Today was a peculiar day.

Shen Zhuxi was quite certain she had only just gotten out of bed — yet the moment she opened her eyes, she was in bed again.

She sat there in a daze for quite some time before the events of the previous day began to come back to her. She had sold her flower-patterned letter paper and been so delighted that she bought pig’s trotters and spirits. Zhou the sister-in-law had gone back to her maternal family’s home. She had run into Zhou Zhuang on the way, and come home just in time to meet the three Li brothers. They had all eaten the midday meal together…

And then? What had happened after that?

Shen Zhuxi squinted out the window. The little birds in the osmanthus tree chirped and chattered, accompanied by the occasional sound of wood being chopped in the courtyard.

She frowned, climbed out of bed, and immediately felt her joints ache — as though someone had picked her up and dashed her against the ground.

That Li Fart-Man — had he taken advantage of her sleeping to beat her again?

Shen Zhuxi rubbed her eyes and stepped out the door: “Li —”

The next instant, she leaped back in fright, every last trace of drowsiness vanishing in an instant.

“Li Wu! Why are you shirtless again!” She covered her eyes and stammered.

“I’m wearing my lower garment, aren’t I?” Li Wu’s voice drifted in from the courtyard.

“Put your top on as well!” Shen Zhuxi called out, her face burning red.

“I’m in the middle of working — why would I dress up like that? If my clothes get dirty, will you wash them for me?” Li Wu said. “You ruined my clothes yesterday, and I still haven’t settled that account with you!”

“When did I ruin your clothes!”

Shen Zhuxi opened her eyes in indignation — and was immediately confronted with the sight of Li Wu’s muscular upper body and the striking flying-phoenix tattoo embroidered in blue. She snapped her eyes shut again at once, but her cheeks had already grown hot.

“Yesterday.” Li Wu raised his axe and brought it down with force. The log below split apart with a crack. “You snuck the spirits and went into a drunken frenzy, grabbing and kissing whoever you could lay your hands on —”

“You’re spouting nonsense!” This was too much. Driven to indignation, Shen Zhuxi threw propriety to the wind — she opened her eyes wide and fired back immediately, defending her honor.

“I am Li the Fart-Man. Of course I spout nonsense.” Li Wu looked up at her with a cold smile.

“You —”

Shen Zhuxi was struck speechless with alarm. How did he know she called him Li the Fart-Man?

“Li the Duck, Li the Fart-Man…” Li Wu brought the axe down again. A thick log split in two before her. “Shen Zhuxi — never knew you had it in you —”

Li Wu’s sarcastic words completely robbed Shen Zhuxi of whatever courage she’d had to call him out for going shirtless. She tugged at the hem of her clothes, not wanting to believe it and yet unable not to: “I really did go into a drunken frenzy? And I… I was grabbing and kissing people?”

“Why would I make that up?”

The color drained from Shen Zhuxi’s face. She swayed.

“Who… who did I kiss?”

“There.” Li Wu jerked his chin toward the osmanthus tree nearby. “Yesterday you threw your arms around that and kissed it, and no one could pry you off.”

From the depths of hell straight back to heaven — that was precisely how Shen Zhuxi felt right now.

Learning that her purity was still intact, she no longer felt her heart racing or her legs going weak. Looking back at bare-chested Li Wu, she found it not quite so hard to accept — after all, his own purity was already gone. He could go about bare-chested all he liked. As long as her purity remained, hope remained.

“Why are you just standing there? Now that you’re up, come help with the work.” Li Wu said with poor grace.

“How can I help?” Shen Zhuxi asked.

She certainly hadn’t the strength to help chop wood.

Fortunately, Li Wu had no such expectations. He simply called her over to pick up the split firewood after each chop and prop the next log upright in position.

This was simple enough. Shen Zhuxi agreed at once. She brought out a small stool and sat beside Li Wu — each time he split a log, she would clear away the pieces and position the next one, and so it went, over and over in a steady rhythm.

She made a few attempts at conversation, but Li Wu’s replies were brief and his willingness to chat was low. Shen Zhuxi naturally fell quiet as well.

Li Wu at least had work to keep him occupied. She, for the most part, had nothing to do at all. With nothing to occupy the hands, the eyes had a tendency to wander — and once the eyes wandered, the mind followed.

