Chen Wanquan had drunk too much wine at noon and fell into a dazed sleep on the heated brick bed, soon snoring like thunder. Xue Shi sent a young boy playing at the door to deliver a message to the antique shop, requesting half a day's leave on behalf of Chen Wanquan. Xianglan helped Xue Shi with household chores inside and out, all while listening to her ramble on about trivial domestic matters.
After being busy for a while, Xianglan, concerned about visiting Dingyi Shitai, tucked a string of coins into her pocket, went to a shop on the street to buy two packages of pastries and fruits, and arrived at the Tranquil Moon Temple only to find that Dingyi Shitai was in seclusion. She was deeply disappointed and had no choice but to leave the fruits and pastries behind, along with a letter for Dingyi Shitai, before leaving in frustration.
As she rounded the temple's enclosing wall, she heard someone say, "Yi Fei, why aren't you using the fan from yesterday? The poem inscribed on it was so well-written, much more interesting than this landscape fan."
She then heard Song Ke reply, "That poem was scribbled casually. What's so good about it?"
Xianglan peeked and saw two young gentlemen with their backs to her—one was Song Ke, the other Lin Jinting. Lin Jinting laughed and said, "What's not good about it? 'The bright moon, an old friend far away; the secluded orchid, its fragrance lingers in vain. From a small tower, a night flute is heard; in the deep silence, the third watch has passed.' Though simple, these lines carry a profound, melancholic atmosphere. Someday, we should have someone skilled in music set it to a tune and sing it."
Song Ke chuckled, "What nonsense are you talking? It was just written for fun. If such a flowery piece spreads, Grand Scholar Liu will surely accuse me of neglecting my studies and indulging in frivolity."
Lin Jinting snorted, "You, neglecting your studies? By now, you probably have the annotations for the eight-legged essays memorized backward. If I hadn't dragged you out for a stroll, who knows how long you'd have kept studying."
Xianglan didn't hear what the two said after that. Her ears only caught "The bright moon, an old friend far away; the secluded orchid, its fragrance lingers in vain. From a small tower, a night flute is heard; in the deep silence, the third watch has passed," and she stood there in a daze for a long while. It turned out that in her previous life, when she was exiled and sent away, she had stayed overnight in a dilapidated house by the river. The house was drafty, damp, and chilly. As dusk gradually fell and with no lamp or candle in the room, only a crescent moon hung in the sky, she leaned by the window gazing at the scattered fishing lights on the river and faintly heard a distant flute. At that time, Xiao Hang had already fallen ill, half-reclining on the bed coughing.
The scene was truly too desolate and bleak. She brought Xiao Hang half a bowl of cool water, feeding it to him slowly, and thought of a topic to lighten the mood, smiling as she said, "If not for this house being so broken, living here might have some charm. Let me give you a couplet to match—you're a talented scholar, so don't laugh at my crude words."
Xiao Hang took a breath, his pale lips curling slightly into a faint smile, and said, "Go ahead, I'll try to match it."
She recited, "The bright moon far, from a small tower hearing the flute like a dream."
Xiao Hang thought for a moment and said, "An old friend parted, all sounds hushed as the third watch passes."
She smiled and said, "A clever match. Our couplet could form a poem, with two lines being 'From a small tower, a night flute is heard; in the deep silence, the third watch has passed.'"
Xiao Hang also smiled, his thin cheeks hidden in the shadows of the moonlight.
She suddenly reached out and slowly clasped Xiao Hang's hand. Xiao Hang was taken aback for a moment, then gradually tightened his grip on hers.
In such a bleak circumstance, her heart actually felt somewhat warm.In truth, she knew that before marrying her, Xiao Hang had loved another woman—a cousin from his maternal aunt's side. Because the woman's family status was too low, the match was ultimately abandoned. After marriage, she had seen that woman once, who possessed unparalleled grace, was well-versed in poetry and literature, and had both admirable character and appearance. Xiao Hang secretly kept a smooth white jade peace buckle given to him by that woman, always wearing it around his neck. From this, she understood that Xiao Hang had married her largely because of her grandfather's status as Chief Grand Secretary. Although the two got along harmoniously, she still felt a lingering discontent.
