At Baoquan Pavilion by the southern gate of the capital, the cheerful chatter of young ladies drifted from within.
Though Baoquan Pavilion couldn’t rival the opulence of a few renowned establishments in the city, its location outside the city gate offered spacious grounds, elegant buildings, and a tranquil garden—making it a perfect retreat to escape the summer heat.
With a flick of her fishing rod, Chen Shi’ba-niang sent the maids around her into delighted laughter.
“Another one! Another one!” they clapped and cheered.
As Chen Shi’ba-niang dropped a wriggling fish into a small porcelain basin—where two or three other fish were already swimming—Chen Dan-niang stomped her foot in frustration.
“Stop making such a racket!” she said unhappily. “You’re scaring away Lady Cheng’s fish!”
The maids covered their mouths and giggled, casting glances at Cheng Jiao-niang, who was sitting composedly nearby.
It had been her idea to go fishing, and yet half an hour had passed, and she still sat upright like a pine tree—her fishing rod hadn’t moved even once.
“Lady Cheng, why don’t we try another spot? The fish here must all be full by now,” Chen Dan-niang suggested in a quiet voice.
“No need,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
Chen Dan-niang moved from one side to the other, glancing at her own empty porcelain basin, then at the group of cheerful maids gathered around Chen Shi’ba-niang.
“But Shi’ba-niang has already caught so many,” she couldn’t help but say again.
“I didn’t come here to actually catch fish,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Chen Dan-niang frowned, confused.
“But didn’t you say you wanted to go fishing?” she asked.
Sitting nearby on a stone, Ban Qin, who had been playing with string figures, paused.
“Miss meant that it’s not about the fish—it’s about the act of fishing,” she said with a smile.
One of the maids reached out to take the string and flipped it into a flower pattern.
“Has Miss done this before?” she asked.
Ban Qin couldn’t help but laugh.
Not just that—once, she scared a young master at home so badly, he nearly died thinking he’d seen a ghost.
As they spoke, another round of cheers erupted from Chen Shi’ba-niang’s side. Chen Dan-niang, unwilling to accept defeat, stomped her foot. Then she glanced over at a nearby pavilion, where several sisters and brothers sat sipping tea.
“Sixteenth Brother!” she suddenly called out as an idea struck her.
A handsome young man in a blue robe stopped his conversation and looked over—first spotting Chen Dan-niang, then noticing Cheng Jiao-niang sitting with her back to him.
“Sixteenth Brother, come help us!” Chen Dan-niang waved her little hand and shouted.
The young man looked slightly hesitant, and the siblings beside him all laughed.
“Go on. With Lady Cheng here and even Dan-niang asking for help, it must be a real crisis,” they teased.
Only then did the young man start walking over.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, stopping a few steps away.
Chen Dan-niang ran over, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the edge of the pond.
“Sixteenth Brother, you’re great at fishing. Come help us,” she said. “The fish today are acting strange—they just won’t bite!”
The young man had no choice but to let himself be pulled along, finally coming to a stop beside Cheng Jiao-niang.
Sensing someone approach, the young woman looked up.
Under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, her large eyes sparkled like dancing rays of light.
The young man quickly averted his gaze.
“W-What help could I possibly offer?” he stammered. “There’s no secret, really—just patience, that’s all.”
Cheng Jiao-niang raised her hand and reeled in her line.
Chen Dan-niang cheered in delight, but her excitement faded the moment she saw the hook was empty. She let out a disappointed cry.
“I have patience,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “But knowing how to actually get the fish to bite? That’s where I fail.” She handed the fishing rod to the young man.
His face flushed slightly as he reached out to take it.
“There’s no real trick to it, honestly. Just bait the spot and cast the line…” he murmured, crouching to knead some bait, which he then tossed out before flicking the rod and casting the line.
Chen Dan-niang laughed with joy.
Cheng Jiao-niang watched intently as well.
She’s focused on the fishing rod, not on me—what’s there to be nervous about?
Yet the young man felt a bead of sweat forming at the tip of his nose.
He silently prayed: Bodhisattva, please help me. Please.
“Wow!”
Chen Dan-niang’s cheer rang out as Chen Shi’ba-niang looked over with a smile. She saw the young man lift his fishing rod—on the line, a large fish splashed water as it struggled.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled as well.
“As expected, you’re skilled,” she said.
The young man let out a breath of relief, his expression growing slightly more flustered.
