It was so late that Yizhou City’s gates had long been closed. Yang Jingyuan planned to stay at the old steward’s house. Hearing the suppressed crying from inside the room, he didn’t leave immediately.
He sat against the wall, the brocade handkerchief spread across his knees. As he stroked the embroidered flowers, his fingertips feeling the raised texture of the stitches, he could almost see Ji Yingying’s swift needlework.
After sitting for an unknown time, the crying inside gradually weakened and finally ceased, replaced by steady breathing.
Had she fallen asleep?
Yang Jingyuan stood up. After hesitating, he gently pushed the window open a crack. Sure enough, Ji Yingying had fallen asleep sitting on the wooden floor, leaning against the low table.
Her jet-black hair draped over her like a light gauze, her small face pale and wan.
He wanted to leave, yet felt reluctant. After staring at her for a long while, the autumn wind brought waves of coldness, coating his clothes with a light frost. Yang Jingyuan pushed open the window and quietly leaped inside.
His heart began to race. He reached out his hand, then pulled it back, afraid of waking her. He tiptoed to the bed, picked up the quilt, and carefully draped it over her. Her feet remained exposed startlingly white against the brown floor and dark green silk quilt. Blood rushed to his head, making his face instantly flush deep red.
As if possessed, his hand covered her foot. His palm felt like it was touching jade, cool and penetrating. He held his breath, not daring to move.
Perhaps finding comfort in the warmth from her foot, Ji Yingying shifted slightly, burying her head in the quilt. Both feet stretched toward Yang Jingyuan’s hand.
Yang Jingyuan crouched before her, hearing her breathing become even and deep again. He tucked her feet into the quilt, then quickly turned and left. After closing the window, he slid down against the wall, breathing heavily. He pressed hard against his chest, his wildly beating heart seeming ready to burst. Leaning his head against the stone wall, he couldn’t help but smile.
In the morning, Ji Yingying heard knocking.
“Miss, are you awake? I’ve brought hot water.”
It was Xiang’er? “Come in!” Ji Yingying mumbled in response, rubbing her face against the quilt.
Xiang’er set down the wooden basin and pushed at the door: “Miss, the door is bolted.”
Oh, I bolted it last night. Ji Yingying remembered, yawning as she opened her eyes. She found herself sleeping on the wooden floor. She sat up, the dark green silk quilt sliding off her. Ji Yingying ran barefoot to open the door.
“Miss, you’ll catch a cold with bare feet. Please sit on the bed, let me help you wash your face,” Xiang’er said, placing the basin on the wooden stand. Turning to see the quilt piled on the floor, she picked it up, “Miss, how did you kick all your bedding onto the floor?”
She received no answer from Ji Yingying, and turned to see her standing dazed at the doorway: “Miss, what’s wrong?”
Ji Yingying came to her senses and sat on the bed: “Nothing.”
Xiang’er wrung out a hot cloth and handed it to her. With the warm cloth covering her face, Ji Yingying was still wondering, had she pulled the quilt over herself last night? Why hadn’t she just collapsed onto the bed to sleep? Perhaps she had been too drowsy at the time?
Xiang’er held her foot to help her put on shoes, chiding, “It’s autumn now, Miss mustn’t walk barefoot on the floor anymore. Cold enters through the feet, it’s easiest to catch a chill.”
Ji Yingying suddenly pulled her foot back. The cloth fell from her face. She stared at Xiang’er, who stood confused holding one shoe, and forced a smile: “It tickled…”
She took the shoe to put it on herself, suddenly noticing the corner of an envelope under the cabinet. Everything from last night flooded back into her mind. What was so urgent that Yang Jingyuan had to deliver a letter at midnight? She remembered the brocade handkerchief and quickly went to open the window. After searching for a while, she couldn’t find it. Yang Jingyuan must have taken it back.
After hearing Yang Jingyuan’s explanation last night, Ji Yingying immediately understood why Zhao Xiuyuan had lit up the entire building.
Zhao Xiuyuan must think she had betrayed him. Such a proud person—to be questioned whether his competition brocade relied on her skills, he would rather give up the Brocade Banner. Yet he had deliberately lit up the entire building.
Not like before, to convey affection.
He was angry, wanting her to see his anger.
