The night’s rain curtain hung heavy and dim, the yellow glow of the streetlamps spilling down, the light giving shape to the drizzling rain.
A black Bentley was parked on the street in the distance.
The umbrella handle pressed against her shoulder, Jian Nian lifted her head, and through the umbrella’s edge, made out the man standing not far away in the rain.
There was a moment of disorientation.
It felt like not long ago it had been just like this too—her sitting at the entrance of some old apartment building, waiting, glancing at a message on her phone, looking up, and without any warning, seeing a boy standing before her, carelessly dressed in a windbreaker.
But the person in front of her now didn’t look like him.
Dressed sharply in a suit, carrying a faint, cold severity, he looked mature—and unfamiliar.
Apart from that single sound just now, he made no further noise, just stood quietly in the rain, watching her.
His pitch-black eyes betrayed no readable emotion, gaze dim and heavy, and through the curtain of rain, it felt as though he were scrutinizing her inch by inch. It made her a little uncomfortable.
…Seven years apart, and he had nothing he wanted to say?
No, that wasn’t right.
They had already broken up long ago. There was no relationship between them anymore.
And as far as he was concerned, she had already died long ago. Seeing her now was probably like seeing a ghost—not running off in fright was already something. No wonder he just stood there at a distance, scrutinizing her.
Jian Nian pressed her lips together, not wanting to deal with him, and tilted the umbrella’s edge down, blocking her own face. Cutting off that line of sight.
Her stomach was so hungry. She’d been running around all day, and had only had a bun that morning.
Jian Nian rummaged through her bag and pulled out a plastic bag—inside, wrapped in oiled paper, was a flower-filled pastry that Yu Qingqing had stuffed in there.
She set the oiled paper packet on her lap, pulled out a tissue, picked up one of the flower pastries, and took a bite.
Rose filling, with what seemed like a hint of lily too. It was the only dish Yu Qingqing could actually make well—supposedly her grandfather used to make it for her often when she was little.
In the curtain of rain, footsteps slowly drew closer, coming to a stop right in front of her.
Jian Nian took another bite of the flower pastry, chewing away, and took a moment to lift the umbrella’s edge and glance up.
The man before her lowered himself onto one knee, meeting her eyes at the same level, his dark, heavy gaze fixed steadily on her.
He didn’t speak either, just stared at her.
The rain kept falling. A long while passed like this.
Jian Nian’s scalp started to prickle a little from being watched, and her chewing slowed.
The girl before him sat on the curb, the red umbrella above her head catching a bit of the streetlamp’s glow, dim and hazy, casting light on her face, like a dream veiled in mist. · Black Lotus novel Novel Translation Site — BLACK LOTUS NOVEL
Her amber eyes looked at him, a flower pastry still between her teeth, and as if she finally couldn’t hold it in anymore, she spoke, muffled.
“…What do you want?”
Hearing her voice, he finally reacted.
Slowly, sluggishly, he raised his hand.
Fingertips drawing close to her face.
The red string on the girl’s wrist swayed suddenly, the silver moon catching the streetlamp’s light, flashing for an instant.
She leaned her body back, dodging his hand.
Rain fell on his face, as if waking him from a dream—he came to his senses, and his fingers abruptly withdrew.
He slowly lifted his eyes, meeting the girl’s gaze. Those eyes, always calm and still, showed a flicker of emotion for the first time—widening slightly, as if in disbelief.
Jian Nian truly couldn’t believe it either.
She released the pastry from her mouth and looked down at the half-eaten flower pastry in her hand.
…She was already in this state, and he still wanted to snatch her food?
Jian Nian lifted her eyes again, looking at the man before her—this time, examining him carefully.
He hadn’t brought an umbrella, just letting himself get soaked in the rain, his black hair dripping wet, his whole being carrying a pale, gloomy, fragile air. His deep black eyes just stared at her like this, like some small abandoned animal left drenched by the roadside on a rainy night.
…He did look a bit down on his luck.
She hadn’t expected that seven years later he’d be doing this badly.
There were still three flower pastries left in the oiled paper packet. Jian Nian hesitated for a moment, then slowly held out the packet. “I can only give you two.”
