〈Romance of An-ping: Miss
Jin’s Interethnic Love Story〉19

Chapter 18 Vianna Discovers Junsheng’s Secret
91

The bedroom was dimly lit, with a gray, hazy daylight streaming in through the half-open window, casting a long, faint shadow across the desk. The bookshelf by the wall stood silently. Wind seeped in through narrow gaps, stirring the letter paper and the quill pen on the desk, as well as the unfolded, unfinished letter.

Junsheng sat by the window, holding the pen, his expression focused. His strokes were heavy and deliberate, writing word by word on the paper:
“Dear Shayun: Father’s funeral has just been held…”

Suddenly, Helena’s slightly hoarse voice came from downstairs: “Junsheng, come downstairs and help me for a moment.”

Junsheng responded, stood up, straightened the letter paper and the pen, and hurriedly left the room.

The door was casually pulled to, left slightly ajar. Not long after his footsteps faded away, Vianna pushed the door open and entered.

She was wearing a deep blue woolen long dress, her cheeks still flushed with the cold wind from outside. She walked into the room, originally intending to find a notebook. Her gaze inadvertently swept across the desk, and the familiar handwriting on the letter paper caught her eye.

She frowned, her gaze held by the words. After hesitating for a moment, she finally picked up the unsealed letter. She read it aloud, her voice almost a whisper:
“…I hope to make it back to Tayouan Harbor before the child is born. You are with child; do not overexert yourself…”

Her fingertips trembled slightly, her throat tightening. After a brief moment of stillness, she murmured to herself in a low voice: “Shayun… who is she? He has never mentioned this name to me… a child? Is it his child?”

Her lips pressed together slightly, her gaze drifting as she fell into deep confusion and unease. The entire room suddenly seemed empty, the air congealed, even the ticking of the clock becoming especially piercing.

“Does he really have a wife? In the Far East… then why did he marry me?” A trace of fragility and bewilderment flashed in Vianna’s eyes.

Junsheng’s footsteps came from downstairs. She suddenly came back to her senses, hastily folded the letter back into place, carefully put it back on the desk, quickly turned around, left the bedroom, and walked toward the study at the other end of the corridor, her figure appearing somewhat lost and distraught.

A few seconds later, Junsheng pushed the door open and entered, somewhat hurried. He returned to the desk, noticed nothing unusual, picked up the pen again, and continued writing. His expression was the same as before, deeply immersed in those distant memories and attachments.

Not far outside the door, Vianna quietly returned, standing silently by the side of the door, gazing at Junsheng’s back through the narrow gap.

His writing was filled with deep affection, the tip of the pen making a soft rustling sound across the paper, yet that sound was like a blade cutting into her heart.

Vianna thought to herself: “Junsheng said he will ask about the ship schedule tomorrow… he is in a hurry to go back… is it because of that child? He did not kiss me at the wedding… even after we married, he has never taken the initiative to touch me… is all of this to protect that past love?”

She lowered her head, her hands unconsciously gripping the hem of her clothes, her eyes flickering with pain and struggle.

“He already has a family… then what should I do? Let him go? Or accompany him back… even if only as a friend?”

She murmured softly, as if speaking to the air, and also as if bidding farewell to the love and unwillingness in her heart.

“Tonight, I must have an open and honest talk with Junsheng… no matter what the truth is, I want to know… what I am to him in his heart.”

The wind outside the window gradually rose, the shadows of the trees swaying, as if foreshadowing a storm about to arrive—not only in the autumn night, but also upon the unspoken wall of the heart between the two of them.

92

The night was like thick ink, quietly covering the outline of the harbor. The silhouettes of ships in the distance appeared and disappeared in the mist, their lights flickering like stars. The sea breeze, carrying a damp salty scent, struck against the railing of the balcony.

Junsheng leaned with both hands on the railing, the hair on his forehead slightly lifted by the wind. His expression was focused, gazing at the faint lights of the distant harbor, as if seeing another world, another life. The mist-like night gathered in his eyes into homesickness.