The stack of firewood beside them had already grown four or five layers high. Li Wu paused from time to time to raise the back of his hand and wipe the sweat from his brow. His perspiration traced paths down his chest, giving the blue phoenix a sheen that made it seem as though the creature were swimming through water. Shen Zhuxi did not dare look too long — and yet her eyes kept wandering back to steal another glance.

The longer she looked, the more her thoughts began to drift.

Why did Li Wu keep twisting about while he chopped? Was it more efficient that way? And why did he keep sweeping his hair back?

She couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but since she had started stealing glances at Li Wu, he seemed to be working with considerably more vigor.

With his clothes on, Li Wu was tall and lean. How was it that without them, he looked so entirely different? Every time he swung the axe, the right arm bearing the blue flying-phoenix tattoo was like a river rock — hard and unyielding — gleaming in the sunlight.

Shen Zhuxi stared at the muscles of his arm, her mind wandering further and further afield.

Perhaps… this was precisely why he was suited to working as a companion-for-hire to support the household.

Everyone has their strengths. Being a companion-for-hire was not something just anyone could do. For Li Wu to make a living in this profession, he must surely have his own…

“What are you thinking about?” Li Wu suddenly spoke.

“…My own reasoning.”

“What reasoning? Are you simple?” Li Wu frowned. “Can’t you see how much I’m sweating?”

“I can see,” Shen Zhuxi said, utterly perplexed. “Of course I can see.”

Li Wu shot her a look. “And seeing it, you can’t even wipe it away for me?”

“Oh…”

Shen Zhuxi stood up in a vague muddle and went inside to find a cloth.

“I’m thirsty too — there’s a cucumber in the kitchen, bring me one. Do you have a fan? If you could fan me while I work, that would be best of all… If not, you could massage my shoulders. If it weren’t for heating your bathwater, I wouldn’t have to chop this much firewood or carry this much water every single day…”

Shen Zhuxi stopped walking and couldn’t help but turn around to point out: “Isn’t it Li Kun who carries the water? And the firewood too is usually…”

Come to think of it — why had he decided to chop firewood himself today? Hadn’t Li Kun always come by every fortnight to do it?

“Shen Zhuxi, you’re going on and on like that — does it mean you don’t want to wipe my sweat?” Li Wu pulled a sour face.

Shen Zhuxi turned and walked away without another word of argument.

After months of living together, she had accumulated considerable experience dealing with Li Wu. The best approach with Li the Fart-Man was to treat him like a fart — let him pop and bluster on his own.

She brought back both the cloth and the cucumber and handed the cucumber to Li Wu, keeping the cloth for herself. She wiped first around his eyes, then his cheeks, and when she went to wipe his forehead and rose onto her tiptoes, Li Wu’s forehead immediately dipped down to meet her.

Li Wu stood with legs spread apart, knees slightly bent, crunching through the cucumber with crisp, sharp bites. More and more split logs had accumulated on the ground. The sun in the sky had tilted considerably lower, and the summer cicadas that had been silent all morning suddenly erupted in chorus — steady and rhythmic, swelling and fading, utterly full of the spirit of summer.

The ancients had a saying: do not speak while eating or sleeping. Yet Li Wu chewed away loudly and said with casual indifference: “Why aren’t you talking about the impropriety of physical contact between men and women today?”

“…Times change.” Shen Zhuxi’s expression grew complex. “You treat me well, so naturally I treat you well in return.”

It was just wiping some sweat! She would do it! He was out there working as a companion-for-hire to support her — what was a little sweat-wiping on her part?

Li Wu had no idea what was running through Shen Zhuxi’s mind. He savored her rare attentiveness, and the corners of his mouth curled upward against his will.

“…You’re not entirely without conscience,” he said, pausing a moment before adding: “Foolish girl, I want to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Have you… ever kissed anyone before?”

Shen Zhuxi was so startled that her fanning hand stopped entirely.

“Of course not! I — I —” Her eyes grew red. “How dare you humiliate me like this!”

“I’m just asking, just asking — asking doesn’t take anything off you.” Li Wu raised his voice. “I’m simply curious, aren’t I?”

An inexcusably rude sort of curiosity! Shen Zhuxi bit her lip and continued fanning beside his face, reluctant but dutiful.

“I have one more question to ask you…”

Shen Zhuxi was already dreading whatever shocking thing he might say next. She cut in hastily: “Don’t ask anything more!”

Li the Fart-Man paid her no heed and carried on: “What if one day you were to discover… that you had actually kissed someone after all — what would you do?”