But since their exile and banishment, the hardships along the way had truly tempered their marital bond.
The line, "Hearing the night flute from the small tower, the silence has deepened past midnight," she had playfully carved on the wall of that dilapidated house.
Now, this very line was inscribed by Song Ke. Xianglan felt as if a thunderbolt had struck her head, her heart pounding wildly. She hurried forward a few steps and nearly collided with Lin Jinting.
Lin Jinting immediately became displeased, turned around, and glared at Xianglan, scolding, "I'm talking to you! Do you even have eyes?"
Xianglan remained dazed, her eyes fixed only on Song Ke, completely unaware of what Lin Jinting had said.
Lin Jinting stared at her and said, "Hey, hey, you bumped into me and don't even say a word?" Song Ke turned and saw Xianglan standing behind him. He was about to speak but noticed her bright, moist eyes seemingly brimming with tears, and the words caught in his throat, unable to come out.
Lin Jinting muttered, "Staring blankly like that, is she a fool?" He tugged at Song Ke's arm, saying, "Let's go, this person has gone mad."
Song Ke looked into Xianglan's eyes and suddenly felt a pang of panic, as if those eyes were piercing straight into his very bones, illuminating his heart, liver, and lungs, exposing everything. They held a profound affection and a faint trace of melancholy, yet he found himself unable to break free. He knew this wasn't the right moment to speak, but his feet felt rooted to the ground, unable to move.
Just then, Lin Jinting's servant, Lu'er, hurried over and said, "The private room at Shunfu Restaurant is ready. A table of fine tea snacks has been served, along with freshly brewed premium West Lake Dragon Well tea. Please, both masters, come over."
Lin Jinting, already hungry and thirsty from wandering, happily replied, "Perfect, perfect, let's hurry over."
Song Ke glanced around and noticed a nearby shop selling brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, among other calligraphy and painting supplies. He said to Lin Jinting, "You go ahead first. I'll buy some brushes and ink and then join you."
Lin Jinting scoffed, "In a place like this, what good Four Treasures of the Study could there be? Tomorrow, I'll get you a fine Duan inkstone."
Song Ke smiled and said, "You don't understand—it's the rustic charm I'm after."
Lin Jinting was terribly thirsty and, hearing this, waved his hand and said, "Fine, go buy what you want. I'm going ahead to have some hot tea." He then followed Lu'er and left.
After Lin Jinting had gone far, Song Ke turned back to look at Xianglan. Her complexion was like jade, her delicate brows and eyes as if painted, with a hint of bewilderment in her expression. Song Ke felt he could never get enough of looking at her; his heartbeat quickened several times. He lowered his head, coughed lightly, and said, "We meet again. Why aren't you on duty at the residence? What are you doing out here?"
The words "on duty at the residence" felt like a bucket of cold water poured over her head. Xianglan lowered her head and said, "The Concubine gave me leave today. I came home to visit my parents."
Song Ke didn't understand why her face suddenly filled with sorrow and asked, "Has something happened at home?"Xianglan shook her head. When she lifted her face, the sorrow had vanished, replaced by a smile. "What a coincidence to meet Eldest Master Song here," she said. She wanted to ask about the two lines of poetry but found herself unable to speak.
Seeing her smile, Song Ke unconsciously smiled back. "Xiuhong insisted on dragging me out for a stroll," he explained.
Then silence fell between them. Song Ke felt secretly annoyed with himself. Having lived two lifetimes, his sole ambition was to pass the imperial examinations, secure an official post, and achieve great deeds to make up for his untimely death in his previous life. He believed he had already learned to regard all worldly matters with detachment, yet facing this young maid, his heart pounded wildly as if a dozen little rabbits were bouncing inside.
