Since Duan Xu could remember, his mother had been that thin figure in the Buddha hall, spending her days with sutras, wooden fish, and incense ash. He heard that although his mother believed in Buddhism before, she was not nearly as obsessed and devout. Somehow, starting from when he was three years old, she threw herself wholeheartedly into Buddhist teachings. Later, he learned about his mother’s former fiancé and realized those years coincided with when his father reopened the old case to clear the name of his mother’s once-betrothed.

She lived in this world with a husband and children, yet she was another man’s surviving widow. Was her devotion truly for praying for the family’s well-being, or her unjustly deceased lover?

When he learned about this, he suddenly understood. Before, he thought his mother had a cold nature, perhaps incapable of love. But she was capable—she had a passionate, deep love, just not for him. That youthful romance seemed to have consumed all her energy, leaving nothing for anyone else. Everything she did in this world was proper and according to customs, merely to prevent others from disturbing her continued remembrance of that person.

She said she felt guilty toward him, and he believed her guilt was genuine, yet he also didn’t believe it was truly guilt. Her guilt was about avoiding him, staying away from him, and facing Buddha to pray for him while leaving him behind.

This guilt was the kind that had no intention of changing, a guilt that would continue to let him down.

His father and mother—one too harsh with him, one too polite; one who thought little of love, one who made love her entire life. He felt this wasn’t normal, yet he didn’t know what normal love should be like. As a result, now that he had fallen in love with someone, he couldn’t gain any comfort or help from them.

Chen Ying pondered beside him with a worried expression for a long time before saying softly, “If only Miss Xiao were here.”

“Why?” Duan Xu smiled.

Chen Ying said seriously, “She would certainly comfort you well, and you wouldn’t feel so sad.”

Duan Xu lowered his gaze, still smiling, and said softly, “It’s fine, I’m not that sad.”

But he also wished she could come here.

Just like when he was young and stubbornly hoped his mother would walk out of the Buddha hall on her own.

A few days later, Duan Xu escorted his mother and Duan Jing Yuan out of the city to Jin’an Temple. Duan Jing Yuan was good at acting coquettish and managed to squeeze into the same sedan chair as their mother. Duan Xu, riding his horse beside the sedan chair, saw the curtain being lifted, and Duan Jing Yuan leaning on the window with a charming smile, saying, “Third Brother, I think the girls Father picked for you aren’t very pretty and don’t match my brilliantly talented brother. Today at the temple, shall I pray for a good marriage match for you? What kind of girl do you like?”

Although Duan Jing Yuan teased that her Third Brother had grown up awkwardly, in her heart, she believed her Third Brother was the most handsome man in all of South City, perhaps in the entire world, and he was both scholarly and martial. A young man on a white horse with golden saddle—walking down the street, he caught the secret glances of countless young ladies.

This time, her Third Brother had returned from the border with added steadiness, and his reputation among her unmarried friends had already surpassed the previously much-admired Fang Xian Ye, becoming the top candidate for a future husband.

Her brother looked at her, the swallow-tailed cyan ribbon in his hair fluttering in the wind. She somehow felt her Third Brother’s expression contained a hint of melancholy. But soon Duan Xu smiled as usual, bent down, and beckoned to her. Duan Jing Yuan leaned her ear closer and heard her brother say, “I like a girl who doesn’t exist in this world.”

“…”

Duan Jing Yuan said, “I understand. Later I’ll pray to Buddha to let the Moon Goddess Chang’e descend to earth to find you.”

Duan Xu burst into laughter and said, “Very well, very well. Buddha is compassionate; perhaps he’ll hear it!”

He escorted his mother and Duan Jing Yuan to the front of Jin’an Temple and helped his mother out of the sedan chair. Jing Yuan jumped out of the chair and repeatedly asked if he wasn’t going in. He confirmed, as he had each time before, that he wasn’t. Then he watched as the servants and Duan Jing Yuan supported his mother, walking up the steps toward the majestic golden hall.

