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[Part 2·Falling Wind and Water]
“Thirteen Master Bai, the Spring Lady does not entertain guests from Jinling.”
“Jinling... guests?”
After leaving Jinling, Ye Liuchun brought her registration papers to the Music Bureau in Bianjing. Initially dismissive, the madam overseeing it changed her tune on the day of the division ceremony. Following the others, Ye Liuchun played a piece with lowered eyes and an unassuming demeanor.
The crowd at the Music Bureau was astounded, their attitude toward her shifting dramatically.
In Bianjing, performers held higher status than in smaller towns. The madam mentioned that talents like hers were rare, emerging perhaps only once every few decades.
Great effort was spent grooming her manners, expressions, and every gesture.
She was to be enchanting but not frivolous; beautiful yet refined.
She needed to be perceptive, quick to read people’s intentions with just a glance.
Ye Liuchun often thought of Bai Shating’s expression when he looked at her.
She mimicked his mannerisms effortlessly, realizing she had a natural talent for it.
Six months later, she made her debut at a farewell banquet for a high-ranking official. A single performance of Breaking the Ranks catapulted her to fame.
Nine months later, she earned praise from Gao Ze, becoming a sought-after guest at banquets hosted by senior officials in Bianjing.
A year later, on a pleasure boat along the Bian River, gifts of gold, silver, and jewelry thrown by noble youths nearly sank the small vessel. Flowers piled high atop the boat.
No one objected as she became Bianjing’s most renowned courtesan—its undisputed top entertainer, commanding astronomical fees. Scholars vied to escort her, riding through the streets in grandeur.
Two young attendants followed closely, scattering pale pink petals into the air.
A year and a half later, gaining the trust of the establishment, she purchased a pavilion on the other side of Fanlou by the Bian River. She personally inscribed the plaque: “Spring Wind Melts Rain Pavilion.”
On the opening day, Zhou Tan secretly came with his two younger brothers to toast her. During the feast, he hesitated several times before speaking. Amused, Ye Liuchun prompted him: “Young Master Zhou, what is it you wish to say?”
Clinking glasses with her, Zhou Tan sighed: “I always thought Thirteen would find a way to free you from your status.”
Thirteen…
It had been so long since she’d heard his name.
But she quickly masked her emotions, pretending to ponder deeply before feigning sudden realization: “Thirteen… Young Master Zhou means the Thirteen Master Bai from Jinling? Our acquaintance wasn’t deep back then—it wouldn’t have been worth troubling him. I am doing well now. Both you and Thirteen Master Bai are my benefactors.”
She downed her wine in one gulp, the liquid burning its way down her throat.
Zhou Tan swirled his cup, lost in thought: “Do you know… he’s coming to Bianjing?”
________________________________________
Ye Liuchun snapped out of her reverie as a flirtatious voice sounded beyond the screen: “The lady refuses visitors from Jinling, but surely old acquaintances… must still be welcomed?”
The maid hesitated, unsure how to respond.
Reclining on the couch, Ye Liuchun slowly unfolded the floral note handed to her by the attendant.
The handwriting was familiar, bold and unrestrained.
He had written her a new poem.
“Still remember Little Leaf turning in the spring breeze, secretly shedding tears that day upon meeting.”
“...Past matters clearly hold resentment.”
They had met at the Spring Wind Ferry in Jinling. Back then, she had no name, and Bai Shating called her “Little Leaf.”
The wind on the river had been strong. She recalled rubbing her eyes as she disembarked, shedding a single tear. She had forgotten, but he remembered.
Yet she was no longer the helpless girl who could only cry pitifully.
And those memories that once tormented her sleepless nights were reduced to a mere, fleeting line in his pen: “Past matters clearly hold resentment.”
Ye Liuchun let out a cold laugh.
“Regard me as fickle, yet love remains unresolved. Ten years like a dream... impossible to rely on.”
When the Spring Wind Melts Rain Pavilion opened, Zhou Tan had not yet taken the imperial exams.
He mentioned that Bai Shating had arrived in Bianjing under the pretext of preparing for the exams and searching for his missing elder brother, Eleven. Before leaving, he had quarreled fiercely with his family.
The Bai family cut off his allowance.
Thus, upon arriving in Bianjing, Bai Shating began frequenting brothels, earning a living by composing verses for courtesans.
With his handsome face and honeyed words, even if the women didn’t understand his poetry, it didn’t stop him from thriving in the pleasure quarters.
Later, a drunken verse of his leaked out.
Scholars unaware praised his talent.
As Bai Shating’s poems were set to music and sung throughout Fanlou, Ye Liuchun was accompanying Prince Song at a banquet.
Once unthinkable, she now found herself performing for legendary figures. After growing accustomed, she realized they were just ordinary men beneath the rumors.
