“Brother, please, won’t you help me?”
Miss Ji propped herself up on the couch, her long black hair cascading over her white skirt like a waterfall, looking utterly fragile. She lifted her face, as pale as her plain silk dress, her dark eyes burning like two pieces of hot coal, yet seeming as if that light might turn to ash at any moment.
Ji Yaoting’s heart ached unbearably.
In just three days, Miss Ji had rapidly lost weight. Through her silk dress, one could see her narrow, thin shoulder blades protruding. Ji Yaoting dared not speak, afraid his voice would break into sobs first. He walked hesitantly, slowly to the door, and gripped the lock, pulling it shut with force.
A thud sounded from within the room. Ji Yaoting trembled, closed his eyes, and clasped his hands together to secure the lock.
“Brother!” Miss Ji scrambled to the door, sprawling on the ground as she knocked, crying hoarsely, “Brother, I just want to see him one more time. I just want to ask him. Brother, please let me go?”
She had almost no strength left; her palms hitting the wooden door made only weak, soft sounds.
Ji Yaoting slid down to sit on the doorstep, burying his head in his arms. He turned his face to wipe away flowing tears, then lifted his head, sniffling: “Yingying, you’re too impulsive. Going to the Zhao family now… you’ll only invite humiliation.”
“Please, Brother. I know what’s at stake. I won’t make a scene,” Miss Ji wept pitifully on the ground. She had already told Zhao Xiuyuan before that if he couldn’t marry her, he need only tell her so. She wouldn’t cling to him, truly she wouldn’t.
Tears slowly soaked the reed mat beneath her. The first time she and Zhao Xiuyuan had pledged their love, it had been a rainy day.
The rain had come suddenly, and Zhao Xiuyuan, carrying her collected dye plants, had pulled her running toward Bamboo Grove Temple. As the rain grew heavier, the temple’s red walls were obscured behind a white curtain of rain, and they had no choice but to take shelter under a large tree. He told her to wait, handed her the cloth bundle to cover herself, and using his sleeve to shield his head, dashed into the rain.
She thought he was running back to the temple for an umbrella. Instead, he ran to a nearby banana tree, broke off two leaves, and rushed back. For an entire hour of rain, he stood before she held those two banana leaves, creating a small patch of sky just for her. Rain dripped down his sideburns, making him look like a drenched puppy.
Miss Ji remembered how her face had brushed against his chest. Through his rain-soaked clothes, she could feel his heart pounding steadily.
“I just want to ask him,” Miss Ji closed her eyes. “I’m not thinking of going to the Zhao family. What would I do there? How could I shamelessly go to the Zhao family and demand to know why he won’t marry me? The day after tomorrow is the ninth of the tenth month – I want to go to Yi Prefecture. I just need to hear it from his lips. Whether he’s being forced or willing, I don’t care. Brother, I won’t cause trouble, I won’t get angry, I won’t curse at him. I just need to hear him tell me.”
She just wanted to ask Zhao Xiuyuan. To ask why he would treat her this way. Why did he have to hide it from her? Was it to obtain her color combinations? No, Zhao Xiuyuan wasn’t that kind of person. She had given him the new color combinations voluntarily. It couldn’t be for the colors. Then why? On the Mid-Autumn Festival, he could have told her he couldn’t marry her.
His face, his smile, and his eyes full of affection all flickered before her. His voice echoed in her ears. Everything rushed in chaotically, cramming into her head until it felt ready to burst.
“Yingying, why must you hear it from him before you’ll give up?” Ji Yaoting gazed painfully at the fallen leaves in the courtyard, his voice utterly exhausted. “You’re so clever, can’t you guess? They got your color combinations and wove fine brocade. The Zhao family still worried the Yang family might have a good brocade too. Marrying into the Commander’s family gives them another arm of support. The Zhao family is determined to win the title of Brocade King.”
A burst of anguished crying erupted from the room. Miss Ji wept until she could hardly breathe.
Yes, she understood it all. But her heart ached so much she couldn’t bear it. Seeing Zhao Xiuyuan one last time had become her obsession as if only his words could be the blade to cleanly sever all their ties of love.
