Once upon a time…

I had fantasized countless times about reuniting with Nie Ran.

Initially, when I barely survived the raging waters, I imagined that on a dark and windy night, I would suddenly appear beside him dressed in white robes, smiling sinisterly: “You never expected I’d come looking for you again, did you? Every grievance has its source, every debt its debtor—I’ve come to claim your life!” Then I’d scare him to death.

Later, during my wandering days, thinking I’d seen through human nature’s coldness, I only hoped that one day, even if we met on the road, I would merely smile calmly: “Forget it. Nine out of ten things in life are unsatisfactory—just remember the one or two good ones. From now on, let’s be strangers.” Then I’d turn gracefully, while he gazed at my retreating figure, falling into deep self-reproach.

When Song Langsheng brought me back and I learned I was a princess, I loved lying in bed with closed eyes, imagining: when Marquis Xia Yang brought his son to court one day, I would recline in phoenix robes on my throne. Seeing Nie Ran’s shocked expression, I’d raise an eyebrow wickedly: “Long time no see, Xu Fang… Oh, should I call you Young Master instead?” Then he’d kneel begging “Princess, spare my life!” while I pointed: “Guards! Arrest this treacherous villain!” Then I’d throw back my head in wild laughter echoing endlessly through the hall.

I admit I was somewhat fanciful, but…

When I’m naked soaking in hot springs in the wilderness and someone suddenly appears asking who I am… wouldn’t this kind of reunion be even more absurdly fanciful…

I panicked momentarily, then lowered my head and said in a deep voice: “This student is from Guangwen Hall. I caught cold earlier and came here to soak in hot springs to improve circulation and dispel the chill…”

The person behind me didn’t speak immediately, seeming to consider my answer’s credibility. I waited and waited. Seeing he still didn’t speak, I said: “May I ask why Director of Studies is here at this hour?”

Nie Ran chuckled: “I don’t recall ever going to Guangwen Hall to teach… You recognized me just from my voice—are you quite familiar with me?”

I broke out in cold sweat immediately: “When Director of Studies first arrived and gave that guidance in Biyong Hall, this student benefited greatly. Naturally, I’ve memorized your voice.”

Nie Ran said: “Enough—no need for such false words. First come ashore and dress properly before we talk.”

Come ashore… get dressed… naked in front of you…

I shrank deeper into the hot spring: “This student isn’t accustomed to being naked before an official. Could you please look away first?”

“A grown man being so precious?” Nie Ran laughed lightly. I heard his footsteps gradually moving away. When I turned, I saw his back—as always serene and cool in the moonlight. He stopped not far away, lifted his robes, and sat on a blue stone, quietly gazing into the distance.

I quickly climbed out of the hot spring, unable to dry myself properly, dressing as fast as possible while keeping watch on his direction. Only after I’d tied my outer robe and arranged my hair crown did I breathe a small sigh of relief.

Nie Ran never turned around. I thought he had little interest in a student who’d snuck out for midnight hot spring bathing.

I said: “Director of Studies, if there’s nothing else, this student will take his leave.”

Nie Ran hummed acknowledgment—essentially letting bygones be bygones.

My mind was completely muddled. I dared not linger, but just as I was leaving, I heard the melodious sound of a flute.

My whole body stiffened. As if possessed, I turned back to see his profile in the clear moonlight—like an ink painting, elegant and tranquil. The flute in his hands was exactly the jade flute I’d given him—inferior jade, crude workmanship. The piece he played was the song he’d composed for me: “Gentle Breeze and Moon.”

More than half a year ago, that morning when Marquis Xia Yang’s servants came looking for him, he drove them away but turned to see me silently weeping.

That night, we sat under the great scholar tree in Chen Family Village. I listened to him play this song for me and asked: “Why is this piece called ‘Gentle Breeze and Moon’? It’s somewhat like our names, yet different.”

He touched my nose tip and smiled: “Do you know… why I named myself Xu Fang and called you He Feng?”

I thought for a moment and shook my head: “I’d rather hear you explain.”

He smiled slightly, a melancholy smile: “When I first came to Chen Family Village, I liked sitting alone on the other side of the mountain watching sunrise and sunset. I often speculated about various past possibilities, confused about where to go next. I didn’t know where my warmth lay, so I hoped this name would help me find answers. Later, I met you. You were very troublesome—amnesia left you completely confused, spoiled and willful. I saved you out of compassion and hinted several times that you should leave, but you just couldn’t sense it. Truly gave me unspeakable suffering.”

Hearing this, I glared at him displeasedly. He continued: “Until one day, I returned from hunting to find you weren’t in the room. Only then did I frantically search everywhere, realizing how worried I was about you. Your illness was strange—sleeping would make you forget the day’s events by morning. How could you wander outside alone? I finally found you sitting by the river in silence. I stayed with you a long while before you smiled and said, ‘Am I your burden? Have I caused you much trouble?’ Though your lips smiled, your eyes were full of tears.”

