A Shui stood gracefully in the wind and rain, holding a pale purple oil-paper umbrella. Tang Lici no longer looked at her, closing his eyes instead.
She remained standing, refusing to leave.
The storm grew fiercer, their robes soaked through and dripping with water. After what felt like an eternity—long enough for Tang Lici to be certain she wouldn’t leave—he finally spoke softly, “A Shui, you’re a good girl. I’ve said I like you, that I want you to be happy. I’ve also said I want you devoted to me, willing to climb into my bed, to live and die for me… But…” His voice was calm. “A man’s desire for a woman doesn’t mean he respects her, nor does it mean he intends to marry her. Surely, with your experience, you understand this?”
“I understand…” She replied after a long pause, her voice slow and measured. “A man’s desire for a woman… often stems from vanity.”
Tang Lici smiled. “You’re a beautiful woman, naturally elegant, well-read, and submissive—never clinging to any man. The more unattainable a woman like you seems, the more men want to conquer her. Hao Wenhou abducted you because you resisted. Liu Yan is infatuated with you because you remain indifferent. And I treat you well… because your heart doesn’t belong to me.” His tone grew even more composed. “A Shui, no one has ever truly respected you, because no one has ever truly valued you. Men are all the same in the end. To you, Hao Wenhou was a rapist, Liu Yan was a tormentor, and I… am merely a patron.” He opened his eyes, his expression refined and smiling. “An elegant patron, that’s all.”
A bolt of lightning split the sky with a crack. A Shui’s face was deathly pale in the storm. “I know Young Master Tang speaks the truth.”
A flash of purple—she discarded the umbrella and grasped his shoulders. “The storm is worsening. Let’s go.”
He remained seated, unmoving. Rain trickled down his silver-gray hair, soaking into his collar, icy to the bone. A Shui tried to pull him up with effort. “If we stay any longer, neither of us will endure it. The rain is too heavy.”
The rain was too heavy—the umbrella could no longer shield them.
“Let’s go.”
“Beg me.” Tang Lici’s voice was as gentle and refined as before. “Beg me to take you away, and I will.”
A Shui was silent for a moment before whispering, “I… beg Young Master Tang… to take me… home.”
In an instant, his arm tightened around her waist. She felt the wind and rain grow wilder around her, the trees blurring as if she were floating, swiftly carried into the boundless twilight.
Tang Lici’s body was cold against hers. She clung to his shoulders, and after a while, she sensed something amiss. Raising her hand, she saw her palm stained bright red—covered in blood.
An elegant patron…
A courtesan was still a courtesan. A maid was still a maid.
The storm raged on, growing fiercer as they traveled. To her, the wind howled like a beast, the rain pelting so hard she couldn’t open her eyes. The chaotic noise in her ears sounded like trees swaying and collapsing. The ten-mile journey passed in what felt like no time at all. By the time she could see clearly again, they were already in the backyard of Apricot Sun Bookstore.Tang Lici's white robe had been washed pale by the rain, showing no traces of bloodstains. His silver-gray hair cascaded down, appearing even smoother when wet from the rain. He stood straight despite the wind and rain. Had one not known he was severely injured, it would have been impossible to tell... A Shui straightened up, her lips parting slightly before she could speak. Tang Lici smiled faintly, "You begged me to come to your home, yet you leave me standing at the door?"
A Shui paused briefly but didn't respond, opening the back door instead. The house was empty—Feng Feng wasn't there. As Tang Lici stepped inside, he asked, "Where's Feng Feng?" A Shui sighed softly, "I left him with Granny Liu. I'll go fetch him soon. You... please wait in the guest room first." She hurriedly pushed open the door and headed toward Granny Liu's house.
Feng Feng had been having a grand time at Granny Liu's—tearing the window paper and breaking several eggs. Granny Liu alternated between scolding and doting, never quite mustering the heart to give him a proper spanking. When A Shui carried him back, he was still giggling and babbling, his little hands striking with surprising force. Granny Liu must have suffered quite a bit from his mischief. A Shui felt deeply apologetic, offering repeated apologies while silently resolving to repay Granny Liu's kindness should she ever face difficulties in the future.
Returning home, she hesitated briefly at the door. Young Master Tang... refused to accept favors from a courtesan. When in good spirits, he might converse intimately and share drinks with so-called courtesans, but... in his heart, he had never truly regarded her as a friend. Even when severely injured and unable to maintain his usual composure, he still insisted on preserving his dignity—lest he feel utterly degraded...
