Wuzhen was certain this was Chang’an from twenty years ago because of the tall building before her. The building was beautifully decorated, a sea of lights making the surrounding trees look like jade branches. As night was about to fall, it was exceptionally dazzling.
This building was called the Jade Tower, once a famous landmark in Chang’an. However, this expensive Jade Tower had burned down completely when she was eight or nine years old. Later, the old site was bought and turned into a pleasure house, the Yuchao House that Wuzhen often visited.
Wuzhen stood there admiring the Jade Tower for a while, thinking it was truly breathtaking. No wonder the older people in Chang’an always reminisced about this building, calling it Chang’an’s number one tower. Calculating the time, Wuzhen herself was only a few years old now. Although she had visited the Jade Tower, she was too young to remember it clearly. She never expected to have the chance to see this long-famous Jade Tower in detail now.
The sky grew darker, and Wuzhen noticed that the streets around her were still bustling with people, even getting more crowded. Chang’an had a curfew, and people weren’t supposed to be out on the streets at this time. Given the current situation, it must be the three days during the Lantern Festival when the curfew was lifted.
People on the street were wearing thick winter clothes. Despite the cold weather, the joy on everyone’s faces was evident. The Lantern Festival was always lively, with noise and lights stretching like an ocean near and far. Huge lantern towers, wheels, and pillars stood at street corners, visible from afar. Tall wooden frames were set up along the roadsides, hanging various flower lanterns and bird lanterns. Some with peculiar shapes attracted crowds of people to admire them.
However, this bustling scene had nothing to do with Wuzhen, because as she walked among these crowds, no one could see her.
Everywhere were people laughing and looking at lanterns. Wuzhen walked slowly through the crowd, searching for the person she was looking for. She hadn’t forgotten why she was here, but where exactly was Lang Jun now?
Tapping her forehead with her fingers, Wuzhen crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. Suddenly, she turned her head, and her gaze froze. Not far away, under a revolving lantern, stood a small, lonely figure.
It was a child, looking no more than four years old, wearing thick clothes that made him look like a round ball—the kind that could roll down a street if kicked lightly. The child had two small buns on top of his head, a fluffy fur collar around his neck, and chubby cheeks characteristic of children, puffed out adorably.
The child’s features looked somewhat familiar. Wuzhen thought, rubbing her chin, “It can’t be, did Lang Jun look like this as a child? Wearing bright red clothes with little buns, he looks just like a little girl.”
The more she looked, the more she felt this was indeed Lang Jun. Wuzhen stepped towards the child.
On such a night, a small child standing alone under a street lamp, frowning with a confused expression, looking around—it was clear he had gotten separated from his family. Wuzhen approached the child and looked closely at his face. The child couldn’t see her; his eyes looked through her, staring at the bustling street in front, his long eyelashes fluttering.
Wuzhen couldn’t help but smile, pretending to pinch the child’s chubby cheeks. “You were so chubby as a child, how did you grow up to be so tall and thin?”
The child looked around for a while, as if making some decision, then chose a direction and started walking. Wuzhen, unable to do anything else, followed behind the child with her hands behind her back. The child had short legs, so Wuzhen had to accommodate him, walking slowly.
Soon, Wuzhen saw the child suddenly stop in his tracks, as if frightened by something ahead. She looked up and saw a dark shadow in the middle of the street ahead. This shadow had a large mouth, its bright red tongue licking the ground in front. The surrounding crowd seemed oblivious, but it terrified the chubby child. Wuzhen deliberately crouched down to look at the child’s expression, seeing his big eyes wide open, lips tightly pressed together, chubby little hands clutching his clothes. Wuzhen laughed heartily, quite inconsiderately.
So Lang Jun was afraid of these things as a child too.
The child, pinching the hem of his clothes, wore a small expression of trying hard not to cry. He skirted along the wall at the edge of the street, keeping far from that thing in the middle of the road.
For the next stretch of the way, they saw several more demons and spirits mingling in the crowd. When they blocked the path, the child had to turn and find other routes. After turning here and there, the bewildered expression on his face deepened. It seemed he was completely lost now.
The two passed by the palace walls. In the open space at the foot of the high walls, a row of over ten large stage platforms had been set up. Dense crowds gathered around, layer upon layer, with those at the back only able to see the occasional large hat or long sleeve of the performers on stage. The child seemed attracted by this lively scene too, stopping in his tracks and curiously looking up. But he was too short, and there were too many people. He couldn’t see anything, only hearing waves of cheers and applause.
So he stood behind the crowd for a while, then pouted, rubbed his eyes, and continued walking forward.
That curious yet disappointed look was both pitiful and adorable. Wuzhen crouched beside him, thinking that if she could touch people, she would pick up this tiny Lang Jun and let him stand on her shoulders to watch.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t. Wuzhen sighed regretfully.
Somehow, the child had walked to the riverside. It was still very cold in the first month of the lunar year, and the wind by the river was strong, stinging people’s faces. So there were very few people here, even the lights were sparse. The noise and laughter were in the distance; standing here, one could only hear faint, indistinct sounds and see blurred lights.
The lost child sniffled, his cheeks red from the cold. At this moment, snow began to fall from the sky. Light snowflakes landed on the child’s head. He looked up for a while, then lowered his head. Wuzhen saw tears welling up in his eyes, but he stubbornly held them back, refusing to cry.
