take Xiang Wan to the hospital.

She was actually a bit reluctant to take Xiang Wan to the hospital, feeling that it might scare her.

Feeling conflicted, she first sent a voice message to Peng Xiangzhi: “Director Peng, I won’t be coming today. Wanwan has a fever, so I might have to take her to the hospital later.”

Half an hour later, Peng Xiangzhi replied: “Ah, okay, okay, take good care of her and get well soon.”

Another message followed: “Will you be coming tomorrow? Today, we’re almost done with the main character’s voice recordings, so tomorrow and the day after will be for the background crowd.”

The background crowd referred to the background sounds of groups of people, such as street vendors and conversations between pedestrians.

Yu Zhou thought for a moment: “I guess I won’t be going for the background crowd recordings.”

She didn’t understand any of this, and it seemed like she wouldn’t be of much help.

“Alright,” Peng Xiangzhi said, “you take care of your business first, and we’ll have a meal together when we wrap up the filming.”

“Okay.” Yu Zhou put down her phone and looked at Xiang Wan, sighing.