Not long after, the doorbell rang.
A servant went to open the door, but before they could announce the visitor, a whirlwind of a figure had already rushed from the entryway into the living room.
“Gu Xihe!”
Gu Wangshu turned toward the voice.
The newcomer was a tall young woman, around twenty-four or twenty-five years old. She wore a sharply tailored pair of black high-waisted wide-leg trousers and an ivory silk blouse, walking with an energetic stride.
Her shoulder-length hair was styled in the currently popular wavy curls, swept back by a tortoiseshell-colored wide headband, revealing a distinct oval face.
Her features weren’t traditionally beautiful, but they were vivid, lively, and highly distinctive, giving her an overall impression of spirited brightness.
In one hand, she carried a brown leather briefcase; in the other, a paper bag printed with the words “Kee Wah Bakery.”
At the moment, she casually set both items aside without breaking stride, heading straight for the sofa.
Then, she threw her arms around Gu Wangshu.
She charged forward with a surprising force, her arms wrapping tightly around Gu Wangshu’s shoulders with such strength that the bones in her back gave an audible crack.
Gu Wangshu staggered from the impact, her footing already unsteady. She stumbled back several steps, her lower back hitting the arm of the sofa before she managed to steady herself.
“Oh dear! Careful, careful!”
Aunt Wen was startled and quickly reached out from the side to support both of them.
Only then did Zhang Ziyu realize her own recklessness. She immediately let go and took half a step back, looking Gu Wangshu up and down, her eyes instantly reddening.
But the words that came out of her mouth were of a completely different tone.
“I just went to Shenzhen!” she said, her voice urgent and rapid. “I was gone less than a week! How… how did this happen to you?”
Gu Wangshu looked at her.
As she gazed at this lively face, so openly expressive, a strange feeling welled up inside her.
She didn’t know Zhang Ziyu, yet this complete stranger now held her sleeve with reddened eyes and trembling fingers, pouring out sincere concern and worry, making Gu Wangshu’s throat tighten slightly.
Not for herself, but for Gu Xihe.
This silly girl, at least she had a friend like this by her side.
Gu Wangshu glanced discreetly at Aunt Wen.
Aunt Wen understood and quickly stepped forward, speaking softly to Zhang Ziyu, “Miss Zhang, you might not know yet, but my young lady doesn’t remember anything from the past.”
Zhang Ziyu’s expression froze instantly.
“…What?”
It took several seconds for her to find her voice again, her tone unconsciously rising.
“What do you mean she doesn’t remember the past? You… you have amnesia?”
Gu Wangshu met her eyes and nodded calmly.
Zhang Ziyu’s mouth fell open even wider.
“You…”
“You don’t remember me?”
Gu Wangshu nodded again.
“Aside from some things from childhood, I don’t remember anything else.”
Zhang Ziyu stood there, stunned, speechless for a long moment.
Then she took a deep breath and suddenly asked:
“That…”
Her tone had changed. It was no longer the brash urgency from before but had become tentative and carefully subdued.
“…That person, you don’t remember them either?”
Gu Wangshu understood.
She was probably referring to Gu Xihe’s lover—that mainland man who worked as a clerk in a gold shop, the one who swallowed sleeping pills with her and, at the last moment, dialed for emergency help.
Gu Wangshu shook her head. “I don’t remember.”
Zhang Ziyu fell silent for two or three seconds.
Then she sighed.
“Maybe it’s better that you don’t remember.”
“He was also a worthless scoundrel.”
Gu Wangshu didn’t respond. Some things were not for her to judge.
The two of them sat down on the sofa.
Zhang Ziyu sat to Gu Wangshu’s left, with a cushion’s distance between them. She crossed one leg, placed her bag on her lap, and relaxed as if she were in her own home.
Aunt Wen brought a pot of soup from the kitchen.
As soon as the lid was lifted, a rich steam filled the air, carrying the fragrance of medicinal herbs and the savory sweetness of chicken.
