Chapter Thirteen

Before Fengxiang Pavilion, the lantern riddle guessing had begun once again.

A tall platform was erected in front of the tavern, upon which stood a sturdy wooden frame adorned with countless glazed lanterns. The semi-translucent shades, inlaid with delicate glass panes, were as thin as cicada wings. Painted upon them were images of Chang’e, the Jade Rabbit, and the osmanthus tree, all dancing and flickering in the candlelight as if alive. Beneath each lantern hung a golden slip of paper, inscribed with the riddles set for this very night.

A crowd had already gathered to watch the spectacle. Song Xingyue and her companions had happened upon the event and decided to stay.

Although she had caught a glimpse of Ji Jianyun earlier, her mind remained unsettled. Yet, fearing that Xie Linshu might notice her distraction, she dared not reveal her feelings and pretended as if nothing had happened.

Xie Linshu’s face remained cold and impassive throughout. Song Xingyue was unsure whether he had even noticed Ji Jianyun’s presence.

The three daughters of the Xie family hovered around Xie Linshu, incessantly asking how to solve the riddles.

With the crowd growing dense, Song Xingyue urged Xie Jinfei and the others to squeeze aside, while she herself moved through the throng, gradually creating a gap of two or three people between herself and Xie Linshu.

He stood there in his flowing white robes, elegant and upright, his refined features illuminated under the gentle mist of the moonlit night, exuding an ethereal beauty.

Though separated by only a few people, Song Xingyue felt as though a great chasm lay between them, as if no matter how she tried, she could never close the distance.

Much like when they lay side by side in bed, so intimately entwined...

Always feeling so close, yet impossibly far.

When Xie Linshu turned his head, he saw Song Xingyue standing far from him, and he furrowed his brow ever so slightly.

She shook her head at him, saying softly, “It’s nothing. You all guess away. I’ll just watch here.”

Xie Linshu seemed about to say more, but Xie Jinfei and the others immediately swarmed him again, cutting off any further words.

Separated by the crowd, the two could exchange little.

As more and more people pressed in, Xie Linshu remained unfazed; his cold demeanor made others wary, keeping them at a distance with just a glance. Song Xingyue, feeling suffocated by the crush, and unwilling to risk damaging the rabbit lantern in her hands, slowly stepped back from the crowd, no longer joining in the riddle guessing.

Suddenly, without warning, a hand reached out from somewhere, covering her mouth and pulling her into a nearby alley.

The bustling crowd surged around them, oblivious to a woman being dragged into the shadowed lane.

Moonlight bathed the Twelve States Prefecture, but it barely penetrated the alley’s entrance. No matter how bright the world outside, the street remained as dark and secluded as ever. Only the small glow from the rabbit lantern in Song Xingyue’s hand faintly illuminated the night.

Her mouth was silenced, stifling any cry. The stranger’s grip was powerful, pressing her back tightly against his chest, leaving no room for resistance. From her throat came soft sobs, betraying her panic and helplessness.

He half-carried, half-dragged her deeper into the alley, where a bundle of straw concealed their figures.

She felt as if she were about to be melded into his very chest.

Ji Jianyun’s voice, deep and hoarse, whispered close to her ear, carrying a faint laugh: “Ah Yue, long time no see.”

“Ji Jianyun… let go,” she managed to utter faintly through his fingers.

He chuckled lowly, his voice close to her ear: “If you don’t want him to find out, then don’t scream.”

With that, he finally released her.

Song Xingyue dared not cry out but panted heavily, shoving him away before quietly distancing herself.

She muttered, “Are you mad?”

What was going on now?

Xie Linshu was right outside, only separated by that alley.

If she were discovered, wouldn’t her reputation be utterly ruined tonight? If Xie Jinfei and the others gossiped about it at home, Jing Xi would surely pressure Xie Linshu to dismiss her.

Ji Jianyun paid no mind to her anger. In the dimness, his gaze burned with such intensity it felt as if it could scorch her face.

He said, “You’re too much, Ah Yue. I left for just two years, and you hurriedly married someone else.”

How had she promised him back then? She had clearly vowed to wait for him in the capital, to wait for his return.

Yet what did he find waiting for him in the northern border?

Only news of her marrying another.

How could she be so heartless?

Ji Jianyun had pondered this question for two long years but never understood how she could be so cruel.

He had longed for her daily on the frontier. What had he waited for in the end?

Compared to Ji Jianyun’s bitterness, Song Xingyue’s emotions were far calmer. After catching her breath, she said coldly, “I was sixteen then. What could I have waited with?”

