Chapter 46: The Iris Beauty
Gu Qingxu had originally come out to grab something, but he just happened to run into Xiao Huang, who was hurrying downstairs with the cat in her arms.
“It’s so late—why are you in such a rush?”
He rarely paid attention to this ragdoll cat and its caretaker. For some reason, the cat simply refused to get close to him at all.
But Xiao Huang looked so suspicious that if he didn’t recognize her face, he might have already called security.
“The young master’s tutor is here. I’ll just… avoid them,” Xiao Huang said with an awkward laugh, then repeated herself, “Yeah, avoid them.”
A hint of scrutiny flashed across Gu Qingxu’s face.
He pressed further, “It’s just a tutor. What’s there to avoid? What are they doing in there?”
“N-no, nothing! What else could they be doing? Studying, of course.” Xiao Huang tried very hard to cover things up, not wanting anyone to find out what she had seen last time.
But she was just a simple cat nanny who had gone straight into working at the Gu household after graduation, never having dealt with workplace scheming. The more she tried to explain, the worse it sounded.
Gu Qingxu didn’t know what he had thought of, but he let out a cold laugh. “Good. Very good. So my words mean nothing to you, huh?”
He waved his hand, and Xiao Huang quickly took the hint and ran off with the cat.
Gu Qingxu glanced upstairs several times, but in the end, he suppressed his anger and stomped downstairs.
—
Because it was winter, the windows in the room were tightly shut. With the floor heating on, the indoor temperature stayed comfortably warm.
A few pale purple flowers were placed in a narrow-necked glass bottle on the desk, releasing a faint, waxy fragrance into the air.
“What flower is this?” Song Yinxing asked instinctively.
“Iris.”
That explained why it felt familiar to him.
In his previous life, shortly after Gu Yang’s death, a perfume company under the Gu family released a fragrance called Iris Beauty.
The perfume must have been approved long ago, so even though the Gu family was still in chaos, it didn’t stop the launch.
It was a classic chypre fragrance, using oakmoss as the fixative. The overall tone was gloomy, like being shrouded in damp shadows. After the middle notes unfolded, the rich iris scent emerged, transitioning into something moist and soft.
Song Yinxing had once smelled it while running errands at a mall. At the time, he felt nothing. But now, thinking back, he realized that the impression of that scent overlapped eerily with Gu Yang.
Gu Yang held a pen. Whether he was actually focused or not, his gaze remained fixed on the book below.
The warm, soft lighting fell over him, making the skin at the back of his neck look especially pale and delicate. Perhaps because the windows were closed and the air wasn’t circulating, the tips of his ears carried a faint blush. The skin there was so thin that one could almost see the veins beneath.
Song Yinxing watched him like this. The moment Gu Yang’s eyelashes trembled, it felt as though his own heart trembled along with them.
He had always wondered why Gu Yang showed him kindness for no reason.
Was it because he had looked too miserable back then?
Then why did he keep approaching him again and again afterward?
Did he pity him?
But there were so many pitiful people in the world—did his suffering really rank among them?
When he was younger, Song Yinxing once believed he was the most unfortunate person in the world.
What should an ordinary high school life look like?
He should have entered the best high school in the city through his own hard work.
It was a bit far from his home, so to save time, he would stay in the dormitory and go home once every week or two.
His parents would give him a monthly allowance—not much, but enough to cover his meals and leave a little extra. On weekends when he didn’t go home, he could occasionally eat out with close classmates.
Of course, most of his energy would go into studying. He would focus wholeheartedly, striving for a bright future.
But all of that turned to ashes the moment he entered Guanli High School.
He had to take care of his sick mother and his immature younger brother. He had to keep his grades at the top to earn scholarships to support the family. He constantly had to worry that his scumbag father might suddenly appear and destroy the fragile balance he had worked so hard to maintain.
And later, there was Nie Ying’s suffocating oppression.
Sometimes, when he was utterly exhausted, surrounded by the smell of disinfectant, listening to the constant beeping of machines while the attending doctor explained the next treatment plan and its cost…
He would look back at his mother lying in the hospital bed, and resentment he shouldn’t feel would arise in his heart.
If his life was destined to be like this, why had he been brought into this world?
But all of that pain ended abruptly the day he missed the college entrance exam, and his mother pulled out her oxygen tube and passed away.
What followed was an even deeper, more endless darkness.
So he wasn’t the most unfortunate child in the world after all.
His suffering could go even further.
The violent surge of emotions caused a ringing in his ears.
This was a condition he had developed after dropping out—partly physical, partly psychological.
