Chapter 36: Reminiscence

This pendant was a gift from my cousin Jun Cheng. It has been nine years since we parted that day. I wonder if Jun Cheng is still sulking with his mother, or if he still argues with his father as before. He was always a good elder brother to me; when we were confronted by bandits, he shielded me the whole time. He took the blows and kicks himself, never letting me suffer so much as a scratch, and managed to help me escape. Unfortunately, he was never strong, and after only a few steps he fell ill. I had no choice but to drag him into a cave to hide and wait for help.

I have no idea where he is now, or how he fares. He surely does not know of my current circumstances, but compared to my previous life, I am content. Even in hardship, I still have hope; my great-aunt is still with me, and Zhao Panyu is about to be imprisoned. It’s just that some matters have arisen in the General’s estate recently, and my situation has been put aside for the time being. Yet once these troubles are resolved, everything will go smoothly. The General’s estate has stood for centuries and will not be felled by any storm now.

The jade Guanyin in my palm glimmered faintly in the orange glow of the lamp, its features gentle and compassionate, as if radiating the silent, nourishing mercy of water’s highest virtue.

That night, Liu Chuyan remained anxious, fearing Xue Ao might cause some disturbance, but he was unusually quiet—not even a cough escaped him.

The next day, Liu Chuyan left Song Ling in her room and went off to play with the Han sisters.

“Chuyan, I heard you asked the kitchen for food last night after you returned—were you not satisfied at the banquet?” Han Shujing fiddled with some wild grass the maid had gathered for her, laughing mischievously.

“The dishes at the banquet were simply too delicious. The food sent to the estate cannot compare to what is freshly prepared here, so I indulged a little.”

“That’s true. I heard you love the millet porridge here; you had two big bowls this morning, when you usually barely finish half a bowl. This estate’s rice must really be something special,” Han Shujing teased.

Liu Chuyan noticed how every word was about food, as if Han Shujing had noticed something amiss, but seeing no change in her expression, she blushed nervously.

“Please don’t tease cousin anymore, sister. I had two small bowls myself this morning. The food here truly is tastier than at home,” Han Shuwei said, linking arms with Han Shujing as the three of them sat in the courtyard enjoying fresh aloe jelly. “Sister, you seem especially cheerful today—did mother tell you some good news?”

Liu Chuyan took a sip of aloe jelly and, hearing Han Shuwei’s words, looked up in surprise. Sure enough, Han Shujing’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes smiling, unable to hide her delight. “Cousin, what’s the good news? You can’t keep it from us.”

“There’s nothing, don’t listen to Shuwei’s nonsense,” Han Shujing denied, but her guilty blinking and rosy cheeks betrayed her.

“Don’t think you can fool us just because we’re younger. I heard it myself this morning,” Han Shuwei pouted in protest.

“You must have heard wrong.”

“How could I? Mother came looking for you first thing this morning. I happened to be passing by and heard her laughing with joy. I eavesdropped from outside the door,” Han Shuwei said slyly, winking at Liu Chuyan.

Liu Chuyan joined in the commotion. “Cousin, you can’t trick us—Shuwei heard everything.”

“Come on, confess, or we’ll have to interrogate you!” Han Shuwei pressed relentlessly.

With no alternative, Han Shujing dismissed the attendant maids. “Do you remember when we went to the General’s estate for a banquet?”

“Yes, of course.”

“During the banquet, I went to offer aunt a cup of tea, and Madam Zhou asked me a few questions.”

“She did,” Han Shuwei waited for more, but Liu Chuyan had already caught on.

“Madam Zhou’s eldest daughter-in-law died of illness last year, and the young master has yet to remarry. After meeting you, perhaps he’s taken a liking to you?”

“That’s exactly it. My mother is delighted. After all, I’ve been married before, and though I’ve returned to my family, the gossip lingers. Madam Zhou brought it up with my mother, and they agreed at once. But my father objects—he thinks being married to an imperial guard is beneath me.”

“Second uncle is a bit too proud. The young master of the Zhou family is an imperial guard at court with a bright future ahead. He’s only twenty-seven and, if he gains favor, might even become commander of the imperial guards one day.”

“But my father says that being twenty-seven and still only an imperial guard means he lacks ability. Now, he only has his grandmother and mother above him, one daughter, and a brother with no achievements. The rest of his relatives have neither power nor influence. My father doesn’t think much of him,” Han Shujing said, massaging her temples in distress.

“And what do you think, cousin?”

“Sister must have met him before, right? I recall when brother-in-law—well, the one from the Lin family—was alive, he attended the old madam’s birthday banquet. I caught a glimpse of him then—handsome, courteous, though not very eloquent.”

“You know everything,” Han Shujing laughed, poking her sister’s forehead.

“Now that Shuwei mentions it, I remember—he’s a fine man. I heard he doted on his late wife; even though they only had a daughter after three years, he never took another concubine, and the maids never rose in status, which shows his devotion. Sadly, his wife passed away young,” Liu Chuyan sighed.

“Yes, it’s been a year already,” Han Shujing echoed, lamenting the capriciousness of fate.

“Does great-aunt know about this?”

Han Shujing brightened at Liu Chuyan’s question. “She does; my mother told her last night.”

