Back in the house, seeing that he wouldn’t let go of her hand, Ji Yingying had no choice but to lead him into the bedroom. She took out the bundle she had brought and laid out the clothes and shoes she had made for him across the bamboo couch: “On the day of your father’s first seventh-day memorial, when my brother went to pay condolences at the Yang household, he tried to bring these to you, but couldn’t find you. Would you like to try them on?”
There were outer garments and underclothes, two pairs of shoes, and a dozen pairs of socks. The outer garments were made of white and cyan-colored brocade. The shoes were black cloth boots with thousand-layer soles. Yang Jingyuan pulled her into his embrace and said softly, “No need to try them. They’ll fit perfectly.”
Held in his arms, she couldn’t see his face. Yang Jingyuan’s tears slowly welled up. How could he tell her? He waved his hand at the oil lamp, and the flame was extinguished by the wind from his palm.
“May I stay and watch over you while you sleep? I’ll tell you stories from my childhood, alright?” He released her, bent down to wrap the clothes back in the bundle, and placed it on the low table.
“Alright.” Ji Yingying removed her shoes, climbed onto the couch, and pulled the blanket over herself. Though she knew he had something weighing on his mind, she didn’t want to force him to speak of it.
Yang Jingyuan sat on the bamboo couch and couldn’t help but hold her hand again: “When I was five, the family hired a martial arts instructor to teach me. I didn’t formally become Daoist Huaqing’s disciple until I was twelve. In those six years, he only did one good thing for me.”
“What was it?”
Yang Jingyuan laughed softly: “Keeping you here waiting for me.”
Ji Yingying played along: “Really? Is he that bad? I remember now. The first day I came up the mountain to find you, as soon as we met, the Daoist made me cook and clean the rooms. I even helped him water his medicinal herbs. Did he make you do such things too?”
“That kitchen was built by me, cutting bamboo to make it. Building a bamboo shelter, I could figure out how to do that. But after the kitchen was built, he made me cook for him. How would I know how to cook? Later, only after I bought a sack of medicinal herbs he wanted did he allow the young Daoist acolytes to cook instead. For every martial art he taught, I had to bargain with him.”
Yang Jingyuan spoke tremblingly, his tone full of complaints about the old Daoist, but Ji Yingying could hear the deep affection he held for him. Perhaps such complaints were also a way of venting, allowing him to avoid thinking about Master Yang and Concubine Liu.
“However, I did learn to cook one dish. I’ll make it for you tomorrow.” Yang Jingyuan’s mood gradually calmed, and he gazed at Ji Yingying tenderly, “Sleep now, I’ll wake you early tomorrow.”
Ji Yingying held onto his hand: “You won’t disappear again, leaving me unable to find you, will you?”
“I won’t. I’ll sleep on the bamboo couch in the main hall.”
Reassured by his promise, Ji Yingying closed her eyes peacefully.
Yang Jingyuan turned and walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.
The main hall door was open, and he walked to the entrance. His bundle lay carelessly in a bamboo tray used for drying medicinal herbs. Such a large bundle, plus the sword—Ji Yingying couldn’t have missed them. Yet she hadn’t asked a single question. Nor had she asked where he had been when he wasn’t at the Yang residence. Yang Jingyuan watched the rain dripping from the thatch, his heart in constant struggle.
If he could return safely, he would marry her. But as Master Shu had told him, weapons were blind—what if he died? What if he was maimed?
Let tomorrow’s matters wait until tomorrow. Yang Jingyuan sighed softly.
After a night of rain, the mountain air was fresh with the damp scent of earth. A ray of sunlight shone through the window lattice. Ji Yingying suddenly remembered Yang Jingyuan in her drowsy state. Her eyes snapped open.
Yang Jingyuan sat on the couch, watching her intently.
He hadn’t left. Ji Yingying smiled: “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Yang Jingyuan returned her smile, “Change into something practical, I’ll take you out.”
He wore a gray hemp-cloth short jacket—the first time she had seen him in such simple clothes. Ji Yingying couldn’t help but protest: “How strange that even coarse cloth looks good on you.”