She really was hungry. For the sake of how he used to take care of her before, she’d give him half at most.
The man before her didn’t take it though, just kept his black eyes fixed on her without blinking.
The rain kept falling, even seeming to grow heavier. The pattering raindrops struck the umbrella in a steady string.
Jian Nian set the oiled paper packet back on her lap, propped the umbrella up to cover him instead, and spoke, puzzled.
“Lu Zhun?”
This time the man before her finally reacted. He spoke slowly, his voice very soft.
“Is this what you usually eat?”
Jian Nian stuffed the remaining half of the flower pastry into her mouth, twisted open the half-full bottle of mineral water and took a sip, speaking indistinctly.
“Not really. This is hard to make, so I only get to eat it once in a while. Usually I just eat stir-fried dishes, noodles, that kind of thing.”
“…”
The night deepened and grew colder. A gust of wind blew past, carrying rain against her skin.
Jian Nian suddenly sneezed, her body shivering.
The man stood up and said gently, “Come back with me first.”
Jian Nian paused, looking slightly away, and said slowly, “No need. I have a place to stay.”
In the distance, the black Bentley started moving, driving over this way.
The man’s black eyes looked at her, his voice mild. “The people you’re looking for aren’t in Huai City anymore. It’s too late—it’s not safe for you to stay in a hotel alone.”
Jian Nian felt a bit confused. How did he know those relatives weren’t there anymore?
And he knew she was looking for them?
Thinking this, she asked aloud.
The other’s dark, heavy eyes stared at her for a moment, and he asked calmly, “Jian Nian, do you think I just happened to be passing by here?” black lotus novel Novel Reading · Black Lotus
This area was an old, abandoned residential district, the road empty and desolate, no passersby around.
Jian Nian: “…”
Why did it feel like seven years later he was even more infuriating?
Jian Nian bit down hard on her flower pastry. But if he hadn’t just happened to be passing by, and he even knew she was looking for her relatives, then that meant… he’d been looking for her.
…Just because of that phone call last night?
But normally, if a person got a call from someone who’d been dead for seven years, shouldn’t they be scared? Why was he so calm, and even came looking for her.
While she was thinking this over, the black Bentley in the distance had already pulled up, stopping beside the two of them.
It was the same car she’d seen that morning on the bus, headed for Wu City.
…He’d gone to Wu City looking for her too?
The driver’s door opened, and an elite-looking man in his thirties stepped out, holding an umbrella, a mild smile on his face.
“Miss Jian.”
Xu He greeted her politely, then walked around to open the back door. “Please.”
The nearby street was desolate, no people, no cars—if she went off on her own to find some shady inn, she might run into ill-intentioned people again. Given the current situation, going back with him really was the best option.
Jian Nian pressed her lips together, decided not to fight herself on it, gathered up her bag, and stood up with the umbrella.
Her ankle hurt badly. Jian Nian bore through the pain and slowly got into the car.
Inside the car hung a faint scent of white plum blossom, the lighting dim. The man got in from the other side and sat down.
Seeing both of them in the car, Xu He also closed his umbrella and got into the driver’s seat.
As he started the engine, he glanced up briefly at the rearview mirror.
The man had been standing in the rain for a long time, his clothes soaked through, dark patches showing on his suit, water still dripping from the ends of his hair.
Having been by Lu Zhun’s side for years now, this was the first time Xu He had seen him this crazy… well, he mentally swapped in a more tactful term for his boss—this unsettled.
Today’s schedule could only be described as bizarre—first thing in the morning, out of nowhere, checking the landline of some phone booth, then rushing from Huai City to Wu City to pull the entire city’s surveillance footage, and then… finally finding a girl.
Xu He’s gaze shifted slightly, landing on the young girl in the back seat.
It was the one he’d seen by the roadside in Wu City last night while passing by. Back then he’d also noticed Lu Zhun staring at her.
He hadn’t expected that just one night later, he’d have found some way to bring her back into the car.
Hmm… maybe this was love at first sight?
That kind of thing wasn’t rare in their circles. Xu He stayed composed.
