Chapter 70: First Kiss

Although Liu Chuyan had sensed something amiss, she could not be certain and could only keep her guard up, planning to warn Lin Jinhuan when the opportunity arose.

Before they reached the waterside pavilion, however, the old maidservant had already slipped away unnoticed.

Xue Huaiyu caught sight of this and sneered, “That old shrew! Mother assigned her to serve us, but she’s always shirking her duties. If not for her many years in this household, I’d have sent her packing long ago.”

Liu Chuyan felt puzzled. Could it be that she was mistaken? Perhaps the old maidservant harbored no ill intentions toward Lin Jinhuan at all. She glanced at Xueyao, the chief maid, but found her calm and unruffled, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Looking around, Liu Chuyan noticed there were only a handful of servants along the path to the pavilion, and not a single errand boy in sight. True, propriety demanded that servants keep their distance when young ladies were present, but even from afar, there was hardly a soul to be seen. How strange, she thought. What an odd day in the Duke of Xing’s household.

“Cousin, what are you thinking about?” Lin Jinhuan, supported by the Xue sisters, was walking ahead. Han Shuwei fell into step beside Liu Chuyan, noticing her thoughtful expression and asking in confusion.

“It’s nothing,” Liu Chuyan replied, shaking her head. After a moment’s thought, she added, “Just remember to mind yourself later. Don’t speak out of turn, and don’t wander about. Understand?” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to say this, but she could only feel at ease after giving the warning.

Han Shuwei was about to question her further when Xue Huaijin’s sharp voice rang out: “Where did you come from, bold girl? How dare you touch my tea set without permission?”

They turned to see a maid in the pavilion clumsily arranging the table, spilling water in the process.

“Sister’s tea set is always handled by Zhirong. Where is she?” Xue Huaiyu cast a glance around and scolded loudly, “These maids are lazier by the day. They really do need a good lesson.”

The scolded maid immediately dropped to her knees with a thud. “First Miss, Second Miss, please calm your anger. I am Zhirong’s cousin; she’s ill today and sent me in her place. I’m clumsy and have displeased you. I’ll fetch Cousin Zhirong right away—please, don’t blame me.”

“Zhirong is ill? She was perfectly fine just yesterday,” Xue Huaijin said incredulously. However, with guests present, she could not be too harsh. She refrained from demanding Zhirong’s presence but also forbade the substitute maid from touching anything further, summoning another servant instead.

The maid, having received no further orders, didn’t know whether to stay or leave and stood outside the pavilion, head bowed, silent and uneasy.

“Cousin Jinhuan, Sister Chuyan, Shuwei, all the maids in our household have grown sly and unruly. You must think it laughable. Come, let’s sit,” Xue Huaijin said with a bright smile, masking her suspicion at the guests’ uneasy faces.

Liu Chuyan and the others took their seats.

Xue Huaiyu, finding the pavilion crowded, suggested that the maids accompanying Liu Chuyan and her cousins wait elsewhere to eat fruit and drink tea, so as not to be a nuisance. After all, between the two sisters, there were already six maids, and with Xueyao from Madam Xue’s side, that made seven—more than enough.

Although Xue Huaiyu’s words were less than pleasant, Liu Chuyan had no choice but to comply. Lin Jinhuan and Han Shuwei were even less likely to protest, and so Songling and the other maids were led away.

With the servants gone, the pavilion grew noticeably more spacious. Lin Jinhuan gradually relaxed and, prompted by Xue Huaiyu, drank quite a bit of tea.

Han Shuwei, out for a change of scenery, dared not be too forward. She whispered a few scattered secrets to Liu Chuyan, her eyes darting about as if searching for someone.

“Shuwei, behave yourself,” Liu Chuyan admonished, seeing through her little schemes. “Have you forgotten all the etiquette Madame Tutor taught you?”

Han Shuwei, though indignant, had to concede that Liu Chuyan was right. She pouted and fell silent for a while.

The group chatted idly and laughed, and about half an hour passed. Liu Chuyan herself began to relax.

Suddenly, Lin Jinhuan clutched her stomach and complained of discomfort. Alarmed, Liu Chuyan rushed to steady her, but Lin Jinhuan waved her off with a smile. “It’s only that I’ve had too much tea. I’ll just have someone show me to the rest room.”

Relieved, Liu Chuyan nodded. Xueyao looked around and pointed at the maid standing by the door. “You, take Miss Lin to the rest room.”

The maid, having nothing to do outside the pavilion and fearing Xue Huaijin’s temper, was glad to be given a task. She respectfully led Lin Jinhuan away.

With that, the conversation turned to Liu Chuyan’s upcoming birthday. The Xue sisters began a lively discussion of the most eligible bachelors in the capital, offering her all sorts of unsolicited advice—now praising this young master’s family, now extolling another’s good looks. Too young to take offense, Liu Chuyan could only endure the teasing, unable to respond and almost dying of embarrassment. Fortunately, as Xue Huaijin had said, the Xue brothers were nowhere to be seen. As long as they weren’t present, the girls could joke freely, so long as their names were not mentioned.

Before long, a young maid from Madam Xue’s quarters arrived, announcing that the lady wished to see Miss Liu privately.

