RaindropTranslation

Freud Night had fallen deep, the wind had picked up, and the hotel lobby lights cast the fine rain into tangible, shimmering threads. Yi Xinling volunteered for the front passenger seat, popping her head out to look at Yi Siling. "Yi Zhaozhao, just drop me off at school first. I won't stay at the hotel with you." She was taking no chances of being too bright a third wheel. Uncle Mei asked with a smile, "Which school do you attend, Third Miss?” "Jing University. I’m staying in Xie Ningning’s dorm.” Uncle Mei was surprised; what a wonderful twist of fate. "So you are the dear friend the young miss often talks about. When fate comes knocking, there really is no stopping it." Yi Xinling agreed, making a face at Yi Siling before shutting the door and comfortably burying herself in her phone. Traitor! And she was calling her Zhaozhao again! Yi Siling sulkily wrapped the oversized suit jacket around herself. The night rain fell in a thousand slanti...

Freud "..." Who was unhappy? Yi Siling stared blankly at Xie Xunzhi, a sudden flush rising hot and relentless in her cheeks. In all her twenty-four years, she'd never felt so mortified. Her mind had completely stalled. No, wait. Where had she ever gotten a boyfriend who was passionately in love with her? And an unhappy one at that? A blur of memory flashed through her mind. A waiter, head hanging low, timidly telling her that a Mr. Xie would like to invite her to his private room for a chat. She'd been in a terrible mood then, itching for someone to vent on, and so this ill-fated Mr. Xie had become the unlucky soul she seized on a whim. "Go tell that Mr. Xie I have a boyfriend. We're passionately in love, and I'm in no mood to chat with anyone irrelevant. Tell him to get lost." Yi Siling's mind went entirely blank. Her eyes locked onto the man standing before her, staring fixedly for several long seconds until the shattered pieces fina...

Freud The top floor of Yunxi Hotel was Xie Xunzhi's private suite. Whenever work and social obligations kept him too busy to make it back to Xie Estate, he'd turn in here for the night. The fingerprint lock clicked open, and Xie Xunzhi stepped inside. Uncle Mei was in the walk-in closet ironing Xie Xunzhi's daily suits. Hearing the commotion, he walked out to find the man standing near the entry, undoing his tie with an exceptionally cold expression. Uncle Mei asked, "Why are you up here at this hour?" The Windsor knot finally loosened, and Xie Xunzhi pulled the tie free. "I've stayed long enough." Uncle Mei's expression grew subtle as he probed carefully, "I thought the future young madam was coming? You didn't stay to talk with her a bit longer?" Xie Xunzhi glanced sideways at him. Uncle Mei quickly schooled his face, though his little evasive gestures gave him away. He was under Madam Yang's explicit mandate to rep...

Freud The man standing before her was Xie Xunzhi. Yi Siling felt her vision go dark, frozen where she stood. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined being this unlucky. Walking straight into the lion's den like a fool—not only had she startled the snake, but she'd exposed herself completely! Beijing truly wasn't her turf. Even her good fortune seemed to have been sealed away. She tightened her grip on her glass, the flush draining from her five delicate, rose-pink fingernails as she forced her spine straight. The twin snowflakes dangling from her ears swayed gently. She stood frozen there for an unnerving stretch before she managed to thaw her expression. "You're Xie Xunzhi?"   "I am." Two quiet, measured words sent her blood pressure spiking. She forced herself to stay calm, not to lose her composure, but at the same time she was compelled to observe, to evaluate. So this was the man her parents had praised to the high heavens. The v...

Freud Two days later, an autumn rain began to fall in the early hours before dawn. The weather forecast had warned of a drop in temperature, and sure enough, the chill arrived as promised. The whole city lay beneath a wash of gray, the sky and rain bleeding into one another like ink on rice paper, as if at any moment the clouds might drip a fresh stroke of black. Just two days ago, Yi Siling could still have gotten away with a bare-legged dress, but today called for a coat. The cold wind had turned her knees a rosy red. "So cold…" She clasped her icy hands together, staring absently out the window. The stylist had created showstopping looks for countless A-list celebrities, yet she approached Yi Siling with the same solemn concentration she would bring to a major campaign. This premier socialite from Hong Kong carried an innate, effortless radiance that commanded the room. The stylist had no intention of letting her reputation take a hit. "It's not as warm...