Instinctively, I shrank back.
On his resolute face, a trace of concern was stirring.
He was so close to me that I could smell the autumn wild tea on him. Untamed. Fierce and surging.
My face flushed before I knew it.
I had already guessed his identity. Instead, that made me all the more shy. The mountain apricot in my heart had borne fruit, trembling upon the branch; I stood beneath the tree, yet was too timid to reach out and pluck it.
He was my husband. The husband my mother had betrothed me to when I was young. I had entered his chambers, paid respects to his elders, seen his handwriting, slept in his bed. Yet I had never imagined that the scene of our meeting would be like this.
The papers at his cuff slipped down. They were densely covered in writing and bright-red handprints.
I glanced at them, and only then realized they were not banknotes.
Vaguely, I seemed to understand what he meant to do.
I had heard Qin Mingxu say that he had been acquainted with that Lord Xun who had been beheaded, and this time he had nearly died in a bloody calamity as well. Perhaps this document was the reason he had been hiding outside and refusing to show himself. He wanted to find a way to send it out, to deliver it to someone of vital importance.
Noticing my expression, he said softly, “A true man is born between heaven and earth, reads the books of sages, and nurtures a noble, upright spirit. There are many things I must do. Perhaps you do not understand now, but there will be time enough ahead; I will tell you slowly. Return to the manor, and do not speak of this to anyone. Just pretend I am gone. The matter is not yet accomplished; the fewer who know, the better.”
I nodded.
“The documents are hidden among the cargo boats entering the capital. Is there someone in the capital to receive them?”
“Yes. Lord Geng, the Censorate’s supervising censor of the granary, was an old acquaintance of Lord Xun in life.”
He trusted me.
For such a grave matter, he no longer kept it from me.
We looked at one another, and an indescribable covenant seemed to form between us, like a bridge over a stream.
At some point, Wu Bi had returned and was greeting Qin Mingxu at the doorway.
The man beside me glanced outside, swiftly put on his black bamboo hat, and leapt out through the warehouse window.
Before leaving, he leaned by my ear and said one thing: “The road ahead is perilous. If I survive, Madam, I, Cheng Lao’er, owe you a wedding night.”
A long while later, I touched my cheek. It was burning hot.
I rose and pulled open the door. Wu Bi cupped his hands. “Second Young Madam.”
I said, “Today, two boats of goods are being sent to the capital. You must be especially careful. Keep a close watch at the ferry landing.”
Wu Bi understood. “Yes.”
The cargo boats would travel north along the canal transport route. At every stop along the way, the local officials would verify and sign off on them, serving as the canal boats’ passes. Once the fleet reached Chongwen Gate wharf in the capital, the officials in charge of canal transport would still have to check and approve them; only after they jointly signed could the cargo be unloaded.
That tea brick concealing the papers had to pass through layer after layer of inspection.
Not a single step could go wrong.
After Wu Bi left, my heart was still suspended in unease.
Qin Mingxu looked at me and said, “I came to the counter to look for you. The shop assistant said you were in the warehouse, so I came over. I called several times and no one answered. I was even worried something had happened to you inside.”
I answered indifferently, as if everything in the warehouse just now had never happened. “I was counting goods in the warehouse and actually did not hear the sounds outside. Young Master Qin came to find me—may I ask what for?”
“I…” He slapped his forehead, as if he had finally thought of an excuse. “The clothes you had made at Tiansheng Tower yesterday are ready. I heard you were at the counter, so I came to find you. The clothes are in the front hall now. Take a look; if they’re not to your liking, I’ll have the tailors alter them.”
“Young Master Qin could have had a shop assistant deliver them. There was no need to make the trip yourself.”
My distance was like a wall.
He suddenly smiled, leaned against the doorframe, and lifted his head. “Miss, actually, when we were on the boat, I saw your marriage contract.”
“You—”
He went on by himself. “When the bandits came, everyone on the boat was in chaos. The bundle your little maid was holding came undone and fell to the ground. I picked it up and returned it to her. Along the way, I had long since noticed you. The boat was rocking, and the people aboard had little appetite, yet you held a steamed bun and ate it so earnestly. You told your little maid, ‘When hungry, fill the belly; when thirsty, drink water; when tired, lie down and sleep. One must not leave desire any room.’ I have always remembered those words.”
I listened in silence.
The light in the passage outside the warehouse was dim and heavy, like a long, drawn-out dream.
In the dream were my days in the Zhu Manor.
My mother died when I was young, my stepmother entered the household, and my father ignored me year after year. All my joy and willfulness had been buried in the yellow earth along with my mother’s coffin. I never thought about what I wanted to obtain. Whatever was given to me, I held tightly. I never left desire any room.
“Miss, your husband passed away as soon as you married in. Are you truly willing to live a lifetime of sorrow?” Qin Mingxu looked at me.
