No one knew better than Ye Lingbo how difficult this person could be. She mocked Shen Yunze for being spoiled, but Shen Biwei was no different. She had been jealous even at the sight of A’Cuo back then. Now she saw Lingbo keeping company with someone else — would she have a kind word to say? Never mind that she appeared cold and indifferent to everything on the surface — when you truly counted it up, there was no young lady in the capital more proud and possessive than she was.

Lingbo smiled and stepped forward, taking her hand.

“Enough.” She knew Shen Biwei responded to gentleness, not force, so she smiled and coaxed her: “He’s a friend of mine who has helped me. Don’t be foolish. Come, let me show you something interesting…”

It happened to be Huo Yingzhen’s father’s calligraphy — proof, one might say, that Shen Biwei and Huo Yingzhen had some predestined connection. She drew Shen Biwei over to look at the characters on the stone, sincere in her manner of offering this gift. Shen Biwei did not know what it was yet, but she was satisfied with the gesture. Pei Zhao, however, stepped back and placed himself between the two of them.

Lingbo had not anticipated this side of him, and immediately shot him a glare.

“What are you doing?” she asked, at a loss.

Pei Zhao glanced at Lingbo’s hand holding Shen Biwei’s. Shen Biwei was tall — for a young woman — but she was still half a head shorter than Pei Zhao. He made a point of this slight advantage, looking over the top of Shen Biwei’s head down the mountainside, and smiled.

“The wind is strong up here. I’m going down.”

“Then go,” Lingbo said, not understanding why he was reporting this to her. He was always vanishing and reappearing of his own accord — sometimes she could not even keep him around if she tried. Why was he suddenly giving her notice?

Pei Zhao’s expression immediately cooled.

It was the first time Lingbo had ever seen him truly wear a cold expression. She found it rather funny. Yet as he was so remarkably fine-featured, a coldness that was not apparent while he smiled made itself fully felt when it came — it had a genuine kind of authority to it, even more unnerving than Shen Biwei.

She had said all along that this fellow ought to strive for advancement. If he were made a marquis, that bearing would certainly command a room.

Shen Biwei was equally childish — she immediately pulled Ye Lingbo toward herself, trying to drag her away from Pei Zhao. But she could not move Lingbo, because Pei Zhao caught the back of Lingbo’s collar and tugged her back.

Even Lingbo, who had a fairly patient temperament, was irritated. She had always been rather bold in how she spoke to Pei Zhao at that.

“What’s gotten into you?” she said to him with contempt. She had said far more cutting things to him on other occasions, but this time Pei Zhao’s gaze went dark all at once. Surrounded by the mountain’s verdant green on all sides, he was sharp as a blade.

He seemed truly angry. He said nothing, turned, and walked away. Shen Biwei actually seemed unbothered; she simply folded her arms and looked on at Ye Lingbo with a satisfied air, giving a single contemptuous sniff.

“What are you sniffing at? I’m the one who should be sniffing!” Ye Lingbo smacked Shen Biwei’s hand in exasperation, and Shen Biwei actually laughed — looking entirely too pleased with herself.

Lingbo had no idea what she found so satisfying. These two ridiculous people — incapable of striving for anything meaningful, yet brilliant at bickering over trifles. At any rate, this side was now settled; she had no choice but to shoot Shen Biwei a stern warning: “I’ll settle accounts with you when we get back.” Then she turned to go after Pei Zhao.

That fellow walked fast, and Lingbo could simply not keep up. She called out “Pei Zhao” twice, and seeing he paid no attention, she snatched up a stone from the roadside and flung it at him. It missed, but it did make him stop — still just as proud, back turned, standing there without looking around.

Lingbo had no choice but to quicken her pace and catch up to him. Seeing his expression, it was clear he was not going to let this go easily — arms folded, looking back at her with cold eyes. She felt herself laugh despite being exasperated.

