The Xie Household.
On the eve of the New Year, Xie Miao’er hadn’t planned on staying up all night with the two little ones. The youngest, Xie Ying’er, was already nodding off during dinner, her little head bobbing up and down. Soon after, she was carried off to bed by Aunt Zheng.
However, Xie Teng, being at an age full of boundless energy, had somehow gotten hold of a tube of fireworks after dinner. Clinging to Xie Miao’er, he begged to set them off.
Xie Miao’er asked him, “Where did you get this?”
Xie Teng’s round eyes sparkled with excitement as he replied, “Grandma bought it for me.”
The “grandma” he referred to was Aunt Zheng, the caretaker who looked after them.
Clearly, Aunt Zheng was fond of these siblings, going so far as to buy him toys for fun.
In the capital, due to its dense population, there had been several waterway accidents with many casualties in the past. This eventually led to a ban on fireworks. Around the New Year, the chief magistrate would send people on patrol, even during the dead of night, to prevent accidents.
Grand Tutor Xie had always been a rule-abiding man. Even though some wealthy families in the capital secretly indulged their children by letting them play with fireworks in the courtyard, as far as Xie Miao’er could remember, the Xie family had never had such things.
So when Xie Teng brought it up, Xie Miao’er couldn’t help but feel a bit tempted herself.
Using the excuse of accompanying the child, she secretly played along. By now, she was quite adept at this sort of thing.
Since Xie Ying’er was already asleep and they didn’t want to disturb her, the siblings quietly went to the alley.
At this hour, the alleys were silent and empty. The time for setting off firecrackers had long passed, and every household had likely finished their New Year’s Eve dinner and was staying up for the night.
The little alley was deserted, with only the occasional sound of laughter drifting faintly from neighboring homes.
Holding the firework tube, Xie Teng watched intently while Xie Miao’er, one hand covering her ear and the other outstretched, lit it with a fire starter.
Xie Teng wasn’t scared at all. He stared fixedly at the tiny spark, and as soon as the fireworks burst into the air, he started shouting excitedly, waving his hands wildly.
Ever since their parents had passed away, Xie Miao’er knew it was rare for her brother to be this happy, and she couldn’t help but be infected by his joy.
She also took a tube for herself, lighting it cautiously. Watching the fleeting light bloom and fade, a surge of emotion filled her heart.
Suddenly, Xie Teng grabbed her sleeve with his small hand and looked up to ask, “Sister, are you okay?”
Though young, he was growing more aware and had likely picked up on the gossip around them. He understood the difficulties Xie Miao’er faced and worried about her being bullied.
Xie Miao’er lowered her head and saw the little dimples on the back of his hand. She asked in return, “Are you worried about me?”
Xie Teng pouted and nodded earnestly, “I’ll grow up, Sister. Wait for me.”
Perhaps it was the mysterious bond of blood ties, but his innocent words softened her heart. She squatted down to pat the back of his head and said gently, “Alright. When you grow up, what will you do?”
Xie Teng clenched his small fists, making the dimples on his hands disappear, and declared, “Protect you!”
Xie Miao’er chuckled, but then, realizing how precious his childlike sincerity was, she quickly put away her smile. Gripping his shoulders, she looked at him seriously and said, “Alright.”
Xie Teng’s words made Xie Miao’er ponder her distant future.
Once Lu Huaihai crossed that threshold, she wouldn’t have any reason to linger by his side anymore.
Would she truly be willing to settle in the rear courtyard and become someone’s concubine?
No, absolutely not. Even if that person was Lu Huaihai, it was impossible.
As she remained silent, a faint sound of horse hooves gradually reached her ears.
The sound felt familiar, and just as Xie Miao’er turned her head to confirm her suspicions, Xie Teng asked her again, “Sister, are you happy?”
She nodded slightly, then turned around to look at the shadow at the mouth of the alley.
“Eavesdropping is hardly the behavior of a gentleman, you know?”
How much had he overheard?
