The May breeze swept through, scattering fallen red petals.
Amidst the garden’s heavy floral scent, Song Qingzhao caught a whiff of mugwort from Ming Shu. The fresh, invigorating aroma cleared his mind. She walked beside him, head slightly bowed, eyes fixed on the longevity thread she had just received. Her delicate profile revealed clear contours of her brow, nose, lips, and chin—lines that would captivate any painter’s heart. Song Qingzhao was no exception.
He couldn’t recall when he first began thinking of her so often, remembering her every expression and movement. To him, she was an exceptionally intriguing girl, and each of their encounters felt like a serendipitous adventure, bringing life and anticipation to his otherwise mundane days.
Before meeting her, he had never experienced such feelings. Even in this garden bursting with blooms, all flowers had seemed fleeting and unremarkable. He had assumed he would follow his brother’s path: marrying a suitable bride from a good family when the time came, arranged by his parents, and spending a lifetime in mutual respect and support.
Youth knows not of love; only upon meeting does the heart rejoice. He realized he wasn’t devoid of expectations; he simply hadn’t met the right person until now.
Though their acquaintance was brief, it was enough for him to understand. She was the one he unexpectedly encountered among countless lights and vast crowds. With each meeting, his joy grew.
Song Qingzhao knew his mother was already selecting suitable matches for him, and that she favored Ming Shu. If his mother approved, the Guo Gong manor would naturally handle the rest, even if he did nothing. Yet, he still wanted to know Ming Shu’s thoughts. He hoped this wasn’t just his own expectation.
“Actually, I have something to ask you,” Ming Shu said, echoing his thoughts.
“Oh? What a coincidence,” Song Qingzhao’s eyes met her clear gaze, a faint smile playing on his lips as if responding to their unspoken connection. “You first.”
Ming Shu took a deep breath, biting her lip hesitantly before asking, “Do you often wear cyan robes?”
This strange question caught Song Qingzhao off guard. He looked at her quizzically and replied, “I suppose I do. Why do you ask?”
“Are you sure we’ve never met before?” Ming Shu pressed.
This was the second time she had asked him this question, wasn’t it? Song Qingzhao recalled her asking the same thing when they first met. He wished he had known her earlier, but searching his memory, he couldn’t find any overlapping past with her. Moreover, if they had met before, he was certain he wouldn’t have forgotten her.
“No, we haven’t. Our chance encounter at Songling Academy last year was our first meeting,” Song Qingzhao answered confidently.
Ming Shu lowered her head again, feeling both disappointed and oddly relieved. She was disappointed because she still couldn’t identify the man in her dreams, but relieved… She couldn’t quite explain why, but knowing Song Qingzhao wasn’t the person in her heart somehow eased her mind.
“Why do you keep asking me this?” Song Qingzhao inquired.
Ming Shu fidgeted with the longevity thread, pondering before answering honestly, “Because ever since I met you, I’ve been having the same dream about the same person. He always wears cyan robes, but I can’t see his face clearly.”
Song Qingzhao was stunned by Ming Shu’s revelation. His heart soared, and his voice betrayed his excitement: “Ming Shu, you…”
Suddenly realizing how easily her words could be misinterpreted, Ming Shu quickly turned to him, shaking her head and exclaiming, “Don’t misunderstand! That’s not what I meant.”
Embarrassed, she knew Song Qingzhao must think she was dreaming about him.
“It’s not what you think,” Ming Shu hurriedly explained, deciding to reveal the truth. “Before coming to the capital, I injured my head and developed a soul-leaving condition. I can’t remember my past. I don’t know who the person in my dreams is, but I thought he resembled you, so I wanted to figure out his identity.”
Her dreams had become increasingly bizarre, featuring not only the man in cyan but also surreal scenes. She had a hunch that if she could identify the man in her dreams, her memories might resurface.
Beyond the inexplicable flutter in her heart, this person’s existence was tied to her memories.
“Soul-leaving amnesia?” Song Qingzhao’s brow furrowed deeply.
Ming Shu nodded: “I feel like the person in my dreams is familiar, but no matter what I do, I can’t remember who he is. I only know he often wears cyan robes and bears some resemblance to you. That’s why I… offended you when we first met.”
She apologized awkwardly.
Song Qingzhao’s frown only deepened—her memory loss yet recurring dreams about the same man implied something significant. It meant this man held an important place in her heart, persisting even through her amnesia. Of course, this assumed such a person actually existed.
Perhaps the dream had nothing to do with her past, and she had simply misinterpreted it.
These thoughts raced through Song Qingzhao’s mind until Ming Shu’s voice brought him back: “Didn’t you have something to tell me too?”
Song Qingzhao snapped back to reality, looking into her bright eyes. The words he had prepared suddenly stuck in his throat. As he debated whether to speak, a maid came running back, calling urgently, “Miss… Miss…”
“Qingyao? What’s wrong? Weren’t you supposed to be with my mother?” Ming Shu’s brow furrowed.
The newcomer was Qingyao, a recently hired maid.
“I was with Madam, but when everyone gathered to admire a prized peony, I got pushed aside. When the crowd dispersed, Madam was gone. I’ve been searching nearby but couldn’t find her,” Qingyao explained, on the verge of tears.
