After Zhang Ziyu left, Gu Wangshu remained sitting on the sofa.
Newspapers were scattered in a wide circle around her. Some were neatly stacked, while others had already been opened and spread across the coffee table, the armrest, and even her lap.
There were the Ta Kung Pao and Wen Wei Po, as well as the Oriental Daily News and Sing Pao.
From the daily papers published over the past month to older issues the housekeeper had managed to find, there was enough material to cover the entire coffee table.
She felt that reading the newspapers was probably the fastest way to understand the era she had returned to.
The housekeeper, Uncle Liu, was in his fifties. He was lean but energetic, dressed in a dark-gray traditional Chinese jacket that had been pressed to perfection, his hair combed neatly into place.
He gently placed the last stack of newspapers on the corner of the coffee table and inclined his head slightly.
“Miss, as you instructed, these are all the recent issues we still had in storage. If you want newspapers from even earlier years, I’m afraid we’ll have to look for them at secondhand bookstores or libraries. Would you like me to arrange that?”
Gu Wangshu continued flipping through the newspaper in her hands. She looked up and shook her head.
“No, this is enough for now. Thank you for your trouble, Uncle Liu.”
Her tone was calm and courteous. She had addressed him respectfully.
That small change in how she spoke made Uncle Liu pause for a moment.
The Gu Xihe he had known before had always been kind to the servants, but she had never addressed him so formally.
He didn’t ask any questions. He simply nodded.
“It’s no trouble. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Gu Wangshu was about to lower her head and continue reading when the movement of her hands suddenly stopped.
Her eyes had fallen on a property advertisement on one of the pages.
The advertisement featured a photograph of Repulse Bay—the golden beach, blue-green water, and elegant white villas scattered across the hillside.
Repulse Bay.
She raised her head and looked at Uncle Liu, who was preparing to leave.
“Uncle Liu, there’s actually something I wanted to ask you.”
He stopped and turned around.
“Yes, Miss?”
Gu Wangshu carefully considered her wording.
“I remember… my cousin was living in Repulse Bay before she passed away.”
“Is that house still there?”
Uncle Liu froze for a moment.
His gaze lingered on Gu Wangshu’s face before he quickly understood what she meant.
He gave a slight nod, lowering his voice.
“Yes. After the eldest young lady passed away, all of her personal belongings were placed in a safe-deposit box at HSBC. There are two keys. One is with Vice Chairman Ji, and the other is with me.”
“The shares that belonged to the eldest young lady have also been held in Vice Chairman Ji’s name all these years. As for the villa in Repulse Bay…”
“The key is with me. On Mr. Ji’s instructions, I have someone go over and clean it from time to time. It has been ten years. We’ve kept it that way all this time.”
“Vice Chairman Ji?” Gu Wangshu caught the other important piece of information and frowned slightly.
“Yes, Mr. Ji Junde,” Uncle Liu replied. “He is currently the vice chairman of Xinda Group.”
Ji Junde.
Of course Gu Wangshu remembered that name.
Ji Junde had been her grandfather Gu Shiyong’s most trusted right-hand man.
“I remember that when my cousin passed away, she said she was leaving her entire estate to my elder brother.”
Gu Wangshu spoke slowly.
“Why are those things… still being kept like this?”
What she really meant was: Why hadn’t her brother taken possession of the inheritance?
The moment she asked, Uncle Liu’s expression changed.
He was silent for several seconds before slowly answering.
“It was three years after the eldest young lady passed away that we finally managed to get in touch with the eldest young master.”
Three years.
Gu Wangshu tightened her grip on the edge of the newspaper.
“At the time, the eldest young master had just returned to Beijing from Yunnan,” Uncle Liu continued. “We managed to contact him, but his attitude was very firm.”
“He said…”
Uncle Liu lowered his eyes slightly.
“He said he had never fulfilled his responsibilities as a grandson for even a single day. He couldn’t accept anything the old master had left to the eldest young lady.”
“A few years ago, Mr. Ji personally went to Beijing…”
Uncle Liu shook his head, the helplessness in his voice growing heavier.
“But he still couldn’t persuade the eldest young master. Originally, Mr. Gu wanted to…”
He stopped, as though uncertain whether he should continue.
“Mr. Ji stopped him.”
“Mr. Gu” referred to her second uncle, Gu Bingwen, the current head of Xinda Group.
Ji Junde had stopped him.
Gu Wangshu didn’t need to think too hard to understand what that meant.
Her second uncle had probably wanted to dispose of the unclaimed inheritance in some way, while Ji Junde had stepped in to prevent him.
