Moonlit Reunion

One day, Wu Zhen had just finished watching a newly choreographed dance performance in the Apricot Garden with the emperor, empress, and imperial consorts. As she was about to leave the palace gates, she ran into an old acquaintance—Huang Yi, a gentleman from the Huang family. He was one of the potential husbands Duke Yu had once selected for her. Later, after losing to her in an archery competition, he had been so ashamed that he resolutely refused the marriage and instead became her sworn brother.

Now serving as a commandant, Huang Yi was responsible for guarding the palace gates and patrolling the outer court. His armor gleamed in the sunlight, making him look like a towering gate guardian. Over the years, the two had maintained a good relationship, so their conversation was casual. Like everyone else, Huang Yi had long heard about Wu Zhen’s impending marriage, and when he saw her, he stopped her to chat about it.

"I truly never expected this," Huang Yi said, hands on his hips, his rugged and resolute face full of emotion. These days, nine out of ten people Wu Zhen met would say the same thing.

"Not long ago, I was even thinking of introducing you to one of my brothers—a man who just returned from the Yizhou border. His archery and horsemanship are exceptional, definitely not inferior to yours. I thought, finally, here’s a man worthy of you, someone who wouldn’t disappoint. But before I could even mention it to you, you suddenly went and picked someone else to marry. What a shame."

It was clear Huang Yi’s regret was genuine, but Wu Zhen didn’t quite understand his belief that "only a man who could surpass her in archery would dare marry her." The guy was stubborn, and Wu Zhen couldn’t be bothered to argue with him. She waved a lazy hand and said, "You just want to see me compete in archery, don’t you? Fine, next time there’s a chance, I’ll have a match with your brother so you can stop obsessing over it."

Huang Yi suddenly lowered his voice, as if struck by a thought. "Honestly, I don’t have a good feeling about that Mei Jia Dalang."

Wu Zhen wasn’t surprised. The kind of "real man" Huang Yi admired had to be broad-shouldered, towering, and incredibly strong. Someone like Mei Jia Dalang, though broad-shouldered and sturdy, was still a bit lean for a young man, giving off the refined air of a scholar. It would’ve been strange if Huang Yi had approved of him.

Huang Yi continued, "You know why? Because it seems like Mei Jia Dalang has a problem with me."

Wu Zhen’s interest was suddenly piqued, her earlier laziness vanishing. "Oh? You know him? Why would he have a problem with you?"

Huang Yi scratched his head, baffled. "If I knew him, that’d be one thing. But I don’t even know him! I’ve only run into him a few times in the palace. Yet for some reason, every time he sees me, his expression is ice-cold. It’s so awkward I don’t even know how to ask about it…"

Wu Zhen said, "You’re probably overthinking it. That’s just how he is with everyone." Except her.

Huang Yi shook his head. "No, you haven’t seen it yourself, so you don’t know. It’s like… a piercing glare. Every time he looks at me, it feels like knives stabbing into my back, making me unbearably uncomfortable. His eyes are terrifyingly fierce, as if…" He struggled for a comparison before finally landing on one: "As if I’d stolen his woman."Wu Zhen suddenly narrowed her eyes. Unlike the simple-minded Huang Langjun, she quickly picked up on some clues. Huang Langjun had been dedicated to recommending men skilled in riding and archery to her, fussing over her almost as much as her own father. If Mei Zhuyu truly harbored romantic feelings for her, his attitude toward this stranger who kept trying to arrange her marriage would certainly not be friendly—this was practically a case of "stealing one's wife."

Having figured it out, Wu Zhen patted Huang Langjun on the shoulder and said, "Be careful from now on. If he really decides to hit you, I won’t help you." Wu Zhen thought to herself that the reason the young lord hadn’t fought this fool yet was probably because he couldn’t beat him.

Though Huang Langjun didn’t understand why she suddenly said this, he still flared up angrily, "They say brothers are like limbs, and women are like clothes—how can you treat your brother this way just because you’re married!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Huang Langjun realized something was off. Wait, that didn’t quite make sense. The sentiment was there, but it just didn’t fit.

Wu Zhen burst out laughing. "Brother, here’s some advice: next time you go around boasting about finding me a husband, make sure my fierce-eyed young lord and future husband isn’t nearby."

The penny finally dropped for Huang Langjun’s straightforward mind. He belatedly realized why Doctor Mei had been glaring at him so fiercely.

Huang Langjun: "Ah... so that’s how it is."

After enlightening Huang Langjun at the palace gate, Wu Zhen mounted her horse to head back. On the way, she spotted a somewhat familiar figure on the street.

She had just been talking about him, and now here he was. Mei Zhuyu seemed to have just left the palace after his shift. He was leading a horse but not riding it, instead walking quietly along the street.

For some reason, Wu Zhen didn’t call out to him. She slowed her horse, keeping a distance where she wouldn’t be noticed but wouldn’t lose sight of him either. She watched as the young lord walked silently down the street, occasionally glancing up at the elm trees lining the road. Then, he stopped in front of a vendor carrying a small shoulder pole.

Street vendors like this were common, hawking everything from needles and thread to freshly made snacks, homegrown fruits and vegetables, or seasonal flowers and thirst-quenching teas. From a distance, Wu Zhen could only see that the young lord had bought something from the vendor but couldn’t tell what it was.

