Qin Yao’s gaze fell upon the box. She studied it for a moment, finding it strangely familiar, and looked up at Lin Xiao with a puzzled expression — only to find him watching her in absolute silence, his expression more solemn than she had ever seen it. She froze, a vague premonition stirring in her chest, and instinctively turned her head away to avoid his gaze.
Lin Xiao used the morning light streaming through the window to study the lines of Qin Yao’s profile. His gaze first settled on her smooth, fair forehead, then drifted slowly downward — past her clear, dark eyes, past her rosy lips — before finally coming to rest on her jet-black hair, pinned up in a double-looped bun. A faint flush crept onto his face, and at last, he opened the box.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Qin Yao quietly stole a sideways glance and let out a small sound of surprise. She turned to look more carefully, confirming without a doubt that it was the hairpin — the one depicting the search for plum blossoms in the snow — and stared at Lin Xiao in astonishment.
Lin Xiao gave a somewhat embarrassed smile. “A’Yao, I… know very little about what young ladies prefer. Before I met you, I had never once set foot in a jewelry shop—”
At those words, Qin Yao’s hands unconsciously tightened around the skirt draped over her knees. She cleared her throat softly and, flustered once more, turned her gaze aside.
Seeing her expression, Lin Xiao’s eyes grew even softer. “I wanted to please you, but I wasn’t sure what you liked. It happened that the last time we were at Runyu Pavilion, I noticed how much you admired this hairpin. On my own initiative, I bought it for you — and have been keeping it hidden for quite some time. It’s just that I never found the right moment to give it to you.”
Qin Yao did not dare look back at him, but she kept her ears attentively open, listening closely to every word.
Lin Xiao watched every shift in her expression with careful attention, and spoke with sincerity: “At the time, the shopkeeper told me this hairpin was called ‘Searching for Plum Blossoms in the Snow.’ It struck a chord with me — not only is the name beautifully chosen, but the meaning behind it is even more so. Since we first met in the Mang Mountains, half a year has passed. We have faced life and death together more than once, and time and again, the way you have conducted yourself has left me in awe. After I received the hairpin, I kept thinking — is your character and spirit not exactly like a solitary white plum standing in the snow? Delicate and luminous, yet remarkably resilient.”
Qin Yao grew increasingly flustered, sitting stiffly and slightly turned away, the tips of her ears flushing red.
Lin Xiao looked at her with a mix of adoration and tenderness. After a moment’s hesitation, he carefully took hold of her hand where it rested on her knees, and said quietly: “A’Yao — the mountain has its trees, and the trees have their branches; I hold you dear in my heart, yet you do not know. I have never spoken plainly of my feelings for you before. Perhaps now, with this hairpin as my witness, I can lay them bare — I have long admired you, and my heart is set entirely on making you my wife. I wonder… would A’Yao be willing to marry me?”
All at once, the world around Qin Yao fell silent. The singing of the performers on the stage below, the murmured conversations of the servants in the corridor, the laughter of passersby drifting through the window — all of it vanished. All that remained, echoing over and over in her ears, were Lin Xiao’s few clear and gentle words.
Lin Xiao waited a long while without receiving any response, and a faint anxiousness began to stir within him. But when he looked more closely, Qin Yao’s expression held only shyness — not a trace of displeasure. He understood at once, and a tide of joy surged through his heart, impossible to suppress any longer. His gaze searched her hair for a moment, found what he felt was the most perfect spot, and he rose to pin the hairpin there with great care.
The two of them sat facing each other in silence after that. Uncertainty floated softly through Qin Yao’s heart — about what lay ahead for the two of them, she had no certainty at all. When she let herself dwell on the difficulties, she came close, more than once, to lifting the hairpin from her hair and returning it to Lin Xiao, cheeks burning with embarrassment. But then she thought of his character and integrity, and especially of the time he had placed himself in danger to come looking for her — a man who had not faltered even when faced with Luo Cha — and gradually her heart settled, and many of her apprehensions dissolved.
Lin Xiao, for his part, found it impossible to look away from Qin Yao. Nestled among her thick, dark hair was a clear, crystalline plum blossom hairpin that made her seem lovelier than the flower itself. Though the day was warm, her skin remained cool and without a trace of perspiration; the arms and neck left exposed glowed with a brilliant, porcelain-like whiteness. Her upper garment was a vivid green, and beneath it a skirt of moonlit white lotus-silk, the pairing wonderfully pleasing to the eye. The skirt was cinched high at the chest, and the gentle curves visible there made his throat suddenly go dry. He forced himself to look away and reached for his teacup, taking a sip — only to feel the further dissatisfaction that the tea had not been chilled, and was wholly inadequate to cool or quench him.