I said quietly: “These things… I don’t remember any of them…”

“Yes, how could you remember? Even if my attitude toward you was inappropriate the previous day, how could you remember after one night?” Xu Fang’s eyes shone: “Only then did I know that though you’d lost your memory, your heart was so sensitive and fragile. You remembered in your heart who treated you well and who didn’t. Just because you didn’t speak didn’t mean you didn’t think. Your demands for good food, drink, and lodging were just testing whether I valued you… I felt terrible. I regretted how I could treat you that way. Later I brought you home, and under moonlight I made you a promise—wherever you are, I’ll be there. Gentle and warm, warmth follows gentleness, wherever the wind blows is my direction. You’re called He Feng, I’m Xu Fang.”

I asked: “‘Gentle Breeze and Moon’—Xu Fang and He Feng’s promise under moonlight, is that what it means?”

Xu Fang nodded. I wiped my tears and said: “But this is Xu Fang and He Feng’s promise, not Nie Ran’s.”

“Can I not be Nie Ran? I prefer being Xu Fang.” Xu Fang turned and smiled: “Actually, that day I remembered everything. Suddenly I realized my previous life might have been waiting for someone like you. I’m grateful heaven let me experience hardship, lose my memory, and meet you. Though I don’t know what obstacles we’ll face or whether we can overcome those difficulties, one thing I’m certain of—just thinking about being with you in the future already makes me very content.”

“I think…” I looked at Xu Fang: “Even if one day I’m so old I can’t eat well or sleep soundly, can’t go anywhere, can’t tell grandchildren from great-grandchildren apart, I’ll never forget what you said today. I’ll remember it always, using it to smile.”

Nie Ran’s flute music stopped halfway.

Stopped exactly where that day in the bamboo grove, when I sang and he played, where I stopped and he stopped.

He tried to continue playing, attempted a few notes but couldn’t connect them no matter what, so he had to start over.

I became confused again.

Had he truly lost his memory? Because he couldn’t remember the past, he couldn’t play this piece completely, only stopping at that moment? Or… remembering that day’s scene, he could no longer continue playing? Why was he playing music here at this time?

I stood there staring and thinking in a daze, my soul flying to the ninth heaven. When I came to my senses, I realized Nie Ran had turned around and was gaping at me speechlessly.

We maintained distance, looking at each other. He didn’t approach, and I didn’t retreat.

I thought I would turn and run regardless of everything, but I couldn’t move my feet. Tonight’s moonlight was so bright—I could see his face clearly, and he could see mine.

In the quiet mountain forest, he stood so elegantly facing the wind, his expression so incredulous, wanting to approach yet not daring: “You… are still alive?”

How should I answer? Should I be cold or mocking? Should I say I don’t know you, I’m just someone who looks like your friend? Or should I say I survived disaster—are you disappointed?

I heard my voice say: “Mm. After being swept away by the flood, someone saved me. Never thought I’d see you again.”

Nie Ran stepped forward twice then stopped, as if I were some ghost that might devour him: “Why… are you here…”

I said: “I wandered to the capital and met old friends who brought me to play at the Imperial Academy, so I disguised myself as a man. Being here tonight is just coincidence.”

Nie Ran nodded blankly: “You…” He said “you” for a long time without continuing.

I smiled: “Do you still hate me?”

He didn’t react: “What?”

“Back then, when I took Zhao Yanran and jumped into the river…”

“I know.” Nie Ran’s gaze met mine: “You blocked that arrow to save me, jumped into the river to save Yanran…”

“Did Zhao Yanran tell you? She’s truly a good girl.” I smiled: “I’d been misunderstanding her, thinking she wouldn’t say anything. Now the misunderstanding is cleared, I’m not dead, and you needn’t feel guilty. Everyone’s safe and sound—that’s good.”

Nie Ran stood quietly, silent for a long while, then softly hummed acknowledgment.

I exhaled: “It’s so late—let’s go back first.”

“Miss He Feng.”

I stopped again.

“I should call you that, right?” Nie Ran said: “Yanran told me that during my two years of amnesia, I spent a full year with you.”

I closed my eyes tightly, trying not to let tears escape, but they stubbornly squeezed through my eyelids and fell.

Nie Ran said calmly: “Yanran said I brought you to Suiyang then, returning home to ask my father to break the engagement with the Zhao family, but my father refused and locked me in my room. What happened after, she doesn’t know, my father won’t say, and I don’t remember…”

I nodded: “So that’s how it was…”

Nie Ran said heavily: “I’m sorry I couldn’t trust you then. After the incident, I kept sending people to search for you. I thought you…”

“Actually…” I said with a hoarse voice and difficulty: “That wasn’t your fault. When you recovered from serious illness, naturally you’d trust your family and childhood friend. I was just a stranger who’d kidnapped your fiancée. Anyone would have acted the same in that situation… Sometimes when reason is clear, even if emotions can’t accept it, one must acknowledge it.”

