Xiao Siyu left.
Lanyin personally escorted her to the carriage and had Ting Yun bring over the freshly picked fruits from the estate that morning. Then, under her reluctant gaze, she watched the carriage grow smaller and smaller along the mountain path until it disappeared from sight. Only then did Lanyin turn back to the house.
As she was about to enter the Chuihua Gate, she glanced at the distant Tingyu Pavilion and stopped in her tracks.
“Was that ancient se we played yesterday ours or brought by Official Qi?” she asked Ting Yun.
“It’s ours,” Ting Yun replied. “It was probably bought casually as a decoration. No one has ever played it before.”
Lanyin nodded and then walked toward Tingyu Pavilion. This estate was originally part of her dowry from her grandmother. Even the people in the estate were carefully selected and sent from Jinling. Her grandmother, fearing that she might suffer alone in Bianjing, had prepared many properties for her in advance, worried that she would be left without support.
But in the past, she had rarely come here. She had no time or energy. Occasionally, during harvest season or when passing by for Buddhist rituals, she would only stay for a night before leaving. Not to mention visiting Tingyu Pavilion, she hadn’t even taken a close look at the courtyard where she stayed.
Now, as she walked, she noticed the elegant scenery, which was no less impressive than the meticulously crafted gardens of the noble families.
As she approached Tingyu Pavilion, she saw a bamboo grove in front, with rugged rocks and an old plum tree leaning against the wall, its branches lush and full. Though it was not yet the season, she could imagine how beautiful the bamboo grove and the white plum blossoms would look when snow fell in the depths of winter.
“What are you thinking about?” Ting Yun asked.
“I’m thinking how wonderful it would be to come here in winter to admire the plum blossoms and brew wine,” Lanyin said with a smile.
In the past, she had always been in a rush. Every day at dawn, before the sky had even brightened, she would rise. There were too many things waiting for her to do. How could she have had the leisure to admire plum blossoms or brew wine? Even when invited to such flower-viewing banquets, she went with the intention of building relationships with the noble ladies and gathering information. Her heart was never truly in it, and no matter how beautiful the scenery, she couldn’t appreciate it.
Now, freed from those heavy burdens, she realized how enchanting every flower and blade of grass in the world could be.
Hearing this, Ting Yun fell silent.
Lanyin had intended to enter the pavilion, but catching a glimpse of Ting Yun’s expression out of the corner of her eye, she understood what was on her mind. She took Ting Yun’s hand and said, “Live the life you’re meant to live. Don’t let anyone stop you from moving forward.”
In a few months, Ting Yun would be getting married.
She was to marry her maternal cousin, Song Yan, who was now a minor official in Caizhou. Lanyin had met him—a shy, honest, and dependable man. In her past life, their marriage had been a happy one. Though Lanyin was reluctant to part with her, she didn’t want to stand in the way of Ting Yun’s bright future. She comforted her, “Caizhou is only a few days’ journey from Bianjing. You can come visit me anytime you want, and if I have the time, I can also visit you in Caizhou.”
She coaxed her gently.
But Ting Yun’s eyes reddened.
Ting Yun lowered her head, tears welling up in her eyes and clinging to her lashes. Lanyin held her hand and gave it a light pat. There were many things she wanted to say, but her lips parted only to softly utter, “Go back first. I’ll take a walk around.” After Ting Yun nodded and withdrew, Lanyin continued on her way inside.
Pushing open the door.
Perhaps because it was frequently cleaned, there was no musty smell in the room.
By the half-opened window, an orchid had already sprouted pale yellow buds. At this moment, its green branches and leaves stretched freely in the wind. The spring breeze was pleasant. Lanyin let the window remain open as she stood at the doorway, looking at the arrangement inside the room. It was similar to the one she lived in, only smaller and with fewer decorations, making it appear somewhat simple and unadorned.
The gu se that Qi Yubai had played yesterday had already been returned to its place on the wall.
