As the cloth was untied, Ji Cheng found herself momentarily blinded by the brightness before her. It was not just the light, but the dazzling peach grove beneath her feet that caught her off guard. The grove stretched endlessly, a sea of peach blossoms in full bloom, despite it only being March. While the plains’ peach blossoms had already withered, those on the mountain were at their peak.
The grove was illuminated by countless candles or bonfires, though Ji Cheng couldn’t quite discern which. From her vantage point, she could see the flames forming the character “Cheng.” She covered her mouth in surprise and turned to Shen Che, incredulous. “You…”
Shen Che simply smiled at her without speaking.
Truth be told, Ji Cheng hadn’t expected Shen Che to put so much thought into her birthday. Setting aside all rationality, she was indeed pleased. After all, there was only one such day in a year, and she wanted to enjoy it.
The pink peach blossoms, bathed in the firelight, turned a shade of orange-pink, resembling the clouds at sunset or the juicy flesh of an orange.
“Shall we go down? Are you hungry?” Shen Che wrapped his arm around Ji Cheng’s waist and leaped off the large rock they were standing on.
The sudden weightlessness made Ji Cheng gasp, and she clung tightly to Shen Che’s neck. He carried her over the peach grove, the evening breeze brushing against her hair, making her feel like a celestial maiden eloping from the heavens.
The Si Bing Residence was situated at the edge of the peach grove, built along a cliff. From the bamboo platform extending over the cliff, one could see a crescent-shaped lake formed by a clear river flowing at the mountain’s base, serene and peaceful.
Ji Cheng asked Shen Che, “Shall I cook?”
Like the San Hao Residence, the Si Bing Residence had no servants, so everything had to be done by themselves.
“Today is your birthday; how could I let you work? I’ll do it,” Shen Che said, rolling up his sleeves.
“But you don’t know how to cook, do you?” Ji Cheng replied. “Besides, isn’t it said that a gentleman stays away from the kitchen?”
Shen Che rubbed his nose. “How could I dare call myself a gentleman in front of you?”
Indeed, he had a good sense of self-awareness, and Ji Cheng smiled, her eyes curving with amusement.
Shen Che leaned down and pecked her lips lightly. “I’ll take a little advantage first.”
Ji Cheng had expected that dinner would be grilled meat, as Shen Che seemed only capable of that. But when he placed a steaming bowl of noodles in front of her, she realized she had overestimated him.
“Longevity noodles, eat up,” Shen Che said, handing her a pair of bamboo chopsticks.
Ji Cheng looked at the clear broth, with a specially fried egg on top, and thought it probably wouldn’t taste good. “I don’t eat scallions,” she refused to take the chopsticks from Shen Che.
He glanced at the finely chopped scallions on the noodles. “Hmm, I didn’t consider that. Eating scallions does affect the taste when kissing.” He took the bowl and picked out the scallions for her.
Resting her chin on her hand, Ji Cheng asked, “Why did you only cook one bowl? Aren’t you eating?”
“Can you finish such a big bowl by yourself?” Shen Che retorted.
That left Ji Cheng speechless.
One bowl, and two pairs of chopsticks. Though the taste wasn’t great, they quickly finished the noodles as they playfully fought over them. Despite being rational to the point of coldness, they acted childishly when competing for the last bite, even clashing chopsticks.
“How can you shamelessly steal the birthday girl’s noodles?” Ji Cheng complained.
While tidying up, Shen Che replied, “Don’t you think it tastes better when we fight over it? Seeing how much you enjoyed it, I might just make a living selling noodles in the future.”
Ji Cheng looked at his face and mocked, “Sure, if Second Young Master Shen is willing to sell noodles, you’ll surely make a fortune.”
Shen Che laughed, “Then, would you be in charge of collecting the money, my lady?”
He could turn anything into a flirtatious remark.
After dinner, they rested for a while before Shen Che urged Ji Cheng to bathe. He had already prepared hot water for her. “Wash your hair too, and I’ll help you dry it when you’re done.”
When Ji Cheng emerged from her bath, she found Shen Che had also freshened up somewhere, now dressed in a moon-white robe with dark silver embroidered lotus patterns, his hair still damp.
He let her lean against him, his legs curled protectively around her, with the cliff just beyond. From there, they could see the crescent lake below.
“What’s that?” Ji Cheng asked, noticing a bright spot on the lake.
As soon as she spoke, she realized what it was—fireworks. In the capital, such displays were usually reserved for the Emperor’s birthday. In Jin, they were seen during grand celebrations by the Tan and Chen families.
Shen Che continued drying her hair, only glancing at the fireworks when she spoke. “Fireworks.”
