He is Lovestruck in the Revenge

April in the capital city, where the Chinese scholar trees bloom profusely and the loquat trees are bent with the weight of their fruit.

The temperature had dropped a bit these past few days, transitioning from warm to cold again.

"Changling."

It was Sister Tao, the owner of the fruit shop, standing at the doorstep, waving at Wen Changling.

"Come and have some loquats."

It was loquat season, and Sister Tao had picked a basketful that morning.

Wen Changling crossed the street and entered the fruit shop.

She worked in a hospice ward and usually kept irregular hours, often out early and returning late, her days and nights reversed. She wasn't fond of socializing either. Having moved to Lotus Pond Street just over half a year ago, she was only a little familiar with Sister Tao from the fruit shop, and that was because last month Sister Tao's son had a high fever. Wen Changling just happened to be on duty at the hospital and had lent a helping hand; that's how they became acquainted. Sister Tao was a kind-hearted woman grateful for Wen Changling's help and would always call her over to share any tasty treat she had.

Lotus Pond Street was an old street pending demolition, very narrow, with outdated facilities. Government officials had come by several times, each time saying it would be demolished, but each time nothing came of it. According to the neighbors, Lotus Pond Street was filled with old courtyards and alleys inhabited mostly by locals. There were many traditional houses with multiple courtyards, which were usually too expensive for most people to demolish.

Wen Changling sat on a small stool by the door, peeling loquats, the setting sun falling on her face, the breeze lifting the hair by her left ear, revealing a segment of a transparent hearing aid, a behind-the-ear model, disguised by her hair and not very noticeable.

"What are you looking at?" asked Sister Tao.

Wen Changling tilted her head up, looking at the newly opened pawnshop across the street—Ruyi Pawnshop.

Sister Tao said, "That pawnshop's been open for over half a month and hasn't seen a single customer. It's likely just a rich family's hobby, not really run like a proper shop. It's been open so long and we've yet to see the owner's face."

These days, seeing a pawnshop was a rare sight.

Wen Changling also hadn't seen the pawnshop's owner, and her only impression of the owner was that the business wasn't doing well and he wasn't enthusiastic about running the shop.

She adjusted the thick glasses on her nose bridge and swept back her bangs to cover half her face.

After finishing the loquats, she stood up and headed home.

Her rented room was right next to Ruyi Pawnshop, and the landlord was an elderly lady who lived alone. The landlady's surname was Zhu, and her husband had passed away earlier that year. She had only one daughter who worked at a bank.

Granny Zhu's daughter was divorced and occasionally sent her child over for a short stay. The house was a two-entry structure that had been renovated the year before last. Granny Zhu lived at the front, where she also ran a watch shop, and to the right of the shop, a small door opened, through which Wen Changling lived in the back. The door led straight through a corridor to the backyard. Granny Zhu, being elderly and not good with her legs and incapable of bending over, couldn't take care of the yard, which Wen Changling looked after. She planted seasonal vegetables and even transplanted a Hooked Cymbidium, which she thought would not survive. Surprisingly, it grew well, and its wildly spreading vines climbed up the Sweet Osmanthus Tree, crossed the wall, and crept into the neighboring yard.

The neighboring property was Ruyi Pawnshop.

According to Granny Zhu, the pawnshop's owner had paid three times the market price in cash to purchase the neighboring property. Sister Tao from the fruit shop guessed correctly: the owner was someone from a wealthy family, which explained his lack of enthusiasm for running the business.

Oh, and Hooked Cymbidium had another name, Broken Heart Grass.

Broken Heart Grass was toxic in its entirety, especially the young leaves, which were highly poisonous.

****

The hospital where Wen Changling worked was called Dihong Hospital, and her department fell under oncology. The oncology department's palliative ward was what people commonly referred to as a hospice ward.

Those transferred to the palliative ward were individuals whose names Yama, the King of Hell, had already written down, with one foot in the coffin, making treatment essentially pointless. The primary focus was to alleviate the pain for the patients.

Old Mr. Gu was a prestigious figure in the literary world, suffering from lung cancer, and had already been in the hospice ward for over a month. These past few days, Old Mr. Gu's condition had been rather good, but it was just a brief rally. It was probably a matter of days now, and the old gentleman wished to go home. His attending physician, Director Wan, had already approved it, arranging for two doctors and two nurses to accompany him.

Wen Changling was one of them.

Just as the hospital's car arrived outside the Gu Family home, Doctor Qiao, who was accompanying them, cautioned, "After we go in, don't look around. Just grab your things and follow."

The Gu Family was no ordinary household; such a place had many rules.

Doctor Qiao and Doctor Zhong wheeled Old Mr. Gu inside first, while Wen Changling and her colleague Jiahui followed with the medical kit. The sky was overcast, and a fine rain fell continuously, thankfully they had umbrellas from the car.

"This rain came out of nowhere, it was sunny this morning."

That's April in the capital city for you, alternating between sudden sunshine and rain, so capricious.

Upon entering through the gates of the Gu Family's residence, what first caught the eye was a rockery with flowing water, a pond full of koi and lotuses. It was Jiahui's first time in such a place, and she couldn't help but look around, her steps involuntarily slowing down.