Pork and cabbage dumplings. Garlic-braised chicken feet. Braised beef. Stone-pot chicken…

Over the span of two months, Li Wu cooked an ever-changing variety of homestyle dishes that left Shen Zhuxi’s palate in constant amazement.

But the satisfaction of the body could not bring ease to the spirit. Though the dining table offered something remarkable each day, Li Wu grew quieter and quieter, and the time Shen Zhuxi spent gazing blankly at the gate stretched longer and longer.

They had stayed in Wucheng County for two full months, and still there was no word of any kind from Li Kun or Li Que.

Without her noticing, Huzhou had slipped into spring. Every day, the queue of refugees sharpening their wits to get into the city grew a little thinner, and on the third day of the third month — the Shangsi Festival — it stopped altogether.

The Shangsi Festival was the most important day of the ritual purification ceremonies. When Shen Zhuxi had still been in the palace, a grand banquet would be held on this day. After the daytime celebrations, the entire palace — from consorts and princesses down — would undergo a thorough cleansing: the consorts and princesses had large bathing pools, and the palace maids and eunuchs also received extra rations of water and soap-bean powder for their baths.

The common people were no less active on this day. They would gather in groups to bathe outdoors along riverbanks, a practice called “ritual purification in flowing water,” meant to wash away impurity and drive off ill fortune.

Spring outings were equally central to the day’s activities. Unmarried young women made a point of staying away from places with streams and rivers, for fear of stumbling upon men in the middle of their ritual bathing and ending up thoroughly flushed with embarrassment.

When Shen Zhuxi had first come to Wucheng County, she had known no one. Two months later, she had woven herself seamlessly into the neighborhood — whether it was Chen from the fruit-and-vegetable stall, or the Wang woman who sold pastries, they would call out to her whenever their paths crossed, chat warmly for a while, and press a few small things into her hands as she left.

When they learned she was already married, they were genuinely disappointed for several days.

Even so, when Shen Zhuxi asked them to keep an eye out for a man who stood nine feet tall and another with red pockmarks on his face, they agreed without hesitation.

In gratitude for these warm-hearted women, Shen Zhuxi drew out several embroidery patterns that had been fashionable in the palace and gifted them — which made the women so delighted that they sent her off with another wave of fruits, vegetables, and pastries.

Shen Zhuxi hoped Li Wu would go out more, but most of the time he shut himself inside the courtyard. When she spoke to him, he was the same as ever — full of his usual idle remarks — yet whenever she stepped out of the room and crept back to look, his silhouette sat heavy with a quiet despondency she couldn’t name.

For the past five days, Li Wu had not once spoken Li Kun or Li Que’s names aloud. A dreadful possibility kept surfacing in Shen Zhuxi’s mind: could it be that Li Kun and Li Que were never going to appear?

If everything had gone as it should, they ought to have arrived at Wucheng County long ago.

What kind of mishap could be great enough to halt both of them at the same time? Shen Zhuxi dared not think too deeply.

On the day of the Shangsi Festival, Shen Zhuxi convinced Li Wu to come out for a walk. Li Wu agreed, but remained in low spirits throughout. That night, in the early hours, Shen Zhuxi half-woke from sleep and reached out of habit to push aside the feather duster that had been encroaching on her space — only to find the other side of the bed cold and empty.

Sleep vanished from her entirely. She startled awake.

“…Li Wu?” She called out softly. No answer came from anywhere inside or outside the room.

She sat up, wrapped herself in her outer robe, and walked out of the main bedroom.

No one in the front courtyard. No one under the covered walkway. No one in the back courtyard.

“Li Wu?”

Shen Zhuxi stood in the suddenly vast and quiet courtyard, and heard her own voice begin to waver.

“Silly thing — look up.”

A familiar voice came from somewhere above her head.

Shen Zhuxi looked up: the sky held only the moon — and perhaps Chang’e and her rabbit, she supposed, but she was fairly certain it did not contain a certain individual.

“Where are you?” Shen Zhuxi asked in a panic.

“Walk ten steps forward. Then turn around and look up.” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi did as she was told — ten steps forward, a turn, then she looked up.

“Shen Silly Thing — who told you to look at the sky? I’m not dead yet!” Li Wu’s voice came down, irritated.

Shen Zhuxi finally traced the voice to its source. Following the sound, she looked — and there was Li Wu, sprawled on the rooftop with wine and food arranged beside him, perfectly at ease.

“How did you get up there?” Shen Zhuxi searched for a ladder and eventually found it propped against the side wall, reaching up to the roof. She had been so focused on finding Li Wu that she hadn’t noticed something so obvious right in front of her.

“What are you doing on the roof? It’s dangerous up there!” Shen Zhuxi said, uneasy. “Come down!”

Li Wu slanted a glance at her. “Come up.”

“I’ve never been on a roof!”

“You can be now.” Li Wu said. “The ladder is right there. Come up if you want to; if you don’t, go back to sleep.”

Shen Zhuxi watched him lean back on one long leg, tilt a nearby wine jug with a single hand, and drink a deep, unhurried swallow — and she was terrified he might get drunk and tumble rolling off the edge. She set her jaw, walked over, and stood at the foot of the ladder.

Climbing a ladder — this was the kind of thing she had never dared even contemplate before. Had her late father the Emperor known about it, she would have been confined to her quarters for a month with no exceptions.

But now, her father and her mother were both gone, and she had already done more than a few things that flew in the face of propriety — what was one more ladder to climb?

She set her foot on the first rung, and the sensation of most of her sole hanging in the air was entirely new.