She stood frozen at the doorway, branded as a "courtesan"... She, too, felt deeply humiliated. Yet people always prioritized their own feelings, blind to the sorrows of others.
Maintaining friendship was difficult, but hurting others was always easy—sometimes even without intent.
"Ehh... uh... uh..." Feng Feng tugged at her hair curiously as she lingered at the door, pulling hard. "Niu..." He still couldn't say "mother," addressing her as "Niu Niu" instead. A Shui smiled faintly, stroking his back before stepping inside quietly.
Assuming Tang Lici would be resting, she entered and softly closed the door, glancing toward the guest room.
Small stains dotted the floor—blood. Treading lightly, she peeked inside to find Tang Lici resting his chin on his hand at the table, eyes closed. His damp white robe remained on his back, fresh crimson slowly spreading across it. Clearly wounded, droplets of rainwater mixed with blood fell to the floor. Yet his expression was serene and gentle, as if merely dozing lightly—ready to awaken or depart at any moment.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Holding Feng Feng, she quietly shut the guest room door and turned toward her own room. Feng Feng stared curiously at Tang Lici's door, his tiny pink finger pointing at it. "Uh... uhh..." A Shui carried him back, changed his clothes, and bathed him. When she stepped out with the water basin, the guest room remained utterly silent.He was clearly still sitting by the table in feigned slumber, unmoving. A Shui gazed at the door and sighed softly, her lips parting but still saying nothing. She wanted to persuade him to change his clothes, to urge him to rest in bed, to ask how badly he was injured... Should they call a doctor? But faced with that gentle demeanor, she couldn't bring herself to utter a single word.
Elegant prostitution...
With a calm expression and soft words, the moment those five syllables were spoken, they were no longer friends. The rift between them was too clear, too vast—so distant that even ordinary concern felt presumptuous. Silence was all that remained.
Outside, the storm raged, lightning flashing and thunder roaring. Feng Feng babbled toward the guest room for a long while, but seeing that A Shui didn’t respond, she pouted and eventually fell silent, drifting off to sleep shortly after.
The neighboring houses had all gone to bed. Through the half-closed window, only a few lit dwellings were visible in the pitch-black, howling night. The wind and rain roared like tigers and stampeding horses, shaking the entire house as if it might collapse. She stared out the window, listening to the storm, sitting for a long, long time. Then, with a faint smile, she realized she didn’t even know whether she should sleep or stay awake.
Knock, knock, knock...
Suddenly, there was a sound at the door. A Shui startled, rising to her feet. On a night like this, could soldiers still be making rounds? Were they here to inspect for suspicious strangers again? Or had Yang Guihua changed her mind and sent someone specifically to find Tang Lici? Despite her doubts, she still opened the door.
Outside stood a young woman dressed in black, her features bright and clear, a long sword hanging at her waist. Seeing the door open, she beamed. "Could we stay here for the night? The storm is so fierce—we missed our lodging and don’t even know where to eat! We got lost, too!" A Shui returned a gentle smile. "Miss, you are...?"
"My surname is Yu—Yu Tuan'er," the girl replied cheerfully. "There are three of us. We wandered around and only saw lights in your house. May we stay?"
"Three?" A Shui hesitated slightly before opening the door wider. "My home is humble and cramped, but if you don’t mind, you may take shelter in the main hall." Apricot Sun Bookstore wasn’t large, and she wasn’t its owner. The proprietor, surnamed She, lived in the western part of town, leaving the bookstore under A Shui’s care while she resided in the rear courtyard. A Shui had grown up there, practically She Lao’s foster daughter, but the bookstore was no grand estate—the rear courtyard had only three rooms: a guest room, a bedroom, and a modest hall.
The black-clad girl smiled sweetly, her expression free of worry, and turned to call out, "Come in! This sister is very kind—she’s letting us stay!" A Shui stepped back, making space, her gaze flickering toward the closed guest room door. Tang Lici was inside, still silent.
A man in yellow entered, a red-feathered fan tucked behind his neck and a black-clad figure slung over his back. A Shui glanced at the unconscious person—their face covered in black cloth, limbs limp as if dead, legs dangling brokenly. The yellow-clad man, however, was carefree. Though drenched, he laughed heartily. "Forgive our intrusion, miss! But might there be any steamed buns or dumplings here? We’ve come all the way from Shaolin Temple, fleeing for our lives in such haste that we’ve missed two meals!"
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