The silk strings, a deep vermillion color, numbered twenty-three in total. Lanyin walked over and casually plucked a few, and a clear, distant sound resonated. She had learned the qin in her youth and had some experience with the pipa, but she had never touched a gu se before. Compared to the rich depth of the guqin, the sound of the se was purer and more ethereal. She couldn’t help but recall Qi Yubai’s playing from the day before. Her fingers moved, playing the same melody as yesterday, yet even though it was the same gu se, the sound she produced lacked the vastness and expansiveness of Qi Yubai’s. Perhaps it was a matter of one’s state of mind.
Lanyin thought as much.
But she had no particular desire to learn, to change, or to surpass anyone. Everyone had their own way of living. She felt that the way she was now suited her just fine—never stopping her steps for anyone, going wherever her heart led. She glanced at the gu se before her, then smiled freely and withdrew her hand, not intending to take it with her.
As she was about to leave, her gaze landed on a stack of white paper on the table.
The top sheet bore a few ink stains, as if the ink had seeped through from the page above it. It was impossible to tell what had been written, but the force that had pressed through the paper was evident—whoever had written it had an exceptionally strong and powerful hand.
Lanyin suddenly thought of Qi Yubai’s hands—long, well-defined fingers, powerful and steady. When she had been in a dazed state, he had once gripped her wrist tightly through her clothing, trying to take her away from that place.
That snowy day, she had been trapped in a room, utterly isolated. Even when she used a golden hairpin to stab at her own flesh with all her strength, it barely had any effect. Her whole body burned with fever, her mind clouded. Yet, with what little clarity remained, she still clutched the hairpin and stabbed at the intruder the moment she saw someone enter.
At that moment, her only thought was that even if she perished, she could not let him touch her.
But she was far too weak. A strike with all her might yielded no real result, merely leaving a shallow wound on the back of his hand. Just as she was sinking into despair and preparing to fight to the end, she heard him say by her ear—
“Don’t be afraid.”
His voice was clear and cold, like jade. In that moment when she was on the verge of being consumed by fire, it was like a stream of cool water flowing into her heart. She suddenly stopped all resistance and, with eyes blurred with moisture, asked him in a daze,
“…Who are you?”
“Qi Yubai.” His voice remained the same.
“Lord Qi?” Struggling to regain clarity, she widened her eyes to make out his face. At last, she relaxed her grip on the golden hairpin, as if finally letting out a breath. She asked,
“Why are you here, Lord Qi?”
It was strange, really.
At such a moment, when a man she barely knew suddenly appeared, she had instinctively trusted that he would not harm her. Perhaps it was because of his long-standing reputation. Or perhaps—
It was simply because of those two words no one had ever said to her before—”Don’t be afraid.”
Lanyin still remembered that day, when he had said to her—
“I came to take you away.”
Take her away?
Of course, she wanted to leave. Trapped in such dire circumstances, unaware of who had orchestrated it all, yet knowing full well that whatever awaited her would not be good. But by then, her mind had grown hazier and hazier. Like someone drowning, she instinctively reached out to grasp the last floating piece of driftwood—
She reached out to hold onto him, yet, with the last shred of her remaining clarity, she pushed him away with all her strength.
She had told him—
“My lord, I can’t leave. You should go quickly.”
She did not want to drag him down with her.
But—
In the end, that day, neither of them managed to leave.
Lanyin held the piece of paper in a daze, staring at the ink marks on it. Such a refined and noble person in her past life had fallen into such a state because of her… Even though a lifetime had passed, Lanyin still felt that she could never repay the debt she owed him.
…
The Ministry of Judicial Review.
As evening approached, Qi Yubai finally finished handling the official business at hand. He sorted the documents on his desk and called in a clerk to distribute them. Just as the clerk was about to leave, Qi Yubai remembered something and asked, “Isn’t the evaluation of local officials due around this time?”