Shen Zhuxi gripped the sides of the ladder with both hands and climbed rung by rung. Rather than fear, what rose in her was excitement — like a caged bird released into the open at last, finally free to spread its wings. She had betrayed the old conventions; she was no longer the living statue in the palace, there to be kneeled before and revered.

She climbed faster and faster, giddy with the joy of breaking free, carefree and unafraid, pressing upward without stopping. When she neared the top of the ladder, she saw that Li Wu had been steadying it the whole time, holding the upper end to keep it balanced.

Shen Zhuxi climbed the last few rungs and reached out to take the other hand Li Wu extended toward her. He pulled hard, and she came up onto the roof.

Shen Zhuxi didn’t have time to stop her momentum — she tumbled straight into Li Wu’s arms, and the two of them fell together onto the rooftop.

Four eyes met. The wind was calm and the moon was clear.

Li Wu looked at her steadily, not saying a word.

Her loosened hair fell like a waterfall, enclosing him completely in a fragrant, softly drifting cage.

Li Wu’s throat moved.

Shen Zhuxi stared back at him, motionless.

“Shen Zhuxi… I can’t handle provocation.” Li Wu’s hand found the back of her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to get up?”

Shen Zhuxi came back to herself with a jolt, scrambled off him in a flustered rush, her cheeks burning.

Li Wu sat up, his expression unhurried and half-serious: “Next time I won’t warn you.”

“There won’t be a next time!” Shen Zhuxi retorted, red-faced.

Li Wu’s mouth curved slightly. “Hard to say.”

The smile came quickly and vanished just as fast. Li Wu’s expression settled back into stillness; the eyes that were usually full of bright, restless energy had gone as deep and still as a pool with no bottom.

Shen Zhuxi drew a breath, fingers working at the hem of her skirt, her tone deliberately casual: “Are you worried about Li Kun and the others?”

“…Two grown men. What’s there to worry about.”

Li Wu wrapped his hand around the wine jug and drank deeply.

“I’m very worried about them.” Shen Zhuxi said.

Li Wu said nothing. He set down the jug and stared in silence at the ink-dark expanse of sky.

“I lived alongside the two of them for a year. Now that they’ve gone without a word, I worry — at mealtimes I wonder what Li Kun is eating today; when I’m trying to sleep I wonder what Li Que got up to today. And if even I feel this way, what is there to be embarrassed about in admitting you’re worried about your two younger brothers?” Shen Zhuxi turned to look at Li Wu, who was sitting silent beside her, and said: “Seeking help from others is not a sign of weakness — or did you forget who told me that?”

“I’m not particularly strong… and I’m nothing like Li Que when it comes to words. But my lips are sealed. Not a single secret of yours have I ever let slip to anyone.” Shen Zhuxi spoke with simple, earnest directness: “I can’t do much to help — but I can listen. It will be easier once you’ve spoken it aloud, rather than keeping it sealed inside.”

“When I was in the palace… every palace maid and eunuch I encountered every day, none of them were willing to talk to me. The ones who were willing… didn’t actually care what was going on inside my heart.”

Shen Zhuxi’s voice grew quieter. Her hands, which had been smoothing her skirt, stilled and began instead to fidget with it.

“I know what it feels like — to be surrounded by people on all sides, and yet feel utterly alone…” She paused, then lifted her head and met Li Wu’s eyes directly. “You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to. But you need to remember: I am right here.”

Shen Zhuxi spoke at length, broken up with hesitations born of shyness — yet Li Wu did not interrupt her once.

She had tried her best to weave her words into something true, something that would express the most honest version of what she felt inside.

When she had fallen into self-reproach, it was Li Wu who had pulled her out again and again — so when it was Li Wu’s turn to sink, she wanted to reach out and pull him back with everything she had.

Shen Zhuxi said, word by deliberate word: “…Li Wu. You are not alone.”

Li Wu’s grip tightened on the edge of the wine jug, and for a long while he did not speak.

The bright moonlight gilded the roof tiles with a layer of shifting silver; the night breeze carried with it the sweet freshness of dew.

Then, suddenly, Li Wu’s hand closed around hers.

“…Not as gifted with words as Li Que?” Li Wu’s eyes burned as he looked at her; the flicker of his old spirit was stirring back to life in his gaze. “I think you talk circles around him.”

“You flatter me…”

Shen Zhuxi’s face flushed. The hand that had been caught in his quietly pulled, trying to slip free.

Li Wu said: “Only when you speak does my heart beat this fast.”

Shen Zhuxi went completely still.

What he meant by that… could it possibly mean…

The two shadows on the roof tiles drew closer and closer. In the moonlight, Li Wu looked different from how he appeared by day — something lighter and a touch reckless had come into him, and the night wind passed through his eyes like a ripple moving across a mirror lake.

“What — what are you doing?” Shen Zhuxi said, her words stumbling.

Li Wu pressed one hand to the back of her head, cutting off her retreat.

“I can’t handle provocation.” He said, his voice low. “Shen Silly Thing — do you want to be my wife for real?”

He lowered his gaze, and it came to rest on her lips.

Time seemed to stop. The world was vast and open, but in Shen Zhuxi’s eyes there was only Li Wu, leaning slowly closer.

The heart inside her chest took off at a wild, ungoverned gallop.

His warm breath had already settled on her lips.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and the fragrance of night dew drifted up to her nose. As if under a spell she could not name, Shen Zhuxi closed her eyes.

The bolted courtyard gate suddenly erupted in loud, urgent knocking.

“Big brother! Sister-in-law! We’re back!”