It was no wonder Han Linfeng harbored his suspicions. Though he led a dissolute and unrestrained life, his exceptional looks had made him the object of countless beauties’ affections in the capital. So-called “chance encounters” — a handkerchief conveniently dropped in a garden, a perfectly timed collision outside a mountain temple — were too numerous to count.
Yet what concerned Han Linfeng most was not the romantic entanglements of young men and women.
Since his arrival in the capital, he had been subjected to no end of probing from those with hidden agendas, and the circumstances of his first encounter with Su Luoyun had been peculiar and difficult to account for.
This was something that could ordinarily be handed off to a servant to deal with. Han Linfeng thought a moment, then stepped down from the carriage himself and walked toward the Su family’s carriage.
The young man’s cries were too wretched to ignore. Without standing on ceremony, Han Linfeng went straight up and lifted the curtain of the carriage — and what met his eyes was a young man with a face streaked with tears, holding a slight, frail young woman whose eyes were tightly shut.
The jolt must have loosened her hair, for her dark bun had come undone, and beneath the scattered strands of black hair lay a delicate and pretty face, drained entirely of color — frail as a flower spirit with a broken wing, as if the next breath of wind might carry her away.
The very woman who had remained perfectly composed with a blade pressed to her throat now lay utterly still and without spirit, and that pallor in her cheeks and lips stirred in him an inexplicable reluctance to look away.
In that moment, all the suspicion in Han Linfeng’s heart somehow dissipated like smoke.
The situation was urgent and he did not wish to delay. Frowning, he gathered the unconscious woman into his arms in one motion, then turned to the tearful young man: “My residence is just nearby, and there is a physician on call — this is the most expedient option.”
Having said this, while the lane was still quiet in the early morning and the household gates had not yet opened wide, before any crowd could gather, the tall man strode off at a swift and steady pace, carrying the unconscious woman into the Shizi’s residence.
Guiyan and Xiangcao were left staring at one another in stunned alarm.
Guiyan’s instinct told him his sister had been carried off by a scoundrel. He scrambled down from the carriage on all fours and ran after the tall figure disappearing ahead of him at a swift pace.
When Su Luoyun slowly came to, the darkness before her eyes was as absolute as ever — but an unfamiliar sensation against her body set her immediately on alert.
When she reached out to feel the bedding beneath her, everything her hand touched was soft and smooth, entirely unlike anything she knew.
She knew at once that this was not her own bed.
Where on earth was she?
From beyond the bed curtains, an elderly voice was speaking: “Shizi, this young lady suffered a previous head injury, and the channels remain obstructed. I have just examined her pupils and found no response whatsoever — this cannot be remedied by medicine or needles alone. I can administer acupuncture to offer some relief from the recurring headaches, but for the eye condition, there is no treatment I can provide at present.”
Han Linfeng was listening to the household physician’s assessment when from within the bed curtains came a voice doing its utmost to remain composed, though threaded with unmistakable alarm: “Guiyan, Xiangcao — where are you?”
Guiyan quickly stepped forward, lifted the curtain, and took his sister’s hand: “Sister, I’m here — do not be frightened.”
He soothed her gently, then explained that after their carriage had been struck by the Beizhen Shizi Han’s carriage, seeing his sister unconscious, the Shizi had brought them into his residence to receive treatment.
What he did not mention was that the Shizi had carried her in his arms. Such a matter, touching on his sister’s reputation, was not something he should speak of further. Still, the Shizi had surprised him — he had genuinely come to her aid.
Having understood what had happened, Luoyun thought to herself that this was entirely unreasonable. Even if she needed medical attention, she could have been taken back to her own residence — what sense did it make for her to be brought into the Shizi’s household?
But Han Linfeng came forward at that moment and said: “It was my driver’s carelessness — knowing the lane entrance was narrow, he still failed to slow down, and caused this collision. I owe the young miss an apology.”
As he spoke, his phoenix eyes lifted slightly, his gaze sincere, his broad shoulders and long arms folded into a bow — he carried himself with an ineffable elegance, and had he been addressing any other young woman, she might well have found her cheeks flushing and her heart fluttering.
