The sky was thick with dark clouds, just like Li Wu’s mood at that moment.

He lay on his side on the clean wooden planks beneath the eaves, lifted a wine jug, and took several long, gurgling swallows.

In such a scene as this, he ought to compose a poem.

But the moment he thought of the one person who could appreciate his masterpiece no longer being by his side, Li Wu lost all desire to compose anything.

He stared up at the gloomy, overcast sky, and the longer he looked, the more he felt heaven was mocking him.

“What are you staring at?!” Li Wu glared at the sky and cursed. “Believe it or not, I’ll rip you down from up there and stuff you into a pillow!”

The floating cloud in the sky that had been watching the spectacle fled at Li Wu’s cursing.

Still not satisfied, Li Wu sat up from the wooden planks and, gazing at the sky, continued to berate it:

“You just up and left without a care — did you ever think about how everyone at home has been on tenterhooks? Do you think I’m afraid of being dragged down by you? I’m afraid that heartless dog will gnaw you down to the bone!”

He cursed on and on, until every last cloud had been driven from the sky, before he lost interest, kicked over the now-empty wine jug, and stood up from the planks.

“I’ve talked my mouth dry — why hasn’t that blockhead shown up yet?” Li Wu muttered with discontent. “Usually she’d have appeared by now…”

Ever since Li Wu discovered that heaving a few sighs and looking miserable could earn him a lap pillow and a hug, he made a point of wearing a dejected expression whenever Shen Zhuxi was nearby. The moment she saw him like that, she was almost unfailingly ready to grant his every wish.

This method had never once failed.

Until a few days ago, when the blockhead began to be nowhere to be found.

He had no idea what she was busy with.

Whatever weighty matter it might be — could it really be more important than comforting her husband?

Li Wu went back to the bedroom — no one there. He opened the study — still no one. Not only that, but the servants who had been bustling back and forth just that morning had all vanished without a trace. The vast Li Residence seemed to have no one left in it but him.

He was just about to call out at the top of his lungs in search of his missing blockhead when a solitary drumbeat rang out from the back courtyard garden.

From the direction of the sound, it came from the back garden.

Li Wu narrowed his eyes and walked out of the study, reaching over to take the paper knife from the desk as he went.

“Boom—”

The drum sounded again — a single, isolated beat, and after it faded, the air returned to silence.

Li Wu concealed the paper knife in his sleeve and walked step by step toward the source of the drumming.

Turning past the covered corridor, he entered the back garden, lush with plants and dotted with ornamental rockeries. The Li Residence’s predecessor had still been a Li Residence — the former dwelling of Li Qia. Whether in terms of feng shui or décor, it had been first-rate. Since Shen Zhuxi moved in, she had made further improvements, channeling in a living stream to create a lake, lending the originally austere and secluded courtyard a hint of the gentle charm of a Jiangnan water town.

Li Wu’s gaze swept past the winding pool and curved railings and settled on the crimson figure within the water pavilion.

He stopped involuntarily.

“Boom—”

The drum sounded again, and this time he saw where it came from.

Dozens of silver platters of varying heights and sizes were arranged in the water pavilion. Each time the dancing slippers — encrusted with pearls and jade — struck a platter, the gems and the silver would produce a clear, resonant, sustained drumbeat.

“Boom boom boom—”

Shen Zhuxi, dressed in water-sleeve robes the color of gauze and dawn clouds, moved and swayed across the silver platters.

In Li Wu’s eyes, she was a delicate pink lotus, blooming against the cold, swaying in the wind.

Her waist was slender and yielding — yet no wind could break it.

Then a gust that rippled the surface of the pond carried with it the sound of a flowing zither, merging with the ceaseless drumbeats and drifting through the air like running water.

The zither’s lingering, gentle melody suddenly shifted, and the figure spinning and stepping across the silver platters seemed to merge with the music at the very same moment, accelerating together. The drumbeats quickened — like rain drumming on the eaves, ceaseless and surging.

The pink lotus opened its petals.

The crimson wide sleeves unfurled and spun like dusky rose-colored evening clouds, blanketing Li Wu’s entire field of vision.

The swift and intricate footwork sent the golden bells at her waist ringing clear and bright, and the shimmering multicolored gems made her entire form too dazzling to look upon directly.

Li Wu had never seen this side of her before.

He had seen many dances, yet never one that captured his attention like this.