“What are you angry about? I’m the one who should be angry.” She gave Pei Zhao a light shove, and seeing he still wore that insufferable look, she felt a fresh wave of irritation. “Say something. Otherwise I’m done talking to you.”

Pei Zhao only raised his chin with haughty pride — he truly did look remarkably like a beautiful white peacock in that moment.

“I have nothing worth showing anyone. What is there to say?”

Lingbo burst out laughing at his childishness.

“How old are you, Pei Zhao? Even Yanyan is more mature than you. That stone is not yours — what’s wrong with letting someone else look at it? And you’re upset about this?”

Pei Zhao’s response was to immediately turn and walk away again.

Lingbo had to grab him.

“All right.” She was not actually someone who knew how to coax people — this was already an exception today. “You’re resentful because I was close with Shen Biwei and neglected you, aren’t you? But think about it — how long have I known you? I’ve known her since childhood. And don’t let her carefree manner fool you — her temper is actually quite small. I’ve finished coaxing you and now I still have to go coax her…”

Which showed she truly had no gift for sweet-talking — the more she said, the colder Pei Zhao’s expression became.

“Then go ahead and do that. Don’t waste your time here.”

Seeing he was utterly impervious, Lingbo felt like giving him a good kick.

“What is the matter with you? Shen Biwei and I have been close for more than ten years. She doesn’t even know you’re someone who has helped me. For me to run around with you like this — who knows what she’ll say about me when she goes back.”

“Oh, so I’m just someone who helps you out…” Pei Zhao said with a sardonic note.

Lingbo found him completely baffling.

“What else would you be?” She was sharp-tongued when provoked: “Don’t tell me we’re intimately connected families?”

Pei Zhao immediately turned and walked away.

Fine-looking people did tend to have larger tempers.

“Wait.” Lingbo called after him, and when he turned back, she asked: “You said you didn’t want anything from me, only that I should accompany you somewhere. Now that we’ve been, that counts as done, doesn’t it?”

Pei Zhao was so infuriated his face went pale. He left without looking back, and gave the bamboo stalks along the path two sharp kicks.

Lingbo knew herself that this question of hers had been quite merciless. Perhaps there truly was something strange about this mountaintop, turning everyone who came here childish. Not only had Shen Biwei and Pei Zhao squabbled like children, but even she had become foolish about it, as though she were deliberately needling Pei Zhao.

No wonder, four years ago, Cui Jingyu had been fond of teasing Qinglan. Sometimes people who were extraordinarily beautiful were like an irresistible plaything — watching emotion surface on their faces when you provoked them, you really did get the illusion that you possessed this toy.

Lingbo thought herself entirely without fault. Besides, Pei Zhao spent every day teasing her as it was — if she teased him back, it was only fair.

The reason Lingbo dared to slip away from the Cherry Blossom Banquet and wander off was that Han Yueqi had come to attend.

She was now at the height of her standing. Though something had happened at the Spring-Welcome Banquet, she had not only come through it without disgrace but had actually turned the situation to her favor. Her household had been brought firmly to heel under her management. Madam Shen was in poor health, and also as a gesture of elevating Han Yueqi’s standing, she let her take her place at all significant social occasions. Just as at this Cherry Blossom Banquet — the Sun Family had sealed off the temple for the event. The Grand Princess would not be attending, and the first incense offering was made by Female Official Su on the Grand Princess’s behalf. The second incense was designated for Madam Shen, and naturally that fell to Han Yueqi.

All the ladies present looked at her with admiring eyes.

Twenty-four years old, presiding over so great a household — calling her the true mistress of the family was no exaggeration. Her husband was an academician of the highest rank, she had a daughter, her maternal family was thoroughly reliable, and everything in her life seemed perfectly arranged. The Yanlu affair had created some trouble, but every household had its concubines and attendants — the fact that she could now stand here in such fine form made her foremost among the capital’s young matrons.

Yet Han Yueqi herself felt a certain quiet restlessness in her heart.

