Moonlit Reunion
Chapter 33
Although the rain had gradually lightened, it continued to drizzle without fully stopping, and the sky grew increasingly dark. As the evening drum signaling the city gates' closure was about to sound, Lady Fu and Master Song warmly insisted that Wu Zhen and Mei Zhuyu stay for dinner and even invited them to spend the night at their home.
"Sister Zhen, it's so late now—it would be such a hassle to rush back. Let the two of us host you instead. I’ve already had the kitchen prepare food. Since you got caught in the rain today, we’ve made warming mutton dishes and crispy fried tender chicken, freshly bought by the servants this morning." Lady Fu was meticulous when it came to food, and as she spoke, she smacked her lips in anticipation. "I also had them steam rose-flavored milk cakes and mix white dragon paste."
Master Song added from behind, "That’s right, Sister Zhen, don’t worry—we specifically instructed them not to add any pepper this time. There’s absolutely no spiciness at all!"
Since the couple both adored spicy dishes, their meals were usually heavily seasoned and pungent. Wu Zhen had previously been reluctant to dine here precisely because of this—she couldn’t handle spicy food at all. But upon hearing this, she suddenly had an idea. Spicy? Thinking of how Mei Si and Cui Jiu had been reduced to tears by the heat earlier, she immediately hatched a plan.
With a wave of her hand, she declined, "No need. I’m taking my husband out for something delicious."
Hearing this, Lady Fu assumed Wu Zhen wanted some alone time with Mei Jia Dalang. Though she felt a little regretful, she didn’t want to ruin their romantic moment. Still, curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn’t help asking, "Then, Sister Zhen, where are you planning to take him?"
Wu Zhen smiled. "That restaurant run by Madam Wu from Shu—the one you and Master Song love the most."
Lady Fu: "Huh?" But Sister Zhen couldn’t handle spice at all—why would she go there? Unless Mei Dalang enjoyed spicy food?
Baffled, they could only watch as the two left.
Mei Zhuyu waited outside, glancing at the darkening sky. When Wu Zhen emerged, he said, "It’s getting late. Let me escort you back."
Wu Zhen: "No rush. I’m taking you somewhere for dinner."
Mei Zhuyu hesitated slightly, but when Wu Zhen asked, "Don’t you want to eat with me?" he immediately shook his head. "I do, but it’s late. If we eat now, the evening drum might sound before we can return."
Wu Zhen dismissed his concern. "Then we won’t go back. It’s not like I can’t find us a place to stay." Not hearing a response from Mei Zhuyu, she turned her head and grinned. "Relax, I just want to take you somewhere nice to eat. I won’t misbehave."
Her words, seemingly laden with hidden meaning, suddenly made Mei Zhuyu—who hadn’t been overthinking it—feel a little flustered.
"I didn’t bring my horse, and the place is a bit far. Looks like we’ll have to share a ride." Without waiting for Mei Zhuyu’s reaction, Wu Zhen stepped onto the stirrup and mounted the horse, extending her hand to him. "Come on."
For a man and woman to share a horse in public, even in these liberal times, was still rather improper. Mei Zhuyu looked at her outstretched hand but ultimately said nothing as he mounted and settled behind her.
Seeing that he had actually gotten on, Wu Zhen laughed. "Aren’t you afraid of being accused of improper conduct? Those censors love meddling in such trivial matters. If someone really sees us, you might get reprimanded."
Mei Zhuyu took the reins and murmured, "It’s fine." As long as she didn’t mind, he had no intention of refusing her and making her unhappy.Although Wu Zhen was known for her willful and reckless nature, she never involved others in her escapades—especially not someone she genuinely liked. She certainly wouldn't let the young man suffer any undue trouble because of her. So, with a bright laugh, she gathered the reins in her hands and said to Mei Zhuyu, "Hold on tight. I'll lead the way. Don’t worry, I know a few secluded paths where we won’t attract any attention."