Whether it was out of loyalty to Gu Shiyong or simply because, as an old-fashioned businessman, he had a deep-rooted respect for rules and principles, Ji Junde had protected everything exactly as it was.
When Gu Wangshu had arrived in Hong Kong in 1976, she had never told her grandfather the truth about her physical condition.
She couldn’t bear to.
She had seen the thin layer of tears in her grandfather’s eyes when he saw her. She had seen his trembling hands and his frail, aging figure that could barely remain standing.
How could she possibly tell him that the granddaughter he had waited so many years to see was actually someone the doctors had already condemned to death?
By the time Gu Shiyong learned that his grandson, Gu Xiuyuan, was still alive, he was already terminally ill.
Perhaps out of guilt, perhaps out of a desire to make amends, or perhaps simply because of an old man’s most basic and stubborn attachment, he had left part of the Gu family’s assets to the two siblings, Gu Wangshu and Gu Xiuyuan.
Among them were twenty percent of the shares in Xinda Group.
“How is my elder brother…?”
Uncle Liu sighed.
“It was only after Mr. Ji went to Beijing that he learned what had happened in Yunnan all those years ago.”
“The eldest young master survived… but…”
He sighed again.
“His leg was injured. Conditions were difficult at the time, and medical care wasn’t readily available. He didn’t receive treatment in time, and it left him with a permanent problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
Gu Wangshu’s voice tightened abruptly.
“He limps when he walks.”
Gu Wangshu felt her vision blur.
Her brother.
Her brother had become… a cripple.
She fought desperately to keep herself under control.
She bit down on her lower lip so hard that a faint metallic taste of blood spread through her mouth.
She used that sharp pain to anchor herself, refusing to let herself completely break down in front of Uncle Liu.
“I understand. Thank you, Uncle Liu.”
Uncle Liu inclined his head slightly and quietly left the living room.
Now there was only Gu Wangshu.
At last, she no longer had to hold herself together.
Tears fell one after another.
They landed on the open newspaper, spreading into dark stains of ink, like drops of ink blooming across rice paper.
She hastily wiped her face with the back of her hand, drew in a deep breath, and slowly let it out.
She repeated the process several times, until the turbulent ache in her chest gradually began to settle.
Then she picked up the newspaper again.
She saw the stock market figures. The name “Hang Seng Index” was vaguely familiar to her.
She saw advertisements for properties. Taikoo Shing, City One Shatin—some of the names were familiar, others completely foreign, but the prices printed beside them left her staring in disbelief.
She saw the gossip pages, filled with heavily made-up actresses and singers she didn’t recognize at all.
But none of that shocked her the most.
What truly stopped her was an editorial.
The headline was printed slightly above the center of the page in bold black type, two sizes larger than the main text. Every word seemed to carve itself into her eyes.
“Ensuring a Smooth Transition Is in Hong Kong Society’s Fundamental Interest”
A smooth transition?
A transition to what?
Her eyes moved downward as she began reading, line by line.
The editorial was written in the rigorous, solemn style of journalism she was familiar with, quoting sources and laying out its arguments in meticulous detail.
The article mentioned something called a “Joint Declaration.”
According to the declaration, the People’s Republic of China would resume the exercise of sovereignty over Hong Kong on July 1, 1997.
The handover.
“Auntie Wen? Auntie Wen?”
Gu Wangshu didn’t even realize how loudly she had called out.
Auntie Wen was in the kitchen clearing away the dishes. Hearing her voice, she quickly wiped her hands and hurried out.
The moment she entered the living room, she saw Gu Wangshu sitting on the sofa with tears streaming down her face.
Auntie Wen was startled. She crossed the room in three quick steps, wiping Gu Wangshu’s face as she anxiously asked, “What happened? Why are you crying like this all of a sudden? Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”
Gu Wangshu wiped at her face haphazardly. Then she lifted the newspaper in her hand and pointed at the editorial headline.
“Hong Kong is going to return to China?”
Auntie Wen froze.
She lowered her eyes to where Gu Wangshu was pointing, then suddenly understood.
“Oh, that. Yes, that was settled back in 1984. The Sino-British Joint Declaration. Hong Kong will return on July 1, 1997.”
She patted Gu Wangshu on the back, her tone carrying a hint of uncertainty.
“You’re…”
Gu Wangshu wiped away another tear.
Her face was still wet with tears, yet the corners of her lips were slowly curving upward.
“I’m happy,” she said.
“I’m happy.”