She was not afraid of Qinglan worrying — their friendship left nothing to hide. It was only that Qinglan now had her own affairs to attend to. If Han Yueqi could be called the leading figure among the young matrons, then Cui Jingyu was now very much the figure that the male guests looked to. When the Grand Princess was present, he reported to her; when she was not, he came in and asked Female Official Su: “The banquet outside has started. May I ask when the lady guests will be descending the mountain?”

The seating of men and women was necessarily separated at banquets in a temple — men outside, women within — and when the women departed, it was proper for the men to make way. Hence his inquiry.

Female Official Su naturally left the matter to the hosting family to arrange. Han Yueqi stood nearby and watched Cui Jingyu keep his gaze lowered throughout the exchange — never once looking at the crowd behind Female Official Su, and naturally not looking at Qinglan at her side. Han Yueqi lowered her own gaze, caught sight of Qinglan’s hand clenched tight, and inwardly sighed.

What a shame. Young people always believed they had limitless time to squander. In this fine spring scene, with cherry blossoms covering every slope like a brocade screen, they wasted it all like this…

“I hear Yong’an Temple’s Bodhisattva is said to be wonderfully efficacious. And yet only we ladies have been offering our prayers.” Han Yueqi opened her mouth with a smile. “After Marquis Cui’s long day of efforts on everyone’s behalf, he should go draw a divination slip as well — otherwise, we would all feel quite at ease about that.”

Matron Wang, her ever-reliable second-in-command, immediately added: “Yes, and the match-making slips in particular are said to be especially accurate.”

The ladies all laughed. It had become plain to everyone these past several days: though Cui Jingyu appeared cool and detached, he was in fact thoroughly in possession of the noble family’s manner, treating all ladies with great propriety. Even when the matrons teased him, he remained perfectly courteous — unlike young Marquis Wei Yushan, whose every word grated.

“The Young Madam jests,” Cui Jingyu said, his tone mild.

“What jest?” Han Yueqi pressed further. “Surely Marquis Cui does not intend to pass this year’s Flower-Banquet without settling the matter of his future?”

Cui Jingyu swept a calm gaze across the assembled ladies, and without surprise, he saw Ye Qinglan standing behind Han Yueqi with a composed expression.

She seemed entirely indifferent to his answer, and even had the leisure to look up at the Bodhisattva.

“I will, of course, find a mistress for the Marquis’s household at this year’s Flower-Banquet.” Cui Jingyu heard himself answer.

Though everyone had long known this was coming, hearing him say it aloud was still enough to bring barely-suppressed expressions of delight to the faces of the ladies present.

“Then you should most certainly draw a slip,” Han Yueqi said, giving nothing away.

Four years had passed, and much had changed. But these two stubborn souls — they had not changed a single bit.

Though Cui Jingyu had agreed in front of everyone to draw a slip, once he entered the main hall, he did nothing of the kind. He simply stood quietly inside, watching the oil lamps offered before the Buddha sway and flicker.

He had long since stopped believing in the Buddha.

By now, he had stopped believing in much of anything.

The sounds of the banquet reached him, but the music meant nothing to him, and neither did wine or pleasures of any kind. He was like a man standing apart from everything in this world, separated by a thin invisible layer. His inner world had been a wasteland for a long time now. He stood in the middle of an open wilderness, waiting quietly for a great snow to fall.

“Marquis, you’re standing here and yet you haven’t drawn a slip?” Han Yueqi’s voice came from the entrance of the inner hall.

She had come today deliberately to draw him here — almost certainly with something she wanted to say. Cui Jingyu was well aware. They all had things to say: Ye Lingbo had them, Han Yueqi had them, even Yanyan had them.

Only she — Ye Qinglan — had nothing to say.

Whether it was the broken engagement four years ago, or their reunion four years later — she seemed always to have nothing to say. She had drawn a clear boundary long ago, writing an ending for the two of them.

Cui Jingyu looked at Han Yueqi with calm eyes.

“I have nothing I want.” he answered.