Chapter Thirty-One: Two Blossoms Unfurl

“Of course I mean it! If you don’t mind, you’re welcome to stay any time! I’m sure Uncle Chen, Aunt Du, and Chen Hao would all be glad to have you,” Gu Mengyan replied with great certainty. “And if you come, I’ll have an extra companion. We could share a room, and I wouldn’t have to squeeze in with Chen Hao anymore! Of course, if you’re not used to it and want a room to yourself, that’s perfectly fine too.”

“What? Your house is so big, but you and Chen Hao share a room?” Fan Yirou was quite curious. “You’re not even real siblings...”

“It’s nothing, really! Ever since I moved in at age four, we’ve always shared a room. Let me tell you a secret—my personality wasn’t always like this. Well... not exactly. After my father’s accident, I became withdrawn and didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Uncle Chen arranged for me to share a room with Chen Hao so he could keep me company and help me open up. I’m really grateful to Chen Hao and Uncle Chen! If it weren’t for them, I might be just like you—quiet and not talking to people.”

“You misunderstood what I meant before,” Fan Yirou said calmly. “The reason I don’t talk much isn’t entirely because of my parents.”

“Oh? Then why?” Gu Mengyan asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Ah, but if you don’t want to say, that’s okay. I was just wondering...”

Fan Yirou smiled and shook her head. “It’s actually nothing serious. I’m not sure if you’ll understand, but the reason I don’t talk to people is because of my family’s circumstances.”

“Hm?” Gu Mengyan hesitated, recalling that Fan Yirou had previously mentioned her family was quite well-off. Was that the reason? Did she look down on other children from less privileged families, and that’s why she didn’t talk to anyone? If so...

Reading Gu Mengyan’s expression, Fan Yirou knew exactly what she was thinking. “It’s not what you imagine. I don’t look down on anyone. On the contrary, I’m actually very willing to make friends.”

Gu Mengyan let out a sigh of relief. If Fan Yirou had really been the sort of snobbish, gold-digging girl who looked down on others, inviting her to stay over would have been a terrible idea. Uncle Chen would certainly be unhappy if he knew she’d invited someone like that.

“So what’s the real reason?” Gu Mengyan asked, still puzzled.

“How should I put it?” Fan Yirou tilted her head, thinking. “Maybe it’s because, thanks to my parents, I’ve seen too much since I was little. To put it simply, my family is extremely well-off—no less so than yours.

You know, in families like ours, there are always people trying to curry favor and cling to power. Their friendships aren’t genuine; they’re driven by self-interest. I’ve seen enough of these people at home, and I’ve witnessed their ugly faces.

Maybe a few genuinely want to be friends with my father, but I always feel that if it weren’t for his power, they’d never give him a second glance.”

As Fan Yirou spoke, there was a maturity in her tone far beyond her ten years—a stark contrast to Gu Mengyan’s innocence. One was a sweet, naive child; the other, an old soul, wise beyond her years.

“So you’re worried that if you reveal your identity at school, the other kids will treat you like those adults—trying to please you for their own gain? And to avoid that, you deliberately keep your distance?” Gu Mengyan tried to understand. “But if that’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it a bit unnecessary? You could just keep your family background a secret and let everyone think you’re from an ordinary family. That way, you could connect with them, couldn’t you?

Look at me—I’m doing the same. If it weren’t for today’s birthday party, no one would know I’m from a rich family. And see how the other kids are behaving? No one is going out of their way to flatter me! They’re all having fun in the yard.”

“So I think, Yirou—may I call you Yirou?” Gu Mengyan asked, her tone gentle.

Fan Yirou seemed a bit unused to such a familiar address, but she neither agreed nor objected.

“So I think you’re worrying too much, Yirou. After all, we’re just kids! We don’t think that far ahead, and you don’t need to shut yourself off from everyone.” Gu Mengyan patiently tried to persuade her.

But to her surprise, Fan Yirou didn’t seem to agree, her expression unmoved. “You’re oversimplifying things...”

“Hm?”

“Avoiding those who cling to the powerful is only part of it. There’s another reason,” Fan Yirou said.

“What is it?”

Fan Yirou didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked slowly ahead, as if considering how to explain. When they passed the garden, she knelt down by a cluster of brilliant flowers.

She reached out and plucked the most beautiful bloom. “Look at this flower—it’s so vibrant, the most eye-catching blossom in the whole garden. It’s the first thing you notice when you walk in.

But a flower this bright and lovely could never blend in with the common weeds. Someone like me will pick it, put it in my hair or a vase, and water it with the best water—not leave it outside to fend for itself among the weeds.

This flower is destined to be a fleeting visitor in the world of weeds. Even if they meet for a while, they’ll eventually part ways and live different lives. Their differences were set from the moment they were born.

So why bother forming deep connections? That would only make parting more painful later on.”

Fan Yirou used this vivid metaphor to explain why she didn’t interact with others: she saw herself as the garden’s brightest flower, while the children from ordinary families were the weeds. Though the analogy might seem a bit harsh, even discriminatory, that wasn’t her intent—she just wanted to illustrate the contrast for Gu Mengyan.

In her metaphor, she was set apart from birth, destined for a different path. At school, she was the rare flower among the flock. Even if she mingled with the other students for a while, their lives, families, and worlds were so different that sooner or later she would leave for another world. They would almost never cross paths again. Better to avoid the pain of parting by not connecting in the first place—that was why Fan Yirou kept her distance.

Perhaps the metaphor was too complex for ten-year-old Gu Mengyan. Fan Yirou couldn’t tell if she understood, for there was no look of contemplation or sudden realization on Gu Mengyan’s face.

Instead, Gu Mengyan offered a completely unexpected perspective.

“Yirou, I don’t think that’s quite right,” Gu Mengyan said earnestly. “Yes, a beautiful flower may eventually leave the weeds behind. But don’t forget, without the weeds, how would the flower’s beauty stand out?

And a flower isn’t just its blossom. Without its leaves and stem, it couldn’t grow. Even when someone picks a flower, they take the blossom with the stem and leaves—never just the flower alone.

And you’ve seen flower shops, haven’t you? No matter what kind of flower they sell, they always bundle them with some green grass. That’s what makes a bouquet beautiful.

So I think, no matter how beautiful a flower is, it can never fully separate itself from the grass. We’re the same—even if we’re children of wealthy families, we can’t survive apart from the group. The food we eat is grown by ordinary people, isn’t it?

The clothes we wear are made by ordinary people, and the pencils and books we use are all made by them. If you really cut yourself off from ordinary people, your life would...”

Fan Yirou looked at Gu Mengyan in surprise, not expecting such words from this bright, outgoing girl. For a moment, she was left speechless.

But Gu Mengyan wasn’t finished. “And there’s something else that proves me right—me!”

“Hm?” Now it was Fan Yirou’s turn to be confused.

“I used to be just an ordinary kid, the kind you talked about. But by some twist of fate, I became a rich girl, just like you—a sparrow turned into a phoenix! Doesn’t that mean even weeds can bloom into flowers?”

Fan Yirou was truly at a loss for words. Gu Mengyan watched her patiently as she fell silent. Neither spoke, and in the golden glow of the autumn dusk, the two girls stood in the garden, looking like two vibrant blossoms themselves.

They both seemed to savor the rare peace and beauty of the moment, until a raucous voice shattered the calm: “Hey! Where did you run off to? The banquet’s about to begin!”

It was, of course, Chen Hao. He glanced at Fan Yirou curiously when he saw her standing beside Gu Mengyan. “Huh? Who’s she? Why isn’t she with the other kids?”