Prince Song enjoyed her lute. Dismissing his attendants, he leaned against the railing on the top floor of Fanlou, dozing off. When her piece ended, he chuckled softly.
“Spring Maiden, you were absent-minded today… You missed two notes.”
Without haste or panic, Ye Liuchun bowed with her lute, having mastered these deceptive games.
“Your Highness jests. Just now… I heard an old acquaintance’s new verse.”
Prince Song, with many informants in Bianjing, merely raised an eyebrow in surprise: “Oh? That Thirteen Master Bai from Jinling—an old acquaintance of yours, Spring Maiden?”
Casually plucking the strings, she half-joked: “He did me some kindness. Your Highness, should you meet him, please look after him for my sake.”
Prince Song laughed heartily: “I’ve heard this Thirteen Master Bai is the most flirtatious and sought-after man. He has countless admirers. Without property in Bianjing, he lives directly amidst the pleasures. Spring Maiden, you are now the undisputed top courtesan of Bianjing. Asking for his favor on his behalf—yet why hasn’t he come to see you?”
Ye Liuchun adjusted her lute, plucking a string with a faint smile. “He will come.”
To be honest, more than a year had passed since Bai Shating arrived in Bianjing. All they knew of each other were rumors.
Rumors depicted her as the unrivaled songstress of the Bian River, youthful, enchanting, and alluring. Though countless beauties in Bianjing surpassed her in appearance, scholars and nobles flocked to her performances. She founded the Spring Wind Melts Rain Pavilion, where every maiden under her tutelage excelled. Soon, she would become known as a “great master” in her own right.
Rumors painted Bai Shating as a prodigal son of a prestigious family, infamous for his exploits in brothels. Yet his poetic talent was undeniable—even the most upright officials couldn’t help but admire his skill.
These rumored figures seemed distant, unfamiliar—as though they had never met.
Ye Liuchun couldn’t understand why Bai Shating had become this way. In her memory, despite his youthful indulgences, he was fundamentally a disciplined scion of a strict household, full of ambition like any scholar.
He should have grown tired of playing around, settling down to take the imperial exams, marry, and start a family. He should have followed his ancestors’ path, serving the people and fulfilling the aspirations he once whispered to her in embrace.
But his current behavior was far removed from that image.
Ye Liuchun knew Bai Shating would eventually seek her out.
She just didn’t expect him to write such a poem.
Fickle… He had lingered in pleasure quarters for so long, making countless vows to women he likely forgot moments later. At least he acknowledged his fickleness.
How could a fickle man struggle with unresolved feelings?
Their years of acquaintance felt like a mirage. In her dreams, she envisioned happy endings—him earnestly planning their future, giving her a proper title. She waited by the window for his return, embracing him tightly, refusing to let go.
They lived ten passionate years together. By the end, she grew old and faded, while he pursued new loves, ignoring her as he passed her window with a teenage beauty.
She found a short blade but decided bloodshed was too shocking. Instead, she hired a flower boat on the Qinhuai River, rowed to the center, and leapt into the water, ending her life.
For her, this was a beautiful dream.
Ten years like a dream… impossible to rely on, indeed!
Ye Liuchun stared at the floral note, finally feeling something stir within her. Since leaving Jinling, she had doubted whether she was already dead. How else could she feel so dried up, unable to summon even a ripple of emotion?
The last line, Bai Shating had paused his brush.
It seemed playful, perhaps teasing.
—Why must a beauty have a thousand charming faces?
Those youthful, flowery dreams of love were deep scars for her but as light as a feather to him. Knowing her feelings, he casually plucked these emotions, weaving them into words to mock her “refusal of Jinling guests” with thinly veiled irony.
If this had happened three years ago, seeing this note, Ye Liuchun might have reacted as he hoped—heartbroken, then banishing him from the Spring Wind Melts Rain Pavilion forever.
He would have been satisfied to know she still harbored lingering affection, that his reckless probing had deeply affected her.
The famed Spring Maiden of Bianjing would become fodder for his next poem about shattered hearts.
Indeed, quite worthy of boasting.
Ye Liuchun’s hand slowly loosened.
She sipped the Snow Peak tea beside her. The maid had forgotten to add honey today, making it bitterly astringent, yet her face betrayed nothing.
Setting down the teacup, she cleared her throat and spoke gently to the maid: “It is indeed an old acquaintance. Invite Thirteen Master Bai in.”
When Bai Shating entered, he saw Ye Liuchun behind the pearl curtain, polishing her moon lute.
Hearing footsteps, she didn’t turn around. Leisurely placing the lute aside, she turned gracefully, bowing elegantly.
“Liuchun greets Thirteen Master Bai.”
The room was perfumed with Princess Xinyang’s plum blossom incense, intoxicatingly sweet.
Bai Shating remembered long ago, they had discovered this fragrance recipe together in ancient texts, vowing to collect snow and plum blossoms someday.
