The Bofeng Tower of the Yan family was unusually quiet today.
Colorful banners fluttered high outside the building, while the long red lanterns for wine and tea shone dazzlingly bright. Glancing upward revealed no guests on the second floor, yet the main hall on the first floor was packed to capacity, with some even standing while waiting for seats—a peculiar sight to behold.
Yan Fuzhi had barely stepped over the threshold when a waiter hurried over with a bow. "Young Mistress," he greeted, then stole a glance at the plainly dressed Meng Tinghui beside her, his smile fading slightly. "You’ve brought a friend without giving us any prior notice…"
Ignoring him, Yan Fuzhi tugged Meng Tinghui toward the second floor. "How strange—why is it so quiet upstairs today?"
The waiter rushed to block their path. "Young Mistress, you’re unaware—several distinguished guests have reserved the entire second floor today. Look at the crowd downstairs—aren’t there plenty with wealth? Yet even they can’t go up… Perhaps you could return later…"
Yan Fuzhi shot him a sidelong glare and sneered, "Since when do I need to queue for a drink in my own family’s establishment?"
Sweat beading on his forehead, the waiter knew her temperament all too well and dared not obstruct further. He could only watch helplessly as she dragged her companion upstairs, finally stamping his foot in frustration before turning to report to the hall manager.
Yan Fuzhi pulled Meng Tinghui along, muttering, "Why the long face? You don’t realize—people come to Bofeng Tower for the view from the second-floor windows! Otherwise, why would they…"
Distracted by her own chatter, she suddenly halted when an arm shot out diagonally from the stairway, blocking their path. Frowning, she looked up.
"My young master has reserved the entire second floor today. I must ask you ladies to take seats downstairs," said a tall, expressionless man, his long arm resting on the staircase railing.
Yan Fuzhi scanned him coldly. "Judging by your attire, your master must be wealthy. But does he know whose territory he’s sitting on?"
The man remained silent, his gaze drifting over her head toward the floor below.
Meng Tinghui, standing behind, curled her lips slightly. Knowing Yan Fuzhi’s pride, she understood how infuriating it was to be ignored by a servant. Leaning against the wall, she prepared to enjoy the spectacle.
Sure enough, Yan Fuzhi flushed with anger and pointed at the man. "I asked you a question!"
Still, the man said nothing. But from the direction of the wide-open street-facing window came a clear, laughing voice—
"Whose territory? Naturally, it belongs to His Majesty the Emperor of our Great Ping Dynasty."
Hearing this, Meng Tinghui raised an eyebrow and turned to look.
A young man lounged by the window, one leg casually propped on the sill. He held a pitch-black folding fan, swaying it leisurely. The hem of his pale blue brocade robe fluttered in the wind, and paired with his blossom-like smiling face, it truly evoked the feeling of spring.
Yan Fuzhi, caught off guard by his retort, stared blankly for a moment before turning to Meng Tinghui with a cold laugh. "Early spring remains chilly, yet some fool fans himself, sending chills through the air. I’ve lost interest in this place. Let’s go downstairs…"
"Please stay a moment, young lady," the young man called out, then gestured with his chin toward the man guarding the staircase.The man understood the implication and respectfully said, "Yes, young master." He then stepped aside.
Yan Fuzhi remained motionless, still sneering, "So it was you who reserved the entire second floor? With such beautiful eyes, how could you fail to see how many people left disappointed downstairs because there were no seats?"
Meng Tinghui noticed the young man's expression darken slightly and couldn't help but chuckle softly to herself. She walked to the side and chose a table by the window to sit down, uninterested in their bickering.
Several private rooms were partitioned off on the second floor, and the door of the westernmost one was half-open, revealing the silhouette of someone seated inside, though their features were unclear.
The young man jumped down from the windowsill and walked straight up to Yan Fuzhi, scrutinizing her from head to toe. His expression turned somewhat peculiar as he closed his fan and said, "Judging by your attire, you're a student from the women's school here in Chongzhou?"
Yan Fuzhi glared at him and walked over to Meng Tinghui, spitting out, "Shameless libertine."
Instead of getting angry, the young man followed her with a smile and asked again, "Since you're a student at the women's school, may I ask why you're visiting a tavern instead of studying? Do you know how much effort His Majesty put into establishing a hundred women's schools across the country? How can you waste such precious time on..."
Yan Fuzhi was utterly bewildered and said to Meng Tinghui, "I have no idea where this lunatic came from."
Meng Tinghui responded absentmindedly, her gaze drifting out the window.
The young man raised an eyebrow, "I am not a lunatic, I—"
Before he could finish, a man's voice from the private room interrupted him: "Yanzhi, say no more."
Though brief and cold, the words immediately silenced the young man, who retreated with a subdued expression.
Only after watching him enter the private room did Yan Fuzhi turn back and snort to Meng Tinghui, "At least he knows his place." The man in the private room sounded no older than twenty, yet he could command such restraint from the young man, which piqued her curiosity. She couldn't resist glancing back a few more times. Turning around, she saw Meng Tinghui lost in thought and helplessly tapped the small wine cup in front of her, saying, "Tell me, is there anything you actually care about?"