Young and inexperienced, especially in such a grand estate, she panicked upon losing sight of her mistress. Unable to find Madam Zeng in the crowd, she came to seek Ming Shu’s guidance.
Ming Shu’s face darkened. “Take me there.”
“Don’t worry, Ming Shu. My manor is very safe. Your mother probably just took a wrong turn. I’ll help you look,” Song Qingzhao reassured her.
“Thank you,” Ming Shu replied calmly. As Song Qingzhao said, the Guo Gong manor was safe, and her mother wouldn’t be in danger. However, this maid’s carelessness in losing track of a person was inexcusable.
The three hurried to where they had last seen Madam Zeng. Not finding her nearby, Ming Shu remembered Lu San Niang was accompanying her mother. She asked around and quickly learned that Madam Zeng and Lu San Niang had gone to the small woods by the garden.
“Don’t panic in such situations. With so many people around, you should just ask for help,” Ming Shu instructed Qingyao as they walked along the pebble path towards the woods.
Qingyao replied dejectedly, “Miss, I did ask someone, but they pointed me in the wrong direction. I searched for a long time but couldn’t find her, and there were fewer and fewer people around, which made me even more anxious.”
Before Ming Shu could respond, she heard faint voices coming from the woods. Assuming it was her mother and the others, she hurried towards the sound without further investigation.
The woods were tranquil, with a single pebble path flanked by stone tables and benches. Scattered wildflowers bloomed along the way, creating a serene and elegant atmosphere. Madam Zeng sat on a stone bench, politely declining Lu San Niang’s offer to examine her ankle. “It’s not necessary, San Niang. I just stumbled a bit and might have twisted it slightly, but it’s nothing serious.”
Lu San Niang gently insisted, “Sprains can be minor or severe. We should check to ensure there’s no bone damage. Please, let me take a look.” She persisted in her attempt to examine Madam Zeng’s injury.
Madam Zeng pulled her foot back slightly. “Really, there’s no need—”
Before she could finish, two people hurriedly emerged from the woods.
“Madam, Miss, Top Scholar Lu has arrived,” announced Lu San Niang’s maid, leading Lu Chang towards them.
Both Madam Zeng and Lu San Niang turned their heads. Madam Zeng was delighted to see Lu Chang, while Lu San Niang stood up from the ground. They watched as Lu Chang swiftly approached Madam Zeng and knelt before her, asking, “Mother, what happened? Did you hurt your foot?”
Madam Zeng nodded, about to answer, but Lu San Niang spoke first.
“Master Lu, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have brought Madam into the woods. The path is treacherous, and she stumbled on a stone, nearly falling. I fear she may have sprained her ankle.”
The young woman’s voice was soft and melodious, pleasant to the ear.
“And you are…?” Lu Chang turned to look at her.
“This is the third daughter of the Lu family,” Madam Zeng answered on her behalf, then added, “It’s not San Niang’s fault. There were too many people outside, and I’m not good at socializing, so I wanted to find a quiet place. San Niang kindly offered to walk with me, but I wasn’t careful and tripped. It’s really nothing serious. San Niang was just being overly cautious when she sent her maid to call for help.”
Lu Chang acknowledged with a low murmur, thanked Lu San Niang, and then asked, “Where’s Ming Shu?”
“Lady Meng from the Guo Gong manor just came looking for her, so she left,” Lu San Niang replied.
Lu Chang didn’t say much more, only asking, “Mother, shall I carry you out on my back?”
“No need, no need. As I said, it’s not a serious injury. I can walk on my own,” Madam Zeng hurriedly declined, standing up to reassure them.
Lu Chang quickly rose to support Madam Zeng’s left hand, while Lu San Niang moved to help her from the other side. As Madam Zeng placed her right hand on Lu San Niang’s back for support, she heard a pained cry.
“What’s wrong?” Madam Zeng quickly withdrew her hand, concerned.
Lu San Niang’s delicate brows furrowed slightly, and she looked down, somewhat at a loss. She pulled up the sleeve where Madam Zeng had touched her.
Several scratch marks were visible on the young woman’s flawless, pale skin.
“Oh, you’re hurt! It must have happened when you were helping me earlier—you got scratched by the branches. It’s all my fault…” Madam Zeng exclaimed, distressed as she held Lu San Niang’s hand and blamed herself.
Lu Chang lowered his gaze to her back. Lu San Niang turned her head away, her cheeks flushed, and said, “It’s nothing, just a minor scratch. Please don’t blame yourself, Madam.”
“Let’s go out first, then we’ll have a doctor take a look…”
The young woman’s blushing face was captivating, but Lu Chang didn’t notice. His eyes merely swept over the wound on her hand, his voice emotionless. Before he could finish speaking, a familiar call came from the path.
“Mother!” Ming Shu ran out from the woods, stopping about ten paces away from them.
Before her, Lu Chang and Lu San Niang stood on either side of Madam Zeng. Lu San Niang’s fair, delicate hand was still extended, her face full of shy hesitation.
What was going on here?
“Ming Shu, slow down,” Song Qingzhao said, catching up and stopping beside her.
Lu Chang turned to look. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, a beam coincidentally falling on Ming Shu and Song Qingzhao.
Suddenly, the distance between him and Ming Shu seemed vast and insurmountable.