It was not solely because the dancer was Shen Zhuxi — it was the quality of utter immersion in her, the joy that came from somewhere deep within, that made her dancing all the more radiant.

The already darkened sky grew heavier still in the urgent drumbeats, and with a great boom, a low rumble of thunder rolled across the horizon.

Then a flash of pale white lightning split the heavens.

Li Wu looked quickly to Shen Zhuxi. She was completely undisturbed — her vigorous, brilliant footwork continued with unbridled fluency, the drumbeats uninterrupted for even a moment.

She might have been completing a piece she had practiced for seventeen years.

Wholly absorbed, oblivious to the world.

She had shown off her tea ceremony in front of him, revealed her skill in zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting — yet not once had she mentioned that she could dance.

Nor had she ever said that she loved dance and music.

The rain came.

A fine curtain of rain veiled heaven and earth, and wisps of cold mist rose from the surface of the lake. In the misty, rain-soaked world, only that single pink lotus blazed with color, blooming defiantly against the wind.

He had thought her too absorbed to notice the wind and rain, but as the thunder pealed across the sky, her rhythm changed too.

The drumbeats quickened like fine rain, fast as lightning, and her footwork gradually incorporated the thunder — every time thunder rolled, it was the moment of a drumbeat and a sweep of sleeves.

Drumbeats answered thunder. The zither followed the dancing feet.

In this moment, the Shen Zhuxi before Li Wu’s eyes became one with the world. To look at her was to look at the world.

A world that was sometimes gentle, sometimes fierce — at times windswept, at times greeted by sunrise.

Watching Shen Zhuxi, Li Wu began to understand something of the feeling of those dissolute young lords who gave themselves over to pleasure.

If this was the kind of dance it was, he would be willing to watch it for the rest of his life.

With a thunderous crash, a white blaze tore apart the dark, rain-laden sky. Accompanied by a single deep, resonant, lingering drumbeat, Shen Zhuxi brought her footwork to a stop.

She was panting, and her body swayed on the silver platters — she nearly lost her footing.

Li Wu came back to his senses and strode in great steps toward the water pavilion.

He walked swiftly the whole way, but after his right foot crossed into the water pavilion, his pace slowed. He walked gradually up to Shen Zhuxi, whose face was full of anxious uncertainty, and noticed that her clothes were half-soaked — whether from rain or sweat he could not tell, as moisture had seeped through her gauze robes like breaking waves, blooming across the crimson fabric of her skirt.

She hesitated a moment, then pinched the hem of her skirt and asked, “Are you… happy?”

Li Wu was momentarily stunned.

“Every time I’m not happy, it’s always you who stays beside me, encourages me, guides me, and goes out of your way to cheer me up…” Shen Zhuxi said, her face flushed, stumbling over her words. “Li Que has left, and I know you’re very sad. I wanted to do something too — to help you find your spirits again.”

She paused. Those sincere and clear almond-shaped eyes met his gaze steadily.

“I want to make you happy, Li Wu.”

Beneath the gaze of those eyes, a wave of shame suddenly seized his heart.

She had gone to great lengths, tried everything, to help him pull himself together. Yet all he had done was use it to solicit sympathy, continually letting her worry — just to coax her into caring for him and giving ground.

“…I was wrong.”

After a long silence, Li Wu took off his outer robe and draped it around her.

“What have you done wrong?” Shen Zhuxi said, bewildered.

“I should not have made you worry.”

Before the words had even faded, Li Wu swept Shen Zhuxi up into his arms. The jade stones set into her dancing slippers scattered brilliant light.

Fine rain fell from overhead, but none of it touched Shen Zhuxi’s face.

Li Wu’s robe sheltered her from the rain.

She raised both hands and held them over Li Wu’s head, earnestly and determinedly trying to shield him from the wind and rain.

Li Wu carried Shen Zhuxi in great strides into the bedroom and set her down gently on the bed.

The rain had soaked through her shoes. He reached out to take them off, and Shen Zhuxi’s hand instinctively pressed down on his shoulder — he stopped his movements and waited patiently until that hand slowly lifted away from his shoulder.

He removed the rain-soaked dancing slippers and set them aside, then unwrapped the damp foot bindings, stopping when he caught sight of the bruises on the top of her foot.

“I haven’t—”

Before Shen Zhuxi could finish, Li Wu lifted her foot.

Not just the top of her foot — even across the arch, dark bruises spread like overcast clouds.

