At the end of the month, Fang Yuan

A little editing later
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"You soared away in your pride, while I lingered in the summer of my own."
"Broken promises lost in silence, repeated year after year."
". . ."

From the speakers of a purple Bentley, melodious music floated through the air.

Until today, Fang Yuan had never heard this song before. Hearing it now, she found she rather liked it.

Today was August thirtieth.

She had returned to the country just yesterday, spent a day at home with her parents, and early this morning, after packing her luggage, she set out by car for the capital.

Her first stop was a villa district not far from Imperial University. Some time ago, her parents had asked her opinion, and after considering it, she had said she would prefer to live on her own. The purchase of the villa had proceeded smoothly after that.

A little after eleven in the morning, guided by her navigation system, the purple Bentley arrived at the entrance of Peach Blossom Spring Villas. Fang Yuan rolled down her window. "Hello there."

She smiled at the two security guards who had just emerged from the guardhouse and were now standing beside it. "Could you open the gate for me? I’m the owner of number twenty-one, but this is my first time here."

The two young security guards: ????

They had been assigned here by Dongwu Property Management, posing as security guards. Due to the nature of their work, they had never actually met Fang Yuan in person.

But the legends—stories of how Fang Yuan was breathtakingly beautiful—were things they had heard so often they could recite them in their sleep.

And so, seeing her with their own eyes now...

The two exchanged a glance of tacit understanding, inwardly marveling.

“So the stories really are nothing but nonsense.”

“The real Fang Yuan in front of me has shattered the limits of my imagination!”

“If only I’d let myself imagine her as even more ethereal!”

These two less-than-serious guards, lost in their thoughts, actually forgot for a moment to open the gate and let Fang Yuan in.

Hu Yao witnessed this scene through the security camera feed...

As did Wang Fu and the other local magnates still living in the community, who had been forewarned of Fang Yuan’s arrival before noon and were now watching the monitors as well...

A chorus of sharp intakes of breath echoed in the monitoring room.

For everyone knew, it was true Fang Yuan’s beauty was otherworldly. But there was another part of her legend that was just as real and universally acknowledged:

Fang Yuan had a temper.

Not the kind of temper that led to shouting or violence, but a penchant for keeping accounts—and... as the steward, Wang Fu knew this best—she really did keep a little notebook for such records.

Not just one, not just for one or two people, but countless notebooks... When one was filled, she would start another, and so on.

Wang Fu had once, quite by chance, caught a glimpse of the kind of entries she wrote in that notebook, her elegant handwriting spelling out something like this:

"On XX day of XX month, year XXX, at XX hour, XX minute, Jiang Bei took advantage of my distraction to steal two pastries from me, then lied that I’d eaten them myself, and said I had a poor memory! He will pay for this!"

Wang Fu could still recall with chilling clarity the feeling he had upon reading such an entry—something only describable as unimaginable.

A coldness swept through him, as though he had fallen into an icy abyss.

From that day on, he began frantically recalling every past deed, wondering if he had ever done anything that might land his name in Fang Yuan’s little notebook.

He naïvely hoped there was nothing.

Alas, imagination was comforting, but reality was cruel.

The answer was yes—quite a lot, it seemed.

From that day, he lived in constant anxiety, always on guard against Fang Yuan’s revenge. Yet, to his surprise, Fang Yuan never retaliated...

So he began to hope, childishly, that perhaps Fang Yuan just enjoyed keeping records for fun. After all, when you’ve lived millions of years, you need some amusement, don’t you?

Until one day, when he finally let his guard down, Fang Yuan’s revenge came, swift and unexpected...

In that instant, he finally understood the truth.

Keeping accounts in her little notebooks was, indeed, a source of amusement for Fang Yuan... But the real fun, in fact, lay in—

---------

"You soared away in your pride, while I lingered in the summer of my own."
"Broken promises lost in silence, repeated year after year."
". . ."

From the speakers of a purple Bentley, melodious music floated through the air.

Until today, Fang Yuan had never heard this song before. Hearing it now, she found she rather liked it.

Today was August thirtieth.

She had returned to the country just yesterday, spent a day at home with her parents, and early this morning, after packing her luggage, she set out by car for the capital.

Her first stop was a villa district not far from Imperial University. Some time ago, her parents had asked her opinion, and after considering it, she had said she would prefer to live on her own. The purchase of the villa had proceeded smoothly after that.

A little after eleven in the morning, guided by her navigation system, the purple Bentley arrived at the entrance of Peach Blossom Spring Villas. Fang Yuan rolled down her window. "Hello there."

She smiled at the two security guards who had just emerged from the guardhouse and were now standing beside it. "Could you open the gate for me? I’m the owner of number twenty-one, but this is my first time here."

The two young security guards: ????

They had been assigned here by Dongwu Property Management, posing as security guards. Due to the nature of their work, they had never actually met Fang Yuan in person.

But the legends—stories of how Fang Yuan was breathtakingly beautiful—were things they had heard so often they could recite them in their sleep.

And so, seeing her with their own eyes now...

The two exchanged a glance of tacit understanding, inwardly marveling.

“So the stories really are nothing but nonsense.”

“The real Fang Yuan in front of me has shattered the limits of my imagination!”

“If only I’d let myself imagine her as even more ethereal!”

These two less-than-serious guards, lost in their thoughts, actually forgot for a moment to open the gate and let Fang Yuan in.

Hu Yao witnessed this scene through the security camera feed...

As did Wang Fu and the other local magnates still living in the community, who had been forewarned of Fang Yuan’s arrival before noon and were now watching the monitors as well...

A chorus of sharp intakes of breath echoed in the monitoring room.

For everyone knew, it was true Fang Yuan’s beauty was otherworldly. But there was another part of her legend that was just as real and universally acknowledged:

Fang Yuan had a temper.

Not the kind of temper that led to shouting or violence, but a penchant for keeping accounts—and... as the steward, Wang Fu knew this best—she really did keep a little notebook for such records.

Not just one, not just for one or two people, but countless notebooks... When one was filled, she would start another, and so on.

Wang Fu had once, quite by chance, caught a glimpse of the kind of entries she wrote in that notebook, her elegant handwriting spelling out something like this:

"On XX day of XX month, year XXX, at XX hour, XX minute, Jiang Bei took advantage of my distraction to steal two pastries from me, then lied that I’d eaten them myself, and said I had a poor memory! He will pay for this!"

Wang Fu could still recall with chilling clarity the feeling he had upon reading such an entry—something only describable as unimaginable.

A coldness swept through him, as though he had fallen into an icy abyss.

From that day on, he began frantically recalling every past deed, wondering if he had ever done anything that might land his name in Fang Yuan’s little notebook.

He naïvely hoped there was nothing.

Alas, imagination was comforting, but reality was cruel.

The answer was yes—quite a lot, it seemed.

From that day, he lived in constant anxiety, always on guard against Fang Yuan’s revenge. Yet, to his surprise, Fang Yuan never retaliated...

So he began to hope, childishly, that perhaps Fang Yuan just enjoyed keeping records for fun. After all, when you’ve lived millions of years, you need some amusement, don’t you?

Until one day, when he finally let his guard down, Fang Yuan’s revenge came, swift and unexpected...

In that instant, he finally understood the truth.

Keeping accounts in her little notebooks was, indeed, a source of amusement for Fang Yuan... But the real fun, in fact, lay in—