Chapter 6 — Crossing the Moonlight at Khê Quân

You fool, get lost! The fuzzy-haired young Prince popped his head out from within the embrace of Xie Qi, gazing at me with wide-eyed curiosity.

A-Quan, older sister, what did that gesture you just made mean? It looked so imposing!

Oh no. I had been so blinded by fury that I had nearly corrupted a child. Flustered, I reached out and immediately covered the young Prince’s eyes, desperate to pretend it had never happened and hoping he would quickly forget the entire display. Xie Qi let out a soft, low chuckle. Pei Cing remained on his knees upon the blue stone tiles, his eyes filled with utter disbelief as he watched the scene of our easy, shared intimacy. I did not deign to grant him another glance, simply lifting my skirts and turning to board the boat. Suddenly, I heard his voice call out softly:

A-Quan.

My footsteps did not falter; I continued straight onto the painted pleasure boat. The gentle breeze of Jade Lake brushed against my cheeks, blowing away the foul, stifling atmosphere that had lingered on the shore. Having grown up in the capital, Xie Da had rarely experienced these delicate, southern-style vessels, and he darted about the deck in pure excitement. Fearing he might stumble, I signaled for Matron Chu to follow him closely. Once the deck finally grew quiet, I stood alone at the prow, and only then did I release a heavy, ragged breath. I truly owed a debt of gratitude to Pei Cing. Had he not been so utterly shameless, it might have taken me far longer to finally let go. As the sun began to beat down harshly, there was no shelter at the front of the boat. Just then, an oil-paper umbrella appeared, casting a cooling shade over me. Assuming it was Matron Chu, I turned to offer my thanks, only to find myself staring into a pair of deep, fathomless eyes. I had no idea when Xie Qi had moved to stand behind me. He held the handle with one hand, his other hand tucked behind his back. Seeing my stunned expression, he spoke first:

When I was a child, I heard the Grand Tutor say that the scenery of Jade Lake in Changning was like a painting. Seeing it with my own eyes today, I realize the reputation was well-deserved.

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Who did not know that this notorious hell-raiser had once nearly caused the elderly Grand Tutor to resign on the spot during his days in the capital? Noticing the skepticism in my gaze, Xie Qi coughed awkwardly.

Rumors are not to be trusted. In truth, the Grand Tutor and I were on excellent terms; when I returned in triumph from the frontier, the old gentleman even invited me to his residence for wine on several occasions.

I could not help but crinkle my eyes in amusement. My grandfather and the Grand Tutor were old friends. I knew the man suffered from a severe wasting disease and had long ago sworn off every drop of wine. Seeing my reaction, Xie Qi gave up his charade and admitted with a shrug:

Fine, the truth is, he did not invite me for wine—he invited me over to thrash me with his teaching rod.

With that, he lowered the umbrella, fully enveloping us in its shade. I reached out to take the handle from him, but he lifted his wrist slightly, keeping it just out of my reach.

Is Miss An going to lecture me on how men and women should not touch, and that this violates the rites?

He looked down at me, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

But your status has changed. You are the savior of the young Prince, and as his uncle, shielding his benefactor is only natural.

Having spent many years in military camps, he had little regard for cumbersome etiquette. Yet, his flimsy justifications were impossible to argue against. I withdrew my hand, choosing not to debate him further, and offered a graceful, silent curtsy. The lake shimmered with dancing light; beneath the canopy of the umbrella, it felt as though we had carved out our own private world.

In the days that followed, I diligently fulfilled my duties as a hostess, escorting Xie Qi through every street and alley of Changning. For reasons I could not fathom, even when I did not speak a word, he always seemed to discern my deepest thoughts. If the sweet fragrance of osmanthus cakes wafted from a street corner, he would stop naturally. If a wooden hairpin on a vendor’s stall was carved with exquisite detail, he would quietly purchase it. What surprised me most was that he had secretly begun to learn sign language. Each time we parted ways, he would form the sign for love and smile at me:

Goodbye, A-Quan. See you tomorrow.

When we met again, I would helplessly try to teach him the correct sign for goodbye, but by evening, he would stubbornly sign love again. Meeting my slightly flushed cheeks, he would laugh with mock innocence:

Oh, I remembered it wrong again. Surely A-Quan would not mind teaching me just one more time?

I felt a flutter of awkwardness and bit my lip, turning my face away, yet my heart swelled with an unexpected, radiant joy. That afternoon, as I stepped off my carriage, I turned to find Pei Cing waiting for me. After several days of absence, dark circles underscored his eyes, and he looked thin and haggard. He hurried toward me, his voice fraught with urgency:

A-Quan, I did not bring Yun Hua today; I came alone.

I pulled my gaze away with cold indifference and, lifting my skirts, turned to walk straight into the estate.

A-Quan!

He grew frantic, his eyes rimmed with red, and he made to rush toward me. Two guards immediately stepped forward, restraining him outside the gate. As the distance between us grew, his voice, thick with desperation, drifted across the air:

A-Quan, you must come to the Autumnal Feast tomorrow! I have handcrafted a rabbit-shaped lantern for you, exactly like the one from the Lantern Festival.

In truth, I had already intended to attend the Autumnal Feast. In the past, no one in Changning had ever wanted to include me in their festivities. The young lords and ladies of noble houses would catch sight of me and retreat to a distance, so I had long since stopped caring for such crowded affairs. But this time was different. Xie Qi had told me that, in all his years, he had never once witnessed the Autumnal festivities of the South. With him by my side, I would no longer have to endure the sting of loneliness.

That morning, after finishing my medicine, I sat before the bronze mirror. Matron Chu and Chun Yin had risen early to meticulously prepare my attire. I gently smoothed the pale yellow, silk-woven gown draped over my shoulders.