Devotees passed by him, and Duan Xu stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the magnificent, solemn Buddhist hall in the morning sunlight. From afar came the sound of bells; the sunlight reflected dazzlingly on the incense burner, and smoke rose in waves.

It seemed as if the wishes of all who came here would turn into wisps of white smoke in this incense burner within the great hall, rising endlessly to the distant sky, reaching before the merciful deity with lowered eyes, to be heard and blessed.

Since childhood, he had never liked these temples, perhaps because he felt that if Buddha were truly merciful, he would return his mother to him. But people’s wishes in this world inherently conflict with each other—fulfilling one means harming another. Even deities must be troubled, so they chose to fulfill his mother’s wish while giving him a nature that didn’t believe in gods or Buddha.

Buddha is compassionate.

When Duan Jing Yuan said these words to him, for an instant, he wondered if Buddha would truly guide the lost.

Then he realized that in this long struggle, he had almost surrendered, nearly prostrating himself before the deities he once rejected. Only because this love without beginning or end had been suspended too long, unwilling to write its conclusion, unable to articulate further, to complete the chapter.

He didn’t know who would understand; perhaps the deities would.

Duan Xu stood there pondering for quite a while, and with his limited knowledge of Buddha, he murmured, “I’ve never heard that Buddha or monks have wives, so they probably don’t understand either.”

Having said this, he smiled, turned to mount his horse, and rode away.

Today had been overcast with dense clouds as if rain was coming. After brewing for a long time, it finally poured down at noon, with fine rain threads seemingly connecting heaven and earth. In such heavy rain, even with an umbrella one would get wet. Duan Jing Yuan, clutching a handful of gardenia flowers, hurriedly took shelter with her maid under the eaves of a side hall in the temple.

Her maid helped brush the water droplets off her while saying, “It’s truly summer now, with frequent rain these days. Miss, if you catch a cold from getting wet just to pick flowers, it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Duan Jing Yuan glared and said, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, can’t you say something nicer?”

Just as she finished speaking, a blue-clad figure entered her vision—a slender, refined young man with a servant, also coming under the eaves to escape the rain.

Duan Jing Yuan examined this man. He was dressed elegantly, with a white jade hairpin and gold-edged hair ribbon. His dark blue robe was embroidered with deer patterns, clearly from an official’s family. His features were deep-set and delicate, somewhat resembling her Third Brother. However, they gave completely different impressions—one dynamic, one static. This man possessed an entirely quiet and steady quality, like mist in distant mountains.

She felt some goodwill toward him and took the initiative to ask straightforwardly, “May I ask which family’s young master you are?”

The man turned to look at her. He seemed to recognize her and bowed, saying, “Greetings, Miss Duan. I am of humble origin, not a young master of any family. My surname is Fang, given name Ji, courtesy name Xian Ye.”

Duan Jing Yuan’s eyelid twitched as she exclaimed, “Fang Xian Ye?”

Was this the Fang Xian Ye who always opposed her father and Third Brother?

Previously, ladies had often mentioned him to her, or secretly pointed him out, but because this person had caused her Third Brother so much suffering, she felt uncomfortable and didn’t want to give him any attention, which was why she hadn’t recognized him immediately today.

Duan Jing Yuan’s earlier slight goodwill immediately vanished.

As if sensing Duan Jing Yuan’s change in mood, Fang Xian Ye straightened up and gave her an inquiring look. Duan Jing Yuan responded perfunctorily, “So it’s Official Fang. I’ve heard you’re the foremost talent in South City, with half of today’s brilliant writings coming from your brush. I’ve long admired you.”

Fang Xian Ye smiled and shook his head modestly, “Miss Duan overpraises me. Even if my writings shock the world, they’re merely ink on paper.”

Duan Jing Yuan was stunned for a moment.

