FYM - 66

It was already between the hours of You and Xu.

She knew she shouldn’t go out to see him. How could a well-bred lady meet with a man late at night? Not to mention, she had just been reprimanded by her grandmother and would face further questioning tomorrow. She silently repeated admonishments a hundred, a thousand times, but before she could fully gather her wits, she found herself running toward the gates of the residence, uncaring of propriety. Never had she felt so overjoyed and eager, as though seeing him again would justify abandoning everything like a moth drawn to flame.

… And indeed, he was waiting for her outside.

The bright moon hung in the sky, casting its light upon the returning clouds. The noble and handsome man stood tall beneath the eaves of Jiangnan, his figure slightly shadowed by the gently swaying lanterns in the night breeze. The moonlight softened the edges of his silhouette, yet the look in his eyes as he gazed at her was deep and intense, as if he had waited for her endlessly and would continue to do so in silence.

For some inexplicable reason, her nose began to sting. These mere two days of separation had already felt interminable. As she ran toward him, her thoughts scattered, and in her recklessness, she flung herself straight into his arms. He, of course, caught her securely, his broad embrace comforting and reassuring. Yet his clothes carried the chill of the night wind, evidence that he had likely been waiting for some time.

“Fang Yi Zhi…”

She called his name, her voice hoarse, as if she had suffered an unbearable injustice.

“What is it?”

His palm had grown warm. One hand remained tightly wrapped around her lower back, while the other gently stroked her soft hair. His voice, too, was low and slightly hoarse, yet restrained as he asked, “… Did something go wrong during your talk with Mother today?”

He probably hadn’t had time to visit Lady Jiang yet and had rushed to see her immediately after finishing his official duties. Her heart warmed, then began to burn faintly. Silently, she shook her head within his embrace, her arms tightening around his waist.

“No…” She felt herself becoming more unlike herself. “… I just missed you so much.”

So, so much.

At that moment, his breathing seemed to grow heavier. Even the slightest change in him sent her world spinning. How much more when he lowered his head and gently cupped her face, close enough to kiss her deeply.

“I’m sorry…” His apology was tender and lingering. “… I was delayed by some matters.”

She resented his excessive restraint; only a real kiss could truly satisfy her. But he didn’t know her heart’s desire. Instead, he reached into his sleeve and handed her something else. Though she felt a flicker of dissatisfaction, she still slowly extended her hand to take it, her voice lilting as she asked, “What is this…?”

His eyes were mesmerizing pools of water, the small mole at the corner of his right eye like a bubbling spring. When he smiled, his charm was limitless, as if casting a spell. He coaxed her: “A gift for you—go on, open it.”

Today, she had already received several gifts from his family, each one astonishingly valuable. But this one, coming from his hands, looked the most ordinary, contained in a simple brocade pouch. At first glance, it was hard to tell what it was.

As she watched him, she slowly untied the string. In no time, the object inside floated lightly into her palm—a meticulously mounted scroll. Unrolling it carefully, she saw… a copy of the second volume of The Ode to the Luo River Goddess .

She had once received the first volume of this painting, gifted to her by her second brother in Chang’an last year. But the second volume was exceedingly rare, even among reproductions. Yet here it was, delivered into her hands by him. Gu Kaizhi’s masterful brushwork captured both form and spirit. On the scroll, the mortal and the divine parted ways with regret. The Luo River goddess ascended to the heavens in her cloud chariot, surrounded by six dragons and whales, while every intricate detail of the cloud patterns was exquisitely rendered. Cao Zijian stood on the shore, watching the goddess depart, their gazes locked across an unreachable distance.

… Truly a masterpiece beyond compare.

She was utterly amazed, caressing the surface of the paper with her fingers, unable to let go. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were exceptionally bright, clearer than the crescent moon hanging high in the sky.

“Do you like it?”

True to form, he asked, as if her single word of affirmation held the value of a priceless treasure.

“Why are you giving me another gift…” She didn’t answer directly, her expression radiating an innate allure. “… Is this finally a proper betrothal gift?”

Each word dripped with honey, her smile sweet and enchanting. To him, it tugged at his heartstrings, though his gaze dimmed slightly as he replied, “… It’s a birthday gift.”

He remembered—February 8th, her birthday.

She froze, suddenly sensing a hint of foreboding. Her birthday was just two days away—why did he insist on giving it to her early?

“You’re leaving?”

Clever as she was, she quickly pieced it together. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head, extinguishing the warmth in her heart. She suddenly felt a chill.

“… Are you leaving Jiangnan?”

He had already noticed the change in her expression. The charming smile that had captivated him faded, like a flower wilting under the cold wind. He reached out gently to catch her, determined not to let her be tainted by even a speck of mud.

“There have been changes in the Central Plains—war is imminent,” his voice was extremely low, the playful charm in his eyes replaced by solemnity. “The Emperor has summoned me back to court. Shortly… I will depart northward.”

He spoke simply and matter-of-factly, his tone calm and detached. Yet to her, his words struck like thunder on a clear day, especially the phrase “shortly”—did it mean he couldn’t even wait a single night?

“So soon…” She was beginning to panic, her hand clutching his robe unconsciously tightening. “And… and Mother…”

“I’ve already sent someone to escort Mother to the ferry,” he replied quickly, the urgency of departure evident in his tone. “Afterward, I’ll first send her back to Yingchuan, then return to Chang’an.”

Ah…

She didn’t know what to say or how to find an excuse to keep him by her side for even a little longer. Her obvious distress was heartbreaking, and his voice softened to an indescribable tenderness as he spoke to her.