“No, no, it’s nothing—just a minor trick, really,” he replied.
Chen Dan-niang, thrilled, urged the maids to place the fish into the porcelain basin.
“We’re amazing! We’re amazing!” she clapped her hands and shouted, proudly waving toward Chen Shi’ba-niang. “One of our fish is worth five of yours!”
“You three together are surely better than little old me,” Chen Shi’ba-niang replied with a laugh.
“Not at all—it’s this young master who’s truly skilled,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, glancing once more at the young man before her.
She had only been to the Chen household a few times, and always in the presence of the old master. She didn’t know the siblings of Chen Shi’ba-niang well and wasn’t sure how to address him.
“This is the Sixteenth Young Master, son of the Fourth Master,” the nearby maid Ling Hui explained.
Upon hearing that, the Sixteenth Young Master quickly bowed his head in greeting.
Cheng Jiao-niang returned the gesture with a polite nod.
These courtesies were nothing new to the children of the Chen family. From a young age, they were taught by their parents through words and example, and after beginning formal education, their tutors provided dedicated instruction. The study of etiquette was woven throughout their entire academic upbringing.
This is what defined the grace of a distinguished household—every gesture, every word, every interaction carried its own form of decorum. It wasn’t forced, but rather deeply ingrained in their demeanor—something not every family in the world could cultivate.
Yet this young lady, who was said to have been slow-witted since childhood, handled herself with remarkable poise. Her manners were impeccable, every word and gesture as natural and refined as those of any well-bred lady—and perhaps even more dignified.
“And the story you told at Qieting Temple, about the steles, was quite well told too,” she remarked.
Ever since her recovery, her memory had become exceptionally sharp—nearly photographic.
The visit to Qieting Temple had been accompanied by several members of the Chen family—including this very young man.
That this usually distant, quiet, and unreadable young lady actually remembered him filled the youth with joy; his face lit up.
“No, no, not at all—just a trifling skill, really,” he murmured again.
“But you know so many ‘trifling skills,’ you are truly impressive,” a maid couldn’t help but chime in with a teasing smile.
As the group on this side chatted back and forth, no longer paying attention to the fish, Chen Shi’ba-niang on the other side couldn’t help but laugh. Her gaze shifted between her own younger brother and Cheng Jiao-niang—and suddenly, her heart skipped a beat.
At that moment, it wasn’t just Chen Shi’ba-niang whose heart gave a sudden thump—on the path nearby, two of the Chen family’s sisters-in-law were approaching and happened to witness the scene as well.
Fourth Madam Chen narrowed her eyes slightly.
Seeking respite from the summer heat, the two women settled into a nearby pavilion. Only their personal maids remained close by; the rest of the attendants were dismissed to play. From their elevated position, a gentle breeze swept up from the pondside, bringing a pleasant coolness.
The boys and girls who had been fishing by the water had now dispersed, and laughter could be faintly heard drifting in from the other side of the garden.
“Sister-in-law, I’ve asked you this before—this young lady from the Cheng family, she hasn’t been promised to anyone yet, has she?” Fourth Madam Chen asked suddenly as she lightly fanned herself.
Madam Chen glanced at her.
A girl who’d spent several years in a muddled state—who would have arranged a marriage for her? Who would have dared?
She understood exactly what Fourth Madam Chen was implying.
To be honest, she felt both gratitude and tenderness toward Cheng Jiao-niang. If a woman could secure a good marriage, her life could be considered settled. When planning her own children’s futures, she, too, had thought of that girl.
She wondered what kind of plans the girl’s parents had for her future.
If she could be matched with someone familiar and trustworthy, that wouldn’t be so bad.
But still… this young lady did have some lingering concerns.
“You’re not joking?” she asked with a small laugh.
The laughter of the children drew closer, cutting their conversation short.
“Let’s talk more later,” said Fourth Madam Chen. She looked toward the approaching group of boys and girls. “Come sit and rest a while—we’ll be having our meal shortly.”
That afternoon, after bidding farewell and thanking the members of the Chen family, Cheng Jiao-niang finally returned home. No sooner had she stepped through the door than a series of knocks came from the wall next door. A moment later, a young man leaned over from the top of the wall, flashing a smile toward Cheng Jiao-niang in the courtyard.
The maid and Ban Qin had long grown used to this and continued on with their own tasks, unfazed.
“You’ve been really busy lately, haven’t you?” said Duke Jin’an with a grin. “You weren’t home several times I came by. If you hadn’t come back today, I was about to give up and leave.”
