Chapter 3 — The Sedan Chair That Doesn't Wait

The first time I heard his name again was through the introduction of the local matchmaker. I still do not understand why Xiao Lin Yan suddenly returned to our humble village, nor why, by some twist of fate, he happened to offer me a ride along the way. I did not think much of it at the time. All I truly remember is that before we parted ways, Xiao Lin Yan handed me a warm, freshly steamed bun.

The night is late, he had said, his voice soft. If the young lady of the To family does not mind, please, take this to soothe your hunger.

The bun was piping hot, its skin delicate and its filling generous. With every bite, a warmth seemed to spread directly into the hollow of my heart—a gentle kindness that even Shen Thanh had never deigned to offer me.

The following day, Xiao Lin Yan had not yet departed. He came and knocked softly against the bamboo gate of my small yard.

Yesterday, you were caught in the rain, he noted, his expression concerned. Now that autumn has arrived, the weather is turning colder. This is a tonic to ward off the chill that I requested from the village physician. I hope you will not find it lacking, Miss Soc Nguyet.

As he spoke, he covered his mouth and coughed twice. I remembered the day before—how the umbrella in his hand had been tilted entirely to shelter me—and my heart ached with sudden sorrow. Our home was meager; we had nothing but a pot of freshly brewed tea, hardly enough to host a guest of his stature. I spoke in a small, hesitant voice.

I have just brewed some hot tea, Master Xiao…

The invitation for him to stay for a cup remained stuck in my throat, but he merely crinkled his eyes into a smile and replied gently, Then, this Xiao shall be shameless and accept a cup.

When Aunt Trieu arrived and saw us together, she was so overjoyed that she could not hide her beaming grin. She immediately brought up the subject of marriage once more.

Truly, a talented man and a beautiful woman; a match made in heaven, she exclaimed. Young Master Xiao, when do you intend to come and propose to our Miss Soc Nguyet?

I felt my cheeks flush crimson, and I dared not lift my head. From above me came a voice, steady and calm as jade.

Everything shall be decided by the wishes of the young lady of the To family.

Those words echoed in my mind, refusing to fade. They compelled me to look back to the day Shen Thanh achieved the title of Top Scholar and the Emperor granted him a scroll of imperial grace, left blank for his request. I had truly believed he would take my hand then and ask me to be his bride. Instead, he had turned cold, ordering me to leave the capital and return to the village. I had retreated home, my eyes stinging with tears. When word of his success spread through the village, the neighboring women would tease me with wide, knowing grins.

Master Shen surely intends to use that imperial favor to ask the Son of Heaven to bestow a marriage upon you, Soc Nguyet, they would say.

He sent you home first so he could prepare the eight-man carriage to bring you into the capital with the honor you deserve.

Back then, I believed every word of it. I would blush with joy, my heart brimming with anticipation. But I waited until my eyes grew weary, and still, Shen Thanh did not come for me. The village women began to gossip, whispering that he had surely abandoned me. I cried and made the journey to the capital alone, sobbing as I spoke to him.

Everyone says you no longer want me, I told him.

It was Shen Thanh who had consoled me so tenderly back then. The nobles in the capital are arrogant and cruel, he had whispered. You come from a humble background; if you were to enter my manor now, you would only suffer humiliation. Wait until I have firmly established my footing, and I will surely wed you with the grandeur you deserve, so that no one may ever look down upon you. Soc Nguyet, I do not wish to bring you into my home in a hurried, lowly fashion only to see you endure such bitterness. Are you willing to wait for me? To wait until I can carry you through the gates in an eight-man carriage?

Hearing this, I had cast aside all doubts, wiping away my tears to nod in agreement. I waited one year, two years, then three. I waited until just yesterday, when I asked him once more, and he told me to keep waiting. While lost in these memories, the gate to my courtyard rattled again. It was the young attendant who served Shen Thanh, bearing a letter from his master, delivered by hand.

Do not be disheartened, young lady, the attendant said. My master says your bridal robes are already being crafted. As soon as he finds his footing in the court, he will bring you home.

It had always been this way. Shen Thanh always demanded I wait. He only knew how to grasp my hands and repeat the same promises: Wait a little longer for me. Wait until I have settled all matters, wait until I am standing on firm ground, wait until I can come for you with an eight-man carriage.

Yet, I waited until Shen Thanh brought his parents from the village to the capital, waited until his rank grew higher with each passing season, and waited until the Shen estate expanded into a sprawling mansion. The only thing I could never seem to wait for was the day he would actually marry me. Shen Thanh would hold my hands and beg for my understanding again and again, pleading for one more year, and then another. Only Xiao Lin Yan, who remained as gentle and steady as jade, looked at me and said, Whenever you are ready to be a bride, that is when I shall come to propose. I will wait for you.

I did not read Shen Thanh’s letter. If this had been in the past, I would have already been up before dawn, clutching a basket of eggs, running to the village schoolmaster to have him read the words to me. I could not read his calligraphy, but I had listened to every syllable with such devotion. After hearing the contents, I would hide my joy, blushing as I asked the master to write a reply. Then, I would head to the capital, hand the letter to the attendant at the gates of the Shen residence, and return home alone, cradling nothing but my own naive hope.