Chapter 28: The Revelation

“The tenth of next month,” Xue Huaijin replied without suspicion, tasting the soup before answering slowly.

“The tenth day of the eleventh month,” Han Shuwei spoke up before Liu Chuyan could, “That’s the same day as Cousin’s birthday.”

The tenth day of the eleventh month... Liu Chuyan fell silent for an instant; her entanglement was with Xue Ao, a fated bond, but fortunately, they were not born in the same year.

“Shuwei, it’s only the same day, not the same year. Second Master Xue is older than me.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Han Shuwei agreed, nodding, “Second Master Xue is five years older than you.”

Xue Huayu was startled for a moment, then clapped her hands and laughed, “What a coincidence! Though Second Brother is five years older than you, your birthdays fall on the same month and day. People born on the same year, month, and day are rare enough, but even sharing the same month and day isn’t easy to find. I haven’t met anyone who shares my birthday yet; such luck!”

She laughed, though in her heart she sighed—it was a pity it wasn’t eldest brother, or she could have steered the conversation toward him.

Liu Chuyan clearly showed little interest in Xue Ao, and since she now had the necessary birth dates, she could quietly calculate them later: “So Second Master Xue is five years older than I am, which means he is six years older than Huaijin. I heard Duke of Xinguo is two years older than Second Master Xue, is that so?”

“Yes, but my eldest brother was born at the end of the year, so if you calculate carefully, he’s only one year and a bit older.” Xue Huayu noticed Liu Chuyan’s inquiry about Xue Tan’s age and began to calculate in her mind. Though Liu Chuyan concealed her feelings well, it was clear she favored Xue Tan. Yet, many women liked the eldest brother, while few ever took a fancy to the second. In her view, Xue Ao’s single status was his own doing—he never so much as glanced at women, and was never pleasant with any young lady he spoke to. Without the help of elders, it would be a miracle if he ever found a wife.

Having already asked about Xue Ao’s exact birth date, Liu Chuyan could not press further about Xue Tan, and neither Xue Huaijin nor her sister showed any intention of volunteering information. She could only maintain an air of composure. Otherwise, asking too many questions would lower her standing, and that was not worth the risk.

Liu Chuyan refrained from asking, but Xue Huayu grew anxious, wishing to continue the conversation, only to be checked by a glance from Xue Huaijin.

No one spoke, so the group quietly finished their midday meal. Only Han Shuwei failed to notice the undercurrents, occasionally making ill-timed jokes. But everyone’s thoughts were elsewhere; no one paid attention to her words.

After dining at the Duke’s residence, Liu Chuyan learned that Zhao Panyu had come to Xue Ao out of desperation and was still begging, hoping for leniency. He had succeeded young, aided by his mentor, and at twenty-six became the Prefect of Shuntian, a third-rank official, yet wielding great power over the capital’s affairs—even the highest-ranking officials would show him respect. But because of a screen, he had fallen hard, and the one handling the corruption case was none other than his old adversary, Xue Ao. The Right Censor had benefited from him but did nothing; Zhao Panyu sent people to beg the powerful Nine Thousand Years, but with little acquaintance between them, there was no help to be found—only trouble.

Worst of all, his beloved mentor, his greatest support, had passed away. Former “close friends” now rushed to distance themselves, fearing involvement. Even his wife’s family, the Marquis of Enchang’s household, were disappointed, detaining their daughter and grandson who came for help. When Zhao Panyu tried to visit, he was barred from entering, unable even to fetch his wife and child.

Truly, there was nowhere left to turn. Zhao Panyu thought he still had leverage over Xue Ao and came to try his luck, hoping to intimidate him. But Xue Ao was unfazed; if not for Zhao’s offense to the young ladies, Xue Ao wouldn’t have bothered to see him. Once the ladies had been escorted away, Xue Ao ordered his men to throw Zhao Panyu out.

Under such circumstances, Zhao Panyu could only leave in disgrace.

Liu Chuyan listened as her maid animatedly described Zhao Panyu’s pitiful state, feeling a pang of pity. Once so prominent, now abandoned and pushed down when he fell. Hearing he had left, she stepped outside to check the sky, only to find rain imminent. The sun had vanished, clouds darkened, hiding the orange light from beyond the heavens. The clouds sank lower and lower, heavy as if about to fall. In a blink, a fierce wind arose, shaking the trees in the courtyard and scattering blue and yellow leaves.

“Shuwei, it’s about to rain, and heavily, too. Let’s hurry home before it truly starts.” Liu Chuyan brushed her wind-tousled hair aside, but leaves continued to fall at her feet. She bent to pick them up and found they were magnolia leaves blown from Xue Ao’s Prudent Pavilion. At the thought of Xue Ao, goosebumps prickled her skin, yet she couldn’t bear to discard them. Back in Hangzhou, three magnolia trees stood at her door, planted by her mother. Their lotus magnolia branches were strong, leaves thick and broad. Every May, noble white blossoms would bloom—rare and sparse, but more fragrant than rows of gardenias. Their scent was distinct, rich if one focused, but otherwise just a faint fragrance, blooming like lotuses in sunlight and rain, never overwhelming.

Now, holding two magnolia leaves again, she found herself unwilling to let them go.

While she lingered in memory, the distant clouds turned entirely black, and with a thunderous crash, the rain poured down.

“Cousin, it’s pouring…” Han Shuwei reached out, only to be stung by the heavy raindrops and quickly withdrew, pulling Liu Chuyan indoors, “Don’t get wet, cousin. Autumn rain is cold; if you catch a chill, you’ll surely get sick.”

Xue Huaijin watched the torrential rain, uncertain how long it would last, and stepped forward, “Sister Chuyan, why not stay here today? I have guest rooms in the courtyard, more than enough for you both.”