“Yes, things have been a bit hectic lately,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, looking at him. “Did you need something?”
Duke Jin’an smiled wider.
“No, not really. I just don’t know many people in this area, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. You’re the only one I know, so I thought I’d drop by and say hello,” he said. Then, as if something occurred to him, he raised an eyebrow. “Oh—don’t tell me you’ve been busy meeting suitors? Which family was it? Let me take a look for you.”
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
“No,” she said. “I’ve been busy opening shops. I’ve added two more recently.”
“Shops?” Duke Jin’an looked even more intrigued, leaning in a bit. “You know how to run a business?”
“No,” Cheng Jiao-niang answered calmly. “But I know how to find people who do.”
Duke Jin’an burst out laughing and nodded repeatedly.
“I’ve been busy too. Lately, I’ve memorized two extra scrolls,” he said, sounding rather pleased with himself.
“That’s impressive,” Cheng Jiao-niang said with a nod.
Duke Jin’an’s smile deepened.
“Since we both have something to celebrate, how about a little celebration?” he suggested.
Celebrate?
How?
The maid who had just put down some clothes looked up in curiosity.
Ban Qin and Jin Ge’er were bustling around the courtyard, chattering away as they worked.
By then, the young man had already disappeared from the top of the wall.
“Have you ever made a sky lantern before?”
The boy’s voice drifted over from the other side of the wall.
Cheng Jiao-niang paused, still holding the bamboo comb in her hand.
“I don’t quite remember, but I think I must have,” she replied.
“Because you knew how to make one, right?” the voice from the other side asked.
“Yes,” Cheng Jiao-niang answered, her hands moving smoothly again.
“I’ve never made one,” the boy said. “But I remember my mother made one for me when I was little. I was too young though, and the memory’s already fuzzy.”
“Then I guess that makes both of us,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
A light chuckle came from the other side of the wall.
“Exactly—we’re truly kindred spirits,” the boy replied.
The maid curled her lips in annoyance. Ridiculous. Who releases sky lanterns in broad daylight? That scoundrel must be out of his mind.
In the blazing afternoon sun, the street was bustling with people. A group squatting in the shade by the bridge suddenly let out a surprised sound.
“Hey, look—someone’s releasing sky lanterns over there!”
At the shout, more people turned to look and saw two swaying sky lanterns rising side by side from the courtyard of a nearby residence.
Since it was still broad daylight, the sight looked a bit strange.
“Whose mischievous kids are playing around now?”
Everyone quickly looked away—sky lanterns weren’t anything particularly rare.
Cheng Jiao-niang stood in the courtyard, head tilted back as she watched the lanterns float higher and farther away.
“Who are you making a wish for?”
The boy’s voice came from the other side of the wall.
Cheng Jiao-niang kept her gaze on the sky.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
A chuckle came from the other side.
“What a coincidence,” the boy said. “Neither do I.”
Then both sides of the wall fell into silence, and the sky lanterns drifted farther and farther away until they disappeared into the bright daylight sky.
The academy’s main gate had just opened, and the students poured out like birds released from a long confinement.
“Fourth Master, we can finally go out and take a stroll!” the young servant exclaimed joyfully, then glanced back nervously at the academy shaded by lush greenery. “Master Jiang-zhou is terrifying. Hopefully, he won’t teach like that again—locking people up for ten days or more is simply deadly.”
“How can you say that?” Cheng Si-lang glared and scolded. “That’s disrespectful to the master.”
The young servant stuck out his tongue.
“Many people would love to be locked up like that,” Cheng Si-lang said. “If it weren’t for having to go to town to buy some supplies, I wouldn’t have left the academy—I’d keep studying.”
The last sentence startled the young servant, who immediately apologized profusely and dared not say another word. He feared that if Cheng Si-lang really turned back inside, he would be utterly suffocated!
“Si-lang!”
A voice came from the roadside, carrying a familiar hometown accent. Amidst the commotion, Cheng Si-lang and his servant instinctively looked over—and were instantly stunned.
By the shade of a tree by the road stood a carriage, from which a young gentleman was just stepping down, waving a folding fan.
“I heard the capital is bustling, so why have you come to such a remote, desolate place? You’re hard to find.”
The young gentleman frowned and complained.
Cheng Si-lang looked at him in disbelief, only then coming back to his senses.
“You—you—Shi’qi, what are you doing here?” he called out.