What a pity that exceptional male beauty was of absolutely no advantage whatsoever before a blind woman.
Su Luoyun offered the Shizi a polite word of thanks, and made haste to leave the residence.
Han Linfeng, however, said: “I heard just now from young Master Su that you were on your way to a bookshop to purchase books. Since I have caused this inconvenience, I cannot very well let the two of you make the trip for nothing. While the physician writes out a prescription, please allow young Master Su to go to my study and select whatever books may be of use — consider it a token of apology from me.”
Su Luoyun was well aware that households of such standing often possessed books that were privately commissioned editions — not only expensive, but the sort that ordinary people could not buy even with money to spend.
But she had no wish to become entangled with this sort of dissolute young lord. If Guiyan were to leave, would she not be left alone with the rakish Shizi?
She was on the verge of declining when Han Linfeng spoke again: “I have other matters to attend to and cannot entertain you further. Once the books have been collected from the steward in a little while, he will see you both home.”
With that, a flutter of wide sleeves, and the Shizi had swept out with easy grace.
The steward smiled and turned to Su Luoyun: “Miss Su, please rest a while. Your maidservant and our household attendants will see to your needs. I will take young Master Su to collect the books and return at once.”
Su Luoyun found that this sort of noble person simply spoke their mind and left no room for refusal. Thinking it best to conclude the matter quickly, she stopped demurring and only told her brother to go and come back promptly.
Before long, Su Guiyan had filled a whole crate of books with the steward’s assistance, while Su Luoyun, helped by the residence’s maidservants, had her hair tidied and put up again, and accepted the prescription the household physician had prepared.
She declined the Shizi’s offer of a sedan chair, and slipped quietly back to Tianshui Lane with her brother through the rear gate of the residence.
Though Su Luoyun had no thoughts of marriage, she still valued her own reputation. If she were to return home riding in the Shizi’s sedan chair, the entire neighborhood would be talking about her for days.
Guiyan, seeing that his sister had no serious injury, gradually set his worry aside. The Shizi’s driver had caused a great deal of trouble, yet the Shizi himself had shown none of the arrogance typical of pampered young lords — he had been remarkably amiable, and also far too generous.
That whole crate of books contained many rare editions unavailable anywhere on the market. Yet most of them were in pristine condition, without a single turned page — evidently the Shizi himself was more like the man who claimed to love dragons but fled at the sight of a real one. He had acquired a great many books to furnish the appearance of a learned man, without being in the least a lover of books.
Rain had begun to fall outside, and a light mist, thickening gradually, hung over the courtyard and made one feel drowsy.
Guiyan was older now, but some habits lingered from childhood. The room felt damp and cold, and he did not like to sit alone — so he picked up a book, settled beside his sister on the daybed, and read with quiet pleasure. Since she could not see, he became her eyes, reading aloud to her.
Luoyun leaned against the cushions and let her brother rest his head in her lap, listening to him read as the rain drummed steadily outside. But as the pages turned, a faint and elusive fragrance drifted to her nostrils.
Luoyun could not help but attend to it carefully. The scent was distinctive and yet strangely familiar — she felt as though she had encountered it somewhere before.
Unable to resist, she inhaled deeply several times, then reached out to take the book from her brother and lifted it to her nose.
Yes — this distinctive fragrance was emanating from the very pages of the book.
Guiyan knew his sister had devoted herself to the study of fragrances these past two years, and seeing her take interest in the scent of the book, he laughed: “Sister cannot even let the smell of a book pass unexamined — truly a woman obsessed with fragrance. Though the scent is rather pleasant — I like it too — so when I was selecting the books I even asked the steward about it. The steward told me the fragrance comes from Liangzhou, made with the roots of the local camphor trees found there. It smells lovely and also repels insects — kept especially in the study to protect the books from damp and bookworms.”
Guiyan had said it only in passing, but Luoyun’s expression grew gradually more serious as she heard it, as though she was trying to recall something she could not quite bring to mind.
Guiyan looked up and saw his sister’s brow furrowing, and could not help asking what she was thinking about.
