As Li Wu walked toward Shen Zhuxi, she shrank back a step, her expression the very picture of a child caught red-handed in some wrongdoing.

“You — how did you end up here?” she said, stumbling over her words, a distinct smell of wine about her.

Li Wu looked at the wine bowls strewn all over the ground, and his temper flared.

“Oh my… Li Brother is here, and with it getting this late, I really ought to be going…”

The middle-aged woman who had lost both to Jiu Niang and to Shen Zhuxi noticed his expression and rose to her feet with a studied air of indifference, brushing off her seat and preparing to leave.

“You—” Shen Zhuxi could not help herself and took a step after her, but, recalling that Li Wu was right beside her, she stopped. Her gaze met Li Wu’s, and her voice dwindled: “You haven’t paid what you owe yet…”

Li Wu turned his head and said in a low voice: “Zhu Niang, you lost — and now you’re trying to run?”

The woman surnamed Zhu stopped in her tracks and turned back with an embarrassed smile. “How could I do such a thing? I simply didn’t notice for a moment…”

She fished out a string of copper coins, walked over, and placed them into Shen Zhuxi’s hands with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

“Li Niang, what good luck you have. And to think you claimed you’d never played before — I’d say you’re an accomplished player…”

She delivered a pointed string of backhanded compliments, then glanced at Li Wu standing nearby and thought better of saying more. Zhu Shi felt her now-empty purse with a rueful expression and left.

The other women in the courtyard soon offered their farewells one after another. Jiu Niang rose at her leisure as though she had not seen Li Wu at all, hooked her arm through Sui Rui’s beside her, and said warmly: “Come, let’s head over to my shop and carry on — I’ll stir up a few small dishes, and you can tell me how that roast chicken of yours is made…”

Sui Rui shook her arm free, saying without much courtesy: “Drunk as you are, and trying to wheedle my family’s recipe out of me with a few side dishes…”

“There’s no need for the full recipe — just give me a hint, the tiniest hint about the technique, and I’ll tell you what Scholar Wen likes to eat…”

Sui Rui seemed genuinely tempted; her resistance weakened noticeably. Jiu Niang pulled her along without difficulty and off they went.

In the blink of an eye, only a handful of women remained in the courtyard. With Li Wu present, they exchanged glances in constrained silence, nothing of the earlier liveliness remaining.

“I’m taking her home.” Li Wu said to Zhou Sao.

“She drank a full bowl of Wannian Chun — she’s a bit drunk. When you get back, give her a bowl of sober-up bean sprout soup. Do you have bean sprouts?” Seeing Li Wu shake his head, Zhou Sao went to the kitchen, brought out a handful of bean sprouts, wrapped them in the lotus leaf that had held the roast chicken, and handed the bundle to Li Wu.

“After the sober-up soup, have her sleep it off early and she’ll be fine.” Zhou Sao said. “She didn’t drink all that much — please don’t scold her.”

“Why would I scold her?” Li Wu frowned.

Zhou Sao said nothing, and let her gaze fall on Shen Zhuxi. Li Wu looked over too. That downcast look of hers — wasn’t that exactly the look of someone bracing to be scolded?

Li Wu let out a breath and said again: “…I won’t scold her.”

“That’s a relief then — otherwise this sister-in-law of ours wouldn’t dare invite her to the next gathering.” Zhou Sao relaxed.

Li Wu took Shen Zhuxi by the arm and led her out of Zhou Sao’s house.

Shen Zhuxi’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hazy. She walked in a swaying wobble, as though she were treading on cotton, giving anyone who watched the urge to reach out and steady her. Several times Li Wu almost did exactly that, but each time she gave her head a little shake and found her footing again on her own.

“Is this… an earthquake?” She stared down at the ground, muttering to herself: “Why is… the ground moving?”

“You’re drunk. You’re the one who’s swaying.” Li Wu said flatly.

