After gathering what he needed, he quickly descended again but suddenly stopped at the corner, addressing Abigail, who was preparing to go to the basement: “I just noticed a stain on the office floor.
Don’t you have enough hands? Why not send someone to clean it up?” He could distinguish her piano playing; the sound was robust, certainly not produced by someone weak in body or spirit. Yet Abigail claimed she was ill, which was clearly an excuse.
“I’m sorry, General, I’ll send someone to clean it right away.” Abigail, not catching the implication in his words, crossed her arms and replied somewhat awkwardly.
The corner of his eye twitched, and he didn’t press further. He quickly passed by Abigail, pushed open the large door, and stepped outside, where a car was waiting for him. He had no time to waste on this foolish woman.
In recent days, Nhanyi’s mood had lightened because besides waking up every morning to admire that pot of white flowers through the iron bars of the window and smelling its fragrance, she also enjoyed chatting with the little gardener Charles in the flower garden. Another source of joy was cleaning the study and polishing the piano, where she could play a piece spontaneously.
Abigail did not stop her from playing; she thought she was hiding it well, that no one heard her secretly playing, but that was not the case. Whenever the piano music started, everyone would pause their work and quietly listen to the flowing notes that poured from the keys, the melody of the piece was melodious.
Of course, only the player knew that this was a piano adaptation of a folk tune originally called “A Beautiful Jasmine Flower.” When she played with enthusiasm, she would even hum softly:
A beautiful jasmine flower,
A beautiful jasmine flower,
The whole garden fragrant,
No one can compare to it,
I wish to pick one to wear,
But I’m afraid of others’ ridicule,
A beautiful jasmine flower,
A beautiful jasmine flower,
The jasmine blooms,
Snow cannot be whiter than it,
I wish to pick one to wear,
But I’m afraid the flower watchers will scold me,
A beautiful jasmine flower,
A beautiful jasmine flower,
The whole garden blooms,
No one can surpass it,
I wish to pick one to wear,
But I’m afraid it won’t sprout next year.
For several consecutive days, if he happened to return home before ten in the evening, he would hear this tune.
That day, he was in an unusually good mood because the commander had clearly indicated that he would soon be promoted to the rank of general. The piano music continued, and he paused outside the study door, not removing his white gloves, gently resting his hand on the door.
This piece he had listened to several times over the past few days, each time evoking different emotions—sometimes sorrowful, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes bitter.
Today, her playing was so lively, perhaps because he was in a good mood; the notes seemed to bloom like a delicate white flower, and he could almost smell its fresh fragrance.
He applied even pressure with his palm and slowly pushed open the heavy wooden door, which felt as if it required great strength to open. Finally, he stepped inside, and what met his icy blue eyes was her back, dressed in a gray work uniform tied with a dust-covered apron.
Her black hair was tied in a ponytail, cascading smoothly down her back. Her shoulders were so frail, her neck slender, yet her back was straight, her delicate shoulders gently trembling with her long arms.
This old piano belonged to his grandmother. He could play it well, as it was one of the essential subjects from childhood, but he had never realized that a piano could have a soul. Each time her crystalline fingertips touched the keys, the piano seemed to respond to her, returning with clear and enchanting sounds.
She was so fragile yet so resilient. If she were a man, she might become a formidable opponent he would have to crush in its infancy. However, she was a woman, and despite his brutality towards her, he had not destroyed her will. What kind of woman was she?
She had no particular beliefs or convictions, yet she could be so strong. He was filled with curiosity, unconsciously drawn to her, stepping closer and closer.