Luoyun came back to herself with a start, and only smiled faintly, saying she felt rather tired and wanted to sleep, and told Guiyan to go back to the study to review his lessons.
Once Guiyan had gone, that distinctive and faint fragrance still lingered in the air.
Luoyun frowned, drawing the scent in slowly, but could not recall where she had encountered it before. With the sound of rain as her companion, she drifted at last into a light sleep.
In the haze, she seemed to be back aboard a boat, when suddenly a strong arm seized her from behind, and a particular fragrance enveloped her mouth and nose—
Luoyun jolted awake, and found the scent still hovering around her. She bit slowly down on her lip, and finally it came back to her — on that day aboard the boat, when the attacker had covered her mouth, it was this very fragrance that had lingered at his fingertips.
For the moment, she could not untangle what connection this implied.
Could it be that Han Linfeng knew that attacker, and had lent him books, so the scent had transferred to his fingers? Or had the attacker simply happened to purchase this Liangzhou camphor root fragrance for his own use?
Thinking that the fugitive attacker had seemed connected to the rebel Cao Sheng, Luoyun’s instinct told her the latter was the more likely — a mere coincidence.
That Shizi Han cut every appearance of a man of no scholarly inclinations whatsoever, given to pleasure and without ambition. For him to know the sort of desperate criminal capable of such violence, and to have masterminded a scheme involving the abduction of a rebel, seemed even less plausible than trying to prop up a heap of mud against a wall.
After thinking it through carefully, Su Luoyun gradually steadied herself. Perhaps it truly was a coincidence — the attacker had simply come across that same fragrance as well.
Luoyun had not thought of that dangerous encounter on the boat for a long time. She had not expected that a chance whiff of fragrance would today stir up those unpleasant memories.
Su Luoyun offered up a quiet, private prayer — that she would never again cross paths with that attacker. She was a blind woman who asked for nothing more than to raise her brother to adulthood in peace. She could not afford to be drawn into a catastrophic whirlpool of intrigue.
She waved her hand to disperse the lingering scent in the air, and called out: “Xiangcao, bring some of the light pear-blossom fragrance — let’s air the room with it.”
As for Han Linfeng — in truth he had not left the residence at all. When the steward mentioned that Miss Su had slipped out through the rear gate, he could not help but raise an eyebrow.
He had not thought it through carefully enough. A young woman from a respectable household would, naturally, want nothing to do with someone like him.
Han Linfeng did not take offense. He only gave a self-deprecating laugh, then stepped past the unread new books with their unturned pages, pressed a corner of the bookshelf, and revealed the hidden compartment within — from which he retrieved the volume of Three Strategies he had been reading of late.
He opened the pages, and wave after wave of light fragrance rose to meet him, soaking into his fingertips. The margins were covered in dense annotations in a cramped but forceful hand, the tiny characters betraying considerable strength of brushwork even at so small a scale.
But with his eyes fixed on the page, Han Linfeng found his thoughts drifting unbidden — back to the image of that Miss Su with her hair come loose and disheveled, her face drained of color, lying with closed eyes across the bed.
With her eyes shut, there was none of that boldness visible — only a frailty that stirred something oddly tender.
Outside the window, rain mist hung like gauze over the rooftops, like thoughts struck loose, scattered by a clean wind into the far and formless distance.
Because of the knock to the head from the carriage collision, Su Luoyun had not gone to the shop, choosing instead to rest quietly at home for two days. But the pear-blossom fragrant ointment at Shouwei Zhai had nearly sold out, and the shop kept sending people to urge the eldest young miss to come in.
Xiangcao told them the eldest young miss was unwell, but the shop manager who came personally to press the matter could only smile with rueful helplessness: “Under ordinary circumstances I would of course be sympathetic to the eldest young miss. But ever since she paid that visit to the Prince Consort’s residence, the orders for fragrance have grown considerably — there is not a customer who is not from a Duke’s household or the principal wife of a Marquis’s family, and every single one of them wants their order filled urgently. I cannot afford to offend a single one of them.”