Ji Jianyun clenched his teeth in frustration. “We’ve known each other three years, and you couldn’t wait two.”

They had known each other for three years, yet those two years were too long to wait?

Thinking it over, it was nothing but climbing the social ladder, turning to others when the Ji family fell from grace.

She was quite skilled; she even crossed the threshold of the Xie family. How had she never tripped and fallen outside?

“Two years?” Song Xingyue asked with a low voice and a bitter laugh, “You only said you were leaving. You never said it would be two years.”

He had left for the northern border without a definite return date, leaving her behind in the capital with no timeframe. How was she supposed to wait?

Ji Jianyun immediately retorted, “The northern border was chaotic. How could I know when I’d return? Besides, I’d only been gone half a year, and you married within that. You couldn’t even wait half a year, so how could you talk about two years?”

Song Xingyue had no desire to argue further. He had returned now, but what good was that? She was already married. How could she still entangle with him?

She sighed and stared at Ji Jianyun in the darkness, “Back then, we both had our difficulties. I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame me.”

The sky was dark, stars twinkling faintly. The hazy, unreal moonlight cast her as a celestial princess, soft light falling on her face, clean and untouchable. Yet her words sounded like ghosts or specters, as if trying to rip out the heart.

Ji Jianyun grasped her chin, drawing close to her face, as if wanting to see her coldness more clearly. He smiled faintly and said, “Ah Yue, I don’t blame you? Why do you always think things are so simple?”

He probably truly hated her, for his grip was merciless.

He once longed to hold her tenderly in his palm, yet now he could be so heartless.

Song Xingyue winced from the pain, unsure if it was physical hurt or emotional grief. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

She said, “You’re so boring.”

What should be let go, even if not wanted, must eventually pass. Why make it so difficult?

Tears rolled down her face into his palm. Perhaps scorched by them, Ji Jianyun finally loosened his hold.

In the end, he merely cast her a cold glance before leaving the alley.

Their reunion was so awkward that Ji Jianyun seemed to know there was little more to say. Seeing her cry, he seemed at a loss and could only turn away.

Watching Ji Jianyun’s departing figure, Song Xingyue’s tears flowed harder. Fearing others might hear, she covered her mouth and wept softly.

Afraid that Xie Linshu and the others would notice her absence or sense something was wrong, she stopped crying, hastily wiping her tears and turning to leave the alley.

When she emerged, Xie Linshu and the others were no longer in front of Fengxiang Pavilion. She did not know where they had gone.

In her panic, she had Ji Jianyun pull her away, unsure if Xie Linshu’s group had noticed her disappearance or if they were searching for her.

The street was crowded, with people coming and going, but she could find no trace of Xie Linshu.

The more she looked, the more desperate she became, like falling into an abyss in a recurring nightmare, unable to climb out.

Dan Ping was nowhere to be seen, leaving her alone amid the vast crowd searching.

Where was Xie Linshu?

Where could he be?

Chang’an Street was too bustling; she could not find them.

Unable to locate anyone, she climbed the arch bridge, intending to search the other end of the street. Just then, fireworks exploded in the sky.

The first firecracker’s blast sent the entire street trembling. Children screamed, gazing upwards. Song Xingyue instinctively looked up to see the sky ablaze with smoke and sparks like blooming silver flowers, brightening the night.

“Song Xingyue.”

His voice cut clearly through the noise.

She turned her head and saw Xie Linshu standing beneath the bridge, dressed in white.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his expression grim.

Earlier, he had been trapped by the crowd in front of the tavern, surrounded by his three sisters. He wished to leave but could not. Disinterested in the riddles, he tried to slip away, only to realize Song Xingyue was nowhere to be seen.

He did not know whether she had wandered off or been lost in the crowd. He searched for her everywhere but could not find her.

Usually unshaken, he felt uncharacteristic anxiety and began looking for her along Chang’an Street.

Yet no matter how hard he sought, she remained elusive.

Their next meeting was under such a scene: she stood upon the bridge, watching the fireworks bloom.

“Song Xingyue.”

He called her name, irritation evident in his tone and expression, as if scolding her for running off.

Song Xingyue froze for a moment before dashing toward him beneath the fireworks.

Her robes fluttered, hair swirling in the wind. In that instant, these intangible things seemed to take form.

Looking anxious and fearful, she seemed lost and desperate, her eyes swollen and red from crying.

“Changzhou.”