The persistent tinnitus made him feel disoriented. He couldn’t help but wonder if everything he saw after being reborn was just a dream—a dream he used to deceive himself.
With a snap, Gu Yang tossed his pen aside. After staring at it for so long, he lazily concluded, “I can’t solve a single question.”
He turned to look at Song Yinxing, thinking of acting cute to end the session early.
Only then did he notice something was wrong.
He couldn’t interpret that expression, but he could tell Song Yinxing’s face was frighteningly pale.
Just as he was about to ask, Song Yinxing suddenly hugged him—
Like a drowning person grabbing onto a piece of driftwood before sinking.
This person, whom he had never encountered in his previous life but now had crossed paths with, became an anchor that helped him distinguish reality from illusion. The ringing in his ears gradually faded.
Gu Yang froze, clearly caught off guard by the hug.
The degree of physical closeness often determines the closeness of a relationship.
Being held like this, he could feel the other person’s warmth. From the point of contact, it seemed as though something inside him was slowly coming back to life.
In his gray world, a second piece of the puzzle lit up.
His soul seemed split into two parts—one responding to Song Yinxing, the other watching everything indifferently.
Tentatively, cautiously, he reached out and touched Song Yinxing’s hair, just like when he was little and had fallen badly, crying as he threw himself into a woman’s arms.
There was nothing ambiguous about this hug.
It was more like two wounded animals trying to lick each other’s wounds.
Song Yinxing closed his eyes.
He wondered—was Gu Yang hugging him, or the eighteen-year-old version of him pieced together from Gu Yang’s own observations and others’ descriptions?
There seemed to be no difference.
But the human heart is never satisfied.
When his family hadn’t yet completely fallen apart, his mother once took him to a local museum.
At first glance, he saw a porcelain piece displayed behind glass.
Light shone up from below, illuminating its unparalleled craftsmanship. Electronic screens recorded every tiny fluctuation in temperature and humidity. If removed from that artificially maintained environment, it would inevitably be destroyed. It seemed its only purpose there was to display its beauty and fragility to the world.
He liked that porcelain very much.
But even then, he knew it was not something he could ever possess or take away.
Slowly, Song Yinxing released the hug. Realizing his loss of composure, he turned his face aside. “Let’s stop here for today.”
Gu Yang looked at him. In those moist eyes was a dazed, fragile expression. He leaned his head slightly against the wall, but his gaze never left.
The room felt warmer somehow, making blood vessels expand, a flush gradually spreading across his long, elegant neck.
Song Yinxing didn’t dare look any longer. After packing his things, he said goodbye and left.
After gently closing the door, he kept glancing back as he went downstairs.
When he reached the first floor, he didn’t expect to run into Gu Qingxu.
It was already late, yet Gu Qingxu wasn’t in his room—he was sitting in the living room.
“I didn’t expect you to come again,” he said calmly upon seeing Song Yinxing. “Seems like you really don’t take my words seriously.”
Song Yinxing hadn’t intended to respond, but somehow the words that came out were, “This is between me and him. It has nothing to do with you.”
That sounded almost like a provocation.
Gu Qingxu slowly took a deep breath. He felt that an intruder had entered his territory.
He looked at Song Yinxing. “You’ll regret saying that.”
Song Yinxing frowned slightly. He knew he shouldn’t provoke Gu Qingxu—this person was the same kind as Nie Ying.
But at the same time, some things couldn’t be avoided just because he wanted to.
This time, he had to make a decision about his own fate.
—
The next day, Gu Qingxu visited the Nie family.
Nie Ying hadn’t been to school for a long time, so he went personally.
After all, they were still just high school students—visiting each other wouldn’t be interpreted as anything significant.
Nie Ying looked much better now. Nie Runhua’s troubles in the company hadn’t really affected him, since his quality of life hadn’t changed.
But that didn’t mean he had gotten over being “the nanny’s son.” That fact had planted a deep thorn in his heart, ready to explode at any moment.
When he saw Gu Qingxu arrive, his expression was a bit strange.
But Gu Qingxu seemed no different than usual. He even brought a gift and casually asked about his recent situation.
Nie Ying relaxed.
He had thought that hiring thugs to trouble Gu Yang had been discovered, and that Gu Qingxu had come to confront him.
But on second thought, Gu Qingxu wouldn’t bother with something so trivial.
Right now, the biggest trigger for him was anyone mentioning the nanny.
Gu Yang had not only mentioned it, but repeatedly shoved it in his face.
He had only wanted to teach Gu Yang a small lesson.
Unfortunately, those thugs were useless—not only did they fail, they alerted the situation. Security patrols had even increased at the school gates.