Soft footsteps came from behind—it was Vianna.

She wore a dark gray shawl, her face without makeup, yet her eyes were especially clear, her resolve already set. She stood beside him, silent for a moment.

After a while, she softly asked: “Junsheng, you really want to go back to the Far East, don’t you?”

Junsheng’s shoulders stiffened slightly. He turned to look at her, his expression complex. His voice carried a hint of reproach: “You read the letter I wrote?”

Vianna lowered her head, her tone gentle yet sincere: “I’m sorry… I saw it by accident. I truly didn’t mean to.”

He was silent for a few seconds, then finally nodded slowly: “Yes, I want to go back.”

The sea breeze lightly brushed across their faces, carrying an unspoken heaviness.

Vianna said softly: “Junsheng, I didn’t know you were already married in the Far East… otherwise, I would not have…”

Junsheng turned to face her, a trace of apology and fatigue flashing in his eyes. His tone softened: “Vianna, I’m sorry. I did not intend to deceive you… I just… did not expect to meet you, nor did I expect that you would agree to marry me.”

Vianna gave a bitter smile, a faint glimmer appearing at the corner of her eyes, her voice slightly trembling: “Since things have already happened, what is the use of pursuing whether it was intentional or not? I don’t want you to be worried every day… if you are unhappy, I feel very bad as well…”

Junsheng looked away, his voice low and hoarse: “I must go back as soon as possible… the child is about to be born. Shayun and the child… need me.”

Vianna raised her head, looking at him with firm eyes: “If you just leave like that, then what about me?”

Junsheng lowered his head and murmured: “I’m sorry…”

Her tone suddenly rose slightly, her emotions gradually surging: “Can one sentence of ‘I’m sorry’ solve anything? Do you think marriage is just an episode in a journey, something you can start whenever you want and end whenever you want?”

Junsheng frowned, a painful struggle appearing on his face: “We can divorce… I don’t want to delay your youth, nor do I want you to sacrifice so much for me…”

Vianna looked straight at him, her voice low yet resolute: “Do you take marriage as a joke? This is not the man I once knew.”

Junsheng’s tone became helpless yet defensive: “Then what do you want me to do? Bind me to your side? Watch me think of another family every day?”

Vianna looked steadily at him, her tone turning gentle yet unyielding: “Your heart is no longer here. What is the meaning of binding you to my side? But I don’t want you to bear this alone. I will go with you to the Far East.”

Junsheng was startled, turning to look at her, surprise and unease flashing in his eyes: “Go back to the Far East with me? You… will your mother agree?”

Vianna took a breath, her voice firm like rocks revealed after the tide recedes: “I will try my best to persuade her. This is the only way before us… to face reality, rather than to escape it.”

The sea breeze rose again, lifting her long hair, and also unsettling the firm resolve that had once filled his chest. He gazed into her eyes, and something within him seemed to be gently shaken.

Standing on the balcony under the night sky, they were no longer a pair of unfamiliar husband and wife, but companions about to face an unknown fate together.

93
A brass chandelier hung beneath the carved ceiling, its soft yellow light spilling across the intricate Persian carpet and velvet sofa, as if condensing the oppressive atmosphere into a heavy, tangible air. The fire in the fireplace burned vigorously, flames flickering and casting light upon Stephanie’s tense face, illuminating her anger with unmistakable clarity.

Viana stood beside the fireplace, her hands clasped before her chest, her expression resolute yet tinged with a hidden plea.

“How could such a thing happen? This is absolutely absurd!” Stephanie suddenly stood up, her long dress swaying. Her voice was sharp like a sword drawn from its sheath, her face a mixture of shock and anger that formed utter disbelief.

Viana stepped forward quickly, grasping her mother’s hand, her tone imploring: “Mother, I don’t want to lose Junsheng… I truly… cannot.”