“I’m not drunk… I’m perfectly fine.” Shen Zhuxi laughed foolishly and rubbed the copper coins in her palm, as though she were holding the most magnificent treasure in the world. Li Wu was just considering a pointed remark when she suddenly thrust the coins toward him: “Look! Money I earned myself!”

She broke into a childlike grin, a few laughing creases forming across the bridge of her nose, her eyes curving into guileless crescents full of innocent light.

She was entirely artless, utterly unguarded.

And it left him with absolutely no guard of his own.

Li Wu was silent for a long moment before he said:

“…Yes, I see it.”

“I earned it!” She hugged the copper coins to her chest and said it again, treasuring them.

“Yes.” Li Wu said: “You’re quite something.”

Shen Zhuxi’s face visibly lit up. She bounced forward two steps and planted one foot squarely on the shadow of his head.

“I stepped on your head — am I impressive or not!”

“…Very impressive, very impressive.”

“That’s not even the half of it! I’ll have you know I’ve read all of the Four Books and Five Classics from cover to cover, and I’ve read most popular miscellaneous books as well. I can write in clerical script, in Slender Gold, in the delicate ladies’ regular script. I’m accomplished in the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting — there’s quite a lot I can do…”

Shen Zhuxi tilted her head up, thoroughly pleased with herself.

“Am I impressive or not?”

Drunk, Shen Zhuxi’s words and behavior had regressed to those of a three-year-old. When Li Wu didn’t answer, she chased his shadow and pouted at it, stamping on the shadow of his head.

“Say it — am I impressive or not?!”

“Impressive, impressive… satisfied?” He gave her a perfunctory answer, wanting no more of her chatter.

But then she suddenly stopped walking. Her lips turned downward, and tears swiftly gathered in her eyes.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not—” Li Wu furrowed his brow: “Shen Zhuxi, do you turn unreasonable when you’re drunk?”

“You think I’m useless!”

“I don’t—”

“You do! You do!”

Li Wu had no desire to engage with her, but suddenly the footsteps beside him went silent. He looked back and found that she had stopped in place and was sulking at her own shadow, refusing to move.

He said impatiently: “Are you walking or not? At this pace, you won’t make it home before dark.”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake.

Shen Zhuxi stopped sulking at her shadow. With startling swiftness she sat herself down on the ground and burst into loud, wailing sobs.

“You look down on me, you think I’m useless, you think I’m a burden, you’ve wanted to be rid of me for ages…”

Li Wu felt his head begin to throb. Terrified her crying would draw the neighbors out to watch, he crossed to her in one stride, grabbed her by the arm, and tried to haul her upright.

“Shen Zhuxi! We’re outside — what’s gotten into you?!”

“You’re scolding me! You’re scolding me again! Still scolding me!”

Shen Zhuxi sobbed even harder. This was no dainty weeping — other women might cry with tears sliding prettily down their faces, but Shen Zhuxi was wailing at full volume. She was always startling and unpredictable in the most unlikely places.

The veins in Li Wu’s temples stood out. He clapped a hand over her mouth, gritting his teeth:

“What are you crying about! Shen Zhuxi, how can you just cry at will like this, you make no sense at all, do you want to be the death of me…”

Shen Zhuxi cried all over her face and still managed to kick and strike at him between sobs. Li Wu, vexed past his limit by her carrying on, twisted her arms behind her back — without using much force at all — but Shen Zhuxi went suddenly and completely still.

“…Shen Zhuxi?”

She sat on the ground with her back to him and said nothing.

“You there?”

“You—”

Before Li Wu could finish, he suddenly saw a teardrop, then another, falling through the air. Li Wu yanked his hands back at once, and the sensation was like sitting bare on a hot iron.

He moved around to face her and crouched down. He composed a whole speech inside his head, then discarded all of it, and said with helpless desperation: “…What would it take for you to stop crying?”

She said nothing and wept silently.

Li Wu had been desperate to stop her mouth just moments before, and now that she had truly gone quiet, he himself could not find peace.