I tried to make my laughter sound more cheerful: “It’s not like those legendary tales where lost memories leave the heart still yearning. I forgot the past too and can’t feel any of those emotions… So you really needn’t be like this…” I glimpsed the jade flute in his hands and fell silent. Following my gaze, he looked down, a trace of gentleness flashing in his expression: “This is the jade flute you left behind. That day you asked me to play ‘Gentle Breeze and Moon’—truly a beautiful piece, sounding exactly like gentle sun, wind, and moon. I’ve been wondering how the rest of this piece should be played…”

I suddenly said: “This is a piece you composed.”

Nie Ran frowned in confusion, then a flash of clarity appeared, wanting to speak but stopping: “About the past, I truly remember nothing at all…”

I nodded somewhat slowly. Tonight I’d been nodding constantly—I didn’t know if I was convincing him or myself: “Because when you wrote this piece, you told me ‘Gentle Breeze and Moon’ meant Xu Fang and…”

“Miss He Feng.” Nie Ran interrupted me, saying slowly: “Afterward I consulted many physicians, even famous doctors. They all said there was no blood clot in my brain, no signs of poisoning. Suddenly losing that period of memory is truly baffling—I’m afraid I’ll never remember for the rest of my life…”

I stared at him blankly, finally repeating after a long moment: “Never… remember again?”

Nie Ran placed the jade flute in my hands, saying gently: “I know those memories are very profound for you, miss. However, since things have passed, the past cannot return. Being deeply trapped in it isn’t good for anyone. I hope you can forget like me—it would be good for both you and me, wouldn’t it?”

Heartache—unexpectedly painful, even breathing hurt. I took the jade flute and smiled: “Don’t worry, I won’t pester Director of Studies again. Perhaps I was always wrong—you are you, he is he. From the moment you awakened, Xu Fang already disappeared.” I gripped the jade flute: “But I won’t forget those memories. Remembering them is my promise with Xu Fang—it has nothing to do with Young Master Nie, does it?”

Nie Ran looked at me somewhat surprised: “Since you think this way, miss, I have nothing more to say.”

I stared at him unblinkingly. I thought my whole heart had never been calmer than now: “My greatest regret is that Xu Fang left so suddenly—I didn’t get to say goodbye. Young Master Nie, if you don’t mind, could you close your eyes and be quiet for a moment, saying nothing and doing nothing?”

Nie Ran blinked in confusion but didn’t ask more, closing his eyes as requested and standing quietly before me. I wiped away more tears, calmly studying this face—such gentle features also belonged to Xu Fang. I softly reached out, tracing through the air, recalling every past scene and those words: “Gentle and warm, warmth follows gentleness, wherever the wind blows is my direction.”

I’m such a fool.

That Xu Fang who could cry and laugh, blush and get angry, sweat nervously and tremble with fear—how could such a person be pretended by the man before me?

Ultimately, I just didn’t want to believe that such a wonderful Xu Fang could never be seen again. But like stars in the sky that vanish in an instant, as long as I remember that moment’s beauty, I’m still very, very happy, aren’t I?

Xu Fang, goodbye.

“Alright.” I stepped back: “From now on, we owe each other nothing.”

Nie Ran opened his eyes: “Miss speaks incorrectly. If you need anything that Nie Ran can help with, I’ll try my best…”

“Director of Studies, I think you underestimate me. I, He Feng, have some abilities.” I laughed heartily: “However, toward you I might not have such magnanimity. If we meet elsewhere in the future, don’t be too surprised. As you said, you absolutely must forget these tangled complications.”

“Good.” Nie Ran smiled bitterly: “The night is deep—let me escort you down the mountain.”

“No need.” I stepped back twice more and cupped my hands: “Director of Studies should return first. I’ll be fine alone.”

As Nie Ran was about to say more, I added: “At times like this, it’s better to maintain boundaries. Please don’t make things difficult for me.”

“Then take care of yourself. I’ll go first.” Nie Ran sighed almost imperceptibly, silently turning to walk away step by step, gradually disappearing into the vast night.

I caressed the jade flute. Too bad I couldn’t play it—otherwise I could hear “Gentle Breeze and Moon” one last time as a final farewell.

I raised my hand, about to throw the jade flute over the cliff.

“Crack.”

I started in alarm. Naturally, that wasn’t the sound of the jade flute falling—besides, the sound came from behind. I turned to look as a black shadow emerged from the forest.

I called sternly: “Who’s there?”

“It’s me.” The black shadow moved forward, becoming a bright figure: “Sorry, I truly didn’t intend to eavesdrop on your conversation, Princess.”