If she had stood in the courtyard, she surely would have seen Zhao Xiuyuan glaring at her in fury.
The handkerchief had accidentally fallen into Yang Jingyuan’s hands. He was from the Yang family. She had no way to explain to Zhao Xiuyuan. Any explanation would only confirm to the Yang family that the handkerchief matched the competition brocade’s pattern exactly.
“Miss, what are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
Yang Jingyuan’s letter must be trying to explain this. Ji Yingying bent to pick up the letter, placing it in her dressing-case. She had made up her mind. If anyone from the Yang family used this handkerchief to question Zhao Xiuyuan’s skills, she would say she had seen the Zhao family’s competition brocade and merely attempted to embroider a copy.
After finishing her toilette, she took Ying’er to the main courtyard.
Yang Jingyuan returned home close to noon. Just as he reached the doorstep, Xiangyou jumped up from the steps, urgently saying, “Young Master, where have you been? Hurry inside, the Madam has been waiting all night!”
“I know.” He dismounted, throwing the reins to the doorman, and walked toward the main courtyard with Xiangyou, “Do you know why Mother was looking for me?”
Xiangyou looked around before saying softly, “Yesterday you had that dispute with the Zhao family’s young master, and the Fourth Young Master reported it to the Madam. After the evening banquet when no one knew where you were, the Madam kept asking about your whereabouts. I said you went drinking with Young Master Sang.”
“Clever!” Yang Jingyuan praised Xiangyou, “Go tell Fourteenth Sang not to let anything slip, quick!”
Xiangyou acknowledged and left the mansion.
Upon entering, Yang Jingyuan saw breakfast laid out on the round table. Madam Yang had just sat down. He sniffed, his stomach growling: “Good morning, Mother. It smells wonderful!”
Madam Yang’s face filled with a smiling reproach: “Where have you been gallivanting again? Not returning all night, not even sending word. Quickly sit and join me for breakfast. Tell the kitchen to make another bowl of meat sauce noodle soup.”
Yang Jingyuan didn’t decline, lifting his robe to sit. He had had a few drinks at last night’s Scattered Flowers Banquet, and rushing to the city early this morning, he hadn’t eaten breakfast. He ate with great relish.
“Eating well makes you grow strong.” Madam Yang stopped after having a bowl of millet porridge and two mushroom buns, smiling as she watched Yang Jingyuan finish a large bowl of noodle soup.
After rinsing his mouth and being served freshly steeped Mount Meng tea, Yang Jingyuan finally asked: “I heard from Xiangyou that Mother was anxiously looking for me?”
Madam Yang made a gesture, and all the serving maids and women quietly withdrew. Only then did Yang Jingyuan sense something unusual.
“Mother, Father already admonished me yesterday that I should have held back, shouldn’t have sought trouble with Second Young Master Zhao,” Yang Jingyuan hurried to admit his fault, thinking it was about this, “Second Brother mediated, and nothing really happened. Don’t listen to Fourth Brother’s exaggerations.”
“Mother knows you’re a good child.” Madam Yang spoke lovingly, a trace of melancholy rising in her eyes, “The Yang family held the Brocade Banner for over twenty years, only to lose it to the Zhao family. It’s like a slap to the Yang family’s face. Everyone in the family is upset. Your eldest brother maintained a smile in public, but when he returned home, he knelt in the ancestral hall all night, and no one could persuade him to leave.”
Yang Jingyuan jumped up: “Is Big Brother still kneeling in the ancestral hall? I’ll go convince him to come back.”
“Your father already drove him back to his room. In Yizhou City, brocade-weaving families are as numerous as cattle hair. For the Yang family to maintain victory for over twenty years was already extraordinary. With so many masters emerging, when one’s skill falls short, there’s no reason to monopolize the Brocade Banner.” Madam Yang smiled and had him sit down, speaking gently, “Fourth Brother said you and Second Young Master Zhao had an inexplicable dispute. You hadn’t said anything, yet he jumped up wanting to make a scene. According to your Second Brother, something about yours and his—what exactly happened?”
A minor dispute that hadn’t even come to blows—why would his stepmother inquire so carefully? Yang Jingyuan sensed something unusual, and the handkerchief in his chest felt hot again.