Xu He drew his gaze back, hands on the wheel, and asked gently, “President Lu, where to?”
Normally there was no need to ask—it was always back to Xiyuan, where Lu Zhun stayed after work. But wasn’t there already a lady of the house living there for a few years now?
The man in the back seat said flatly.
“Xiyuan.”
Xu He’s composed expression froze for a second.
He stayed silent for two seconds, then asked again. “President Lu, do you mean the Xiyuan in Huaishui District?”
“Mm.”
Xu He: “…” · B L A C K L O T U S Novel
Xu He felt a bit thrown off too.
In all his years in this circle, he’d seen plenty of bosses who kept several women, but they always arranged separate residences. He’d never seen one keep them all together.
He tapped his fingers slowly on the steering wheel, calming himself down, trying to gather his thoughts.
Maybe he’d gotten tired of the previous one?
The black Bentley drove through the night streets, back into the brightly lit, bustling districts. The car was especially quiet, no one speaking, only the patter of rain.
Jian Nian sat in the back seat, head turned to look out the window. The car window reflected the man’s shadow, sitting leaned against his own window, a distance between them.
It felt somewhat familiar now, actually. Back when he used to drive her to and from school, it had been like this too—neither of them speaking, the whole way in silence.
For him, seven years had passed. But for Jian Nian, it had only been a short week.
Her memories still lingered at their last meeting—the damp, cramped stairwell, the boy carelessly dressed in a black T-shirt, carrying her up the stairs past the clutter, walking into the cramped little rented room.
She was a stranger to the Lu Zhun of now.
She’d always known very little about him—before, she’d only known he was a year older than her, an upperclassman at her school, who had a studio with some friends. Now she knew nothing at all.
Didn’t know what work he did now, where he lived, nothing.
This past week, waking up again, everything around her had been telling her seven years had passed, and she’d accepted it, yet had never quite felt it as real.
But the moment she saw him, she truly felt that seven years had really passed.
He wasn’t the same person as before.
The black Bentley drove into Xiyuan in Huaishui District. Jian Nian lifted her eyes, looking at the tranquil garden courtyard in the rain and the grand, opulent villa not far off, and froze for a moment.
…This was where he lived now?
The car stopped. Xu He in the driver’s seat unbuckled his seatbelt, got out, and held an umbrella as he walked around to open the door for Jian Nian.
“Miss Jian, we’ve arrived.”
Jian Nian got out of the car, and the moment her foot touched the ground she froze, then slowly straightened up.
The man beside her spoke. “Twisted your ankle?”
Jian Nian made a small sound of confirmation.
“Wait a moment,” he said gently.
After a while, a cleaning auntie came out from the garden courtyard, coming over to support her, walking her into the villa. “Miss Jian, be careful, take it slow.”
Xu He found it a bit odd—did something like this really need a housekeeper to handle?
But he kept firmly in mind the rules of the workplace—ask nothing extra—and kept his expression calm. “Then I’ll be heading off, President Lu.”
Jian Nian was startled for a moment too.
Being carefully supported by the auntie, she turned her head to glance at the man beside her, blending into the night, her gaze landing on his expressionless, cold profile.
She looked for a few seconds, said nothing, and turned her eyes away, sulking.
Once inside the villa, the auntie helped her sit down on the sofa.
The man called the family doctor, then came over carrying a medical kit, crouched down, and checked her ankle injury.
The bright, clear indoor lighting fell on the girl, showing her clearly. — BLACK LOTUS NOVEL Reading · Black Lotus Novel
Lu Zhun’s gaze settled on her.
Her hair hung messily behind her, a few strands stuck to her face, her complexion pale. Besides the sprained ankle, there was a scab forming on her knee, and faint blue-purple marks scattered across her pale, slender calves.
His eyes suddenly darkened.
He didn’t know how she’d come back, or how long she’d been living in Wu City—the surveillance had only turned up her riding alone on a bus into Huai City.
But he remembered that phone call from last night. Her voice muffled, as if choked with tears, saying quietly.
“…My husband at home always drinks, and hits me too. And the kid’s been crying nonstop.”
