Chen Wan Quan had drunk too much at noon and lay dozing on the kang bed, soon snoring thunderously. Madam Xue sent a child playing at the door to the antique shop to deliver a message, taking a half-day leave for Chen Wan Quan. Xiang Lan helped Madam Xue with household chores inside and out, listening to her chatter about neighborhood affairs.

After staying busy for a while, Xiang Lan, thinking of visiting Master Ding Yi, took some money and bought two packages of pastries and fruits from a shop on the street. When she arrived at Jing Yue Temple, she learned that Master Ding Yi was in seclusion. Greatly disappointed, she could only leave the fruits and pastries along with a letter for Master Ding Yi, and left dejectedly.

As she rounded the temple wall, she heard someone say: “Yi Fei, why aren’t you using the fan from yesterday? The poem on it was so well written, much more interesting than this landscape fan.”

She heard Song Ke reply: “That poem was written carelessly, what’s good about it?”

Xiang Lan peered around and saw two young gentlemen with their backs to her – one was Song Ke, and the other was Lin Jin Ting. Lin Jin Ting smiled and said: “How is it not good? ‘Bright moon and old friend far away, lone orchid’s fragrance lingers still, night flute heard from small tower, silence deep at the third watch.’ Though simple lines, they carry a melancholic atmosphere. It would be best set to music and sung by someone who knows string and bamboo instruments.”

Song Ke laughed: “What nonsense are you talking about? It was just written in jest. If such feminine verses got out, Scholar Liu would again say I’m neglecting my studies and indulging in pleasure.”

Lin Jin Ting snorted: “You, indulging in pleasure? You probably can recite all the eight-legged essay annotations backward by now. If I hadn’t dragged you out shopping, who knows how long you’d keep studying.”

Xiang Lan didn’t hear what else the two said, for her ears were filled with “Bright moon and old friend far away, lone orchid’s fragrance lingers still, night flute heard from small tower, silence deep at the third watch.” She stood dazed for a long while. In her previous life, when she was exiled, she spent nights in a dilapidated house by the river, its walls letting in drafts, damp and cold. As darkness fell, with no candles in the room, only a half-moon hanging in the sky, she would lean by the window gazing at the scattered fishing lights on the river, hearing distant flute music. By then, Xiao Hang had fallen ill, half-leaning against the bedhead, coughing.

The scene was truly too desolate and forlorn. She brought Xiao Hang half a bowl of cold water, helping him drink slowly, and trying to lighten the mood, smiled and said: “If this house weren’t so broken down, living here would have some charm. Let me give you a couplet to match – you’re a talented scholar, don’t laugh at my crudeness.”

Xiao Hang took a breath, his pale lips curving slightly in a faint smile, saying: “Give it to me and I’ll try to match it.”

She recited: “Bright moon distant, small tower hears flute as if in a dream.”

Xiao Hang thought for a moment and said: “Old friend parts, all sounds silent at third watch.”

She smiled and said: “Matched perfectly. Our couplet could make a poem, with two lines being ‘night flute heard from small tower, silence deep at the third watch.'”

Xiao Hang smiled too, his gaunt face hidden in the moon’s shadows.

She suddenly reached out and slowly grasped Xiao Hang’s hand. He started slightly, then slowly gripped hers back.

In such a bleak setting, her heart somehow felt warm.

She knew that before marrying her, Xiao Hang had loved another woman, his maternal cousin, but couldn’t marry her because of her low status. After marriage, she had seen that woman – truly incomparably elegant, learned in poetry and literature, excellent in both appearance and character. Xiao Hang secretly kept a smooth white jade safety pendant that a woman had given him, always wearing it around his neck. Thus she knew Xiao Hang had likely married her mainly for her grandfather’s position as Prime Minister. Though they got along harmoniously as a couple, she still felt unsettled.

But from their exile onwards, through all the hardships, true conjugal affection had been forged between them.

She had playfully carved those lines “night flute heard from small tower, silence deep at third watch” on that broken house’s wall.

Now hearing Song Ke recite these lines, Xiang Lan felt as if struck by lightning, her heart pounding wildly. She hurried forward several steps, almost bumping into Lin Jin Ting.

Lin Jin Ting immediately became displeased, turning to glare at Xiang Lan, scolding: “Hey you, don’t you have eyes?”

Xiang Lan remained dazed, her eyes fixed only on Song Ke, completely unaware of what Lin Jin Ting had said.

Lin Jin Ting glared at Xiang Lan: “Hey, hey, you bump into young master and don’t even say anything?” Song Ke turned and saw Xiang Lan standing behind him, about to speak, but seeing what seemed like tears in her bright, lustrous eyes, the words caught in his throat and he could say no more.

Lin Jin Ting muttered: “Staring with wide eyes, must be a foolish maid.” He pulled Song Ke’s arm, “Let’s go, this person’s already gone stupid.”

Song Ke looked into Xiang Lan’s eyes and suddenly felt his heart flutter – those eyes seemed to penetrate straight to his core, seeing through his heart and lungs with crystal clarity, containing deep emotion and a hint of melancholy that he couldn’t pull away from. He knew this wasn’t the right moment to speak, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move.

At this moment, Lin Jin Ting’s servant Lu’er came running over: “The private room at Shun Fu Tower is ready, with a table full of fine tea snacks and premium West Lake Dragon Well tea. Young masters, please come over.”

Lin Jin Ting was already hungry and thirsty from walking around, and said happily upon hearing this: “Perfect timing, let’s go quickly.”