Was this the first time she had praised his looks? Thinking back to that Yang Third Young Master who wore bright-colored brocade and adorned himself with large fresh flowers, Yang Jingyuan felt more at ease now. An inch of gold for an inch of brocade—one brocade garment was worth a hundred taels of silver. He hadn’t told her yet that he had secretly left the deeds to the villa, farms, and shops his father had given him in his eldest brother’s study. He had secretly gone back only to retrieve the sword his father had given him on his eighteenth birthday, not taking even a single piece of clothing. What he wore now was bought by Master Shu. What he currently wore were his old clothes from training on the mountain. He remembered once telling her that the Yang family had plenty of money. But now he had none.
“I’ll wait for you in the courtyard.”
After Yang Jingyuan left, Ji Yingying hugged her blanket and murmured, “Fine, if he won’t say, I won’t ask.”
She changed into practical clothes, quickly put up her hair, and went out.
Leaving Ling’er at home, Yang Jingyuan strapped a bamboo basket to his waist, took a bow and arrows from the wall, and led Ji Yingying along the mountain stream.
Not far ahead, the mountain stream formed a small waterfall.
“Have you ever eaten rock frogs? Like that one,” Yang Jingyuan pointed to a frog crouching on the rocky face.
“That ugly thing? Is it edible?”
The rock frog was the size of an adult’s palm, like a toad, with blackish-brown skin. If one wasn’t paying attention, it could be mistaken for a stone.
Yang Jingyuan smiled: “It has more meat than river frogs, and tastes good. I know how to roast them. Are you scared?”
Ji Yingying was brave and shook her head: “Not scared.”
Yang Jingyuan wrapped an arm around her waist and leaped onto a rock by the pool: “Then catch one.”
Really? Not being scared didn’t mean she wanted to reach out and grab one. Ji Yingying’s eyes widened: “You want me to catch it?”
“Didn’t you say you weren’t scared? It’s fun, try it!” Yang Jingyuan made it as if to guide her hand toward the rock frog.
“No! It’s slimy, I don’t want to!” Ji Yingying pulled her hand back forcefully in fright. The rock was slippery, and she lost her footing, crying out as she fell backward.
Yang Jingyuan shook his head with a laugh, pulling her to his side: “All talk and no action!”
Ji Yingying blurted out: “You said you wouldn’t let me lose you. Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?”
Yang Jingyuan bent down to catch the slow-moving rock frog, tossing it into the bamboo basket, then helped her jump back to shore.
“Wait here, I’ll catch a few more, and we’ll have meat for today’s meal.”
Watching him nimbly move between the rocks at the edge of the pool catching frogs, Ji Yingying regretted her words. She had determined not to pressure him for answers. But she was truly afraid he would disappear again. He hadn’t mentioned anything about marriage—was he planning to break off their engagement?
Her heart began to race as she recalled how he had held her hand last night, unwilling to let go. Was it because he was leaving, because he couldn’t bear to part?
Yang Jingyuan threw the last rock frog into the bamboo tube and crouched on the rock to wash his hands. He knew Ji Yingying’s personality. He had to explain things clearly to her. Steeling himself, he stood up and turned to say: “Yingying, I don’t want to hold you back.”
At the same moment, Ji Yingying spoke: “I’ll wait for you.”
He really did want to break off the engagement. Ji Yingying bit her lip and said loudly: “I’ll wait for you for three years.”
Yang Jingyuan leaped to her side and spoke slowly: “I’m going to join the army. Weapons on the battlefield are blind. I might hold you back for a lifetime. Also, I’ll never return to the Yang family to be the former Third Young Master again. I have no money now.”
“Do you think I wanted to be the Third Young Mistress of the Yang family?” Ji Yingying wrapped her arms around his waist and said softly: “Third Young Master, you’ve been good to me, and it’s you I want to marry. You will come back safely. You’ll marry me properly, with all due ceremony.”
Heaven was still fair to him after all. Though he had lost his father and concubine mother, and no longer had that home, he still had Ji Yingying and Master Shu. Yang Jingyuan held her face in his hands and said earnestly: “Yes.”