Ji Cheng suddenly remembered the five-colored thread, an item unfamiliar to girls from northern Jin. Last year during the Qixi Festival, when she was captured and taken to Tianxiang Tower, she had to change into a Persian dancing girl’s costume. With no means of self-defense, she could only hide the five-colored thread with a needle in her hair bun. She thought that if she encountered a rogue, she could at least aim for their eyes. Since she never had to use it, she later forgot where it ended up.
Now, hearing Shen Che suddenly ask about the five-colored thread, Ji Cheng wasn’t sure what he meant, so she replied, “I don’t know. Ask Aruan about it.” Last year, Ji Cheng’s five-colored thread was given to her by Shen Ruan. She was too lazy to bother with such things.
After saying this, Ji Cheng wanted to scratch her head again. She found it strange that she and Shen Che could chat so casually in their current situation as if nothing was wrong.
“Who did you tie your five-colored thread to last Qixi?” Shen Che asked.
Ji Cheng looked at Shen Che suspiciously. Why was he so interested in Qixi and the five-colored thread? Anything Shen Che showed interest in, Ji Cheng instinctively wanted to avoid.
Ji Cheng’s evident wariness caused Shen Che’s eyes to darken once more. He wondered who should be wary of whom between them.
The next evening, while catching spiders and praying for skill, Shen Ruan asked Ji Cheng, “Sister Cheng, did you thread your five-colored thread this time?” Shen Ruan remembered that last year Ji Cheng hadn’t even heard of the five-colored thread. “Young Master Liu might go to the Ying River tomorrow. You could use your thread to tie him to you then.”
Ji Cheng smiled but didn’t respond. The five-colored thread, which carried a girl’s sweetest wishes, was useless to her. It only served to highlight how pathetic and laughable her reality was.
Shen Ruan played with the sachet containing her five-colored thread. The usually carefree young girl’s eyes now showed a sadness beyond her years as she stared unfocused into the distance.
Ji Cheng, looking at the dejected Shen Ruan, knew she still couldn’t let go of Chu Zhen.
The Qixi Festival felt particularly cheerless. Shen Ruan was quiet, and Ji Cheng didn’t say much either. The Old Madam, observing this, felt it was “a scene of desolation” and sighed, “Ah, since Ayan and Acui got married, the house has become unbearably quiet.”
Shen Ruan forced herself to be cheerful and shook the Old Madam’s arm, saying, “You shouldn’t have indulged First Brother and Second Brother’s temperaments. You should have just found wives for them. When Fourth Brother passes the autumn imperial examination this year, he’ll also need to discuss marriage. Oh, and Third Brother should be called back to start a family too. In less than a year, the house will be lively again. You’ll probably complain about the noise then, Old Madam.”
The Old Madam tapped Shen Ruan’s nose and said, “It’s good that I still have you to keep me company, old woman that I am. A girl becomes more precious if she marries later.”
Ji Cheng thought to herself that the Old Madam was quite perceptive, having seen through Shen Ruan’s feelings and speaking for her benefit. As Ji Cheng was thinking about Shen Ruan, she heard the Old Madam mention her, “Look at your Sister Cheng. Even though she’s engaged now, her family probably can’t bear to part with her and will keep her for a couple more years before she gets married.”
Ji Cheng looked at the Old Madam upon hearing this, feeling conflicted. Although she hated Shen Che, she didn’t extend that hatred to the rest of the Shen family, especially the Old Madam, who had always treated her, as an outsider, very well. The Old Madam’s words seemed to be meant to enlighten her. Once engaged, as long as the marriage hadn’t taken place, there was always hope.
Shen Ruan, however, didn’t catch the Old Madam’s hidden meaning and playfully whined, “It would be best if I never got married. Isn’t being a daughter at home better than being someone’s wife?”
The Old Madam chuckled and didn’t correct Shen Ruan. She turned to ask Ji Cheng, “Did your sister-in-law send out the Liu family’s birth date card? Has your father replied yet?”
Ji Cheng shook her head, “It should be any day now.”
On the evening of Qixi, although her beloved wasn’t in the capital, Shen Ruan excitedly came to fetch Ji Cheng early to go out.
To be honest, Ji Cheng was still traumatized by the Qixi Festival in the capital. If it weren’t for avoiding Shen Che, she wouldn’t have made excuses about Qixi to avoid going to Nine Li Courtyard. Now, seeing Shen Ruan’s rare excitement, she had no choice but to accompany her. Thankfully, with Nan Gui’s company, Ji Cheng felt slightly more at ease.
The crowd at Ying River was as dense as ever. Ji Cheng held onto Shen Ruan tightly, fearing she might get lost. People jostled each other to release lanterns into the water, which was already covered with flower lanterns carrying young girls’ wishes as if the Milky Way in the sky had poured down to earth.
Ji Cheng stood vigilantly by the water, watching her surroundings. She hadn’t released a lantern; there were no wishes left in this life for her to entrust, she could only muddle through.
Ladies by the water bent or lowered their heads, using their hands to scoop water and urge their wish-laden flower lanterns to quickly float to the Bodhisattva. As a result, Ji Cheng, standing upright, had a particularly clear view. With just a slight turn of her head, she saw Shen Che standing by the water. In front of him was a woman wearing a veiled hat. Although her face wasn’t visible, Ji Cheng instinctively knew it must be Fang Xuan.
But hadn’t the Prince of Nan Prefecture said a few days ago that Fang Xuan had already gone south?
Shen Ruan, having released her lantern and just straightened up, followed Ji Cheng’s gaze and saw Shen Che. She immediately jumped up, waving to Shen Che and calling out loudly, “Second Brother, Second Brother!”
Even if Shen Che wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard Shen Ruan, he couldn’t, because she had already nimbly lifted her skirt and run over.