She had already spotted him.
At her words, Lu Huaihai didn’t dismount. Instead, he leisurely rode forward, emerging from the corner.
During the day, he had been busy with ancestral rituals and was still dressed in a light moon-white robe, which he hadn’t changed out of even now.
Yet, Xie Miao’er’s breath caught. For a moment, it felt as if everything before her was illuminated.
Her great moon had arrived.
He was as cool and pure as moonlight spilling onto the world, clear and untainted.
Seeing the stranger approach on horseback, Xie Teng shrank behind Xie Miao’er.
She patted his hand reassuringly and said softly, “It’s late. You should go back to bed now.”
Xie Teng peeked half of his face out from behind her, glancing cautiously at Lu Huaihai while asking, “Sister, who is he?”
Xie Miao’er thought for a moment about how to explain and then said, “Don’t be afraid. He’s a friend of your sister, here to visit me.”
Inwardly, Xie Miao’er thought, let her shamelessly call General Lu her friend for now!
Only then did Xie Teng release his grip on Xie Miao’er’s sleeve. Though still a bit worried, he obediently listened and took hesitant steps back into the courtyard, looking back every few steps.
Lu Huaihai approached, dismounted, and only then did Xie Miao’er see his expression clearly.
Moments ago, his face had been backlit, making it difficult to discern his features.
“I’m sorry,” she said instinctively, noticing his stern and somber expression. She tugged at her sleeves nervously and added, “I didn’t notify you before I returned this time.”
Feeling guilty, she softened her tone.
Lu Huaihai held the reins and stood in front of her, saying calmly, “I didn’t come to interrogate you.”
Then why had he come here, especially on New Year’s Eve? Xie Miao’er was puzzled and asked, “Then…”
“Maybe just to eavesdrop,” he interrupted, teasing her. Before she could respond, he continued, “Do you welcome uninvited guests?”
Xie Miao’er smirked slyly and replied, “No, I don’t.”
Worried she might have taken it too far, she quickly added before he could react, “But you’re not a guest. Shaoye, after all, this house was redeemed by you for the Xie family. Let’s go inside and talk.”
Not a guest? Then what was he?
…A friend?
Not bad.
At this moment, Lu Huaihai had no way of knowing how heavy the weight of the word “friend” was in her heart.
Not a mere acquaintance met by chance or a fleeting connection, but the only comfort she had when her body was frail and broken—a “friend” who had been her distant yet constant support.
Xie Miao’er wasn’t overthinking it. The Xie family courtyard wasn’t particularly large, and she was currently preoccupied with figuring out where to tether the horse.
There was a relatively spacious spot under the sunny side where laundry was hung to dry. Xie Miao’er took the reins to lead the horse over.
The horse snorted dismissively at her, blowing through its nostrils. Only after Lu Huaihai gave it a firm pat on the head did it settle down, obediently bending its legs and lying down.
The sight made Xie Miao’er want to laugh. Taking advantage of the moment, she stroked the horse’s smooth, glossy mane and asked Lu Huaihai, “What’s its name?”
Lu Huaihai looked surprised. “Why would a horse need a name?”
Well, that was just like him. Xie Miao’er didn’t dwell on the question but instead grew curious about something else. “Shaoye, did you sneak out again this time?”
Lu Huaihai didn’t expect that this was how she perceived him—someone prone to sneaking off. After all, the first time they met, he had been in a heated argument with his family. Still, he tried to defend himself, “I didn’t.”
“Good,” Xie Miao’er breathed a sigh of relief. After all, the Su family had kindly allowed her to spend the New Year at their residence, and it wouldn’t look good if she turned around and “abducted” their son.
She led Lu Huaihai into the house and brewed him a pot of red date tea. “Warm yourself up.”
The main hall was simple, with no unnecessary decorations. A few chairs that hadn’t yet been tidied up and a couple of fruit trays on the table were remnants of their New Year’s Eve dinner.
She seemed much more relaxed while at the Xie household.
