Volume One, Chapter Two: The White Moonlight of My Uncle

Carrying a mountain of debt, Su Qiuyu returned home. The moment she opened the door, a heavy stench of alcohol assaulted her senses.

She found her mother, drunk and slumped beside the toilet in the bathroom, and struggled to help her up.

Jiang Zifei was retching violently, and when she finally looked up at Su Qiuyu, her gaze was glazed. Years of drinking and smoking had aged Jiang Zifei rapidly, her features worn and haggard. Yet the distinct, sculpted angles of her mixed heritage still held her face together, sparing her from sagging cheeks or gaunt bones. Once proud and spirited, her expression had grown harsh, carved by years of volatile tempers.

Seeing Su Qiuyu’s face, Jiang Zifei frowned. “You’ve been beaten up!”

Su Qiuyu answered flatly, “I fell. Quite badly.”

Jiang Zifei hiccupped, bracing herself as she stood, then suddenly bent over and vomited again into the toilet.

Su Qiuyu reached for some tissues, but Jiang Zifei shoved her away, her eyes full of disgust. “Get lost!”

Pointing at Su Qiuyu, she sneered, “How old are you, still falling over? You did it on purpose! You just don’t want to go and settle my bill!”

Su Qiuyu’s gaze remained calm. “I’ve added the owner on my app. I’ve transferred the money.”

“Useless! What if they don’t acknowledge it?”

“There’s a transfer record.”

“You know nothing! How many times have I told you, always pay cash in person! You dare transfer by phone when no one’s there—dozens of yuan isn’t money to you?”

Su Qiuyu held out the tissues. “Wipe your mouth.”

Jiang Zifei swatted at her hand, but Su Qiuyu dodged deftly, untouched.

Compared to her mother’s violent outbursts, Su Qiuyu’s dark, deep-set eyes were always tranquil. She said softly, “What you’re saying makes no sense. No one would injure themselves like this just to avoid paying a few dozen yuan. You should drink less. Or you’ll lose even the most basic judgment.”

Jiang Zifei jabbed her finger toward the door. “Get out! Get out of here!”

Su Qiuyu turned to leave.

But Jiang Zifei followed, yelling after her, “That’s right! Your face is worth more than a few dozen yuan! That’s the only thing on you that’s worth anything. Maybe it’s for the best it got messed up! Saves you from going out to play the vixen, seducing everyone you meet!”

Su Qiuyu entered her room and closed the door. Jiang Zifei was still shouting outside, but soon she ran back to the bathroom to vomit again.

Su Qiuyu sat at her desk, staring blankly for a while, her clear eyes unfocused. After a long pause, she drew a deep breath and picked up a yellowed notebook of class notes and a recently completed test paper.

These notes dated back to her second year of high school. Her academic records had vanished with the erasure of her old identity, and she would have to earn them all over again.

That was why she had returned to Haicheng. Resources in small towns could never compare to those here, especially in education.

But the car she’d seen outside the police station had left her frightened and full of regret.

Zhuang Jian had only been with him, and there was no doubt who the man in the car was.

Four years had passed, and in the short half-month since her return to Haicheng, he, too, had come back to the country.

Shaking off her wandering thoughts, Su Qiuyu began grading her test.

She checked each answer against the key points in her notes, jotting remarks beside each question. Just as she reached an essay problem, her phone rang.

It was a local Haicheng number she didn’t recognize.

She kept writing as she answered, her pen gliding smoothly across the page.

“Hello, is this Ms. Su Xiaowu?”

A man’s rich, deep voice came from the other end, distant yet polite.

The sound struck Su Qiuyu like a jolt of electricity. Her pen froze mid-stroke, her whole body tingling, breath caught in her chest.

She had expected a call from one of her part-time gigs, an agency, or perhaps a creditor seeking payment for one of Jiang Zifei’s debts.

But the voice in her ear was clearer than any of the old recordings she’d saved.

It was more mature now, deeper and more magnetic.

She’d heard he’d developed a heavy smoking habit in recent years—was it because of that?

After ten seconds of silence, Gu Moting’s brow furrowed slightly. “Hello?”

“Beep!” The call ended.

Su Qiuyu put down her phone, suddenly remembering how to breathe. She gasped for air, her mind buzzing.

Not long after, her phone rang again.

Su Qiuyu quickly declined the call.

After a moment, she typed a message: “Hello, who is this? I can’t take calls right now.”

Gu Moting replied almost instantly: “Hello, Ms. Su Xiaowu. My surname is Gu. The young girl who offended you on the street today is my niece. I sincerely apologize for her behavior. I’m calling regarding compensation. The police said you were injured and some of your valuable belongings were damaged. Whatever the amount, we’re willing to pay double.”

His message was formal and proper, as if written by a refined gentleman who kept his distance.

Yet “gentleman” was not a word that would ever have described the wild, volatile youth of years past.

Such was life—time truly was a masterful sculptor.