In a distant memory from years ago, during a summer when she returned to her ancestral home in Dai Prefecture to visit her grandmother, she had said her Third Brother’s writings were the best in the world. Her brother, bathed in sunlight, his appearance now indistinct in her memory, took the writing from her hand. With the scent of blue orchids about him, he smiled and said softly, “Even if writings shock the world, they’re merely ink on paper.”

She became angry and blurted out, “Why are you copying my Third Brother’s words?”

The refined, steady young man was taken aback by her unexplained accusation. Then, slowly understanding her meaning, he gave a light laugh and said softly, “What a good memory.”

“What did you say?” Duan Jing Yuan didn’t hear clearly.

“Nothing. General Duan comes from a noble family; I certainly can’t compare.”

Fang Xian Ye appeared thoroughly humble, making Duan Jing Yuan feel she had been somewhat excessive earlier. She thought to herself that this Official Fang was truly hypocritical, then turned away from him. Looking at the heavy rain beyond the eaves, she irritably wondered why it wasn’t letting up, forcing her to stay with this fellow.

The man beside her seemed to laugh softly, and then she heard him call his servant, “He Zhi, let’s go.”

The fourteen or fifteen-year-old servant exclaimed in surprise, “Master, in such heavy rain, you’d get wet even with an umbrella, let alone without one.”

“You know that, yet you forgot to bring an umbrella on such a gloomy day,” Fang Xian Ye reprimanded him mildly and was about to walk into the rain.

Duan Jing Yuan thought he must have sensed her aversion and was leaving on his own. Although being under the same eaves with him made her quite uncomfortable, letting him walk in such heavy rain would be too unreasonable.

She immediately grabbed him, saying, “Official Fang, you don’t need to…”

Fang Xian Ye paused, his gaze falling on her hand that gripped his sleeve. Duan Jing Yuan’s gaze followed. She realized this was indeed presumptuous and was about to withdraw her hand when she noticed a long, fine scar on the back of his hand, extending into his sleeve where it couldn’t be seen.

For a moment, she forgot about her presumption and asked in surprise, “How did you get such a deep scar on your hand?”

Fang Xian Ye was silent for a moment, then said casually, “On my way to the capital for the imperial examinations, I encountered bandits and nearly lost my life. Fortunately, Duke Pei rescued me and took me in. This scar is from that time. It damaged the tendons, so this hand lacked strength. Fortunately, it’s my left hand and not needed for writing.”

“I see… In recent years, the area around South City hasn’t been safe. My Third Brother also encountered bandits…” Duan Jing Yuan said, thinking to herself that his work for Duke Pei was out of gratitude, which was understandable. It was ultimately Duke Pei who was dishonorable.

Fang Xian Ye pointed at his sleeve, “Does Miss Duan intend to keep holding me like this?”

Duan Jing Yuan came to her senses and hastily released his sleeve. She cleared her throat and looked Fang Xian Ye up and down, saying somewhat hesitantly, “I heard you have a grudge against my family… is that true?”

Could there be some misunderstanding?

Fang Xian Ye seemed very surprised. His eyes widened, then quickly returned to normal. He smiled faintly and said, “I’m just a commoner. Before passing the examinations, I had never even met General Duan. How could there be a grudge?”

Duan Jing Yuan thought for a moment and felt this was indeed the case. This person could hardly have had any interaction with her family; otherwise, in South City where news traveled so quickly, she would have heard something long ago.

So she said, “Do you have urgent business to attend to?”

“No.”

“Then continue sheltering from the rain under these eaves.”

“I…”

“If you leave, it means you dislike me and don’t want to stay with me.”

Fang Xian Ye remained silent for a while, then, receiving an approving look from his servant He Zhi, did not venture out into the rain. The rain fell heavily, and Duan Jing Yuan looked up at the water droplets falling from the eaves, thinking that this Fang Xian Ye didn’t seem as detestable as she had imagined.