(It was translated from Chinese to English using online translator and with tweakings by myself, a few things still feel weird but it's just that some expressions doesn't translate well)
The evening breeze swept up the remnants of the day’s temperature and lingered on the patio, although the sky was not yet completely dark, the lights in the corridor had been turned on, a bulb was making a faint noise of the current.
Jen sat at the tea table by the patio, and the Dim sum that were supposed to be afternoon tea were on the table untouched. His was lost in thought, his eyes as if staring at some plant in the courtyard, but it seemed not.
Françoise passed through the planting of the patio. The hem of her skirt swept across the broad leaves of the turtleback bamboo, as if a ripple rippled through the green pond, bringing Jen back to reality.
“Something on your mind that you even resisted the scenery and food?” Françoise took a seat next to Jen and tasted his untouched pastry, “What’s done is done, what’s the use of thinking about one when he’s dead.”
The man’s eyebrows were furrowed, and he took a look at what Fran was eating with pleasure, but he remained unmoved. “When the mantis catches the cicada, the bird is right behind. The problem seems to be solved, who knows what other danger is hidden.”
Just as the words were out of his mouth, a few birds chattered from the top of the patio, and Jen looked around alertly until Fran’s hand swept up to cup his face.
She looked at this childish yet sophisticated face, still the same after all these years as when she had first seen him in the ballroom in Paris. She remembered that when he spoke to her, she expected something stupid to come out of his mouth with a Chinese or Japanese accent so that she could laugh at him – this guy with his hair slicked back but had a short, boyish face. She thought Jen’s mind was as shallow and easy to understand as his eyes. Until now, he still looks that way, or seems to look that way, if you don’t read those eyes carefully.
“It’s not too late to think of solutions when hidden problems arise, isn’t improvisation your specialty?” Fran turned back and gestured with her chin to the smiling Maitreya Buddha statue on the cabinet, “Look, the Buddha agrees.”
Jen closed his eyes and his lips curved, as if he had taken in Fran’s words. But then he said: “Old Huang and his son also knew that prophecy, do not forget.”
Fran drew her hand back at once. The wind grew cooler as the day grew darker, making her shiver. “You must leave it.”
Jen glanced at the statue of the Buddha sitting in meditation, his body leaning uneasily on the arm of the rattan chair: “Buddha or saint, who really blessed me with a smooth sailing? Giving me this position but then saying that the future will come to the hands of the Huang’s offspring, I dare to say from the beginning, no one intended to write peace in my name. I’m afraid I’m just a sacrificial lamb, a stepping stone for the future of that boy of Huang.”
Fran did not argue, anxiety soon spread to her mind as well. When did she ever really believe in these smiling Eastern gods? In the end, the prophecy was just an excuse to urge Jen to seize power, and she had always been the one who believed in taking the initiative to win.
“So what are you going to do?”
Jen stared out at the patio again. Fran followed his gaze, and there was a scorpion, crawling down the clay flower pot. She was startled and got up from her chair.
“The other day, a maid said she saw a snake in the courtyard, we need to find someone to sort it out.” As she stared nervously at the vicious-looking animal slinking away into the foliage, Fran felt Jen’s arms wrap around her from behind, but she couldn’t seem to feel the warmth of his body. Perhaps his tone was too cold: “The snakes and scorpions in the yard are to be removed, but not the snakes and scorpions in my heart.”
Fran stiffened, and Jen loosened his arm as if sensing something. Turning her head, his face in the light of the dusk looked so gentle and somehow at ease.
“As evil as they are, they know very well who their prey is. Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure things are done before you hear anything.” He leaned his head closer to her, “I won’t forget what I promised you.”
Fran closed her eyes as the faint scent of jasmine hair oil from Jen’s hair filled her nostrils. She knew he would do anything for what she wanted, because as proud as he is being the oldest son of his family, he would always feel inadequate in front of Fran, so he did everything he could just to be near her, to stay by her side, as if that would make him more like her. She asked herself countless times about whether she was just using Jen to achieve her goals, but the truth is that he enjoyed that, so why not?
She wasn’t surprised this time either. He made up his mind instantly with Fran’s tacit “What are you going to do?” She was enough as a reason for him.
Only this time she wasn’t sure that’s what she wants anymore.