He had no choice but to continue on the subject at hand, speaking with clumsy sincerity: “You really are impressive — you can play mahjong, you can read and write, you’ve read all of some Five Books and Four Classics, and you’re even more accomplished than old Zhu from town. He can only write, not play an instrument, and at chess, he can’t even beat me — someone with your abilities, how could I possibly think you were useless? Look at me — I can’t even write a character. You’re far more capable than I am…”

Shen Zhuxi finally lifted her head and looked at him. She pressed her lips together and stared at him steadily, tears rolling one after another from her glistening almond eyes. She said nothing, but that pitiable look was enough to make him feel like the greatest villain in all of history.

“My honored lady, just what do you want from me?” Li Wu had exhausted every means he had and was nearly at the point of kneeling before her. At that moment he only wanted to drag out whoever it was that had talked Shen Zhuxi into drinking and lock them in an outhouse for seven days and seven nights.

If he had known she would be like this when she got drunk, he would never have let her touch a single drop of wine!

“I’m so very capable…” She pressed her lips together, tears shimmering and welling in her reddened eyes: “So why does no one want me?”

She had worked so hard to learn the zither and the stringed instruments she did not enjoy. She had worked so hard to read the women’s texts she did not enjoy. She had worked so hard to become the version of herself that everyone wanted. And in the end, she was still alone, adrift outside the palace.

Her mother had abandoned her for the Emperor. Her father had abandoned her for the Crown Prince. Fu Xuanmiao had abandoned her for the greater good. Everyone had something that mattered more to them than she did.

She could accept it as reality. She could not let it go.

Li Wu was completely at a loss, and asked: “Who doesn’t want you?”

“None of you want me.” She said, and the tears she had been holding back broke free all at once.

Li Wu suddenly understood. She was talking about her parents.

Shen Zhuxi was this heartbroken — it was because she had been thinking of the parents who had sent her into the palace. She believed that because she was useless, her parents had abandoned her.

Self-reflection was Shen Zhuxi’s strength, but too much self-reflection was her weakness. If it had been Li Wu, he would never have traced his parents’ rejection of him back to a flaw within himself.

He had grown up with no memory of parents, had never been taught the principles of benevolence and virtue, and had only survived through the protection of the old duck keeper. The bonds of family affection were something Li Wu had never experienced and could not fully comprehend. He could not feel what Shen Zhuxi felt, but neither could he remain unmoved.

Every time a tear fell from her eyes, it felt as though it landed on his heart.

Li Wu reached out and used his thumb to carefully, earnestly wipe away the tear tracks on her face. His expression was calm — still as a mountain, unruffled as a vast sea — and that steadiness gradually brought a quiet into Shen Zhuxi as well.

He said, slowly and distinctly: “Look at me.”

She did as he said and looked at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Don’t listen to what others say. You are a hundred times, a thousand times better than they are. If they don’t want you, it is their loss. You are better than they believed, and you are better than you yourself believe. Do not doubt yourself simply because they are blind — for to do so is also to doubt my own judgment.” Li Wu said. “Do you understand?”

Shen Zhuxi had not really followed what he was saying — her head was entirely foggy — but the conviction in his manner made her say without thinking:

“I understand…”

“…You foolish thing.” Li Wu turned his back to her and half-crouched before her: “Get on.”

Shen Zhuxi clambered dazedly onto Li Wu’s back. His arms slipped beneath her knees, and he rose to his feet with ease.

As her vantage point shifted, Shen Zhuxi realized just how fast Li Wu’s stride actually was — in just two or three steps, he had already covered a great distance.

His back was broader than it appeared, too. Unlike his easy-going, devil-may-care manner, every step he took was firm and steady, and on his back, Shen Zhuxi felt not the slightest jolt.

“Shen Zhuxi.” He said her name suddenly.

“…Hmm?” Shen Zhuxi answered, muddled.

Li Wu strode forward beneath the orange-red of the setting sun.

Beneath his feet, the shadows of two people merged into one, close and inseparable.

“They didn’t want you. I do.”