The scorching summer had arrived, and with the summer came a series of typhoons and torrential rains. For Han Yan, this summer was long, unbearable, and filled with storms and heavy rains. Old Madam Bai had become her nemesis, her camity, and the source of her misery. Since the beginning of summer, the old madam had devised a new way to torment and humiliate her—she made her read The Tale of Diao Liu Shi, an old novel about an adulteress who faced divine retribution.

  Every time she read it, the old madam would look at her with that reproachful, deeply meaningful gaze, as if to say, "You are this woman! You will face divine retribution! You will face divine retribution!”

  Then, she began to train her in her walking posture and correct her speech, constantly saying, "Get rid of those habits from the pleasure quarters! You must learn to act like a noble dy! Look at you! Your face is full of frivolous air!”

  Han Yan couldn′t bear it anymore. Once, in a fit of unbearable grief and rage, she ran out of Hanyan Vil into the rain. She ran wildly, heading towards Songzhu Bridge.

  Underneath that bridge, after every torrential rain, mountain floods would pour down, and the river would swell and surge violently.

  She reached the riverbank but was caught by Gao Lide, who had chased after her. Grabbing her, Gao Lide, his face pale, said, "What are you trying to do, Han Yan?”

  “Let me go! I can′t take it anymore! I can′t take it!” she cried.

  “Han Yan! Be strong!” Gao Lide looked deeply into her eyes and said earnestly, “All the suffering and grievances you′ve endured have been for Pei Wen. If you seek death, what meaning will any of it have? Be brave! You have always been the bravest woman I′ve ever known! One day, Pei Wen will understand you, and the hardships you′ve endured will not have been in vain. Live well, Han Yan! For Pei Wen, for the child you′re carrying!”

  Yes, for Pei Wen, for the child she was carrying! She could not die! Han Yan followed Li De back home. From that day on, Gao Lide watched over Han Yan closely, protecting her and often staying with her all day, talking to her and doing everything he could to ease her sorrowful emotions. He didn′t tell Pei Wen about Han Yan′s attempt to end her life because rumors about him and Han Yan had already spread in the area, and he feared causing Pei Wen any unnecessary misunderstandings.

  As for Han Yan, ever since being drenched in the rain, she fell ill and was bedridden for days. When she could finally get up, she was emaciated, weak as a ghost, and would often faint without reason. Upon waking, she would say to Li De, Don't tell Pei Wen, because he doesn′t care!”

  Did Pei Wen truly not care? No, he did notice Han Yan′s frailty and her pallor, but he completely misinterpreted the reality of the situation. He believed that her pallor and exhaustion were all for someone else! He doubted her, mocked her, and ridiculed her! Under his sarcasm and derision, Han Yan became even more silent, more withdrawn, and more sorrowful. Hanyan Vil was no longer her paradise, no longer the pce she dreamed of—it had become her hell, her grave.

  She no longer wished to expin anything to Pei Wen, allowing the cold war between them to continue, letting the chasm and distance between them grow wider with each passing day. Seeing Han Yan silent with him yet ughing and chatting with Li De only deepened Pei Wen′s suspicions. As a result, he grew noticeably colder and more critical toward her. He resented her pallor, cursed her thinness, and interpreted all these things in a completely different light.

  Once, seeing her sitting tearfully alone by the window, he coldly recited an ancient poem:

  "The beauty rolls up her beaded curtain,Sits deep in thought, her brows furrowed.Only tear stains are seen.Who knows whom her heart resents?"

  Hearing the cold sarcasm and bitterness in his tone, Han Yan raised her eyes and stared at him, asking, “Who do you think I resent?”

  “How should I know?” Pei Wen replied irritably before walking out of the room and smming the door behind him.

  Han Yan colpsed into her chair, closing her eyes as a wave of despair, terror, and pain engulfed her, tearing her apart. Weakly, she turned her head against the chair′s back and murmured softly, her voice trembling with anguish.

  “Oh, Pei Wen! Oh, Pei Wen! Oh, Pei Wen! Please, don′t be like this! Let′s not be like this! I love you so, so much!”

  Pei Wen did not hear those words. He could no longer hear any sound of Han Yan′s love; jealousy and suspicion had long deafened his ears and clouded his vision. The door to his love had already been shut. Han Yan was locked outside that door, never to enter again.

  During those sorrowful, stifling, and storm-filled days, a small life entered the world under less-than-welcoming circumstances. Because of Han Yan′s frail health, the baby was also thin and small. Newborns are rarely beautiful; this one, with its wrinkled, red face, looked like a little old man.

  Though Pei Wen was not in good spirits, he still felt the joy of becoming a father for the first time. But that joy was shattered by a single remark from Old Madam Bai: “Ah, this little thing—how is it that she looks neither like her father nor her mother? Judging by her appearance, it seems the Bai family′s genes are not strong enough!”