Liu Chuyan’s heart skipped a beat. What could Madam Xue want to speak about? Could it concern Xue Ao or Xue Tan? Surely this was no ordinary conversation. Yet, whatever her suspicions, she could voice none of them. She simply told Han Shuwei to behave herself, then followed the maid away.

As for Lin Jinhuan, after leaving the rest room, she soon realized she was lost. The maid, who had seemed familiar with the way, now appeared confused, leading her through winding paths and turning corners, until Lin Jinhuan no longer recognized where she was.

At last they entered a garden lush with greenery. Lin Jinhuan stopped and demanded, “What is this place? Where are you taking me?”

The maid kept her head down and continued straight ahead, mumbling, “Miss, I must have taken a wrong turn earlier. If we cut through this garden, it’s a shortcut back. Please don’t tell First or Second Miss, or I’ll be scolded again.”

Her tone was plaintive, and Lin Jinhuan—soft-hearted as ever—sighed and agreed, gathering her skirts to follow.

This garden was truly strange. Here, a cluster of bamboo; there, a group of holly bushes. Even the water was filled with unfamiliar lotuses. The pavilions and bridges were all constructed of verdant bamboo, which, though cut, had somehow been treated to remain vibrant green rather than yellowing with age. The entire garden was awash in green, reflected in the water until the pond itself gleamed like jade. Yet amidst all the trees and water, not a single flower could be seen, making the scene somewhat monotonous. What purpose could this secluded green garden serve in the depths of the Duke’s estate?

Following the maid across a bamboo bridge, Lin Jinhuan realized the lotus pond below was fed by live water—and that it spanned nearly thirty paces. The bridge rose two fathoms above the surface. After a few steps, dizziness overtook her. She closed her eyes to steady herself and, upon opening them, caught sight of someone fishing from a boat not far off.

His appearance was immaculate—brows like brushstrokes, features delicate as peach petals, radiant as flowing light and flawless as gold or jade. It could only be him. Reclining lazily in the boat, he held his fishing rod with casual indifference.

Lin Jinhuan had seen him before, yet each time he was impeccably dressed, seated upright in his wheelchair, his expression perpetually poised between a smile and a smirk, lips curved as if frozen in place. Now, however, Xue Tan wore only a simple white robe, his sleek black hair accentuating his gentle, unhurried demeanor—like a carefree immortal at leisure.

As Lin Jinhuan stared in a daze, the maid behind her quietly reached out and tugged at her sash from the side. Just as Lin Jinhuan noticed her collar had come undone and turned to fix it, she felt a sudden weight at her waist—her footing slipped, and she tumbled into the water.

No outsiders were permitted in Xue Tan’s garden; not even a pageboy was allowed in. It never occurred to him that anyone might be on the bridge—or that someone would fall into the pond.

He heard a maid cry out, “Oh no! Miss Lin has fallen into the water!” Then the maid fled in a panic, presumably to seek help.

“Help! Help!” Lin Jinhuan screamed as she floundered—she couldn’t swim, and her clothes had come loose. Desperately, she tried to hold her collar closed but failed; after calling for help twice, she sank beneath the surface.

Ordinarily, such a rescue would not fall to Xue Tan himself. But with no one else present, he set his jaw, braced himself against the boat’s edge, and dove into the water, using his arms to propel himself toward her.

His legs were of little use, so his progress was slow—and with the garden so vast, there was no telling when anyone might arrive if that maid truly sought help. He could only persevere. Fortunately, the pond was not deep, and Lin Jinhuan was only about fifteen paces away.

By the time he managed to drag her to the shore, she was still breathing, though her stomach was distended with swallowed water.

When he saw who it was, he frowned in surprise and patted her cheek. “Jinhuan, cousin, Jinhuan…” After falling into the water, she had even managed to shed her outer garments—a feat for the ages. As she lay there, only her underbodice covered her upper body, and her drawers had ridden up her thighs. Her embroidered shoes were gone, thin silk stockings soaked through, exposing a stretch of pale calf.

He was frantic—here was a life-or-death situation, and still no one had come to help. Was he truly to handle this himself?

But Lin Jinhuan’s complexion was worsening, tinged with blue.

Xue Tan had no choice. He stripped off his own robe, covered her with it, and began pressing her stomach through the fabric. Yet, though the water gushed out, her breathing grew weaker.

All sense of propriety forgotten, he could not let her die for the sake of decorum. Besides, there was no one else around. For the first time, Xue Tan felt a twinge of guilt as he glanced around his private garden, then gently pinched Lin Jinhuan’s delicate nose and bent down, his cold lips pressing to hers.

The medical books said this method should work—surely they wouldn’t lie to him?

When Lin Jinhuan fell into the water, she felt as though she was about to join her departed parents, dragged downward by some unseen force. Then, suddenly, something gripped her waist and pulled her from the icy depths. Yet her chest remained heavy, full of water—cold and suffocating. Someone pressed on her chest and stomach, expelling the water, but her breathing only grew fainter. At last, someone’s lips touched hers, sending a fragrant, sweet, and unfamiliar breath into her mouth—reminiscent of her father, but also utterly unlike him.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a pair of closed ones above her—long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. His face was pale as jade, yet seemed to glow with an inner light, as if carved from the finest mutton-fat jade.