Li Wu looked at the bruises on her feet, and then said:

“These past few days, when you couldn’t be found — you were practicing this all along?”

Shen Zhuxi was a little embarrassed and murmured her assent.

“…Did you cry?” Li Wu asked.

Shen Zhuxi didn’t understand why he asked. Instinctively she said, “No.”

“Do you regret it?”

Shen Zhuxi met his eyes and said, “…I don’t.”

“Are you happy?”

“Happy.”

Li Wu smiled. “Then that’s all that matters.”

He rose and took several jars of medicinal ointment from the gauze cabinet beside him, then fetched a clean cloth and crouched back down before Shen Zhuxi.

Pearl-white, jade-smooth fingers appeared and disappeared within the cloth. Li Wu carefully tended to every corner, wiping away every trace of moisture from her feet, then applied a thin layer of medicinal ointment to the bruised areas.

Shen Zhuxi quietly watched his focused profile and, without realizing it, became completely absorbed.

When the medicine had been applied, Shen Zhuxi was just about to draw her foot back when she suddenly let out a stifled cry.

Li Wu had lifted her smooth, bare foot and pressed a kiss to her toes, where there was no ointment.

Shen Zhuxi’s face burned scarlet and she was just about to demand an explanation, when Li Wu raised his head — his gaze calm and direct — and met her eyes.

“I’m very happy,” he said. “Shen Zhuxi — it’s because of you that I can be this happy.”

He wiped his hands clean, personally put clean foot bindings on for her, then rose and walked toward the outer study.

“I also have a gift to give you.”

Shen Zhuxi sat on the bed, puzzled, and waited.

It was not long before Li Wu returned, holding something she never could have imagined.

“This is my gift.”

Li Wu crouched before her again, took her hand, and placed the cold length of bamboo into her palm.

“For you.”

The cold bamboo seared her palm. Shen Zhuxi startled and tried to pull her hand away from the twin ceremonial tablets, but Li Wu gripped her hand and would not let go.

“This is an imperial gift!” Shen Zhuxi said urgently.

“So what?” Li Wu said without a care. “I said long ago that what is mine is yours — did you think I was only saying it?”

“This is different…”

“There’s nothing different.” Li Wu’s expression was resolute. He looked into her startled eyes and said, “I’m not someone who knows how to say sweet words, not like some dogs who can talk flowers into bloom — but every word I’ve ever said to you, I’ve meant. Whether it’s this official seal or this worn bamboo rod, whether it’s reputation or wealth—”

Li Wu gripped her hand, enclosing the ceremonial tablets within their joined grasp.

“What is mine is yours. Even if the sky falls, that will not change.”

Shen Zhuxi believed him.

Strangely, just a year ago she had repeatedly harbored doubts about him — no matter what he promised, she could not help but imagine the worst. Yet now, she could not even summon the thought of suspicion.

Li Wu’s wholehearted pledge moved her deeply. Shen Zhuxi returned his grip and said sincerely:

“What is mine is also yours. Even if the sky falls, that will not change.”

At her earnest response, Li Wu looked at her and broke into a wide grin.

His smile was like a switch being flipped inside her, and she found herself unable to hold back a smile of her own.

“How is it you never mentioned before that you could do this?” Li Wu asked.

“My mother consort didn’t like me practicing dance… Fu Xuanmiao also said it was ‘the business of entertainers.'” Shen Zhuxi paused and looked at him nervously. “What do you think?”

“I think — as long as you enjoy it, that’s all that matters.”

Li Wu dropped himself down beside her, leaning back and sprawling out on the bed with easy abandon.

He found her hand and held it firmly.

“Even if you liked scooping out manure, I’d go scoop it with you. I don’t care what others think — I only care that you’re happy.”

Li Wu’s words instantly shattered the intimate mood that had settled between them.

Shen Zhuxi was just about to protest at his completely mood-killing comparison when Li Wu continued:

“Because when you’re happy, I’m happy. No matter what anyone else thinks, I only want you to be the most genuine version of yourself. Because the one who moved my heart — is this version of you. The version of you who tries harder than anyone else to live well.”

Shen Zhuxi stared at him, utterly forgetting the complaint she had been about to voice.

“Shen Blockhead—” Li Wu said.

“Hmm?”

“I really, really like you.”

“…”

Shen Zhuxi’s face blazed burning hot.

After a long moment, a voice softer than a mosquito’s hum emerged from her lips:

“…I really, really like you too.”