The paths she mentioned were indeed extremely remote. Along the way, they only encountered two people, and with Wu Zhen urging the horse forward at a swift pace under the dimming twilight, even if passersby did catch a glimpse of them, they wouldn’t be able to make out the riders’ faces clearly.
At first, Mei Zhuyu maintained some distance between them, but as the horse galloped, he had no choice but to press close to Wu Zhen. When he lowered his head, he could catch the scent of her perfume mingled with the delicate fragrance of the pink peony tucked into her hair. Watching the flower tremble amidst her dark locks, Mei Zhuyu found himself distracted, worrying that it might fall at any moment.
Wu Zhen’s hair was tied up, revealing a slender, pale neck. Since the borrowed clothes from Wu Er Niangzi were slightly too large, the collar naturally loosened as they rode, exposing a glimpse of her smooth, luminous skin that seemed to glow faintly in the dusky light. Mei Zhuyu grew increasingly uneasy, his ears burning, convinced he was seeing something he shouldn’t. His heart flustered.
Several times, he considered pulling up the fallen collar for her, but fearing it would be too forward, he averted his gaze, fixing his eyes stubbornly on the top of her head instead.
The rain had nearly stopped, though a fine drizzle still lingered. By the time they reached their destination, both were slightly damp again.
"Here we are," Wu Zhen said, pulling Mei Zhuyu toward a brightly lit building.
The Chongren Ward was filled with inns and lodgings, bustling with travelers from all corners of the land. During the recent imperial examinations, the area had been especially lively, teeming with young scholars who had drawn the attention of many young women. Now that the exams were over, the excitement had faded, though some students still lingered in the vicinity. Most of the current visitors were merchants conducting business in Chang’an—foreign traders mostly gathered on the opposite side, while Wu Zhen led Mei Zhuyu to a cluster of restaurants and taverns.
At this hour, other wards would have quieted down, but here, the streets remained brilliantly lit and lively. The clamor of clinking cups and laughter spilled from every establishment, mingling with the rich aromas of food and wine. The melodies of pipa-playing songstresses carried for miles.
The restaurant Wu Zhen and Mei Zhuyu entered was unmistakable from afar due to its pungent, spicy aroma. The owner hailed from Bashu, and the dishes served here followed the bold, fiery flavors of that region.
Many in Chang’an had a fondness for such cuisine, and this restaurant’s authentic taste kept patrons streaming in daily. Under normal circumstances, finding a seat would have been difficult, but Wu Zhen was acquainted with the proprietress, Wu Niang, who promptly escorted them to a private room upstairs.
When Wu Niang heard Wu Zhen’s order, she couldn’t hide her surprise. She knew Wu Er Niangzi couldn’t handle spicy food—so why had she requested only the fieriest dishes today? But having run her business for years, Wu Niang knew better than to pry. Seeing no further explanation from Wu Zhen, she simply went to prepare the meal. Soon, the table was laden with dishes, all vibrant red and fragrant with spice.At first glance, one could see the dishes were laden with ingredients like pepper, Sichuan peppercorns, and dogwood, their pungent aroma so overpowering it made one hesitant to pick up the chopsticks.
Wu Zhen looked at Mei Zhuyu. "Give it a try."
Without a word, Mei Zhuyu picked up his chopsticks and silently began eating the fish. Wu Zhen also took a couple of polite bites, only to feel as if she had bitten into a lump of burning coal. Keeping her expression neutral, she poured herself a cup of tea—a blend prepared by Wu Niang according to her hometown customs, infused with medicinal herbs to cool the body and counteract the spiciness.
However, she had still underestimated these dishes. Before she could see the young man shed a tear, she herself was on the verge of crying.
"Don't you find this spicy?" Wu Zhen couldn't help but ask.
Mei Zhuyu glanced at her flushed lips before quickly looking away. "It's tolerable." His sect was located in the Western Ridge Mountains, a region bordering Sichuan, where such fiery flavors were common. Moreover, he had spent his early childhood living atop snow-capped peaks, where spicy food was often used to ward off the cold.