After a long pause, Song Ke finally found a topic. "I'm going to browse the painting and calligraphy shop. Why don't you come with me?"
Unexpectedly, Xianglan spoke simultaneously: "The fan you're holding..."
Song Ke asked, "What about it?"
Xianglan stared blankly for a moment before shaking her head. "It's nothing." She took a deep breath and smiled. "You mentioned going to the shop earlier. Let's go in and look around." With that, she led the way into the shop.
The shopkeeper had been dozing in his chair when he suddenly noticed a young gentleman entering. He hurried forward to greet him. Seeing the visitor's refined attire, his smile widened, and he became increasingly attentive.
Song Ke wasn't sure what he wanted to buy. He examined the Xuelang paper and various pigments, then remembered his sister Tanzhai mentioning that she had been composing poetry and painting with Lin Dongqi these past few days but lacked some painting materials and stationery. He asked the shopkeeper to select the finest items and packaged one medium dye brush, one small dye brush, two liang of cinnabar, two liang of mineral yellow, two liang of Guanghua pigment, and two cakes of rouge.
While paying, Song Ke stole a few glances at Xianglan. She kept her head bowed, lost in thought. This girl—when they had bumped into each other earlier, her eyes had been brimming with mixed emotions of joy and sorrow when she looked at him. Then her face had shown bewilderment, followed by clear grief. Now, he couldn't decipher her thoughts.
After leaving the shop, he cleared his throat and said, "After Cao Lihuan left the mansion, I actually wanted to request your transfer to my household. Who would have thought you'd end up serving Concubine Lan instead. If you're unhappy there, I'll speak with Madam in a couple of days to have you assigned to my sister. She has a gentle temperament and is extremely kind to others."
Xianglan felt a sour ache in her heart, yet there was also an irrepressible thread of joy. "Really?" she asked.
Song Ke smiled faintly. "Of course. If you ever face any difficulties in the future, feel free to come to me."
Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Xianglan couldn't help but curve her lips into a smile. "I'm afraid I'll have to trouble Eldest Master Song often in the future."
Her smile struck Song Ke like the first thaw of spring ice, making his heart itch and beat even more fiercely. He tightly clenched the fan behind his back, though his face remained composed. He nodded firmly. "What trouble? Just come whenever you need." After a pause, he added playfully, "But I asked you to make me a stationery set, and I still haven't seen it."
Xianglan's cheeks flushed slightly. "I've been too busy lately. I'll make it for you when I have some free time in the next couple of days."
Her slightly lowered eyelashes were thick and long. Standing in the light, she resembled a figure carved from jade. Song Ke was reluctant to leave, but spotting his servant Tingquan peeking from not far away, he had to say, "I should go now. I'm currently staying in the courtyard north of the Lin residence."Xianglan nodded, curtsied with a smile, and said, "Eldest Master Song, please take care on your way."
Song Ke took two steps, then suddenly turned back and thrust the fan in his hand into Xianglan's grasp, saying, "You mentioned a fan earlier—this one is for you." With that, he turned and left.
Watching Song Ke's retreating figure, her heart suddenly felt hollow. She unfolded the folding fan in her hand—the exquisite painted fan depicted a stretch of emerald-green water rippled by a gentle breeze, with faint blue mountains in the distance, and a small crystal pendant dangling from the bottom. Silently, Xianglan closed the fan. Originally, she had wanted to ask about those two lines of poetry, to inquire whether Song Ke was truly that person... but her heart suddenly grew indifferent. What use would asking be? She was no longer the noble daughter of a prominent family she once was, merely a maid now. Could she possibly hope for him to rekindle their past connection? Their current social standings were an insurmountable barrier—was she willing to become his concubine?
Yet his tender affection, his thoughtful care, filled her heart with irrepressible joy, as if a long-dormant seed had sprouted, pushing forth a tender green shoot.
She knew full well she should not covet such feelings, yet she found herself unable to resist.
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