“…”
The ankle injury needed to be iced, and she couldn’t move around carelessly and risk spraining it again. The doctor wrapped it in bandages, gave her a pair of crutches, gave a few reminders, and then left the villa.
Only the two of them remained in the spacious living room.
Jian Nian glanced at him—he was still soaked through all over, eyes lowered, seemingly lost in thought about something.
She spoke up. “Aren’t you going to change your clothes?”
Lu Zhun lifted his eyes, his black gaze looking at her for a few seconds, and finally moved, getting up to change.
Jian Nian tried using the crutches, but they were too awkward, so she simply tossed them aside and hopped along, holding onto the edge of the sofa, making her way to the bathroom.
By the time she came out and was about to head back to the sofa, she happened to see the man standing in the doorway, a towel fallen by the sofa’s edge.
She asked, “Are you going out?”
Hearing her voice, the man suddenly paused, turned to look at her, water droplets still dripping from the ends of his hair.
“…” He seemed to let out a breath of relief, his black eyes settling calm again, and he walked back over, picking up the towel that had fallen to the floor, asking gently, “What do you want for dinner?”
Jian Nian instinctively wanted to rattle off dish names, but her gaze landed on the man dressed in cool gray loungewear, looking at his mature, cold profile, and she paused, saying slowly instead, “Anything’s fine.”
The man stared at her for two seconds. Said nothing, turned, and went to the kitchen.
Dinner was set on the table—all dishes she used to eat often before.
Jian Nian sat at the table, staring at the plate of preserved plum ribs, a bit distracted.
Her health had never been good; once when she’d been sick before, she hadn’t wanted to eat anything, no appetite, and he’d made this for her—sweet and sour, stewed until soft and tender.
Jian Nian glanced at the man across from her, his expression indifferent, eyelashes lowered slightly, hiding those unreadable, dark black eyes.
Sensing her gaze, he lifted his eyes, asking gently, “What’s wrong?”
“…Nothing.”
Jian Nian picked up a piece of rib and slowly took a bite, head lowered.
The taste was still the same as before, and yet somehow different too.
She really couldn’t figure out what he was thinking now. She had, after all, genuinely died seven years ago.
By rights he should be afraid of her—yet he’d stayed this calm the whole time, and had even brought her back home.
“It’s too late, and the other rooms still need tidying up, so you’ll sleep in this room for now.”
The auntie helped her upstairs, and the man set a change of clothes on the bed, his tone gentle. “I’ll be right outside. Call me if anything’s uncomfortable.”
Jian Nian slowly said “Oh,” murmuring, “Thank you.”
The man paused, then suddenly lifted his eyes.
Outside the window, rain pattered on, the cold white light casting a shadow beneath his eyes, those black eyes fixed on her without blinking.
Jian Nian met his gaze, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“…”
He was silent for a long while, then said, “Nothing.”
“Good night, get some rest.”
He closed the door and left, leaving Jian Nian alone, and the room fell quiet.
Wait… he didn’t ask a single question?
Shouldn’t he at least ask how she’d come back from the dead?
Though she didn’t know how she’d even answer that, his reaction to seeing someone who’d died seven years ago appear before him again was far too calm—even a little eerie.
…Could it be he really didn’t know she’d died seven years ago? That didn’t seem possible either.
Unable to make sense of it, Jian Nian rubbed her head and sat on the edge of the bed.
This room was clearly the bedroom he usually stayed in—the whole decor in cool gray tones, carrying a chilly, clean air. On the nightstand, a vase still held a few sprigs of white plum blossoms, their scent faint.
Jian Nian looked around the room, her gaze landing on the clothes on the bed. — B L A C K L O T U S Novel Translation Site · Black Lotus Novel
A pink-and-white nightgown, and when she picked it up, clean underwear too, in her size.
She’d been running around outside all day, back and forth, and Jian Nian was exhausted to the extreme.
Lying in the warm, soft bed, sinking into the faint, cool scent of the blanket, Jian Nian’s mind was still trying to sort through everything that had happened today, but her consciousness quickly slipped into unconsciousness.