Stephanie shook off her hand and paced angrily across the carpet. “I will personally go ask Junsheng and Helena! I’ll demand an explanation from both mother and son!”

“Please don’t, Mother. That would only make things harder to resolve…” Viana stepped forward, trying to steady her by the shoulders.

“They have gone too far!” Stephanie turned around, pointing at her daughter, her voice agitated. “I have only one daughter—why should you suffer such humiliation? What do they take us for?!”

Viana’s eyes reddened. She suppressed her emotions and said softly, “Mother… let me accompany Junsheng to the Far East first, alright?”

“No!” Stephanie crossed her arms, her voice resolute. “You want to leave me behind and go to such a place alone?”

“I won’t. Once things are settled there, I’ll come back and bring you over…”

Stephanie let out a cold laugh and interrupted her. “You are too naïve, Viana. In what capacity will you go to the Far East? To do what? What face will you have in front of that woman?”

Viana lowered her head, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I… I can only face it honestly.”

A trace of tenderness flashed in Stephanie’s eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by anger. Her voice rose almost into a roar: “I will not let you suffer such humiliation! Our family and Jan’s family had a marriage agreement long ago. You and Junsheng grew up together—how could he treat you like this?!”

As she spoke, her voice suddenly softened, her eyes reddening. “Before your father died, he entrusted me… to ensure your marriage with Junsheng would be completed… Now things have turned out like this… how am I supposed to face him in the future? What should I say? That my daughter has become Junsheng’s concubine?”

These words pierced Viana’s heart like a dagger. She lifted her head, tears shimmering in her eyes. “Mother… things have already happened. We must resolve them. I don’t want Junsheng to just leave—it would only make everything worse.”

Stephanie gritted her teeth and strode quickly to the window, yanking open the heavy curtains. Cold wind rushed in, stirring her shawl. She turned back, speaking word by word: “I will handle this matter myself, in my own way! I will not let you suffer any injustice!”

Viana rushed forward and embraced her waist, choking with tears. “Mother… please don’t… I don’t want Junsheng to resent me… I only want everything to end properly.”

Stephanie looked down at her daughter in her arms, her brows tightly knit. Her gaze wavered for a moment, then hardened again. She gently pushed Viana away, her tone like iron: “I have made my decision. Say no more!”

The fire in the fireplace continued to burn, and the wind murmured outside the window. In the living room remained only the silent tension between two generations of women—one clinging to love, the other defending dignity. Neither was a victor; there was only deepening complexity and pain.

94
Sunlight slanted through the blinds, falling across the dark brown wooden floor. In the small garden outside, bellflowers swayed gently in the breeze. An old wall clock above the fireplace ticked steadily, as if time itself had frozen within this conversation.

At the center of the living room, an oak tea table held a silver teapot and two porcelain cups that had barely been touched; the black tea had already grown lukewarm.

Stephanie sat in a carved high-backed chair, her hands clasped tightly on her knees, her gaze sharp as needles, fixed upon Helena across from her.

“…This is exactly what Viana told me!” she finally spoke, her voice low yet unable to suppress her anger.

Helena sat opposite her, leaning forward slightly, nervously rubbing the handkerchief on her lap. Her tone was earnest: “My dear in-law, I am truly very sorry. Junsheng’s marriage in the Far East… he did write to inform us. But at that time his father was still ill, and your husband had just passed away, so I… I put the matter aside for the time being.”

Stephanie’s brows furrowed sharply, her voice rising. “Since you already knew, why didn’t you make it clear before their wedding? If you had said it then, things would not have turned out like this!”

She suddenly stood and walked to the window, pulling open the sheer curtain. Sunlight streamed in at an angle, casting her figure into a rigid silhouette, revealing her suppressed emotions.