Meng Tinghui withdrew her gaze and after a long pause, slowly replied, "Studying, passing the imperial exams, and becoming an official."
"Haven't you ever thought about getting married?" Yan Fuzhi stared at her. "Back in the day, Madam Zeng was the foremost female official in the court, rising to the position of Vice Chief of the Privy Council. Yet in the end, she feared growing old with no one to care for her and hastily resigned to marry..."
Meng Tinghui closed her eyes, "No."
—Who would want to marry someone like her, with no parents, no family, and no background?
She was no great beauty; the only thing worth praising about her was her knowledge. But if she couldn't pass the imperial exams and become an official, what use was all that learning?
Her answer was so resolute that Yan Fuzhi was left speechless. After a long silence, she spoke again, almost petulantly, "Since Madam Zeng's time, women who have entered the court as officials have mostly served in places like the Court of State Ceremonial or the Court of Imperial Entertainments. Occasionally, some have worked in the Six Ministries, but none have ever risen to the highest offices. Other women seek fame and glory through the exams for a few years of prestige, but you seem determined to become a high-ranking official. Have you even considered if it's possible?"
Meng Tinghui's eyelashes fluttered slightly, but she said nothing more.
Her hand, resting beside the chair, clenched softly.
Fleeting images flashed through her mind, tightening her chest and quickening her breath."If my body can bring relief to the people, I would not hesitate to sacrifice it."
That year, in that torrential downpour, that person's heartfelt words...
Still echo in my ears to this day.
In the cold wind and night rain, that person held her tightly, his warm breath whispering into her ear as he softly said, "Little girl, don't be afraid, don't cry..."
"Meng Tinghui?"
She snapped back to reality, her heart pounding uncontrollably.
Just then, the door of the private room was pushed open from behind, and a man's suppressed chuckle could be heard.
Yan Fuzhi turned around and saw it was the same green-robed man from before. Her anger flared, and she was about to scold him for eavesdropping when another person emerged from inside, causing her to freeze.
This man wore black robes and boots, his attire simple, but the white jade hairpin at the back of his head was exceedingly rare. His posture was upright, his face strikingly handsome, yet his right eye was covered with a black cloth—he had only one eye.
The two men walked forward one after the other, followed closely by the tall man who had been guarding the staircase, his demeanor reverent and unwavering.
As the three passed by them, the green-robed man suddenly stopped, leaning in close to Yan Fuzhi's face with a grin, and said—
"Young lady, what you said earlier was incorrect. Madam Zeng did not resign and marry because she feared growing old with no one to care for her. Do not spout such nonsense in the future."
Yan Fuzhi flushed crimson with embarrassment, quickly stepping back as she cursed, "Shameless! Rude!" She turned to pull Meng Tinghui away, exclaiming indignantly, "Wait until I tell my father about this scoundrel's behavior, and then..." But she noticed Meng Tinghui standing motionless, her gaze fixed intently on the black-robed man.
"Meng Tinghui?" she called out in surprise.
Meng Tinghui showed no reaction, her hands clenched as hard as stone, her eyes following the man as he walked step by step toward the staircase, descended step by step, and exited the building step by step...
His back was so straight, his shoulders so broad, his steps so steady.
There was no jade ornament at his waist; instead, a thin black stone plaque hung there, faintly etched with patterns. It swayed gently as he moved, nearly invisible against the dark fabric of his robes unless one looked closely.
She saw it clearly, her eyelid twitched violently, and her entire body trembled. Without a second thought, she rushed downstairs.
It was him...
It was truly him!
Outside Bofeng Tower, the sun shone brilliantly, its golden rays so dazzling one could hardly keep their eyes open.
She stood panting, scanning the surroundings for any sign of him.
The neighing of a horse came from the street. She looked over just in time to see him mount his horse, pulling the reins to turn.
He glanced sideways, his gaze sweeping over her face without lingering, then turned to the other two. His lips moved as he said something, and the three urged their horses forward and rode away.
Without looking back.
She stood as if nailed to the ground, without even the courage to step forward and ask him a single word.
He didn't recognize her...
But how could he still recognize her?
Ten years ago, he had pulled her from a pile of corpses—her clothes in tatters, her hair disheveled and filthy, her speech unclear. He couldn't even tell if she was a boy or a girl.
Ten years later, she stood before him with her hair tied and a cap, dressed in the uniform of a female student, clean and orderly. How could he have imagined she was that same child from back then?
All these years, he had been the only one she held in her heart. But why, now that she had finally seen him again, was this the outcome?Ten years ago, he had left just like this. She didn't know his name, nor his identity. All she could do was tremble while memorizing that face, those eyes, and the beautiful stone pendant hanging at his waist, engraving every word he had spoken to her in her heart.
Ten years later, he had grown taller and stronger, yet that face remained strikingly handsome, those eyes still held their captivating power, and the stone pendant still hung at his waist... She still lacked the courage to step forward and ask him—what was his name, would she ever see him again.
...
"Meng Tinghui, what's wrong?"
Yan Fuzhi had followed her down, her tone slightly hesitant.
She shook her head, "It's nothing." The sunlight made her eyes sting, stirring an unexpected urge to cry. After a pause, she smiled faintly and said, "Weren't you going to take me for a drink?"
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