But there was no use dwelling on it now. These days, he had seen enough of human nature. Some people he used to get along with had refused his invitations.
His social circle had dropped in status. Being surrounded by people from less prestigious backgrounds who constantly flattered him was boring.
As they walked down the corridor, they ran into Madam Nie and her younger sister.
Madam Nie remained cold and silent, while his nominal aunt smiled politely.
But Nie Ying’s face darkened instantly. He grabbed Gu Qingxu and walked away quickly without even greeting them.
“Why the rush?” Gu Qingxu teased with a smile.
Nie Ying’s expression grew darker. He didn’t believe Gu Qingxu hadn’t heard the rumors.
“What else would that woman be doing here? She’s here to discuss divorce, isn’t she?”
Gu Qingxu raised an eyebrow, thinking that the rumors he’d heard were indeed true.
“She messed up our whole family and now just leaves like nothing happened. How carefree,” Nie Ying sneered, though his expression still carried unwillingness. “How can a woman be so heartless?”
Gu Qingxu simply smiled, admiring the ink painting on the wall without replying.
Even biological parents might lack affection—let alone someone else’s child.
Fu Rumei watched her nephew’s departing figure and sighed, “Why go this far? The child is innocent after all.”
Madam Nie said calmly, “That man’s child is just like him. Nothing innocent about it.”
Fu Rumei shook her head helplessly. As an outsider, she couldn’t say more, so she handed over the documents.
“Fortunately, there was a prenuptial agreement, so the property division isn’t too complicated. The main issue is shares, real estate, and cash—those will take time to sort out.”
“But are you really okay?” she added with concern. “Mom and Dad think you should go home first. It’s not very convenient staying here…”
“I’m fine. It’s easier to handle things here,” Madam Nie replied. “Besides, they respect me more now than before.”
Fu Rumei glanced at her sister. Ever since that public fallout, there was a calm madness about her that made people keep their distance.
A servant approached. “Madam, someone is here to see you.”
“Who?”
The servant hesitated, then leaned in and whispered, “The person you mentioned before.”
Madam Nie understood and told them to bring her in.
Fu Rumei looked curious.
Madam Nie said calmly, “The biological mother of that ‘innocent child’ you mentioned.”
Fu Rumei was shocked. “Sis, what are you thinking? This isn’t a good idea.”
Madam Nie simply said it was fine.
Soon, a woman walked in—aged and worn, but neatly dressed, her silver hair combed carefully.
Madam Nie looked at her, emotions complicated, a faint mocking smile on her lips.
That man really had no standards.
Then suddenly, she slapped herself.
Staying in this place too long had driven her mad—blaming this woman instead of the real culprit.
Fu Rumei watched in alarm.
The woman, thinking it was a show of intimidation, lowered her head nervously.
As if nothing had happened, Madam Nie said calmly, “Speak.”
The woman hesitated. “I heard about what happened recently… Since the child already knows who his biological mother is, I was wondering… could I meet him?”
She had carried him for ten months. The process had been so difficult. They said mother and child were connected—after learning the truth had come out, she couldn’t suppress her longing.
Originally, she couldn’t acknowledge him. But now that everything was exposed—and it wasn’t her fault—she selfishly hoped to reunite.
Madam Nie nodded. “Of course. I can arrange for you to meet him right now.”
The woman was stunned at how smoothly it went.
“Thank you so much, Madam… after all, you raised him…”
“No need. I don’t have this child,” Madam Nie interrupted. “He’s at home now. I’ll take you there.”
—
In Nie Ying’s room, Gu Qingxu was subtly trying to steer the conversation toward Song Yinxing, hoping to redirect Nie Ying’s resentment.
Meanwhile, Nie Ying was busy thinking about the new young master of the Lu family who had ruined his plan last time.
They chatted idly until the door opened.
Madam Nie walked in.
Nie Ying’s eyes flickered, then turned cold again.
But Madam Nie seemed in a good mood. Smiling, she gestured for someone behind her to step forward.
“A Ying,” she said, “this is your biological mother. She came to see you today. Why don’t you come and call her ‘Mom’?”
Nie Ying’s mind exploded.
He stared at the aged woman in disbelief, gritting his teeth as he glared at Madam Nie. “What are you talking about? There must be some mistake!”
Madam Nie looked at him—the child she had raised, now looking at her like an enemy. Her smile was both gentle and cold, each word piercing his heart.
“How could there be a mistake? This was our former nanny. She is indeed your biological mother.”
The woman lifted her head, looking at her child with cautious warmth and maternal love.
It was the gaze Nie Ying had always longed for.
But now, it felt like falling straight into hell.