I walked straight toward the door.
“Miss, if your husband were still alive, I would absolutely never say so much to you. A lifetime is long. Are you truly going to use all your years to fill a single sheet of marriage paper? I have thought it through. You… if one day, you wish to remarry, I, I, I can…”
I turned sharply and said coldly, “Young Master Qin, the more you speak, the more absurd you become.”
To remarry meant to take another husband.
This libertine was truly infuriating.
“Miss, I have been reckless for half my life, but I have never deceived you. I am serious.”
A gust of wind swept through the hall.
“Second Sister-in-law, so you’re here. I’ve had such a hard time finding you. How is your study of business going?”
The Third Miss came in with brisk, cheerful steps.
When she looked up and saw Qin Mingxu, the handkerchief in her hand twisted into a knot. She said in surprise, “Brother Mingxu, why are you here? Do you know my second sister-in-law?”
“We do.”
“We do not.”
Qin Mingxu and I spoke at the same time.
Yet our answers were completely opposite.
I glared at him, signaling that he had better not make trouble.
“Qingshi, Young Master Qin came to deliver some clothes,” I said.
“So that’s how it is.”
The Third Miss understood. She smiled and said to me, “Second Sister-in-law, the tailors at Tiansheng Tower are wonderfully skilled. But…”
She linked her arm through mine. “But even in coarse linen, Second Sister-in-law is still very beautiful, like the magnolia before the courtyard.”
Though she was speaking to me, the corner of her eye drifted toward Qin Mingxu.
Wanting to look, yet not quite looking.
Seeming near, yet still far away.
At last, she could not help saying, “Brother Mingxu, some days ago you went north. Was your journey smooth?”
Qin Mingxu seemed not to have come back to his senses yet and answered roughly, “Mm.”
The Third Miss said, “The paper kite I asked you to bring me from Qingzhou—did you bring it?”
“…I forgot,” Qin Mingxu said.
Disappointment surged onto the Third Miss’s face, then instantly ebbed away again. Cautiously, she said, “Brother Mingxu, at the beginning of next month, there will be a poetry contest at Qionghua Temple. Will you go?”
Qin Mingxu looked at her, then looked at me, and said, “Mm.”
The Third Miss’s eyes lit up. “Good. I’m going too. Brother Mingxu, you are always so busy; I can never find you…”
She seemed to have so many things she wanted to say.
The young servant Qin Mingxu had brought was calling him, as if something had happened. He cupped his hands and left.
The Third Miss leaned her face against my shoulder and said dejectedly, “Second Sister-in-law, why is Brother Mingxu always unwilling to say a few more words to me? Every time, he hurries away…”
I stroked her hair.
Her clear eyes looked at me. “Second Sister-in-law, what do you think of Brother Mingxu…?”
For a moment, I did not know how to answer her.
Matters of romance were like raising one’s head to see the moon, like meeting a clear wind head-on. The moon could not be carved; the wind could not be grasped. No matter who it was, no one could explain it clearly.
At this moment, I was only worried about Cheng Huaishi.
He was gambling with his life for the words “loyal and righteous.” Would there come a day when the clouds parted and the sun was seen?
For several days in a row, I followed Wu Bi to the counter every day to handle affairs. At dusk, I would always go to the ferry landing without realizing it, listening for news from the capital.
Hehua stayed by my side.
She always stood three feet away from me, neither too far nor too close.
Whatever instructions I had, she would immediately carry them out.
At first, I felt she was too cold. Once I grew used to it, I came to appreciate the goodness of her silence.
She was like the tiles on the eaves, the chair in the room, the brush on the rack, the ink in the inkstone—always there, always reassuring.
One day at the end of the month, I heard someone say that Lord Geng, the Censorate’s supervising censor of the granary, had been summoned by His Majesty to the Xingyun Temple temporary palace and had not emerged for two days.
My heart panicked, and I staggered back several steps. Hehua supported me.
That matter had been exposed after all.
The documents hidden in the Cheng family’s cargo boats had seen the light of day.
I only did not know whom His Majesty would believe.
On the first day of midwinter, dark clouds covered the sky.
I had just finished paying my respects to the Old Madam in the north courtyard.
A young servant from outside stumbled in to report: “Old Madam, many people from the Eastern Depot have come outside the manor…”
Everyone in the household turned pale with shock.
Who did not know how formidable the Eastern Depot’s methods were?
If the Eastern Depot wanted someone dead at the third watch, they would never leave him alive until the fifth.
“Could it be that something went wrong with Cang’er’s official errand…” The Old Madam rose tremblingly.
The Eldest Young Madam and I supported her to the doorway.
The person at the head of the group raised his head.
An incomparably beautiful, arrogant, unruly face.
It was actually Feng Gao, that blood-soaked young man from the carriage the other day.
He walked toward me, bowed, and said, “Elder Sister.”