The summer of that year burned with a light so brilliant it was almost blinding.
Towering dawn redwood trees pierced the clouds, and dense camphor trees blotted out the sun. A gentle breeze drifted by, carrying the clean scent of leaves. Shadows swayed, and the light, filtering through the foliage, was fractured into a thousand tiny shards.
The drone of cicadas was a deafening clamor.
Xia Qianzhi stood in the dappled, shifting shade, her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the young boy before her, a boy of about her own age. He had a pair of upward-slanting phoenix eyes, eyes that radiated an innate nobility, an imperious air.
Those deep phoenix eyes, mingled with the searing sun, stormed into hers, commandeering her vision, invading her very life. She didn't even notice Xing Yun standing beside him.
It seemed some things in life were destined from the very beginning.
That summer, she entered his life in the role of an older sister.
But only a sister. Nothing more. And an unacknowledged one at that.
If she hadn't been Xia Qianzhi, and he hadn't been Xing Tuo, or if her identity wasn't that of Xing Shiyao's illegitimate daughter.
Then none of what followed would have happened…
If only, if only.
But in this world, there are no if-onlys.
…
"Tuo'er, Yun'er, this is Qianzhi. Qianzhi is your older sister. You must get along well."
This was the first time Xing Shiyao had brought the young Xia Qianzhi to the Xing family estate.
…
Xia Qianzhi faced the sun, watching her father's tall figure disappear at the end of the garden path.
…
Xing Tuo glared at the little girl who was supposedly his sister, his lips pressed into a tight line, not uttering a word.
"Qianzhi." The beautiful little girl took a step forward and took Qianzhi's hand, smiling. "I'm Xing Yun."
Her smile was lovely, her dark eyes as clear as crystal.
At six years old, Xing Yun was already as tall as she was. Xing Tuo was slightly taller.
"Hello," she said. "I'm Xia Qianzhi."
Xing Yun turned happily to Xing Tuo and smiled. "Brother, we have an older sister now. Isn't that great?"
"I don't have a sister!" Xing Tuo turned and stalked away.
In the days to come, similar words would be repeated frequently throughout Xia Qianzhi's life. No one could have predicted what kind of brand such vicious words would burn into both of their lives.
Whether it was ten years ago or ten years later, he never once acknowledged her as his sister.
Ten years, and then another ten. Ten years ago, no one understood. Ten years later, no one could remember.
All that remained was the echo of that tone, scattered in a memory that was slowly fading.
…
…
Xia Qianzhi and Xing Yun stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly as his back vanished into the depths of the tree-shrouded courtyard.
On that quiet summer afternoon, a breeze caressed their faces, carrying with it, amidst the fresh scent of the trees, a faint, elusive fragrance that began to silently pervade the air.
"It's gardenias," Xing Yun said suddenly. "The gardenias are in bloom."
"Gardenias?" Qianzhi repeated.
"Mhm." Xing Yun nodded, explaining, "Grandma loves gardenias the most. There's a flowerbed in the back garden just for growing them. I'll take you to see, okay?"
This was the first time Xia Qianzhi had ever seen a gardenia.
Two small figures stood beneath the blooming gardenia bushes. Blossoms of white clung to the emerald branches, blooming wantonly in the bright sun. The complex, overlapping petals unfurled, layer by layer, releasing a rich, heady fragrance that drifted away on the wind.
Xia Qianzhi lifted her head, gazing in a trance at the glorious sight before her.
"Gardenias…" Xia Qianzhi murmured.
"They smell so good, don't they?" said Xing Yun. "Grandma says she doesn't care for much else, just this scent."
Xia Qianzhi didn't speak, quietly immersing herself in the flowing fragrance of the flowers.
Many years later, even after she had forgotten the intensity of the sun that day, even after she could no longer recall the verdant green of the leaves, when all the words had been washed away and blurred by the passage of time, this patch of once-glorious gardenias still bloomed tenderly in her memory. And that fragrance, clinging to her senses, felt eternal.
That was their first meeting. That year, they were eight years old.
He was the golden son of the Xing family.
She was the Xing family's shameful, secret illegitimate daughter.
Once, in her eyes, he was the arrogant, domineering, and insolent younger brother.
Once, in his eyes, she was the insignificant older sister.
Once, the intersection of their lives was limited to just that.
Once upon a time. Once upon a time.
And in the long, long after, all of this would become nothing more than a distant once upon a time.