Ji Cheng followed sluggishly from a distance, not wanting to approach and greet Shen Che.
Shen Ruan looked at the woman hiding beside Shen Che and curled her lip in contempt. “Second Brother, what are you doing? Didn’t the Old Ancestor say she was going to arrange your engagement? She had her eye on Sister Dong. Aren’t you slapping Sister Dong’s face by doing this?”
Ji Cheng had never heard of this nonexistent Sister Dong, but Shen Ruan could certainly make things up on the spot.
Shen Che said, “Go home early after releasing the lanterns.” As he spoke, his hand lightly supported Fang Xuan’s elbow, preventing her from falling into the water as she stepped from the stone by the water onto the solid ground of the shore.
Seeing Shen Che so attentive to that woman, Shen Ruan became angry. “Then you take me home.”
Shen Che looked over Shen Ruan’s shoulder at Ji Cheng. “I trouble Cousin Cheng to take Aruan home early.”
“I’m not going home,” Shen Ruan stomped her foot. “Second Brother, where are you going? Wherever you go, I want to go too.”
Shen Che glanced at Ji Cheng. Ji Cheng pretended to rub her eyes as if sand had gotten into them, completely ignoring Shen Che’s look.
Fang Xuan, hidden under her veiled hat, giggled and said, “Let’s go together. We were just about to go to Ju Xing Tower up ahead.”
Ju Xing Tower was right by the Ying River. Its cuisine wasn’t particularly special, but due to its prime location, it offered a panoramic view of the river of lanterns on Qixi night. As a result, it was always fully booked.
Shen Ruan took two steps forward and forcefully inserted herself between Shen Che and Fang Xuan, tugging on Shen Che’s sleeve. “Second Brother, let’s go.”
Shen Che could only helplessly allow Shen Ruan to drag him away, whether intentionally or unintentionally leaving Ji Cheng and Fang Xuan behind to talk.
“Miss Ji,” Fang Xuan slightly lifted her veiled hat, revealing half her face.
Ji Cheng didn’t understand how Fang Xuan knew her. Where had she heard about her? Ji Cheng couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking of the Western Regions incident and Mei Changhe. Regarding Fang Xuan, Ji Cheng did feel genuinely apologetic for dragging an innocent person into the whirlpool of events, even if it was out of desperation.
As for Shen Che, Ji Cheng had never doubted that he wasn’t the one who had told Fang Xuan about her.
“Madam Fang,” Ji Cheng greeted politely, maintaining a slight distance.
Fang Xuan turned to walk side by side with Ji Cheng. “I haven’t been back to the Central Plains for a long time. People in the Western Regions don’t celebrate Qixi. It’s rare to encounter such a wonderful festival, so I came out to release lanterns. Who knew I would chance upon Second Young Master? I’ll be heading south in a couple of days.”
Ji Cheng didn’t quite understand Fang Xuan’s meaning. It seemed as if she was deliberately clarifying her relationship with Shen Che to Ji Cheng. Wasn’t that absurd? She even specifically added that she would be leaving in a couple of days.
“Madam Fang is leaving in a couple of days?” Ji Cheng feigned surprise. “A few days ago at the Prince’s mansion, I had the pleasure of hearing your ethereal music. I wish I could have the chance to be in your company daily. Now that I’ve finally met you, you’re leaving again. It’s truly regrettable.”
Ji Cheng was speaking politely, and Fang Xuan knew it. As a woman, she probably understood a woman’s heart better than most. Ji Cheng had likely been hoping for her to leave for a long time but still had to keep up appearances. “I’m a restless person,” Fang Xuan said. “I’ve heard that the people of the Southern Frontier are skilled in singing and dancing. I admire that greatly. But life is too short. I wish I could travel the whole world, learning the music of different places. The more I know, the more I realize how shallow my knowledge is.” Fang Xuan was speaking of her grand ambitions, indicating that she definitely wouldn’t stay in the capital.
Fang Xuan didn’t want to become a stumbling block between Shen Che and Ji Cheng. These two were clearly at odds; otherwise, how could Shen Ruan mention some Miss Dong in front of Ji Cheng, and Shen Che not explain at all? She only hoped that their cold war wasn’t because of her.
Hearing Fang Xuan’s words, Ji Cheng felt immense admiration for her. Fang Xuan’s life could be considered worthwhile. Although her early years were tumultuous, she met Shen Che early on and gained his wholehearted protection. Yet she saw through the ways of the world and knew that Shen Che couldn’t be relied upon. As a woman, she had carved out her place in the world. It seemed that even years later, people would still remember her celestial music. If she were to write books and establish her legacy in the future, it wasn’t impossible that she might achieve lasting fame.
In contrast, Ji Cheng found herself confined to a small space, struggling between interests, utterly mundane. Yet she perversely enjoyed moving back and forth among those abacus beads, even finding it fascinating.
Ji Cheng and Fang Xuan were ultimately two different types of people. One was immersed in the mortal world, while the other was like pure snow from beyond the frontier, transcending worldly concerns. Even if Ji Cheng wanted to get close to her, the interaction between people often only needs a moment to know whether they can become close friends.
For someone as perceptive as Fang Xuan, Ji Cheng felt that no amount of scheming could be used against her, both out of reluctance to tarnish her and out of a sense of shame. The wishes that Ji Cheng herself couldn’t fulfill, she saw a shadow in Fang Xuan. She only hoped that Fang Xuan could persist in her dreams throughout her life, letting future generations know that a woman’s talents and abilities should not be underestimated and are worthy of lasting fame.
Thus, Ji Cheng sighed, “I truly envy you.”
Fang Xuan smiled and said, “Everyone envies others because there’s no such thing as a perfect person. In my eyes, you’re the one more worthy of envy.”