Su Qiuyu read the message again, then smiled, letting go. Perhaps this was what it meant to leave the past behind.

Her eyes fell on his last sentence.

He had asked, “Whatever the amount.”

Su Qiuyu whispered, “It’s thirty thousand.”

Yet how could she accept the money?

Her record had been wiped from the household registry; she was now called Su Xiaowu.

But in the major banks and the big online payment networks, some hidden data still tied her to the name Su Qiuyu.

Her new accounts, with identical facial recognition to her old ones, had been flagged as sensitive by the banking system, repeatedly locked and shut down by anti-fraud centers.

Not just the banks—the phone company had also flagged her number as abnormal, suspending her service several times because real-name verification failed.

She’d had to call in favors from her father’s old superiors just to unfreeze her accounts. Even now, she wasn’t sure if they were still under surveillance.

Sitting in silence, Su Qiuyu couldn’t think of a solution.

She bent her head and went back to grading.

After finishing the three test papers from that morning, she picked up her phone and messaged her best friend for help.

She had to get that thirty thousand. The fault wasn’t hers—she wouldn’t take the loss.

*

Yundu Shanhai was Haicheng’s newest seaside villa district—a flat, open expanse with south-facing views of the ocean.

A dinner in the southern part of the city had been canceled by his oldest brother, so Gu Moting changed his route and returned home.

He’d only just taken over Fengtin after returning to the country, and on purpose, he’d thrown the company into chaos. Now he faced a mountain of work every day.

His phone buzzed several times, but none of the messages were from Su Xiaowu.

Lighting a cigarette, Gu Moting took a deep drag, his long, well-defined fingers tapping the ash absently.

He’d heard that Su Xiaowu had been badly beaten by the crowd, then dragged to the police station in utter humiliation.

Anyone who suffered such unjust misfortune would hardly want to speak to the family of the “culprit.”

A gentle knock sounded at the door. Gu Moting glanced up but said nothing, extinguishing the barely-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.

A few seconds later, the study door opened, and a small head peeked in, eyes wide and timid.

“Uncle,” Xiaotao called quietly.

Even in casual clothes at home, Gu Moting’s presence was intense and imposing.

Lounging lazily on the sofa, he said, “Finished copying?”

“My hands hurt.”

Xiaotao stretched out her chubby hands. “Uncle, I know I was wrong. Please forgive me this once, okay?”

“No.”

“But before, you always said you’d forgive me.”

Gu Moting looked at her, his voice cold and hard. “No one was ever hurt before, so I let it go. But now, because of you, Su Xiaowu was badly beaten.”

Xiaotao pouted, “I didn’t think those people would be so rough. When I saw that beautiful lady getting hit, I felt bad too.”

“They weren’t rough—they were just eager to help. But you took advantage of their kindness.”

Ashamed, Xiaotao lowered her head. “I really do know I was wrong, Uncle.”

Gu Moting turned back to his documents, flipping a page. “Then keep copying. You have to accept punishment for your mistakes.”

With a soft sigh, Xiaotao closed the door and left quietly.

Gu Moting glanced at his phone again. Still no reply from Su Xiaowu.

*

Leaving the study, Xiaotao closed the door gently behind her, her mood glum as she looked up at the young woman standing nearby.

Shao Shanshan wore a pale yellow designer skirt suit, her makeup impeccable, her demeanor graceful and gentle.

She crouched down, speaking softly, “If your uncle won’t forgive you, there’s nothing to be done. But you were brave to ask.”

Xiaotao’s voice was plaintive. “Su Xiaowu can blame me, but why does Uncle have to as well? I was just trying to help him find his lost love!”

Shao Shanshan’s smile faltered slightly as she pinched Xiaotao’s round cheek. “You’re too young to be talking about lost loves. Where did you even learn that phrase?”

“Because it sounds so pretty. Moonlight is beautiful, after all.”

Thinking of Su Qiuyu’s face, Shao Shanshan’s smile stiffened again.

“It’s just all right. Not that beautiful.”

Xiaotao tilted her head. “You mean moonlight isn’t beautiful?”

“No, moonlight is lovely.”

“So you’re saying my uncle’s lost love isn’t that pretty?”

Shao Shanshan just smiled.

“No,” Xiaotao said seriously. “She’s really pretty. I saw her photo, she was gorgeous.”

Shao Shanshan’s smile grew sly. “You don’t even know her name, and you can’t remember what the photo looked like, but you still think she’s beautiful?”

Xiaotao looked embarrassed. “That’s because you guys never told me her name, and I was so little back then. But I remember how stunning she was the moment I saw her—it made my heart flutter!”

Shao Shanshan gave a dry laugh, her voice suddenly cold. “So what if she was stunning? No matter how beautiful, she was still burned to ashes.”

“Ashes? Burned to ashes?”

Shao Shanshan glanced at the tightly closed study door, her smile gentling again. “Just like your mother—they’re both dead.”