Mei Zhuyu had no particular preferences when it came to food—he wasn’t picky. While he could handle these dishes, he didn’t particularly enjoy them. But he could tell Wu Zhen didn’t like them either, as she kept drinking water after just a few bites.
"If you don’t like it, perhaps we could go somewhere else?" Mei Zhuyu finally spoke up after watching Wu Zhen force down several more bites with feigned composure.
Wu Zhen looked up, studying his expression carefully, especially his eyes. There wasn’t the slightest hint of moisture—despite eating more than her, his lips were only slightly reddened. It was unexpected; this seemingly mild-mannered young man could handle spice far better than she had anticipated.
A miscalculation.
Realizing this, Wu Zhen stopped torturing herself. She set down her chopsticks and downed another cup of tea. Mei Zhuyu silently refilled her cup. "Drink slowly. The spiciness will fade soon—don’t drink too fast."
As the burning sensation lingered in her mouth, Wu Zhen tapped her fingers lightly, then suddenly stood and walked over to Mei Zhuyu. Cupping his face, she murmured, "Don’t move."
Before he could react, she abruptly bumped her forehead against his nose. A sharp, stinging pain shot through Mei Zhuyu’s nose, followed by an involuntary welling of tears in his eyes.
As he reached up to rub Wu Zhen’s forehead, a single tear escaped his dampened eyes. Wu Zhen wiped it away with her finger, thinking to herself, Sometimes the direct approach works best. Though she did feel a twinge of guilt for hurting his nose like that.
Yet it was Mei Zhuyu who spoke first. "Your forehead is red."
Wu Zhen paused, then lightly touched his nose, teasing, "Your nose is crooked now from me bumping into it."
His nose did hurt, but Mei Zhuyu didn’t mention that, focusing instead on the red mark on her forehead. Most people wouldn’t have been able to dodge Wu Zhen’s sudden move, but Mei Zhuyu could have—except she had told him not to, so he hadn’t.
"Is there a reason for this?" Mei Zhuyu asked thoughtfully. Such abrupt actions usually had a purpose.
Wu Zhen replied, "What if I said I just wanted to see you cry?"
Mei Zhuyu hadn’t expected that answer. He looked slightly bewildered. "Cry?"
Seeing his utterly confused expression, Wu Zhen suddenly found him unbearably adorable. She cupped his face again and whispered, "Don’t move."
Mei Zhuyu stayed silent and, as instructed, didn’t move. He assumed she would bump into him again, but this time, she leaned in and kissed him squarely on the lips.That soft, warm sensation—he had felt it once before. In the days that followed, he was often plagued by chaotic dreams, recalling that day when the mountain flowers were as vibrant as jade. Years of ascetic discipline had been burned to ashes in an instant. Just when he had finally regained some composure through cultivation, today’s sudden touch dragged him back into those alluring, disordered dreams.
Mei Zhuyu’s body tensed, his fingers gripping the armrests of the chair. By the time they parted, Wu Zhen was already sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, smiling as she met his gaze. As if bewitched by those laughing eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and he slowly leaned in again, closing the distance between them.
Wu Zhen wasn’t the type to shy away like most young women. Because she liked him, she had impulsively kissed this blushing young man before her. And because she liked him, when he drew near, she openly returned his inexperienced kisses.
This was different from last time. There was no reason—she simply wanted to.
When Mei Zhuyu finally pulled away, he exhaled sharply, his breathing slightly ragged. But the moment his gaze dropped and caught sight of the exposed skin at Wu Zhen’s collar, his breath hitched again. He turned his head away, struggling to suppress an indescribable restlessness.
Wu Zhen licked her lips, leaning closer to his heaving chest, and whispered in his ear, "Too spicy—my mouth is full of the taste."
Her voice was light with laughter, brimming with delight.
It took Mei Zhuyu a long, disoriented moment to understand what she meant. Poor man—after all these years, he had never experienced anything like this. Stirred by unspeakable thoughts, he was overwhelmed with both shame and guilt, his head bowing helplessly.