Such a small child, lost and alone, unable to see any adults, and frightened by those strange things, yet not crying—it was clear that Lang Jun’s composed nature was formed from a young age.
As Wuzhen was observing little Lang Jun with interest, a sudden change occurred. A water weed suddenly emerged from the river surface, quickly binding one of the child’s legs as if alive, and dragged him into the river.
With a splash, the child fell into the water before he could even cry for help. Wuzhen saw the startled expression on that little face and instinctively lunged forward to grab his hand, but she grasped at nothing. Her hand passed through the small hand, and she watched helplessly as the child was dragged into the cold water by a small water spirit.
Cursing, Wuzhen was furious, but she was now only an observer, unable to do anything. However, angry as she was, Wuzhen knew clearly that this was just an event Lang Jun had experienced in the past. Since it had already happened, it meant that Lang Jun hadn’t been harmed this time. Someone must have saved him.
Just as she thought this, Wuzhen heard several footsteps approaching, along with voices.
“Madam, don’t worry. The second young miss has always been clever. She’ll be fine.”
“This child… Sigh, we must find her quickly.” A very gentle female voice sighed, full of worry.
It was a gentle-faced young madam, accompanied by several servants, coming this way. Wuzhen was stunned as soon as she saw this woman. Although her mother had passed away when she was just a few years old, Wuzhen had never forgotten her appearance.
This was her mother, the mother in her memories who would protect and dote on her. When she wasn’t yet the Cat Master and was still afraid of those spirits, this was the person she relied on most. Wuzhen watched the woman approach, and for a moment, her heart surged with bitterness and joy, causing the smile to disappear from her face and a lump to form in her throat.
The woman couldn’t see her. She brushed past Wuzhen and walked to the riverside. Soon, she heard movement in the water and was startled. With a panicked and anxious expression, she cried out, “A child has fallen into the river! Is it Zhen’er? Quick, quick…” As she spoke, she was about to recklessly jump into the river herself but was held back by the servants behind her.
“Madam, let us go down. It’s the dead of winter, you can’t go into the water.”
As they spoke, a servant had already jumped into the water and brought up the child. The madam and servants then realized that this child who had fallen into the water was not the child they were looking for. However, the madam only hesitated for a moment before quickly taking off her cloak and wrapping the child in it, holding him in her arms.
“Such a small child, how did he fall into the water alone here?” The madam held the shivering, blue-faced child compassionately, hurriedly instructing the servants, “First, let’s find a place to change this child’s wet clothes and give him some hot soup. A few of you go around and ask if anyone nearby has lost a child.”
Wuzhen silently followed them, watching her mother rescue her future Lang Jun, then clean him up thoroughly, holding him in an inn to warm up by the fire. She was beautiful, spoke gently, and even coaxed the frightened child to drink a bowl of hot, sweet porridge.
Stroking the child’s head, the madam sighed lovingly, “Such a small child, yet so well-behaved and obedient.” Thinking of something, she looked towards the door with some worry, “If only Zhen’er could be half as well-behaved as this child.”
Wuzhen finally smiled. She scratched her cheek and casually sat down next to her mother, leaning against her shoulder, then reached out to pinch the little Lang Jun in her arms.
The maid beside them comforted the madam, “Don’t worry, madam. The servants at home have gone to search. They’ll find the second young miss soon.”
A moment later, a man walked in with a Wu family servant. As soon as the child sitting in the madam’s arms saw this man, his eyes lit up, and he called out “Father” to him.
Hearing this, Wuzhen straightened up and carefully examined the man who had entered. So this was the previous Cat Master? It seemed that Lang Jun’s appearance might take more after his mother.
The father who had lost his child took his son into his arms, showing an expression of relief as if having survived a calamity, then bowed solemnly to the lifesaver.
“Madam, you have saved my son’s life today. I am extremely grateful. In the future, I will surely repay this debt!”
The madam smiled politely, not thinking much of it. However, Wuzhen was startled, suddenly thinking, could it be that because her mother had saved Lang Jun’s life back then, this previous Cat Master appeared when she was on the brink of death later, saving her life by passing on the position of Cat Master? So this connection was about repaying a debt of gratitude?
As Wuzhen was pondering this, the man left with his son, and the madam also walked out of the inn, preparing to continue searching for her daughter personally. At this moment, a servant brought over a little girl. The little girl wore a fearless, big smile on her face, bouncing into the madam’s arms, sweetly calling her “Mother” and kissing her on the cheek.
The madam’s face, which had shown a hint of anger, turned into helpless tenderness. She held the girl in her arms and gently admonished her not to run off again.
Wuzhen stood at the inn’s entrance, with the previous Cat Master carrying his son leaving on one side, and her mother carrying her daughter leaving on the other. She stood in the middle, seeing little Mei Zhuyu resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, curiously glancing this way. On this side, the smiling little girl Wuzhen also instinctively looked towards him. The two children’s gazes seemed to meet for an instant, then both turned away indifferently. One was lively and active, excitedly gesturing about something in her mother’s arms; the other was silent, turning his head to hug his father’s neck tightly to soothe the fright he had just experienced.
Wuzhen didn’t remember having such an encounter at this age, so from this time probably never imagined that one day she would marry that little boy she had glimpsed on a snowy Lantern Festival night. Lang Jun probably felt the same.
The two groups walked further and further apart, finally disappearing into opposite directions in the night, their paths no longer intersecting.