Just then, a performance of The Transformation Text of Mulian concluded on the stage below, followed by a brief hush. Qin Yao stole a glance at Lin Xiao and found him gazing out through the curtain — his stone-blue brocade robe making his complexion appear as polished jade, his profile strikingly handsome. For no clear reason, a flush rose in Qin Yao’s cheeks, and she turned resolutely to look out the window.
Outside, the shimmering waters of South Garden Lake were dotted with painted pleasure boats, and fragments of laughter from the young men and women aboard drifted faintly over the air. Qin Yao watched quietly for a moment, then said: “There’s a breeze today — not as stifling as the past two days. Boating on the lake at a time like this would surely be quite pleasant.”
Lin Xiao turned to look at her with a smile. “If you’d like to go out on the lake, I’ll have someone make the arrangements at once.”
“Just the two of us?” Qin Yao turned to confirm, as if making sure.
Lin Xiao blinked, a touch surprised. “Naturally, just the two of us.”
Qin Yao shook her head and rested her arms on the windowsill again, her gaze wandering idly across the surface of South Garden Lake. “Boating is more lively with a group — you can joke and laugh, recite poetry, sing songs and so on. Back at the academy, whenever we had a free period, we classmates often used to spend the time together just like that.”
As she spoke, she suddenly remembered Wang Yingning and Liu Bingyu, and hastily scanned the boats on the lake, trying desperately to spot them. She had made plans to spend the day with them, and if she stood them up without explanation, they would surely never let her hear the end of it when she returned to the academy.
Noticing this, Lin Xiao was quiet for a moment, then rose and moved to sit beside Qin Yao, asking gently: “Are you looking for someone?”
“Mm.” Qin Yao nodded. “Two of my classmates. It’s a pity there are so many people today — it’s rather difficult to find them.”
Lin Xiao moved to the window, but he did not look out. Instead, he used the fractured, silver-like light reflected off the lake’s surface to study Qin Yao’s face at close range. Her lips were a moist, vivid red — undoubtedly from the lychees she had eaten earlier. Something stirred warmly in him, and he found himself wondering, almost against his will, whether those red lips might taste as sweet and cool as lychee.
He felt a deep sense of shame at the thought. Yet his eyes refused to obey him, and he could not seem to draw them away from her lips.
Qin Yao finished speaking and, finding that Lin Xiao had not responded for quite some time, thought it most peculiar. She was just about to turn and say something when the light before her eyes suddenly dimmed.
The crisp, cool scent that always seemed to surround him suddenly intensified. She felt a gentle pressure at her waist — and before she had any chance to understand what was happening, a warmth pressed softly against her lips. She froze completely. Something inside her mind seemed to detonate like a firework, the shock of it reverberating through her ears in a persistent hum, leaving her utterly incapable of thought.
By the time she finally understood what had happened, she was overcome with mortified embarrassment. She was just about to push Lin Xiao away when Chang Rong’s low voice came from outside the door: “Young Master.” He had not called him the Young Lord — clearly he was keeping up appearances.
Both of them stilled simultaneously. A brief silence followed, and then they sprang apart.
A wave of heat swept through Qin Yao from head to toe. Her hands trembled so badly she could not raise them to fix her hair. She was so overcome with shame and indignation that she wished the ground would swallow her — terrified that Chang Rong had already seen what had just passed between her and Lin Xiao, and furious at Lin Xiao for his recklessness. She shot him a resentful glare.
Knowing full well that he had acted impulsively and was in the wrong, Lin Xiao did not dare look at Qin Yao. He said only, in a displeased tone: “What is it.”
Chang Rong heard that Lin Xiao’s voice was hoarse and nothing like its usual clarity, and found it distinctly odd. Since he did not dare reply out in the corridor, he had no choice but to lift the curtain and step inside.
The moment he entered, he was struck by a wave of warmth — as though the room were somehow even more stifling than outside — which he found quite baffling. He glanced involuntarily at the Young Lord, and found his face deeply flushed, his breathing somewhat uneven. A vague suspicion formed in his mind, and his own face flushed scarlet. He inwardly cursed himself for his terrible timing.
He kept his gaze rigidly away from Qin Yao’s direction, dropped his head as low as he could, and wished he could gouge out his own eyes. He reported: “Just now, we went up to the second floor to apprehend that woman with the surname Chun Qiao. But the moment we arrived, she had already fled with her maidservant. I noticed there was another staircase exit in that building, so I gave chase through it — but no matter how long I searched in every direction, I could find no trace of her.”
Before his words had even finished, a series of panicked screams erupted from outside the window — seeming to come from the direction of the lake. Qin Yao’s heart lurched. She turned quickly to look outside.