“I’m hungry, Brother. Let me sleep, then bring me some porridge.” Miss Ji lay by the door, her voice as weak as a cat’s mew.
That day after returning home, fearing Miss Ji might rush to the Zhao family in a rage, Madam Ji had confined her to the house. Miss Ji had no appetite; in three days she had barely eaten anything besides drinking some water and was visibly wasting away.
The Zhao family had kept Second Young Master Zhao’s engagement strictly secret; the news of the alliance with Deputy Commander Niu’s family hadn’t spread. Ji Yaoting had called in various favors and learned that shortly after the Double Ninth Festival, Madam Zhao had visited Xinxiang Temple in the northern city. By coincidence, Madam Niu had also been at Xinxiang Temple that day. (Built during the Sui Dynasty’s Daye period by Prince Yang Xiu of Shu. Legend says that during the Qing Dynasty, someone saw red light appearing at night. When officials investigated, they found a statue of Manjusri Bodhisattva in the red light. Rebuilt during the Kangxi period of the Qing Dynasty, it became today’s Chengdu Wenshu Monastery.)
Miss Niu Seven had said her sister would marry Second Young Master Zhao at year’s end. Madam Zhao had also met with Madam Niu. Madam Ji was convinced the two families were keeping the engagement secret because of this year’s brocade competition. The marriage alliance between the Zhao and Niu families couldn’t be baseless rumors.
Yellow leaves from the Chinese Parasol tree in the outer courtyard carpeted the ground. Ji Yaoting sat on the doorstep, murmuring, “Yingying, just pretend you were never close to Second Young Master Zhao. What good would seeing him do? Whether he’s willing or being forced, he can’t be with you anymore. That day when we met Miss Niu Seven, you nearly lost composure in public. When you go to Yi Prefecture, you’ll be watching the brocade competition from below while Zhao Xiuyuan sits above. How could you possibly speak to each other? If you draw the attention of both the Zhao and Niu families, how could you ever have a place in Yi Prefecture again?”
There was no sound from behind the door. Ji Yaoting grew anxious, stood up, and unlocked it, only to find Miss Ji collapsed on the ground. He lifted her onto the couch and called to the two maids waiting outside: “Go make a bowl of plain porridge.”
Ling’er ran to the kitchen. Xiang’er wiped her tears and asked, “Young Master, should we call for a physician?”
“She’s just hungry. Once she has some porridge and rests, she’ll be fine. Take good care of her.” Ji Yaoting went to sit in the outer hall.
They couldn’t call for a physician. Three Sluices was only so big – unless Miss Ji truly fell ill, he absolutely wouldn’t let this matter spread. Why should Zhao Xiuyuan joyfully prepare for his engagement while Miss Ji became the laughingstock of others?
Old Nurse Li peeked in at the door. Ji Yaoting glanced toward the inner room, then walked out.
The two stood under the Chinese Parasol tree in the courtyard, speaking in low voices.
“Young Master, the Madam hasn’t slept well for days from worry. Please watch over the Young Miss these next few days. Once the brocade competition is over and the Zhao and Niu families announce their happy news, the Young Miss will come to terms with it.”
“I understand.” Ji Yaoting agreed verbally while inwardly smiling bitterly. It wasn’t that his sister couldn’t understand – even after the brocade competition, she still wanted to see Zhao Xiuyuan once. He thought for a moment and said, “Old Nurse Ji is personally guarding the outer courtyard. Yingying is too weak now to run away from home anyway. I’ll go see Mother.”
Not letting Miss Ji see Zhao Xiuyuan for a clear explanation meant she would never get past this hurdle. But Madam Ji was unusually adamant now about not letting them meet again.
“Xiang’er, where’s my brother?” Miss Ji slowly opened her eyes.
“Young Miss, Old Nurse Li came by, and the Young Master went out.”
Miss Ji gazed at the ceiling. Sunlight filtered through the glazed tiles, casting a pillar of light where tiny dust motes floated. She felt as if she had been sleeping for an eternity as if all those youthful days had turned to dust in the light. A sorrowful smile gradually bloomed at the corners of her lips. “The brocade competition. It’s all for the brocade competition. The day after tomorrow, I must go to Yi Prefecture. Xiang’er, will you help me?”