Helena lowered her head slightly, aware of her fault, her tone becoming even more humble. “Please forgive my selfishness. On one hand, I feared that if Jan knew Junsheng had started a family in the Far East on his own, his frail body would not withstand the shock. On the other… I did not want Junsheng to leave the Netherlands again, to leave this home. So when he returned… I… I found a way to keep him here.”

As she spoke, her eyes grew moist, her handkerchief clenched tightly, her knuckles pale.

Stephanie turned back and sat down again. Her tone softened slightly, yet remained firm. “I can understand your reasons. You did not want Junsheng to leave again—I understand… But we are both mothers. You think for your son, and I must seek justice for my daughter.”

Helena looked up, her tone softened. “Then tell me what to do. I am willing to listen.”

Stephanie took a sip of the now-cool tea, her tone calm yet underlined with tension. “Both our families will move to England and live together, so that Junsheng will completely abandon any thought of returning to the Far East.”

These words fell like a pebble into the teacup, creating ripples.

Helena froze for a moment and repeated softly, “Move to England… together?”

Stephanie nodded, her gaze firm. “I have purchased a countryside estate in the south. It is spacious and suitable for Jan’s recovery. From now on, we will no longer allow Junsheng to waver.”

Helena pondered briefly, then said slowly, “I understand your intention. Perhaps… this is the only way to stabilize everything.”

She lifted her head to meet Stephanie’s gaze. The eyes of the two mothers met in the air—complex, conflicted, yet ultimately rooted in love and protection for their children.

The firelight flickered in the fireplace, casting their silhouettes side by side upon the wall—no longer adversaries, but two women seeking order amid chaos.

95
The afternoon sunlight slanted down beneath the arcade, where men, women, and children lined up waiting for treatment. Some sat on bamboo chairs coughing softly; some held children, soothing their cries; others, elderly and bent, leaned on canes as they waited their turn. Cooking smoke drifted from the street corner, mingling with the scent of herbal medicine and human sweat, filling the street with the breath of everyday life.

Father Matthews stepped under the arcade, and many patients nodded politely in greeting. He wore a white linen robe, holding a straw hat in his hand. A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and his face bore the fatigue of travel.

At the entrance of the clinic hung a cloth curtain, upon which were written the four characters “Junsheng Clinic” in firm and clear strokes. He lifted the curtain and stepped into the consultation room.

Inside, the air was filled with the fragrance of medicine. Bottles and jars were neatly arranged on shelves. On the table lay heavy medical books and instruments. Along the wall, two or three villagers sat waiting their turn.

Shayun, dressed in a dark work skirt and a blue headscarf, was bent over, bandaging a woman’s wrist. Her movements were skillful yet gentle.

Matthews stepped in quietly and said with a smile, “I just went to see the bishop at the church and came by to visit you on the way.”

Without turning back, Shayun raised her hand slightly in acknowledgment and said in a busy yet friendly tone, “Father, please sit and rest first. There’s tea in the corner—help yourself. I still have two patients to see.”

Matthews smiled, walked to the tea table, poured himself a cup, and sat on a bench, watching her busy figure with a gentle gaze.

“You’re so busy—how can your body endure this?” he asked with concern.

After finishing with the patient and personally seeing her out, Shayun removed her headscarf. Sweat already covered her forehead and neck. She wiped it with a handkerchief and said with a sigh, “There’s no choice. I’m the only one seeing patients. I can’t go any faster.”

After speaking, she stroked her swollen belly. Her body swayed slightly, and she quickly steadied herself by holding the edge of the table.

Matthews hurriedly stood and gently supported her arm, his tone more serious. “You must take better care of yourself. Don’t overwork.”

Shayun smiled lightly. “I’m fine. The baby is very well-behaved—just… a bit heavy.”

Matthews sat back down, speaking slowly. “If we calculate the timing, Andrew’s ship should be docking soon. However… by the time Junsheng finishes handling matters at home, he may not make it in time for Andrew’s ship. He will probably take another ship back, but… the timing is hard to determine.”