When she woke that morning, the sky outside was still dark. A painted pleasure-boat drifted past the river beyond the small building, its lantern-light dim and hazy. By this hour, the people aboard should already have been asleep, but listening carefully, one could still make out the faint sound of music drifting over—someone, even at this late hour, still playing the zither.
“‘Beneath the parasol tree, the rain falls at the third watch, unaware how bitter this parting sorrow is’… that’s the tune of Genglouzi. Whose boat could that be?”
There was no lamplight in the room, only the faint glow drifting in through the lattice of the window. Nie Yunzhu had already woken, dressed in a moon-white undergarment, and was about to sit up when her bedmate beside her wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back down with a thump. Jin’er nuzzled against her shoulder, burrowing in like a sleepy little piglet.
“Mm, up at the third watch and not sleeping, disturbing other people’s dreams…”
“It’ll be light soon.”
“And still not sleeping even when it’s about to get light—so you’ll definitely be dozing off during the day.” Jin’er let out a huge yawn, eyes still closed, and after a moment murmured, “‘Beneath the parasol tree, the rain falls at the third watch’… that’s clearly about autumn, forcing sorrow into a verse just to seem profound…”
Yun Zhu laughed under the covers. “It’s about the pain of parting, and here you are talking about the season instead… Maybe someone important to them has left.”
“Sister Yun Zhu, you’re the one who cares about partings these days…”
“Which is exactly why I should seize the chance to be together with him while I can.”
“Shameless, really…” Jin’er muttered. “Sister Yun Zhu, have you really thought this through? The man already has a wife. This really… won’t work.”
Similar words had already been exchanged many times over the past few months. Yun Zhu’s resolve never wavered; these days Jin’er didn’t bring it up outright, but through her actions she’d kept herself constantly wedged between Yun Zhu and Ning Yi, making sure nothing between them ever progressed. Truth be told, though, even without any real progress, the two of them seemed content enough as things were—playing the zither, singing together, gathering now and then, finding a kind of contentment in it regardless.
She understood well enough that this was simply Yun Zhu’s temperament. But in the past, even the most romantic and open-minded of men, once they’d won a woman’s heart, ultimately wanted nothing more than to formally claim her, to possess her completely. After all her years at the Jinfeng Tower, Jin’er understood this only too well. That Ning Yi remained unmoved by any of it genuinely impressed her, in spite of everything.
Word had it that after summer, Ning Yi would be traveling to Suzhou and Hangzhou with his wife, likely staying away for several months. Sensing that the days they could still spend together were growing fewer, Yun Zhu had come to treasure every opportunity to meet with him all the more. Watching this, Jin’er found herself growing increasingly troubled. Women of their station could never become the proper first wife of a man of standing—that, she could accept, call it fate if she must. But in Ning Yi’s case, Yun Zhu couldn’t even manage to become a concubine—and that, in Jin’er’s eyes, was simply going too far.
Whether as friends, as rivals, or even, back in the old days at Jinfeng Tower, as a patron who might have paid to hear her sing, in all honesty, Jin’er would have admired a man like Ning Yi regardless. But on this one matter, her better judgment told her that Yun Zhu and Ning Yi would be better off parting ways—otherwise, there was bound to be real heartbreak down the road. And so, in these early hours before dawn, she found herself unable to hold back from raising the question yet again.
Yun Zhu smiled. “In this life, finding a man you can truly entrust yourself to is already no small thing.”
“But how can you entrust yourself to someone you’ll never actually marry? Just be kept like some hidden mistress?”
“…Jin’er, let me tell you something.” Yun Zhu thought it over for a moment before speaking, then added, “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Mm.”
“I thought about this for a while myself, but then one day it occurred to me—when I’m sixty years old, an old woman, I’ll still be able to rise early in the morning, and before the sky’s even light, he’ll come strolling over from that direction, and I’ll still be here waiting for him. That, too, would be a fine thing.”
“…” Jin’er fell silent.
“I know you’ll laugh at me, that’s why I never said it before… Sometimes I even think, maybe the reason he comes by every day now to talk with me is simply because I’m still beautiful—he may not consciously think of it that way, but it’s probably part of the reason regardless. Some scholars and men of talent don’t write poetry purely to show off in front of women, but writing poetry for a beautiful woman is still more enjoyable than writing it for some old crone.”
Yun Zhu smiled. “Maybe decades from now, he won’t enjoy listening to me talk anymore, because I won’t have anything particularly interesting left to say. But for most of the time in between, I still choose to believe in him. That he wants to talk with me isn’t only because I’m beautiful. Jin’er, I’ve always felt that if a woman is only liked for her looks, then once she’s no longer beautiful, being cast aside would only be natural, wouldn’t it? There has to be something else. Just like how when Liheng argues with you, it’s probably not because he thinks you’re pretty, but because he finds you genuinely interesting… I suppose I must have other things about me worth liking too.”
“Of course you do!” Jin’er said. “Though don’t drag me into this, honestly—I find him completely uninteresting. Stinking man!”
“If it can last ten years, then naturally the feelings built up can carry through to twenty, then thirty, forty—maybe by then, him passing by here every day to talk with me will have become something neither of us can simply let go of. Jin’er, I think, since I can have some confidence in myself, and I know Liheng is different from other men, then going forward I suppose I can hold onto that confidence too. And if even that isn’t enough… well, then I suppose I’ll just have to say it was my hard luck. But I’ve only ever wanted to give myself to this one man—what else is there to be done about it?”