The clerk confirmed it was.
“There’s someone named Song Yan from Caizhou. I remember he applied to our Ministry of Judicial Review. Go and inquire about his evaluation results,” Qi Yubai instructed, twirling the Buddhist beads in his hand.
Though surprised that Qi Yubai would involve himself in such a matter, the clerk didn’t comment and respectfully acknowledged the order before leaving.
Not long after, Tianqing returned. “Sir, the arrangements have been made, and the person sent by Miss Gu has already made contact with Ruan Dong.”
“Good.”
Qi Yubai nodded. He stood up and walked to the window, gazing at the sunset outside. The last golden rays of sunlight bathed the earth, and as he looked ahead, his right thumb unconsciously rubbed the back of his left hand, which was now smooth and unmarked. The scar that had accompanied him for decades in his past life was gone, but some habits were hard to break.
—
By the time Xiao Ye returned home from his duties, it was already completely dark.
Spring days were short, and nights were long. Fortunately, the residents of Zhuque Street were all noble families who spared no expense on candles and lanterns. Xiao Ye rode his horse back, and the path was well-lit, so he didn’t feel the darkness. From a distance, he could see the grand characters “Chengbo Mansion” written in gold on red wood, glowing under the flickering lights of the corridor. The two stone lions at the entrance looked as majestic as ever, and everything seemed unchanged.
But Xiao Ye still sensed a shift.
The young servant who used to stand tall and full of spirit now seemed uneasy due to the changes in the household, as if they had returned to the state of turmoil from over a year ago when the family first encountered trouble. Back then, Lanyin had helped him, and the household had only been dispirited for a short while before returning to its former state.
But this time…
It was Lanyin who had brought about this situation.
The person who had always stood by his side and helped him had now created this predicament.
Xiao Ye felt an inexplicable irritation rising within him.
He wasn’t usually an emotional person. As a martial artist and especially as a close guard to the emperor, being quick to anger or agitation was a major taboo. In his twenty-two years of life, even when the Earl Manor was on the verge of collapse, he had rarely shown any change in expression. He had always endured silently, solving what he could with his own hands and shoulders, supporting the entire Earl Manor. He never expected that Lanyin’s departure would provoke such intense emotions in him.
In just two days, he felt like a completely different person. He knew this wasn’t good, but he couldn’t control it.
Yet, if asked how to resolve it, Xiao Ye didn’t know. Lanyin’s sudden departure, without any consideration for him, left him both angry and aggrieved. Today, while on duty at the palace, several familiar officials had whispered among themselves, only to fall silent when he approached. But with his sharp ears and eyes, how could he not know what they were discussing? The thought that all of this was caused by Lanyin made him even more unwilling to lower his head to her.
Deep within his heart, however, another voice spoke to him.
You are a man—what does it matter if you lower your head to your own wife? Do you truly wish to watch Lanyin leave you just like that?
His grip on the reins tightened. The horse, pained, let out a soft whinny, which, in the silent night, was loud enough to attract attention. The two young attendants standing outside the gatehouse immediately took notice of Xiao Ye.
“Shizi?” They hurried forward and bowed.
By the time they approached, Xiao Ye had already wiped away the heaviness and contemplation from his face, reverting to his usual indifferent demeanor. He responded with a faint “Mm” before leaping off his horse, casually tossing the reins to one of the attendants, and striding inside.
Steward Xu was waiting for him.
Upon seeing Xiao Ye from a distance, he quickly stepped forward to greet him.
“Shizi.”
“What is it?” Xiao Ye halted.
“Yunfu has already been taken away by the slave traders.” Steward Xu first reported an inconsequential matter.
Xiao Ye was unconcerned. He nodded and was about to leave when the steward called out to him again. Seeing the old man’s hesitant expression, as if he had something to say but dared not, Xiao Ye—who had been raised under the old man’s watchful eye since childhood—softened his voice.
“What else?”