What a bizarre question.

Shen Zhuxi was just about to ask what he meant when her heart gave a sudden lurch: he… surely he wasn’t afraid that she would find out about his work as a companion-for-hire and look down on him for it?

“…What’s already done cannot be undone. I wouldn’t do anything.” She said: “Don’t worry.”

Li Wu did appear to be genuinely reassured — but then immediately furrowed his brows and said with poor grace:

“What do I have to worry about? What’s it got to do with me? I’m asking about you!”

He must have already sensed something… This pitiful man of common origins — he had sacrificed so much to shoulder the burden of supporting the family.

Shen Zhuxi held him in her sympathies and let him rail and grumble.

Shen Zhuxi wiped his sweat for him, then cupped her hand into a makeshift fan and did her best to fan beside his face. Before long, she grew tired, and the motion of her hand began to slow.

“Alright, I’m not hot.” Li Wu waved her hand aside and straightened back up.

He tossed the axe onto the ground, took the cloth from Shen Zhuxi’s hand, and wiped down his own body.

Shen Zhuxi averted her eyes, too embarrassed to watch, and cast about for something to say: “Did you know Zhou the sister-in-law has gone back to her maternal family’s home?”

“Gone back? I hadn’t heard.”

“Zhou the sister-in-law also helped me come up with ideas for selling the flower letter paper. Yesterday when I bought the pig’s trotters, I brought a portion over for her — but the one who answered the door was her son, Zhou Zhuang. He said she’d had a quarrel with the family and gone back to her maternal home in a temper.” Shen Zhuxi frowned with puzzlement. “But just a few days ago when I saw her, she said she wanted to teach me how to cook. How could she leave without so much as a word?”

Li Wu wiped himself down thoroughly with the cloth, looking scattered and inattentive, making it unclear whether he had taken in any of what she said.

“Do you know where Zhou the sister-in-law’s maternal home is?” Shen Zhuxi asked.

“Qingniu County.”

Shen Zhuxi pressed further to find out where Qingniu County was and learned that while it was still within Jinzhou, it was located in a remote area — even by ox-cart, the journey would take five or six days.

Zhou the sister-in-law had gone such a great distance, and there was no telling when she would return. Why hadn’t she mentioned it to her in advance?

Shen Zhuxi couldn’t quite name what she was feeling — only a deep unease settling in her chest. She lifted her head and looked out beyond the fence, searching for the place where the cicadas were loudest, and murmured softly: “…The weather is getting hotter and hotter.”

“Of course it is,” Li Wu said, casually draping the cloth over his shoulder. “Today is the sixth day of the sixth month — we’ve officially entered the three-month scorching season. It’s only going to get hotter from here. This is nothing yet.”

This was nothing yet? Shen Zhuxi felt a stab of dread. These past few days she had already been struggling to sleep from the heat — if it grew even hotter, what would she do?

No great tubs of ice, no refreshing chilled soup, no tireless fan of cool air — this was the first time in her sixteen years that Shen Zhuxi was confronting the full force of a summer’s heat with nothing to shield her.

“What did you usually do in summer when you were in the palace?” Li Wu suddenly asked.

“Read books, eat iced delicacies, or take my ease in the water pavilion. In summer I rarely went out…”

“You had nothing to do? No mistress to attend on?” Li Wu raised an eyebrow.

“…The Princess of Yue had other attendants to wait on her,” Shen Zhuxi said vaguely. “My role was simply to keep the Princess company — eating, enjoying diversions, and such.”

“No wonder you’ve got the manners of a princess despite the station of a palace maid —” Li Wu said. “You become like whoever you spend your time with. You spent yours with a pampered princess, so now you carry yourself like one.”

Shen Zhuxi treated his words like wind breaking — two muffled puffs in the air, and they were gone.

“Oh, that reminds me — I nearly forgot —” Shen Zhuxi suddenly remembered something and left Li Wu on the spot, hurrying back into the house.

A moment later, she came back out with a stack of books, walking briskly.

Li Wu watched her pace back and forth in the courtyard — looking up at the sky, then down at the ground — brows furrowed tight, as though deep in thought over some matter of the greatest importance.

“What are you circling about for?” Li Wu asked.

“I’m finding a spot to air the books out.” Shen Zhuxi answered offhandedly, too busy surveying the space.