Jin’er fell silent for a long moment, then pulled Yun Zhu closer in a tighter embrace. Both of them were women, after all, and sharing a bed, holding each other close, was hardly unusual between them—but this particular embrace felt somehow different, though Yun Zhu couldn’t quite place what exactly had changed. A moment later, Jin’er mumbled, “Then give it to me instead…”
“Ha, Jin’er, you’ll find your own man to entrust yourself to someday too.”
“No, I want to stay with Sister Yun Zhu. When that Ning Yi eventually turns out to be a heartless man, we’ll just grow old together as two old women instead.”
“I don’t want to be treated heartlessly, thank you very much. And Jin’er, you’ve just never met someone you actually like…”
“I have.”
“Hm?”
“I told you about him before—a few years back, there was a boy who came from Bianjing, so beautiful he looked almost like a girl, though I’m quite sure he wasn’t one, mm, I liked him back then… but I’d still rather stay with Sister Yun Zhu.”
Yun Zhu narrowed her eyes at her, exasperated. “…I’m truly moved.”
“Mm, Sister Yun Zhu, the way you’re talking right now sounds exactly like that infuriating Ning Yi… but I still won’t let the two of you end up together…”
…
As on so many mornings before, after chatting a while in bed, Yun Zhu was still the first to rise. By now the lamps in the sitting room had already been lit; Jin’er’s maid Kou’er had adjusted to her mistresses’ schedule and always rose earlier than either of them, heating water for washing and waiting for Yun Zhu to get up.
Dressed in her usual understated skirts, having done herself up a little, Yun Zhu blew out the lamp and made her way out to the sitting room.
While waiting for Ning Yi to arrive, she’d carefully brew a pot of tea, and in the meantime might read a bit, or study over some sheet music. Just as she’d said, what made her worth loving wasn’t only her beauty.
In her days at the pleasure house, cultivating and dabbling in all manner of accomplishments had been about winning the favor of many different men. Now, her pursuits served a different purpose—narrowing from many people down to just the one. Even before Ning Yi had come into her life, Yun Zhu had already had these solitary pastimes of her own, but these days, beyond her own interests, she no doubt spent even more time pondering what exactly Ning Yi himself might enjoy. It wasn’t calculating, exactly, but Jin’er knew well enough that this was simply how deeply Yun Zhu cared for that man.
The young woman lay wrapped in the warm blankets, enveloped in a pleasant warmth. Some of that warmth came from the bedding itself, some from the lingering heat of Yun Zhu’s body beside her, but part of it was emotional too, lingering from what Yun Zhu had just said. She felt her body and mind both completely at ease, and yet somehow couldn’t fall asleep.
She realized she’d fallen for Yun Zhu.
She’d always liked her, of course. Yun Zhu was remarkable—back at Jinfeng Tower, even before she’d opened her own shop, Jin’er had already thought Yun Zhu was remarkable. To be able, without the slightest hesitation, to buy out her own freedom, sever all ties to her old life—a woman like that truly was something. Later, Jin’er had followed her into the business of selling preserved eggs, of course partly because it turned out to be quite profitable too. She wasn’t as strong as Yun Zhu; in everything she did, she always had to weigh the practical realities. But Yun Zhu was truly formidable—even though Madam Yang and the others always said she was strange, Jin’er felt she was like the sun itself; if she could just stay close to her, maybe she too could become something close to that formidable, could reach somewhere truly remarkable.
She’d always liked Yun Zhu—that much was beyond question. But after hearing her say all this just now, she felt she liked her even more, in a way that felt different from before—more personal, more intimate. Listening to her speak of her feelings for another man, she found herself, strangely, still feeling that same warmth inside. By rights, she should have been angry at Yun Zhu’s “lack of self-regard”—but instead, at this moment, all she felt was that she liked her even more.
She still couldn’t quite untangle what this feeling really was, but wrapped in this warmth, she’d already made up her mind. Whatever came of things between Yun Zhu and that scoundrel Ning Yi, it was clearly bound for no real resolution—but even so, it didn’t matter. She would give her own feelings to Yun Zhu regardless.
Outside, Yun Zhu had no idea what decision Jin’er had just come to inside the room. Guessing that the time was about right, that Ning Yi might already be up, she sat for a while on the steps. Her moon-white robes looked especially elegant in the warm golden lamplight, her long hem draping over her embroidered slippers; every so often she’d glance down the road, and from a distance she looked, in that moment, rather like some immortal fairy who’d descended from the heavens by mistake. Ever since she’d met Ning Yi, meeting him every day like this, her manner of dress had remained much the same as always—but in truth, she put considerably more thought into her appearance now than she once had. The change wasn’t dramatic, only a little more careful attention than before.
Without warning, something fell upon the back of her hand, cool and damp. She lifted her hand to look, then raised her head.
“It’s raining…”
Fine threads of rain began drifting down from the sky. Around the Qingming Festival, this was, after all, typically a season of drizzling rain—nothing especially unusual about it. But with only a month left before summer arrived, one rainy morning meant one less chance to see Ning Yi—and thinking of it that way, she couldn’t help but feel a small pang of disappointment…
Before long, Jin’er woke up too, and glancing out at the falling rain, she too looked rather disappointed. “Hm? Guess that guy can’t come today then… I actually had a few things I wanted to talk to him about.”
Spring rains, once they started, tended to linger for quite a while, but fortunately this particular rain cleared up by afternoon. The next morning, Jin’er rose along with Yun Zhu, waiting for Ning Yi to arrive so she could have her say. In her own mind, of course, this was to be a proper negotiation.