But winter hadn’t come when she left.
He sneered, tapping his folding fan: “Years apart, Liuchun, have you been well?”
Ye Liuchun parted the pearl curtain, walking toward him.
Bai Shating gazed at her towering hairdo, momentarily dazed.
For some reason, he vividly recalled a night on the Qinhuai River—after kissing her, the disheveled maiden played a seductive tune.
The moonlight was cold, breathtakingly beautiful.
The plum blossom scent approached, shattering his reverie.
Ye Liuchun sidestepped, sitting on his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed a casual kiss on his cheek: “Yes, very well. Thirteen Master Bai, how about you? Have you… thought of me?”
Her fingers trailed down his chest, lightly tapping twice.
His mouth went dry.
He hadn’t expected such a reaction.
This wasn’t reminiscing—it was entertaining.
Truly a thousand charming faces.
“Master Bai seeks me today,” Ye Liuchun teased, swaying slightly—a common flirtation in the pleasure quarters—”—to listen to my lute?”
Bai Shating’s lashes fluttered as he replied: “Yes, meeting you isn’t easy, nor is hearing a piece… I hear Spring Maiden allows only one intimate guest per month?”
Ye Liuchun rose to fetch her lute, offering no response. She picked up a jade plectrum, idly playing a tune for him.
Her fingers barely touched the strings, seemingly disdainful.
After finishing, she leaned closer with the lute: “You’ve heard the music, drunk the tea, seen the old acquaintance, revisited old feelings… No need to dwell further, Thirteen Master Bai. If you have no other business, please leave early.”
She kissed his cheek again, turning to leave. Bai Shating reached out, grabbing the lover’s knot tied to her lute.
Ye Liuchun trembled, not daring to look back.
She didn’t know if he recognized the knot, only hearing him pause, then chuckle confidently.
Ridiculous, truly ridiculous… She had concealed herself so well, yet exposed herself because of this lover’s knot.
Bai Shating tugged the knot, pulling her back naturally, wrapping his arms around her waist. Burying his face, he deeply inhaled her scent.
His voice low, almost petulant: “I have nowhere else to go. Coming here today, I seek shelter from Spring Maiden… Please take me in.”
Ye Liuchun’s eyelashes quivered. After a long silence, she simply said: “Thirteen Master Bai must think carefully. If you stay in the Spring Wind Melts Rain Pavilion… you cannot stay elsewhere.”
Recalling his past demeanor, she turned, brushing his shoulder lightly, blowing a breath.
“Mistress, too, can find dirtiness repulsive.”
Bai Shating laughed loudly: “Mutual, mutual.”
And so, he stayed.
Before long, word spread among Bianjing’s courtesans—the brilliant Thirteen Master Bai had become Spring Maiden’s exclusive guest, unwilling to compose poems for others.
At first, there were protests. Whatever method Ye Liuchun used, whenever Bai Shating woke disheveled, opening the top-floor door, he always found women with red eyes addressing Ye Liuchun plaintively: “Sister Spring…”
Ye Liuchun consoled them, glancing at him with her fan. Her beautiful eyes revealed no emotion—mockery or pity, impossible to tell.
Definitely not anger—he had seen her enraged.
Though initially humble and withdrawn, resembling an unopened plant, he could immediately discern her underlying pride and disdain.
Beneath her false smiles lay arrogance, confidence, and refusal to yield.
Sadly, it took him a long time to realize this.
Though the Bai family pitied his misfortune, they eventually entrusted their cousin Zhou Tan, an official in Bianjing, to keep an eye on him. Zhou Tan tracked his actions meticulously.
One day, witnessing Ye Liuchun writing a letter, he grew angry, arguing with her.
Coincidentally, Zhou Yang arrived.
Zhou Tan rarely inquired about his affairs; their interactions were sparse. Zhou Yang, however, was different. Having heard bits about him and Ye Liuchun, he confronted Bai Shating upon seeing his attitude.
Bai Shating taunted Zhou Yang with a wine jug: “That’s your own brother. Why care about reputation or rumors? How has he treated you all these years? What’s there to be angry about? You’re too hung up, too fixated. As long as there’s sincerity…”
Zhou Yang lunged, punching him in the face.
They fought in the busiest part of the Bian River, quickly drawing the attention of the Crime Investigation Department. Upon hearing the news, Ye Liuchun rushed to visit him.
Rarely had Bai Shating seen her like this—her hair slightly undone, her usually impeccable expression replaced by a flustered, moving beauty.
Through the bars of the investigation office, Ye Liuchun asked if he needed medicine. On impulse, he grabbed her hand through the gap.
Recognizing him, the guards fetched paper and ink as requested. With poor-quality ink unavailable, they provided a box of vermilion seal paste. Dipping his brush, he wrote two lines of poetry on her pristine forearm.
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