Suddenly, Wu Zhen nudged her horse forward, closing the distance until she caught up with Mei Zhuyu. Up close, she saw that the vendor’s pole held early peaches—small, more green than red, looking tart just by appearance. The young lord held his horse’s reins in one hand and a lotus-leaf bundle in the other, containing a dozen or so of the greenish early peaches.

Hearing the hoofbeats behind him, he turned his head and locked eyes with Wu Zhen on horseback. His figure visibly stiffened for a moment, and the frosty expression on his face immediately softened a little.

Wu Zhen tugged on the reins, her eyes flickering toward the small peaches in Mei Zhuyu’s hand, and asked casually, "Are these peaches sweet?"

Mei Zhuyu stared at her on the horse, momentarily dazed, before replying, "Would you like some?"He bent down to pick the one with the most red hue and raised it to hand to Wu Zhen. Yet just as Wu Zhen reached out to take it, he suddenly withdrew his hand. Wu Zhen grabbed at empty air, leaning against her horse as she arched an eyebrow at him, only to see the young man lower his head and carefully wipe the peach clean before offering it to her again.

Wu Zhen took it and took a bite. It was indeed sour—so sour that she covered her cheek and sucked in a breath. Seeing her reaction, Mei Zhuyu also picked up a peach and took a bite, his expression calm as if he didn’t find it sour at all.

To Wu Zhen, the peach in his hand looked even more sour than hers.

“Not sour?”

Mei Zhuyu answered earnestly, “It’s fine.” The Taoist temple where he grew up had an early peach tree whose fruits were small and tart. Yet they still looked forward to its harvest every year. Those peaches were far more sour than these—once you got used to them, it wasn’t unbearable.

Holding the sour fruit, Wu Zhen gazed at the young man munching on it with a touch of pity. Poor thing, had he never tasted sweet, delicious fruit? If she’d known, she would have packed some of those special fruits reserved for the emperor and empress from the palace’s apricot garden earlier. At this time of year, most fruits weren’t ripe yet—only the imperial palace had access to fresh, sweet ones. Elsewhere, you couldn’t even buy them.

She tossed the fruit back into Mei Zhuyu’s arms and suddenly said, “Go back.” Then she turned her horse around and rode back toward the palace.

Mei Zhuyu didn’t know what she intended to do, guessing she might have other matters to attend to. He could only stand there dumbly, watching until her figure completely disappeared around the street corner before lowering his gaze in dejection, clutching the peach she had taken a bite from. Their hard-won time together had been too brief, leaving him at a loss and filled with a vague sense of loss.

Then, not long after he returned home, an old servant brought in a basket of bright red fruit.

“Young Master, Wu Er Niangzi came by earlier and left this basket of fruit for you.”

Mei Zhuyu understood why she had suddenly turned away earlier. His heart gave a sudden leap, and he rose from his seat, bracing himself against the table.

“She’s gone?”

“Yes, she left as soon as she delivered it.”

Mei Zhuyu sat back down, picked up one of the crimson fruits, and took a bite. It was sweet. Perhaps because it was too sweet, a strange sensation arose within him—as if a tender vine had sprouted inside his body, its rapidly growing leaves and branches causing a faint tingling in his skin and limbs while simultaneously wrapping around his heart, leaving him with an indescribable tightness in his chest.

After a long while, Mei Zhuyu exhaled deeply, sat upright at the table, and took out paper and brush to copy a few passages from the Scripture of Clarity and Tranquility to calm his mind.

“Dispel desires, and the heart will naturally be at peace; purify the heart, and the spirit will naturally be clear…”

Indeed, the heart was not yet pure, the spirit not yet clear—for desires had not yet been dispelled.

...

“Mei Si, what are you dawdling for? Hurry up and go!”

“Yeah, go already! We’re all waiting. Today, you have to invite your elder cousin out!”

“Come on, are you still one of us? We’re doing this for Sister Zhen—to build a good relationship with him. Don’t hold us back!”Mei Si was reluctantly pushed forward by his group of friends, shuffling toward the gate of his elder cousin's residence like a half-paralyzed man. Ever since the news of Sister Zhen's engagement to their eldest cousin had spread, these friends who often played with Sister Zhen had been eager to meet their future 'brother-in-law.' However, this 'brother-in-law' was notoriously low-profile—despite sending over a dozen invitations, they had received not a single reply. Left with no choice, they finally resorted to deploying Mei Si.

After all, they were relatives. Surely Mei Zhuyu would give some face if Mei Si personally went to invite him.

Yet, burdened with everyone's expectations, Mei Si was inwardly resistant. Among the group, his feelings were the most complicated—because it was Sister Zhen! His eldest cousin was going to marry Sister Zhen!

Truth be told, he wasn’t very familiar with this elder cousin. Their blood relation was distant and awkward, and he still hadn’t quite figured out the exact dynamic between Sister Zhen and his cousin.

Logically, he knew Sister Zhen would soon be his cousin’s wife, but emotionally, he couldn’t shake the illusion that his cousin had somehow become the 'sister-in-law.' After all, he had always seen Sister Zhen as the leader of their pack.

Lost in these bizarre thoughts, Mei Si’s brain short-circuited by the time he stood before his coldly composed cousin. In a moment of sheer mental lapse, he blurted out—

"Brother-in-law."

Mei Zhuyu: "?"

Mei Si: "..."