After much deliberation, she settled on a spot with ample sunlight and shelter from the wind, and began carefully laying out the books one by one, spread open and spaced apart.

While she adjusted their positions with focused deliberation, Li Wu crouched down beside her and watched quietly as her fingers turned the yellowed pages.

Shen Zhuxi had been made to read many books she didn’t particularly enjoy, but in all honesty, she did love reading. Books had been her companions through the long, slow hours of the inner palace — a good teacher and a true friend.

Books were fragile things. A moment’s carelessness and the ink would fade, the paper might be damaged, so what seemed a simple airing actually required considerable care and attention.

Back in the palace, the Crown Prince had once organized an airing-of-books gathering. Shen Zhuxi had been invited to attend. When the Crown Prince extended an invitation, no one declined — every imperial prince and princess had gathered in the Crown Prince’s Eastern Palace, and they had aired their books together while composing linked verses in a chain, full of warmth and laughter.

The memory was still vivid before her eyes — yet of all those who had lived through those times, only she and the Crown Prince remained in this world.

Thinking of the past, she let out an involuntary sigh.

“You’re airing books — what are you sighing about?” Li Wu said.

“I was reminded of the last time I aired books.” Shen Zhuxi gazed distantly, and told him briefly about the book-airing gathering the Crown Prince had organized. When she mentioned the part about the princes composing linked verses, Li Wu’s brows drew together in displeasure.

“What’s so remarkable about composing verses? I’ve finished the Thousand Character Classic already — I can start learning to write poetry too.”

“You’re still a long way from writing poetry,” Shen Zhuxi said. “You’d need to study the Analects first, and once you’ve finished that, you’d move on to —”

“I refuse to study Confucius, and I refuse to study the old masters either.”

Shen Zhuxi looked at him in surprise.

So beyond knowing there was a Confucius, this Fart-Man also knew there was an Old Master?

“Then what do you want to study?”

“Just poetry.” Li Wu said. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll teach me to write poetry.”

“Whoever heard of someone trying to run before they’ve learned to walk?”

No matter how Li Wu argued, Shen Zhuxi held firm on this point.

Where in the world was there any sense in learning to write poetry after only finishing the Thousand Character Classic? If he had not read widely, he could never grasp the state of mind of the poets. If he could not feel as the poet felt, how could he appreciate a poem — let alone write a fine one himself?

“…Fine, if you won’t teach me, you won’t. What’s so great about poetry anyway? If I put my mind to it, I could dash off ten or twenty in a single night.”

Li Wu fumed and grumbled. Shen Zhuxi paid no attention, fully absorbed in arranging her modest collection of books. Li Wu stood up and ambled lazily toward the courtyard gate.

“I’m going to check on Li Kun and the others.”

Shen Zhuxi didn’t even look up and made a sound of acknowledgment.

Li Wu closed the fence gate, and his pace immediately changed entirely. He opened his stride and walked with the wind at his back, covering the distance to Li Que’s place in half the usual time.

Li Que was lying in bed asleep. The moment he heard that urgent, purposeful sound, he knew exactly who it was. His expression changed completely. He shot upright from the bed like a carp breaking the surface and scrambled frantically to pick up the sandbag he had thrown to the floor.

Li Wu had already come charging in. In the nick of time, Li Que stuffed the sandbag — which should have been strapped to his leg — underneath the blanket.

“Elder Brother — what brings you here?” Li Que gave an awkward laugh.

Li Wu dropped himself onto the bed, his expression grave.

“Elder Brother… what’s the matter? That look on your face has me a little frightened…”

Under the blanket, Li Que quietly pushed the sandbag a little further in.

“Go and buy me a book —” Li Wu lowered his voice.

Li Que looked puzzled. “A book? What kind of book does Elder Brother want?”

“A book that will teach me to write poetry after reading it.”

Li Que stared: “?”

What kind of wonder-book was this? He wanted one too.

Li Que considered for a moment, then ventured cautiously: “Why does Elder Brother suddenly want to write poetry?”

“That’s not your concern. Just go and get it. And remember —” Li Wu abruptly darkened his expression. “This is not to be spoken of to anyone. Especially your sister-in-law.”

“Your younger brother understands…”

Li Wu said nothing more. He stood up and strode back out just as he had come, swift and purposeful.

Only after he had left the room did it occur to Li Que —

Where on earth was he supposed to find a book that could teach Elder Brother to write poetry just by reading it?