  Humans are cruel. God gave humanity the ability to speak, but He never anticipated that nguage could become a weapon—the easiest and most hurtful weapon to wield. Pei Wen′s joy vanished. He often stared at that little thing for hours, studying her, doubting her.

  In her infancy, little Tingting, weak and frail, was a fussy and crying child. Her constant wailing irritated Pei Wen, and he would often shout at her, “Cry! Cry! Cry! How long are you going to cry?”

  Han Yan was sensitive and quickly noticed that Bai Peiwen did not like the child. In the stillness of the night, she would often cradle the baby in her arms, weeping softly as she whispered to the little infant:

  "Tingting, little Tingting, why did you come into this world? Don′t you know we are both unwanted?"

  Yet Gao Lide, with his pure and sincere enthusiasm, loved the child. He had always carried a natural affection for life itself. Often, he would hold little Tingting in his arms, pying and ughing with her. He would eagerly take the bottle to feed her, and when he looked at her wrinkled little face, he felt a simple joy. Amazed, he would ugh and say:

  "Oh! I never knew babies looked like this!"

  But when Old Madam Bai and Bai Peiwen saw all of this, it turned into something distorted, something dreadful and filthy. Old Madam Bai once said to Bai Peiwen:

  "I think the child likes Gao Lide far more than she likes you! I've never seen a grown man like Gao Lide who loves holding children so much—especially someone else's child!"

  Dark clouds loomed over Hanyan Vil, like the sky before a typhoon—heavy, bck, suffocating, and oppressive. The air was thick with gloom and tension, signaling the coming of a storm. Yes, the typhoon arrived. It was a massive storm, shaking the earth and rattling the house. Trees in the mountains splintered and fell as the howling winds carried sheets of torrential rain that shed against the windowpanes.

  The sky was as bck as ink. In the garden, the banyan trees were bent and twisted in one direction, their branches contorted, their leaves flying wildly. Willow branches tangled together, wrestling and struggling in the air. The roses gasped under the assault of wind and rain, their stems broken and petals scattered, leaving the ground covered in torn leaves and shattered crimson blooms.

  Inside Hanyan Vil, all doors and windows were tightly shut, yet the wind still forced its way in through the cracks, making the entire house creak, shake, and tremble.

  Pei Wen had still gone to the factory that morning. By afternoon, he braved the rain to return to Hanyan Vil. The moment he stepped into the living room, he saw Gao Lide sitting on the sofa, holding little Tingting in his arms, rocking her gently while murmuring softly to her.

  "Little Tingting, be good; don′t cry. Don′t be afraid of the wind; don′t be afraid of the rain. When you grow up, you′ll be a heroine!"

  Han Yan stood to the side, shaking a bottle of milk, waiting for it to cool. A surge of anger flooded Pei Wen′s chest. What a heartwarming family scene! Without a word, he walked over, tore off his rain-soaked coat, and threw it onto the dining table.

  Han Yan looked at him and, with an open heart, asked, Was the rain heavy?"

  "Can′t you see for yourself?" Pei Wen snapped irritably.

  Han Yan froze for a moment, then continued, "I heard the river has risen. Was it difficult crossing the bridge? A Lan said the Songzhu Bridge is nearly submerged!"

  "As long as it doesn′t drown you, it′s fine!" Pei Wen retorted.

  Han Yan bit her lip as a wave of grievance gripped her heart. She stared at Pei Wen, her brows lightly furrowed.

  "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

  "Nothing," he replied sullenly.

  She pced the bottle into the baby's mouth while Gao Lide still held the child. Han Yan expined softly, “Tingting was frightened by the typhoon and wouldn't stop crying. Li De carried her around the room, and she calmed down.”

  "Hmph!" Bai Peiwen let out a cold ugh. “It seems they get along very well. Who would've thought Li De had such a way with children!”

  With that, he didn't even look back at them and headed straight upstairs. Han Yan and Gao Lide exchanged gnces. Finally, it was Gao Lide who spoke first: You should go check on him. He doesn't seem to be in a good mood.”

  Han Yan took the child and slowly walked upstairs. The baby had already fallen asleep, sucking on the rubber nipple of the bottle. Han Yan first pced her gently in the crib in the nursery and covered her carefully with a bnket.

  Then, she returned to the bedroom. Pei Wen stood by the window, staring bnkly at the raging wind and rain outside. When he heard Han Yan come in, he didn't turn around and only said, "Close the door!"

  Han Yan hesitated for a moment. His tone sounded so much like his mother's—harsh, cold, and heavy with command. She obediently closed the door and walked over to him.

  He stood there rigidly, his gaze fixed on the window outside. The branches of the trees were still groaning, twisting, and struggling in the fierce wind. He stared at those branches, his face completely expressionless.

  "What heavy rain," Han Yan said softly, stepping up to the window.

  "The rain has damaged the roses."

  "It doesn't matter. Gao Lide can help you tidy them up," Pei Wen said icily.