American ginseng and silkie chicken soup.
Silkie chicken, also known as black-boned chicken, is small in size, with fine bones and tender meat. It is one of the favorite ingredients for Cantonese people when making nourishing soups.
Aunt Wen had used a whole silkie chicken, chopped into large pieces, and simmered it gently with thinly sliced American ginseng for a full three hours.
Carefully, she ladled out two bowls.
“Drink it while it’s hot,” she said, handing one bowl to Gu Wangshu and the other to Zhang Ziyu, chattering as she did so.
“American ginseng replenishes qi, and silkie chicken nourishes the blood—perfect for your current condition, miss. I also added a little astragalus and codonopsis, just a bit, so you don’t have to worry about getting too heated.”
Zhang Ziyu took the bowl, blew on it first, then tilted her head back and took a big sip. It was so hot that she grimaced, but she still mumbled praise: “Delicious, Aunt Wen, your soup-making skills have improved again.”
Aunt Wen laughed at her. “If it’s good, drink more.”
Zhang Ziyu blew on the hot soup in her bowl, drinking while glancing sideways at Gu Wangshu.
“So, are you still coming with me to Shenzhen next week?”
“Shenzhen?” Gu Wangshu looked up, her spoon pausing mid-air.
Zhang Ziyu slapped her forehead. “Oh, right, I forgot—you don’t remember.”
She put down her bowl, adjusted her sitting position on the sofa, and turned slightly toward Gu Wangshu, resting one arm on a cushion.
“Shenzhen used to be Bao’an County. In 1979, when the mainland started its reform and opening-up policy, they established special economic zones, and Bao’an County became Shenzhen City.”
“You have no idea how much it’s changed. When I first went there a few years ago, it was still all construction sites—digging foundations, driving piles, everything covered in dust.”
“This time when I go back, wow! The International Trade Building is already finished—over fifty stories tall, the tallest building in all of China! The streets are full of new buildings, roads being paved, factories opening up. It changes every single day.”
Gu Wangshu listened quietly.
Shenzhen, special economic zone, reform and opening-up.
All of these were things that happened after her death.
When she left this world in 1977, Bao’an was still an obscure border county. In just ten years, it had transformed into a rising new city.
“Is it easy to go to the mainland now?” she asked.
“Going to Shenzhen is still quite easy,” Zhang Ziyu replied. “You’ve been there before, and your home visit permit is already processed.”
“What did I go there for before?” she asked.
As soon as the question left her lips, Zhang Ziyu’s expression shifted slightly.
She fell silent for a moment, sighed, and said, “Your Xinda Group collaborated with the mainland two years ago to develop a residential project in Shenzhen called Yijing Villas.”
“You…”
She paused.
“You kept a unit there.”
“Originally, it was meant for… for living in Shenzhen with that man surnamed Wu.”
Hearing this, Gu Wangshu understood.
So Gu Xihe’s plan back then—to elope with that man surnamed He—wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment impulse.
She had even prepared a property in Shenzhen, ready to start anew there.
It was just a pity that the man didn’t stay with her until the end.
Gu Wangshu pondered for a while.
“Are you going there again next week?”
“Yes, I’ve scheduled some interviews,” Zhang Ziyu explained.
“Our newspaper is currently working on a Shenzhen special feature, covering the development and changes in the special economic zone over the past few years. I need to interview several Hong Kong businessmen who operate there.”
“Ah, it’s what Hong Kong people often call ‘going north.’ Nowadays, many Hong Kong businessmen are heading to Shenzhen, engaging in processing trade, real estate, and factories. They say labor and land are cheaper there, with plenty of opportunities to make money.”
Gu Wangshu nodded.
She held the bowl and took the last sip of soup. The slight bitterness of American ginseng lingered on her tongue, but her stomach already felt warm and comfortable.
She placed the bowl back on the coffee table, looked up, and met Zhang Ziyu’s gaze.
“I’ll go with you.”