“And what did great-aunt say?”

“She frowned and thought deeply last night, but this morning she called my mother over again, asked a few more questions, and finally agreed.”

“No wonder you’re so happy, sister. This really is a joyous occasion.” Han Shuwei, who harbored an inexplicable fondness for the Zhou family’s young master, was thrilled at the prospect of her sister marrying him.

Han Shujing smiled, but then her brows drew together.

“What’s wrong, cousin?”

“You both said he was devoted to his late wife and mourned her for a year. What if his heart belongs only to her? Besides, it’s only Madam Zhou pushing for this; he hasn’t shown any intention himself. Even if he marries me, it might just be to satisfy his mother. The more I think about it, the less certain I feel, and that girlish hope vanishes,” Han Shujing said, her worries growing.

“Sister, that’s unlikely. He’s a man, after all; he can’t mourn his wife forever. He only has a daughter and must remarry for the sake of his family line. Men are all the same—no matter how deep their feelings, time heals, and he’ll forget. If you marry him, you’re a living, breathing person. Besides, you’re far more beautiful than his late wife—he’s bound to be captivated and will devote himself to you,” Han Shuwei said bluntly, trying to comfort her, though Han Shujing was only more displeased.

“Cousin, there’s no need to rush. It’s best to have someone look into his character first. If he’s still caught up in the past and can’t treat a new wife well, then let it go—especially since second uncle disapproves. But if after all this time he’s ready to move on and marry again, then that’s the best outcome,” Liu Chuyan said, gently placing her hand on Han Shujing’s for comfort.

“You’re right—there’s not even an official proposal yet, and here I am worrying myself sick. How embarrassing,” Han Shujing said, patting her cheeks in shame.

“There’s no need to reproach yourself, cousin. It’s a good thing you have the heart to think of these things. Still, a good match takes patience. You’re a lady of the Marquis of Wukang’s house; even as a widow, you’re above ordinary girls.”

Han Shujing nodded, smiling with relief.

The three of them enjoyed some desserts, and before long it was time for lunch. Afterward, Liu Chuyan, as usual, had to ask for food to take back to Xue Ao. But she’d asked so many times it was beginning to arouse suspicion, so she had Song Ling do it instead. However, when Song Ling made the request, the dishes were not as good.

Still, she thought, since he’s freeloading here, how can he be picky? Let him have it just like this. Liu Chuyan signaled to Song Ling to take the food up as it was. Song Ling looked at the bowl, feeling uneasy—it was worse than before, not even a trace of minced meat left—yet her young mistress seemed perfectly at ease.

Seeing the oily, meager fare, Xue Ao couldn’t help but frown, but glancing down at himself, he resigned himself to his lot. After all, as the proverb goes, a man under another’s roof must bow his head. Fortunately, his beloved was just below, within sight. As he ate with difficulty, he pondered how to salvage his ruined image. Their relationship was strained at the moment, and he dared not speak of their childhood memories, lest it ruin their past happiness. Best to win her over first, then surprise her. Otherwise, if the timing isn’t right, a surprise becomes a shock, and that’s far from ideal.

Liu Chuyan worried he might be picky, but to her astonishment, Song Ling soon returned with an empty bowl—every grain gone. She stared in disbelief: “Second Master Xue finished it all?”

“Yes, and he also asked me to thank you for your hospitality,” Song Ling replied, clearly noticing Liu Chuyan’s awkward blinking, her guilt and anxiety thinly veiled. Song Ling hid a smile as she carried the bowl out to Qing He.

Liu Chuyan’s expression froze; she couldn’t even muster a smile. “Hospitality”? Was this sarcasm, a sign he’d remember this slight? If she’d known, she would have given him something better—what if he really seeks revenge?

Upstairs, Xue Ao lay on his bed, peering through a gap in the floorboards. He watched her, both shy and angry, twisting her handkerchief and stamping her foot. She was utterly adorable; he longed to pinch her rosy cheek. That green embroidered dress suited her so well—her face flushed, lips like cherry blossom, eyes limpid as water, like a pink lotus blooming atop a jade leaf.

Why had he never noticed her beauty before? Was it that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder?

After all, she was the girl he’d carried in his heart for so many years.

Author’s note: Yesterday, San Yue Mu Xue falsely accused Qing Ge Yi Pian of plagiarism, though in truth, when Qing Ge Yi Pian first started writing, she only borrowed some character settings, which hardly counts as plagiarism. But now, as justice would have it, today San Yue Mu Xue has been exposed by netizens for plagiarizing the famous scriptwriter Li Mei’s (Weibo: Li Mei Stories) “Red Beauty Through the Ages” in her novel “Enchanting Rivers and Mountains”—hardly a sentence was her own. Truly, a thief crying “stop thief.”

Now San Yue Mu Xue, feeling guilty, has changed her Weibo name to “From Now On, Just a Passerby xxx,” and has started deleting old posts—including those defamatory ones with fake apologies. But no matter how much she deletes, her actions cannot be erased. The truth will come out, and I am greatly comforted. I wish Qing Ge Yi Pian well, and hope she will no longer be troubled by such mundane affairs and that her family remains healthy.