Lu Huaihai lowered his gaze and took a small sip of the tea.
Xie Miao’er poured herself a cup of tea as well and asked, “Shaoye, so what urgent matter brought you here in the middle of the night?”
On the way here, Lu Huaihai had also asked himself that question.
Why was he so eager to see her?
Compared to their previous long separation, this time it had only been ten or so days—truly a brief interval.
Facing the cold wind that rushed toward him, he attempted to dissect his own heart.
This time, no matter how much he tried to deceive himself, it was no longer possible.
He had fallen for her.
For a girl who was still incomplete, with seven apertures only six open—still one short of true understanding.1
Even if charm were presented to a blind person, it would be futile. Lu Huaihai set down his teacup, choosing not to bring up such matters.
Tapping his finger joints lightly on the table, he turned the question back on her: “Someone snuck away quietly, without even leaving a word. Tell me, should I not have come to find her?”
Xie Miao’er tried to defend herself but sounded less than confident. “And yet you say you’re not here to interrogate me.”
Lu Huaihai glanced at her sideways. “If I were here to interrogate you, I would have thrown you onto the back of my horse and taken you back already.”
Imagining such a scenario, Xie Miao’er shuddered and immediately caved. “Shaoye, if there’s a next time, I’ll make sure to inform you first thing.”
That was somewhat satisfactory. Lu Huaihai added, “I’ve been leaving early and returning late recently. You should at least let Bai Zhou notify me.”
Xie Miao’er nodded obediently and said, “Understood. It’s already well past the third watch. Shaoye, you’ll have to stay the night.”
At this hour, it was impossible to make it back before the curfew.
Xie Miao’er, suddenly enthusiastic, offered to find him a room. Leading the way, she cheerfully showed him around the Xie family home. “Look, that over there is the kitchen, and this is…”
Earlier, when Lu Huaihai had watched her from horseback, she had seemed like a true elder sister—mature and steady—guiding her younger brother. Yet now, standing before him, she was immediately lively and childlike again, even eagerly explaining where the offering fruits on the incense table had been bought.
Of course, it is only those with a clever mind whose occasional moments of innocence seem endearing. For fools who lack understanding, such innocence is simply foolishness.
The faint curve at the corner of Lu Huaihai’s lips was something even he didn’t notice. Meanwhile, Xie Miao’er, walking ahead, was slightly troubled.
The main hall, unoccupied since Xie Jinfeng’s passing, seemed unsuitable. The remaining rooms were either cold and shadowed or already in use. The most decent option was actually the attic.
In the end, Lu Huaihai ended up sleeping on a makeshift bedroll in her room.
Lacking an extra pillow, Xie Miao’er gave him hers and used a padded coat, rolled into a bundle, to support her own neck.
She said, “We’re just a small household. Unlike the Lu residence, we don’t have heated floors or stoves.”
Resting his head on her pillow, the silk fabric faintly carried her scent. Lu Huaihai couldn’t close his eyes, his breath almost stifled.
“And yet, here, you’re happy,” he said.
Despite the Lu family’s strict rules, she had obtained the greatest freedom her status could afford. In many ways, she was undeniably more at ease here in the Xie household.
In truth, this was her home.
A subtle sadness, like a needle, pricked at Xie Miao’er’s heart. It hurt, but she couldn’t find the words to express it. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced a smile and said, “Because here, I’m the eldest. Everyone has to listen to me.”
Lu Huaihai suddenly sat up and called her name seriously, “Xie Miao.”
Xie Miao’er responded, turning on her side on the bed and propping her chin with one hand to look at him.
He asked, “…Are you happy?”
In the Lu household, by my side—are you happy?
—
Footnote:
- The phrase “seven apertures, only six opened (七窍才开了六窍) refers to the traditional Chinese concept of seven orifices (eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth) symbolizing full sensory and intellectual capability. Here, it suggests she is not yet fully matured or experienced, both emotionally and mentally.