Song Ke looked around and saw a nearby shop selling brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. He said to Lin Jin Ting: “You go first, I’ll buy some writing supplies, and then come over.”

Lin Jin Ting scoffed: “In such a commonplace, how could there be any good scholar’s supplies? Another day I’ll give you a Fang Duan inkstone.”

Song Ke smiled: “You don’t understand, I’m buying for the rustic charm.”

Lin Jin Ting was very thirsty, and hearing Song Ke say this, waved his hand: “Fine then, go buy. This young master needs to go drink some hot tea first.” He left with Lu’er.

After Lin Jin Ting had gone far, Song Ke turned back to look at Xiang Lan. He saw her complexion like jade, her delicate features as if painted, wearing a somewhat bewildered expression. Song Ke felt he could never look enough, his heart beating several times faster. He lowered his head, coughed once, and said: “Meeting you again. Why aren’t you serving in the manor, what are you doing out here?”

The words “serving in the manor” felt like a bucket of cold water poured over her head. Xiang Lan lowered her head and said: “Mistress gave me leave today, I came home to see my parents.”

Song Ke didn’t know why she suddenly looked so sad and asked: “Did something happen at home?”

Xiang Lan shook her head, and when she raised her head again, the sadness had vanished from her face, replaced by a smile. She said: “What a coincidence meeting Master Song here.” She wanted to ask about those two lines of poetry but couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Seeing her smile, Song Ke unconsciously smiled too and said: “Xiu Hong dragged me out for a walk.”

Then there was nothing more to say. Song Ke was somewhat annoyed with himself. In his two lives, his only wish had been to achieve success in the imperial examinations and become an official, to accomplish something significant and make up for the regret of dying young in his previous life. He thought he had come to view all things with detachment, yet facing this little maid, his heart felt like it held a dozen small rabbits, jumping endlessly.

After a while, Song Ke finally found something to say: “I want to browse the calligraphy shop, come with me.”

Unexpectedly, Xiang Lan spoke at the same time: “The poem on your fan…”

Song Ke said: “What?”

Xiang Lan paused, then shook her head and said: “Nothing.” She took a breath, smiled, and said: “You mentioned going to the shop just now, let’s go look around.” She walked into the shop first.

The shopkeeper was dozing in his chair, but seeing a young gentleman enter, hurriedly went to welcome him. Seeing the visitor’s fine dress, he became even more cheerful and attentive.

Song Ke didn’t know what he wanted to buy, looked at the snow-wave paper, then at various colors of paint, remembering his sister Tan Chai saying she had been writing poetry and painting with Lin Dong Qi these days and needed some paint supplies. So he had the shopkeeper select the best quality: one medium brush, one small brush, two taels of cinnabar, two taels of mineral yellow, two taels of Canton flowers, and two pieces of rouge.

While paying, Song Ke secretly glanced at Xiang Lan several times, seeing her head lowered, lost in thought. This girl, when she had bumped into him earlier, had looked at him with tears of mixed joy and sorrow, then showed a dazed expression, followed by deep sadness, and now he couldn’t discern her thoughts at all.

Leaving the shop, he cleared his throat and said: “After Cao Li Huan left the manor, I wanted to request you to serve me, but then learned you were serving Mistress Lan. If you’re not happily serving Mistress Lan, I can mention it to Madam in a few days, have you served my sister instead? She has a gentle nature and is most kind to others.”

Xiang Lan felt a bittersweet sensation, yet couldn’t suppress a trace of joy, and asked: “Really?”

Song Ke smiled slightly and said: “Of course, if you have any troubles in the future, just come find me.”

Seeing his sincere gaze, Xiang Lan couldn’t help but smile, saying: “I’ll surely trouble Master Song in the future.”

Song Ke felt her smile was like spring ice beginning to melt, making his heart flutter even more intensely. His hand behind his back gripped the fan tightly, but his face remained composed as he nodded firmly and said: “What trouble? Just come whenever.” He paused, then said with a grin: “But you still haven’t made me that stationery case you promised.”

Xiang Lan blushed slightly and said: “I’ve been too busy lately, I’ll make it for you when I have some free time in a few days.”

Her slightly lowered eyelashes were thick and long, and her whole person standing in the light looked like she was made of jade. Song Ke was reluctant to leave, but seeing his servant Ting Quan peering around nearby, he had to say: “I must go now. I’m currently staying in the courtyard north of Lin Manor.”

Xiang Lan nodded, gave a curtsey, and said with a smile: “Take care, Master Song.”

After walking a few steps, Song Ke suddenly turned back, thrust the fan in his hand into Xiang Lan’s, and said: “You mentioned the fan earlier, this one’s for you.” Then he turned and left.

She watched Song Ke’s retreating figure, her heart suddenly feeling empty. She opened the folding fan in her hand – the exquisitely painted fan showed clear waters rippled by a gentle wind, with distant blue mountains faintly visible, and a small crystal pendant hanging from its base. Xiang Lan silently folded the fan closed. Originally, she had wanted to ask about those two lines of poetry, to ask Song Ke if he was that person… but her heart suddenly grew cold. What use was there in asking? She was no longer the noble young lady of before, just a maid – could she hope he would renew their past relationship? Their current social positions formed an insurmountable barrier – would she be content to become his concubine?

But his tender feelings toward her, his care and consideration, made her heart involuntarily rejoice, like a dormant seed in her heartbreaking through the soil, sprouting a tender green shoot.

She knew she shouldn’t covet this, yet she couldn’t help herself.