One after another, they bloomed like camellias in the sky, vibrant and dazzling.
The fireworks lasted so long that Ji Cheng felt as if time had stopped. She mentally calculated the cost, estimating it to be no less than three thousand taels of silver.
Turning to Shen Che, she knelt between his legs, her nose brushing his lips. “Did you arrange the fireworks?”
“Yes,” Shen Che replied softly.
Ji Cheng parted her lips slightly and bit his chin. If he wanted to play seriously, she was game.
She gently licked his lips, prompting Shen Che to sit up eagerly, his hands gripping her waist.
Ji Cheng wriggled, pushing his hands away. “Don’t move. Let me.”
She was a captivating enchantress.
Ji Cheng stood, pulling Shen Che to his feet, leading him step by step into the peach grove.
“I never told anyone, but I prepared a dance for the talent show back then,” Ji Cheng’s voice was slightly hoarse, like a distant starry sky, with a twinkling quality.
She led Shen Che to a stone bench at the grove’s edge. “Shall I dance for you?”
Shen Che hadn’t expected such a treat.
“I’ll be right back.” Ji Cheng kissed his cheek lightly, then flitted back inside like a butterfly.
When she returned, she wore a deep purple layered gauze dress, her hair restyled with white jade butterfly hairpins, now with two pairs, each with white jade bells.
She handed Shen Che a bamboo flute, originally his. “Can you play along with my dance?”
Shen Che raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit challenging?”
“No,” Ji Cheng replied with a sly smile.
As the flute’s melody rose, the white silk in Ji Cheng’s hand flew out, like the long tassels of a phoenix’s tail, swirling around her. She performed a cloud sleeve dance, similar to Su Yun’s, yet distinct.
Ji Cheng’s waist was more supple, her gaze more alluring. The flute’s high notes gradually softened, afraid to rush and miss the grace of her movements.
The white silk quickened, and the flute followed suit, light and lively. As the silk spun like flowers, Ji Cheng’s dark purple dress transformed into rose red.
Shen Che’s eyes lit up, and the flute wove a second tender melody.
From rose red to orange-yellow, then cherry pink, goose yellow, primrose green, aqua, ice blue, and frost white.
The dance unfolded in nine layers, each a different color, like petals blooming and falling, weaving flowers into threads.
The horizontal pattern wove Shen Lang’s poetry. The central line was understood by none, speaking neither of sorrow nor weariness, only of longing.
As the flute’s sound faded, the final layer revealed a figure as radiant as jade, clad only in a barely-there white gauze skirt, standing amidst the firelit peach grove.
If this wasn’t a peach spirit, then none existed.
Ji Cheng approached Shen Che and whispered, “Do you think I would have won the talent show?”
Shen Che replied, “Even I couldn’t see your costume changes. If that doesn’t win, it would be unreasonable.”
“This is my secret,” Ji Cheng said, straddling his lap.
Shen Che dared not place his hands on her waist, leaning back slightly. “I didn’t plan for you to offer yourself tonight.”
He chuckled.
“Why not start planning now?” Ji Cheng teased, kissing his ear and twisting her waist, exposing Shen Che’s feigned indifference.
His hands encircled her back, touching her spine. Even if he hadn’t intended it, now it was Ji Cheng who wouldn’t let him go.
With a heart in turmoil, how could one speak of self-control?
In the morning, when Ji Cheng opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of peach blossoms overhead. She shifted her legs slightly, wincing at the soreness.
Shen Che’s arm was still draped over her waist. Ji Cheng frowned, wondering how eager he must have been to not even make it inside.
Their impromptu outdoor escapade had certainly thickened her skin, thanks to Shen Che.
“Awake?” Shen Che leaned over her, removing a peach blossom from her cheek. “Now I understand what it means for someone to be more beautiful than flowers.”
Ji Cheng was still drowsy, unsure why she had woken. She shifted irritably, causing petals to slide down to her chest.
“Look, your skin is even paler than the peach blossoms,” Shen Che remarked, his gaze lingering on her chest.
It was broad daylight, with no night to hide any sins. Ji Cheng pulled the blanket up, trying to shield herself from his unabashed stare.
“Let me see the color here,” Shen Che said, pulling the blanket from her feet.
Where there should have been color, Ji Cheng’s skin was flawless.
Her complexion and smoothness were akin to a newborn, making one want to kiss and nibble on her adorable little bottom.
But as people grow, toxins accumulate, and creases darken, turning brown. Fortunately, they remain hidden, unnoticed unless closely examined.
Yet Ji Cheng was unique, her skin unblemished, as pure as a newborn’s.