“I will personally write to Song Gong to explain our engagement—I will not break my promise to you…” He spoke gravely, his fingers still gently caressing her cheek. “The rebel king has fled to Longyou, causing unrest along the borders… Shu Yan, I must go.”

He didn’t need to explain so much to her.

She already understood. The Western escape of Prince Qin had left behind countless troubles. The Fang family of Yingchuan, as the nation’s sword and shield, would undoubtedly lead troops to quell the chaos. His return north was inevitable. Besides, even without this war, he couldn’t possibly spend his days idly with her in Qiantang.

But…

“But that’s the battlefield…”

Her voice trembled, her once rosy complexion now deathly pale.

“You…”

… You might get hurt.

Or worse, you might…

Her heart pounded like thunder, yet she dared not even think the word in her mind. He misunderstood her concern, thinking she feared he might delay their marriage by staying away too long. So he reassured her: “I will return as soon as possible—if the war goes smoothly, perhaps I can return to court in half a year…”

She shook her head desperately. At that moment, tears spilled from her eyes, and in her anguish, she clung to him tightly, longing to depend on him for life.

“I don’t care about those things…” Hot tears fell onto his chest, burning him with their intensity. “I’m only afraid you’ll get hurt…”

Generals die in hundreds of battles, and valiant warriors return after ten years. How many of the Fang family’s ancestors had perished on the battlefield, their bodies wrapped in horse hides? Would he suffer the same fate…

Only then did he understand her meaning. Out of her sight, his gaze softened even more. The people of the Fang family were adept at farewells. His father had faced life and death without shedding a tear or showing weakness. How could he allow himself to be indecisive and cause the woman he loved to worry?

“I will definitely return safely…”

He whispered softly in her ear, brushing a fleeting kiss against her earlobe.

“After a great victory, the Emperor will surely be pleased. Perhaps he will personally preside over our wedding. I will come to fetch you, to bring you back to Yingchuan, to Chang’an. My mother has been ill recently and cannot manage the household affairs, so things may be somewhat disordered. When you arrive, you can arrange and decorate as you wish. We will live happily…”

These were soothing words, coinciding with the dreams she had indulged in during her cousin’s wedding feast. It seemed he, too, had envisioned their future together. Life was difficult and long, but with him by her side, it felt infinitely desirable.

“During the time I’m away, remember to take care of yourself…”

He kissed her forehead lightly, gently wiping away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Stay in Qiantang or return to Jinling—it’s all up to you. Will your stepmother and third sister bully you? Shall I leave a few people to protect you?”

They had never discussed her situation in the Song family before. Unexpectedly, he had already seen through her circumstances clearly. Her heart felt comforted, and she managed a smile through her tears, lightly hitting him in mock annoyance. “They only bully me because of you—pretending to be kind…”

This remark made his heart soften and his lips curve into a smile, though the hidden reluctance in his eyes grew stronger. He pulled her closer, saying, “If you do return, however, I have another gift to give you.”

She raised an eyebrow, instinctively asking, “What is it?” Then her heart sank again, and she said despondently, “Another birthday gift? For next year?”

Are you saying… you won’t be able to celebrate with me next year either?

He knew she was still grieving, and his heart filled with even more affection. Patiently, he coaxed her: “Let’s call it a belated gift for last year, alright? Smile for me?”

She pouted, wanting to cry but holding it back. Finally, she asked, “What’s so special about this gift that you insist I return to Jinling to receive it?”

He smiled faintly, reaching out to flick her nose teasingly. “Do you know of a painter in Jinling named Zhang Jian?”

Zhang Jian?

Of course, she knew of him—the foremost painter in Jiangnan, who had once served in the imperial academy. A free-spirited man, he reportedly resigned early due to his disdain for the rigid rules of the palace. Since then, he had wandered the famous mountains and rivers, elusive as a dragon glimpsed only fleetingly.

“Your second brother mentioned that you’ve always loved painting, but never found a suitable teacher,” his gaze was deeper than the spring night, warmer than the moonlight. “Zhang Jian has some ties with the Fang family. I can ask him to teach you at the Song residence.”

…

She didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t just the joy of finding a mentor she had never dared to hope for—it was the earnestness and thoughtfulness of the man before her that moved her. She wasn’t particularly precious in her father’s eyes, merely an insignificant daughter. To her stepmother and sisters, she was detestable and annoying. Yet he treated her like a treasured pearl, paying meticulous attention to even the smallest details about her.

“Third Brother…”

Tears welled up in her eyes again. She couldn’t believe that in these few short days of solitude, he had taught her how to cry. Like vines, her arms wrapped around her lover’s neck. The tall man had to bend down for her to meet his gaze.

She was already lost in the gentle waves of his affection, and the teardrop-like mole at the corner of his eye drove her mad with longing. She had no idea how she would endure the separation ahead, for even these two days apart had left her flustered and helpless. Gently, under his watchful gaze, she kissed the corner of his eye. At that moment, she felt herself consumed entirely, like a moth whose charred remains fell like petals, leaving behind only the scorching heat of a blazing fire.

“Then I’ll wait for you to return…”

She struggled to suppress the urge to kiss him at that moment, not knowing what circumstances would bring them together again. Time was cruel, and fate merciless. Even the next embrace as sorrowful as this one might only come after countless painful mornings and nights.

“I’ll wait for you to return and take me to Yingchuan, to Chang’an. I’ll wait for the grand gathering of guests and the formal rites you promised.”

“But honestly, none of that is necessary…” She sighed again, her melancholy outweighing the sweetness. “… Just come back to me sooner—that’s all that matters.”