Volume One, Chapter 60: Ashes

While studying in the United Kingdom, Jiang Wan originally rented an apartment near her university. After she started dating Lu Wenzhou, she moved into his villa in the suburbs.

The manor, built in the last century, had once belonged to nobility and exuded luxury in every detail. From the grand ceilings to the smallest door locks, everything was crafted in the lavish Victorian style. Not a single corner was spared, with every inch revealing meticulous elegance. Heavy, intricately made curtains were edged with gold thread. Crystal chandeliers adorned each room, and the furniture was decorated with ornate carvings.

When Jiang Wan first moved in, she found it hard to acclimate. She joked that every time she entered, she felt like she was paying a visit to a king.

“It’s your home,” Lu Wenzhou had corrected her. “A princess returning to her palace—what’s wrong with that?”

Only then did Jiang Wan learn that he had purchased the villa after they began their relationship. So as not to delay her commute, he drove her every day, even after she earned her driver’s license. As long as Lu Wenzhou was present, he never let her touch the steering wheel.

Winters in England were often snowy. When she wasn’t at school, her favorite pastime was standing by the window near the fireplace, watching the snowflakes drift down outside. Lu Wenzhou would often come over with a shawl, and as he draped it over her from behind, he would wrap both the shawl and her into his embrace.

Sometimes, they would sit together in silence, and Jiang Wan felt perfectly content. But he was never satisfied for long. He would hold her closer, his chin slipping down to her sensitive earlobe, brushing it with a gentle breath. His soft lips and disheveled hair would graze her, making her squirm with ticklish delight, but he kept her tightly in his arms until she melted into him.

When she complained of the cold, he would carry her to the plush rug by the fire. His sparkling, almond-shaped eyes reflected the flickering flames, and the elaborate ceiling swayed with his movements. Lu Wenzhou warmed her with his body, again and again, leaving traces of their passion in every corner of the villa.

Until one morning, Jiang Wan awoke to an eerie silence. The vast villa was devoid of any sound. The man who had decorated the Christmas tree with her the night before had vanished without a trace.

She could neither reach him nor find him. The world outside was shrouded in endless snow, falling day and night.

After waiting in the villa for two days, unable to contain her worry, she called the local police. But according to the rules, a missing person’s report could only be filed after seven days of no contact.

Jiang Wan could only try to comfort herself, searching the house for any clue Lu Wenzhou might have left behind. She scoured the entire villa, afraid she’d missed a note from him. But there was nothing.

She kept trying to contact Lu Wenzhou, but every message went unanswered, the string of unread notifications suffocating her.

After a week without eating or sleeping, the police finally opened a case. But the villa was so remote, with no neighbors for miles, no surveillance, and no leads. She was sent home to await further news.

Those days, Jiang Wan barely ate or drank, huddled in a blanket by the fireplace, waiting. Every minute felt like torture.

She didn’t recall the exact day, but eventually she tried calling Lu Wenzhou’s phone again. This time, a voice told her the number was no longer in service.

Her tightly wound nerves snapped. Her mind went blank. Without thinking, she leapt up, grabbed her car keys, and rushed outside, heedless of the snow-blocked roads. She just wanted to search for him.

But she didn’t know where to go; all she could see was a vast, blinding expanse of snow. Overwhelmed and lost, she broke down.

Her car slid on the icy road, skidding off the edge and plunging into the frozen lake.

When she came to, Jiang Wan was in a hospital. The medical staff told her she’d lost consciousness after the crash and had been trapped for an entire day before a snowplow crew found her. By then, the car was half-submerged in the ice. Had she been discovered any later, both she and the car would have sunk to the bottom, to freeze or drown.

But Jiang Wan had no time for details. She only wanted to know if anyone had come looking for her.

The nurse shook her head. Then, as if remembering something, she mentioned that Jiang Wan’s phone had rung many times. She had answered once, but the caller spoke a language she didn’t understand, so the call ended.

Jiang Wan nearly leapt out of bed in excitement. She found her phone and dialed back the number from China, thinking perhaps Lu Wenzhou had contacted her after returning home.

Instead, the police in Rong City answered: “Your father jumped to his death. You need to come back and handle his affairs.”

Jiang Wan could not believe what she was hearing. She asked again and again, finally confirming the identity of the deceased and that this was no scam.

Still in her hospital gown and barefoot, she dashed out of the hospital, running toward the villa to gather her things for the journey home.

On the way, the biting cold pierced her lungs and body, but she felt hollow inside.

The wind howled, echoing in her ears. Clad in thin clothing, Jiang Wan ran wildly through the snow, her limbs numb and unresponsive.

But when she reached the villa, the unfamiliar scene jarred her from reality—a row of fire engines lined the road. The once vibrant, palace-like villa was now a charred skeleton, gray smoke drifting above it. Everything had been reduced to ashes. The fire had just been put out.

Firefighters came to confirm her identity and inform her about the blaze, but Jiang Wan could hear none of it. She stood there, numb and expressionless, her appearance disheveled.

Only then did she realize that at the extreme edge of pain, one cannot cry.

She had lost everything. She could not hear their words, smell the smoke, see anything familiar, or feel the cold or pain in her limbs. Even the documents she needed to return home had been lost in the fire.

As the owner of the villa, she was not interrogated by the police. Jiang Wan had no energy to pursue the cause of the fire—her only thought was to return home.

She went through the consulate’s procedures in a daze, her once radiant self now dulled and lifeless. After a week’s delay, Jiang Wan finally boarded the flight home.

When she arrived in Rong City, her father had been lying in the hospital morgue for nearly ten days.

The staff lifted the sheet for her to confirm his identity. In that instant, Jiang Wan’s strength left her completely. She collapsed to the ground, and nearly two weeks of pent-up tears burst forth. Her anguished cries echoed through the silent morgue, tears streaming as her heart threatened to break open.

*

“President Jiang?”

The voice of Xia Nuan recalled Jiang Wan to the present, clearing her tear-blurred vision. Xia Nuan looked at her anxiously, handing her a tissue.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying all of a sudden…”

It was only then, under her friend’s concern, that Jiang Wan realized tears were silently streaming down her cheeks once more. She hurriedly took the tissue to wipe them away.

She was about to speak when her phone suddenly rang.