Chapter Thirteen: Planting Peach Blossoms

That night, Liu Qin did not sleep peacefully. At one moment, she dreamed of her boyfriend from her previous life proposing to her. She happily accepted, and the two of them, dressed in wedding attire, walked hand in hand to the front as the wedding march played and the officiant offered blessings. Her boyfriend took her hand, preparing to slide a ring onto her finger, when suddenly someone snatched it away. Without her noticing, her future mother-in-law, her boyfriend’s mother, stood between them, demanding, “Aren’t you about to die? Why are you still clinging to my son?”

She started, instantly remembering: they had already broken up; she was dying; this was a dream, she was dreaming.

Dreams were like a vast black hole, pulling her deeper and deeper. In the next instant, she seemed to be on the bustling streets of Wucheng, with the blaring of wedding instruments, lively and noisy, mixed with shouts and laughter from the crowd—“The bride is coming! Look, the bride!”

She sat inside the bridal sedan, her head covered by a heavy red veil, unable to see anything but an endless sea of red.

She didn’t know how she completed the wedding rites, nor how she entered the bridal chamber. When the veil was lifted, she was nervous and afraid. “The new bride is shy,” many people laughed around her. She heard a familiar laugh and, looking up, saw the man in the red groom’s robe before her looked exactly like her former boyfriend. “You—you’re here too?” she asked foolishly. The man didn’t answer, just kept smiling. As he smiled, his face slowly changed, rippling like water, growing more and more unfamiliar until it became a face she didn’t recognize at all. “Wife, it’s time to drink the nuptial wine,” he said.

Startled, she asked in a trembling voice, “Who are you? Who is your wife?”

“It’s me, little sister. I’m Brother A Li.” The man smiled.

No, you’re not. She was about to protest when his face changed again, turning into little Jiang Li. Jiang Li leaned over her, shaking her hard. “Sister, you’re dreaming, wake up.”

She awoke in a daze to find herself lying on a bamboo couch in the courtyard, returned to the appearance of a five-year-old. Jiang Li was looking at her with concern. “Brother A Li, I don’t want to marry a stranger,” she said aggrievedly, throwing herself into the young boy’s arms, searching for the comfort she had never truly known.

Jiang Li patted her back, laughing cheerfully. “Alright, alright, if you don’t want to get married, Brother A Li will play with you.”

Leaning against him, she gradually fell asleep again, yet her slumber was restless. She heard her parents from her past life calling her “Xiao Qin,” and her current parents calling her “Qin’er.” “Xiao Qin.” “Qin’er.” “Xiao Qin.” “Qin’er.” Different voices echoed around her, faces shifting ceaselessly before her eyes as she struggled in the turmoil, desperately trying to reach solid ground.

This is a dream. Wake up. This is just a dream. She jerked awake, truly awake this time. Dawn’s faint light was beginning to filter through the window, casting vague shadows throughout the room. Soft rustlings came from behind the screen, followed by the gentle opening of a door and hushed voices.

Liu Qin lay in bed, silent, her eyes open, an inexplicable sadness welling up inside her, making her want to weep. The people of her past were not forgotten, just buried deep in her heart. The love from before had faded, but what about this life, and the future? What did it mean to live a free and unrestrained life? Was it enough to always act like a warrior, telling herself the world outside was splendid?

The world outside was indeed splendid, but it was also full of helplessness. In her past life, with all that freedom and openness, people still struggled and were confused. In this life, with even more constraints placed upon women, how could she obtain greater freedom? How could she live more freely and joyously? Only now did Liu Qin begin to truly ponder these questions.

First, she had to change the matter of marriage. Though her parents loved her, their time by her side would be brief—just over a decade. Most of her days would be spent in her husband’s household. Such an important role as a husband—she did not want to leave that choice to a matchmaker. Free love in her previous life was not always reliable, but arranged marriage, leaving everything to fate, was surely even less so.

Jiang Li. The name suddenly popped into her mind. Orphaned and without siblings, she would never have to worry about a spiteful mother-in-law constantly laying down rules, or, like her previous prospective mother-in-law, always finding fault with her. Nor would there be a haughty little sister-in-law meddling and sowing discord. Most importantly, he was good-natured, well-read, and courteous; though he seemed distant, he had a kind heart. And, above all, he was very handsome; when grown, he would surely be the most attractive man for miles around.

But most, most important of all, she could instill new ideas in him from a young age, shaping his thoughts at every turn. For instance: “Your eyes see only me, your heart thinks only of me, for a lifetime it’s just the two of us.” Or, “My little sister has both virtue and talent, beauty and character—where else could such a treasure be found?” Or again, “The world is vast and wonderful, with adventures in every direction—how could such days not be carefree?”

In short, what an excellent, rare peach blossom sapling this was!

As the saying goes, proximity to the water gets the first moon. Such a fine candidate could only belong to her. Consider Baoyu and Daiyu—wasn’t their revolutionary friendship also forged from childhood? Even if they could not share the same bed and the same meals, at least they were childhood companions, growing up side by side. Even if, in the end, they could not become inseparable lovers, there would still be the bond of siblings, which was better than facing a complete stranger.

Thinking thus, Liu Qin forgot her unease from her dream, hiding under the covers, secretly delighted. She imagined the grown, handsome A Li holding her hand as they strolled through a peach orchard with petals swirling around them, a gentle breeze fluttering their garments. Beneath the tallest peach tree, they would stop together, A Li elegantly lifting her hand and plucking a petal from beside her temple. Their eyes would meet, full of deep emotion, time freezing in that moment of profound mutual gaze.

The scene was so beautiful, it hardly seemed of this world. The more Liu Qin thought about it, the more excited she became, laughing aloud and rolling around on her bed. Cui Liu and Cui Yu, hearing the commotion, hurried in with her washing things. Seeing the little girl tumbling about with no sense of decorum, both stood stunned. Cui Yu glanced at Cui Liu as if to say, “What kind of madness has the young miss caught so early in the morning?”

“Good morning, Sister Cui Liu, Cui Yu,” the little girl finally noticed the two standing by her bed, and greeted them with a cheerful smile.

“You’re up early today, miss.” Cui Liu was the quicker to recover, setting down the basin and fetching a sea-blue long robe from the wardrobe for Liu Qin to wear. She smiled as she helped her dress. “What happy event has you in such high spirits?”

A joyful event? Perhaps, but she couldn’t tell them. Liu Qin grinned and nodded. Suddenly a thought struck her: if changing a woman’s marriage could change her fate, then she should start with the people around her. That was true shared fortune.

So, with great solemnity, Liu Qin said to Cui Liu, “Sister Cui Liu, when the time comes for you to marry, I’ll let you make the decision for yourself.”

Cui Liu was briefly taken aback, while Cui Yu burst out laughing. “Miss, you’re still just a little girl, worrying about others’ marriages already? Isn’t it a bit early for that? Besides, it’s not your call, and if the mistress hears, you’ll be in for a scolding.”

Hmph, Cui Yu, go ahead and laugh. You don’t believe me now, but one day I’ll marry you off to a fat old pig and see if you can still laugh. Liu Qin rolled her eyes, muttering inwardly, while her face adopted an expression of indifference.

Cui Liu, on the other hand, was touched—perhaps she remembered last night’s conversation. She sincerely thanked Liu Qin, “Then I’ll thank you in advance, miss.”

“Don’t worry, you can trust my word.” Standing on the bed, Liu Qin patted Cui Liu’s shoulder in a grown-up manner, making both maids laugh again.