“That won’t do. My aunt is waiting for us at home,” Liu Chuyan refused, frowning, but softened her tone, “Huaijin, I know you mean well, but we really can’t stay overnight.”

“I know you’re worried about your aunt, but just look at this weather—such heavy rain. If anything happens on the road, I couldn’t bear the responsibility, and Lady Han wouldn’t agree either. Stay here, I’ll send someone to the Marquis of Wukang’s residence to inform them, don’t worry.”

“Huaijin…” Liu Chuyan tried to protest, but Xue Huaijin had already sent a servant to notify the Marquis’s residence.

Xue Huaijin saw Han Shuwei’s embarrassment, clearly not expecting to be unable to return today. Liu Chuyan watched the curtain of water under the eaves, listened to the deafening rain on the tiles, and felt deeply troubled. She quietly signaled to Xue Huayu, and the two sisters sat together on the couch.

Seated, Liu Chuyan withdrew her gaze from the window, fixated on the magnolia leaves in her hand, lips pressed in silence.

“Sister Chuyan, are those lotus magnolia leaves? Though blown down by the wind, they’re perfectly intact. I heard magnolia leaves can be made into bookmarks, but I don’t know how. Just now Huayu said you love those lotus magnolias and surely know how to make them.”

Liu Chuyan glanced at the leaves, larger than her palm, and smiled lightly, “The last time I made a bookmark was in Hangzhou. It’s been years; I wonder if I remember how.”

“Elder sister, you’re clever and have a good memory—surely you remember. If not, I’ll ask my second brother. He’s skilled at it, but always keeps them for himself and never gives us any. Sister Chuyan, please make one for me,” Xue Huaijin pleaded, imitating a child, shaking her arm, “Sister Chuyan, I’m begging you.”

“Sister Chuyan, I want one too.” Xue Huayu pressed close, taking the magnolia leaves from her hand, admiring them, “Such jade-like leaves—it’s no wonder you love them, and Second Brother treasures them.”

Liu Chuyan thought the leaves were indeed perfect for bookmarks; she wouldn’t have such convenience at the Marquis’s residence, so she nodded, “Huaijin, prepare some boiling water and a soft brush, absorbent paper, pale green gauze, and scissors.”

“Alright.” Xue Huaijin, always efficient, immediately ordered the items.

Though Liu Chuyan was rusty, some skills never fade. She was clumsy at first, but soon grew adept. After about half an hour, the leaf bookmarks were finished. The green leaves retained their veins, dried and pressed within translucent green gauze, cut to the shape and sewn together—nearly identical to the original. After several treatments, the bookmarks would last, needing no additional measures or risk of decay.

Xue Huaijin, observing the beautiful bookmarks closely for the first time, was overjoyed, “Sister Chuyan, you’re wonderful. Now that I know how, I’ll sneak into Second Brother’s courtyard and make some myself.”

Xue Huayu was even happier with her bookmark, but since Liu Chuyan had only picked two intact leaves, she gave them away and had none left for herself. She went outside to check, but all the leaves in the courtyard were muddy and torn. After a moment’s thought, she turned to Liu Chuyan, “Sister Chuyan, I’ll pick a few good leaves from Second Brother’s courtyard so you can make more and take them home.”

“No need,” Liu Chuyan hurried to stop her, fearing Xue Ao would find out and blame her for inciting Huayu, causing his displeasure.

Yet Xue Huayu, stubborn as ever, was not to be restrained. She called for a maid with an umbrella and a servant to escort her to the Prudent Pavilion.

Liu Chuyan waited anxiously, hoping Xue Ao wasn’t there or was asleep, and that Huayu wouldn’t be caught.

But fate always loves to play tricks. No sooner had she sat down than Xue Ao returned, dragging Xue Huayu along, her hand gripping a branch with a few dripping leaves. But her bookmark had ended up in Xue Ao’s hands, and she was loudly demanding its return.

Xue Ao ignored her, handing Huayu to Xue Huaijin before stepping in front of Liu Chuyan, his face dark, “Did you make this bookmark?”

Did he think making a bookmark sullied his magnolia tree? Liu Chuyan mocked inwardly, but forced herself to remain composed, curtsying, “The leaves were blown in by the wind. Huaijin and Huayu asked me to make bookmarks for them, so I...”

“Just answer me—is this your work?” Xue Ao interrupted bluntly, his voice trembling slightly, as if filled with expectation.

Liu Chuyan didn’t care why he insisted on clarity, forbidding her explanation, and responded with her head bowed, “Yes.”

Xue Ao seemed unconvinced, turning the bookmark over and over, then comparing it with Huaijin’s. This was her handiwork—she could indeed make such bookmarks. But she... Could it really be? Was fate toying with him?

Liu Chuyan, gathering courage, raised her eyes slightly, seeing him staring at the bookmark, shocked and incredulous. After pondering, she turned to Xue Huaijin, “Huaijin, the rain has eased—just a light drizzle now. I’ll return home and not trouble you further.”

“How could it be trouble? Don’t let Second Brother frighten you—he’s always like this...” Xue Huayu tried to keep her from leaving, whispering complaints about Xue Ao.

Han Shuwei, also intimidated by Xue Ao, murmured, “Cousin, let’s go home. Before we left, my mother insisted we return early.”

“Yes.” Liu Chuyan agreed, nodding, “Huayu, let’s leave early today and visit again next time.”

“When’s next time? Tomorrow?” Xue Huayu pouted, unable to keep them, so she scheduled their next visit.

Xue Ao hesitated for a moment, then stuffed the bookmark into Liu Chuyan’s arms, “It’s still raining outside, the roads are slippery and unsafe. I’ll escort you home.”

Author’s note: La la la, la la la~ The male lead has already...