Chapter 2 — The Sedan Chair That Doesn't Wait

Every time I visited, Shen Qing wore an expression of heavy, lingering anxiety. He would lead me to fly kites just as we did when we were children, recite poetry to me, and gift me jade hairpins. As the daylight began to fade, he would escort me to the gate. The moonlight fell across his face, softening his profile and lending him an air of profound gentleness. Finally, gathering every ounce of my courage, I asked:

Shen Qing, I want to ask you something. When will you finally bring me into your home as your wife?

My voice grew fainter and fainter, until it was swallowed entirely by the sudden, torrential downpour. His umbrella was tilted completely toward me, leaving half of his body drenched in the rain. He furrowed his brows tightly and said in a hushed tone:

Wait until I have secured my footing.

He paused, then added, Moonlit, if there is nothing of great importance, do not come here so often from now on.

He had spoken those same words more times than I could count. Suddenly, a wave of grief washed over me, and I felt the urge to weep.

Are you not afraid that I might marry someone else?

He froze for a moment before letting out a soft, dismissive laugh.

I am not afraid.

The silver he offered me, I refused to take. The umbrella he tried to press into my hand, I would not touch. The fruit preserves I had spent three days staying up late to prepare were never handed over to him. I wiped away my tears and shoved the preserves into my mouth, piece by piece. My mother used to say that when one is sad, eating something sweet makes the future feel less bitter. Yet, even with my mouth full of sugar, my heart remained so bitter that it stung my eyes. The rain was relentless, and I had no money to hire a carriage to leave the capital. As I trudged along through the downpour, a young servant called out from behind me:

Young lady, please wait! The night is dark and the rain is heavy; my master wishes to offer you a ride as he is heading in the same direction.

I wiped my eyes and turned to look. A man in blue robes stepped out of a carriage. He was as gentle as polished jade, an umbrella in his hand.

This road leads to Moon Valley Village. Are you trying to return home? I happen to be heading back to my hometown as well, so I might as well give you a lift. Please, step inside. With the rain this heavy, you must be careful not to catch a chill.

He wore a warm smile and reached a hand toward me. His fingers were long and fair, much like the scholar himself, carrying an air of quiet refinement. I did not realize until that moment that his umbrella was tilted entirely over my head. It was not tilted only a fraction like Shen Qing’s had been, but fully, shielding me completely from the storm. Only when I saw the raindrops landing on the young man’s own shoulder did my grip on my sleeves finally loosen. I tentatively reached out for his hand. It was incredibly warm—so warm that it made me want to cry again.

The youth sat reading a book for a long time. I stole glances at his profile from the corner of my eye. His features were like fine jade, and in his eyes, it felt as though an entire expanse of starlit sky was hidden. As luck would have it, his carriage passed right by my house on the way home. I was the first to hop down. By then, the neighbors had all extinguished their lamps. Only Mrs. Zhao, who lived next door and had acted as my matchmaker, came running over with an umbrella in hand, full of joy.

Oh my, this is a blessing as vast as the heavens! What favorable wind has brought Young Master Xiao back to us? And Moonlit is here too? This is wonderful, simply wonderful!

So he was Xiao Lin Yan, the man the matchmaker had intended for me to marry. Xiao Lin Yan nodded slightly in greeting:

Miss Su.

Only then did I realize that he had known who I was all along. I recalled our time in the carriage, how I had been furtively peeking at him. He had appeared completely engrossed in his book, yet I realized now that he had been holding it upside down the entire time. My face flushed hot instantly. Xiao Lin Yan had long since departed, but the heat in my cheeks refused to fade.

When we were small, he had fallen into the river and, unable to swim, was rescued by me. After that, he would often bring his books and sit beneath the ancient pagoda tree in front of my house, remaining there for the entire afternoon. I would play shuttlecock or fly kites, while Xiao Lin Yan would read from start to finish. Occasionally, he would lift his head, lost in a daze as he watched me run back and forth. I once thought he had scrambled his brains from the water, so I curiously asked him:

Xiao Lin Yan, did the water make you dim-witted?

He looked up at me and smiled faintly. I laughed along with him. He really was a fool. Fearing he would be bullied, I patted my chest and declared:

Do not be afraid; I will protect you.

He said nothing, only stared silently into my eyes. Not long after, his family moved to the capital. I still remember the day he left; he sat beneath that old tree as he always did, but that day, he held no book. He simply sat there, silently watching me for an entire afternoon. I stood from a distance and smiled at him. He truly had been made foolish by the water—so foolish that he could only stammer whenever he tried to speak to me.