She leapt into Xie Linshu’s arms, which felt solid and real. She sobbed softly, stammering between tears, “I was pushed away by the crowd. I couldn’t find you, no matter how hard I tried.”

She said nothing of Ji Jianyun, not revealing that she had been dragged into the alley by him.

She only said she was lost in the crowd and could not find him.

Seeing her so hurt and sorrowful, Xie Linshu swallowed back his words of reproach. He parted his thin lips, about to speak.

But then, he caught a scent on her — someone else’s fragrance.

The strong smell of alcohol lingered on her.

So she had cried in his arms just now?

Xie Linshu pried her hands from his waist.

His eyes drooped as he stared at her for a long moment in silence.

Behind those eyes seemed to lurk another person. He longed to see through her body and discern if someone else dwelled within.

The tears she shed in his embrace were but a pretense; the tears shed in Ji Jianyun’s arms were the true her.

Song Xingyue felt ashamed under his gaze, tongue-tied and speechless, even forgetting to cry.

She stammered, “Changzhou…”

Xie Linshu’s eyes were devoid of emotion now, cold and stern as he said, “Where did you run off to just now? Lost in the crowd? If you couldn’t find us, why didn’t you stay put and wait?”

He had not been like this earlier. His sudden barrage of questions left Song Xingyue momentarily at a loss.

Lowering his head, he added, “If you got lost, you could have gone home by yourself, right?”

He asked, “So what exactly are you afraid of?”

Xie Linshu could not hear her answer, nor did he need it.

His indifferent expression stopped her tears from falling further.

She said, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have run off.”

He disliked trouble, disliked her. Even if she truly got lost, what then? Even if she truly couldn’t find him, what then?

After this small incident, the mood was spoiled. They returned to the Xie residence.

On the way back, the three young ladies remained lively and cheerful, unaffected by the episode. Yet between Xie Linshu and Song Xingyue, a profound silence lay — no words passed.

Seated in the carriage, Song Xingyue gazed at the rabbit lantern in her hand.

The lantern, newly purchased, had been crushed and crumpled amid the crowd’s jostling and her struggle with Ji Jianyun, its shape lost.

Once back at Qinghe Courtyard, she would discard it.

Dan Ping lamented, “It’s a shame. The lantern is wrinkled, but still watchable. You insisted on getting it, and now it’s ruined.”

Song Xingyue replied, “It’s so damaged, how can it still be good? Things that are no longer good aren’t worth keeping.”

Dan Ping had no more to say.

Upon returning, Song Xingyue first went to purify herself.

The events of the night weighed on her heart. She could not comprehend why Xie Linshu’s heart was so cold — even seeing her cry, he only scolded.

So truly cold-hearted.

Though she knew his nature, she still harbored some resentment. He had been too unkind to her.

Thinking of Xie Linshu, then Ji Jianyun, she felt utterly exhausted. Slowly, she immersed herself in the bath, letting the water cover her completely. Instead of discomfort, she found an inexplicable relief.

Outside, Xie Linshu waited for her to finish. He too intended to cleanse himself.

But tonight, she lingered unusually long. Even accounting for washing her hair, it should not have taken this long.

Frowning, Xie Linshu headed toward the purification room.

Song Xingyue disliked being attended to during her bath. Dan Ping had changed the water twice but remained outside.

Inside, the steam was thick, the candlelight hazy under moisture.

Xie Linshu approached the bath but did not see her fully submerged.

His heart skipped a beat, brow furrowing deeply.

What had he said to her earlier? Was it worth her seeking death?

Without further thought or time to roll up his sleeves, he plunged his hand into the water and pulled her out.

Startled by the sudden force, water dripped from her hair and cheeks. She choked on the water, barely reacting before hearing a sharp rebuke.

“What are you doing?”

Though Xie Linshu often wore a cold, stern face, he had never shouted like this.

Born to a prominent family, always composed and dignified, such outbursts were rare.

Song Xingyue shrank under his grasp, trembling as she looked at him.

Water trickled down her hair and face; her entire body was soaked. With autumn’s chill settling in, his icy hand on her shoulder sent a shiver through her.

She explained, “Changzhou, I didn’t do anything. I was just cleansing myself.”

“To immerse your entire body like this—is this a wish to die?” Xie Linshu’s tone remained cold, his face dark and as if dripping water.

Frightened by his expression, she reached out, tugging at his sash, voice trembling with tears: “Changzhou, I know I upset you by running off. I won’t run off again. Please don’t be so harsh with me.”

Whether from water or tears, her eyes were red and moist. Shivering, she looked like a wronged little wife.