“Rumble——”
Thunder crashed outside the window. Jian Nian was jolted awake, sitting up in a daze. Instinctively she looked toward the floor bedding for Yu Qingqing, and only upon catching the familiar cool scent did she register that this was his house.
The air conditioning in the room felt stuffy, and with the heavy rain outside, her skin felt damp and sticky, uncomfortable.
By the hazy light, Jian Nian felt her way along the wall to the window, wanting to open it for some air, but tugging at it twice, it wouldn’t budge.
The window was locked.
Never mind, might as well go get some water.
Jian Nian found the crutches, used them clumsily, opened the door, and slowly made her way out.
There was a small living room on the second floor too, connected to a viewing balcony, the rainy night dim beyond the massive glass panes.
After a few steps, a flash of white lit up outside the window, illuminating the room.
She suddenly noticed a dark shadow on the sofa beside her—the man was leaning against the sofa, the back of his hand resting over his eyes.
“Rumble——”
Thunder followed close behind.
The man lowered his hand, opened his eyes, and his black gaze happened to catch her stepping out.
In the darkness, those eyes seemed to turn cold in an instant, his gaze heavy.
He stared at her, asking flatly, “Where are you going?”
Jian Nian’s night vision wasn’t great; she couldn’t make out his expression clearly, only heard his voice.
“Thirsty,” she said. “Is there water?”
The air went quiet for a moment, and she vaguely saw the man rise from the sofa, footsteps rustling. “Close your eyes.”
Jian Nian closed her eyes.
“Click.” The light came on.
Jian Nian adjusted for a moment, then opened her eyes. The man was pouring water from a glass teapot, filling half a cup, and handed it to her.
“I saw you drink a lot of soup at dinner. Didn’t expect you’d still be thirsty,” he said.
“Mm.”
Jian Nian held the cup and took two sips, saying honestly, “It’s a bit salty.”
Lu Zhun: “…”
He leaned against the sofa, eyes half-lowered, his low voice a bit hoarse. “Sorry, it’s been too long since I made any.”
Jian Nian finished the water, feeling a little more alive, and let out a breath.
Her gaze landed on his face, and only now did she notice his complexion carried a sickly pallor. His voice sounded a bit hoarse too.
Jian Nian reached out to touch his forehead. “Are you sick…”
Before she could finish, the man suddenly turned his head aside, dodging her hand backward.
Jian Nian’s hand fell through empty air, stopping midair.
Jian Nian: “…”
She wasn’t a fool—of course she could tell that ever since they’d met again, he’d been avoiding her, avoiding any physical contact with her.
In the car, he’d leaned against the window, keeping his distance from her; when getting out of the car, going upstairs, he’d called the auntie over to support her instead.
Jian Nian pressed her lips together, withdrew her hand, and stepped back.
She didn’t want to deal with him anymore.
She picked up the crutches, turned to leave, but the crutch tip suddenly caught on the coffee table, and she was about to lose her balance and fall—
—her wrist was suddenly caught by cool, slender fingers.
The man, who had just been sitting at the other end of the sofa, reached out in time and caught her.
Supported by him, Jian Nian steadied herself.
Jian Nian let out a breath of relief, but realizing it was him holding her, felt an inexplicable irritation rise anyway, and pulled her hand back.
“I’m going back to sleep.”
It wouldn’t come free.
The man’s slender fingers had circled her wrist, and as she pulled back, instead of loosening, they tightened even more.
Around his wrist was a faded red string, mirroring the one on her own wrist, the colors pale and washed out.
A real, warm touch.
It didn’t fade away.
Jian Nian tugged hard several times without freeing her hand, turned around in confusion, her amber eyes looking at him.
Under the cold white light overhead, she saw him watching her with a strange look in his eyes—thick, heavy, yet very quiet, that gaze sweeping over her features inch by inch.
Jian Nian was a little stunned, and spoke slowly.
“Lu Zhun?”
“Crash——”
The glass on the coffee table was knocked down by the pink-and-white nightgown, shattering on the floor.
Thunder rumbled outside the window, rain pattering down.
Without any warning, the man before her yanked her wrist hard, pulling her tightly into his embrace.
