No. I met him first.
No – she was saying “no” again.
“No, he never said those things.”
“There’s no need to resolve anything. This isn’t a problem – he and I have already reached an agreement.”
“No, I met him first.”
From beginning to end, all the way through, she kept denying him – She was… acknowledging him.
She was acknowledging him.
Qin Hu looked at the girl still sitting upright before him. This hall was Cheng Jiao-niang’s own hall – smaller than the main hall outside. Even though First Master Cheng and Second Master Cheng had returned to Jiang-zhou, the rule-abiding Cheng Jiao-niang would not make use of the spacious main hall meant for the head of the household.
The narrow space was only a single step across, yet as he looked down from his higher vantage point, the woman in his sight seemed to grow farther and farther away.
She had never been close. Not once. Never.
Qin Hu laughed.
“So that’s how it is,” he said with a laugh. “I had no idea. Must have made you laugh at me.”
“It’s perfectly normal you didn’t know. Nothing funny about it,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
But Qin Hu still laughed.
How could it not be funny? It was quite funny.
He lifted his head and looked at the summer scene beyond the doorway, and in his ears he seemed to hear the woman’s laughter again.
“…Truly, truly, Young Master Qin, that’s just how things are in our young mistress’s household…”
“…That fool – that name was given by our old madam. She’s called Jiao-niang… Jiao- niang…”
Jiao-niang – the Jiao-niang who returned alone from Bing-zhou to Jiang-zhou.
He reached out his hand and drew a line across the chessboard.
What kind of Jiao-niang was she?
“The one who sent back the notebook Ban Qin had used, and even gave the new maid the name ‘Ban Qin.’”
He looked at the lotus blossoms filling the pond and laughed.
Jiao-niang – such a petty and grudge-holding Jiao-niang.
“My lady, that person who takes off all his clothes is here again.”
He lifted his head and, through the swirling white snow-mist, looked at the girl in her long dark robe and wide sleeves, her black hair hanging down.
The Jiao-niang who was abandoned by the temple for nearly ten years and then traveled a thousand miles alone to return; the one who laughed at my foolishness before others, who brewed new wine with her fair hands; the one who scorned fine tea and delicate food, letting you come and go as you wished, never trying to keep you;
Ah, that Jiao-niang unseen and unknown by others – that Jiao-niang who would have you die first and come back to life again.
“No – I met him first.”
Qin Hu looked at her, shook his head, shook it again, then let out a faint, incredulous laugh.
How could that be?
No… maybe… perhaps… once, long ago…
Back then, she had finally agreed to treat his leg, telling him to do this and that. He’d been a little happy, a little anxious. Later he learned she had only been treating his illness – nothing more. Thinking back, that was actually the time she spoke to him the most of her own accord… a time that would never come again…
Qin Hu shook his head. It was then – during that time – she said she wanted to taste the tea from Puxiu Temple. So he had used a chess game to coax a tea plant out of Master Minghai.
That tea plant was now thriving in the little house by Yudai Bridge. It was probably the only gift he ever truly gave her.
That time – yes, that time.
When he brought the tea plant in, he saw the tea set laid out in front of her, and on the other side of the table, a meditation cushion clearly meant for a guest.
Back then, the number of people she knew in the capital could be counted on one hand, and there was certainly no one who could sit with her like that, sharing tea face-to-face.
So… that guest… was Duke Jin’an…
“My lady, were you drinking tea just now?”
He probed indirectly.
“What tea is this?”
“It’s not tea you drink. If you have nothing else, please leave.”
Qin Hu laughed.
So back then – when he couldn’t even sit in front of her – that man was already able to sit before her and drink tea she had personally prepared.
First come, first served. First to arrive, first to matter. He was the one who came later. What was there to compare? How could he compare? How could he ever hope to compare?
How ridiculous. Truly ridiculous.
“Lady Cheng, in that case, I will take my leave,” he said, raising his hand and bowing.
Cheng Jiao-niang stood and returned the bow.
“If there’s anything you need me to do, just say the word,” Qin Hu said with another smile. “After all, preparing for a wedding must keep you quite busy, right?”
As he said this, he smiled at the two maids.
“Ban Qin has gone off to help already – do you still have enough maids? Should I have my mother select a few for you?”
“No need, I’m not busy. Thank you,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, bowing once more.
“That’s true – weddings are a family matter,” Qin Hu said with a smile, nodding. He glanced at Zhou Fu beside him. “Your cousin’s whole family is here. Plenty of people at home – you’ll surely handle everything perfectly.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded. “Yes.”
“Then, I’ll take my leave,” Qin Hu said, looking at her.
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed again.
Qin Hu turned around, lifted his foot to leave, took a step – and suddenly stopped. Something seemed to occur to him, and he turned back.
“Hey,” he said with a smile, holding out his hand toward Cheng Jiao-niang. “You haven’t given me any refreshments yet.”
Refreshments?
Zhou Fu looked at him.
“All right,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. As expected, she instructed the maids to pack a small box of pastries and candied fruits.
“I’m off,” Qin Hu said, taking the box from the maid and giving her a smile.
This time, he turned and walked out of the hall. At first his steps were slow, but gradually he walked faster and faster, and in a few strides he rounded the screen wall and disappeared from sight.
Zhou Fu stood in the hall, watching until Qin Hu could no longer be seen, a little bewildered.
He left? Just like that?
He then turned to look at Cheng Jiao-niang. Sensing his gaze, Cheng Jiao-niang looked back at him.
Those dark, luminous eyes – calm on the surface, yet unfathomably deep…
Zhou Fu abruptly averted his eyes and strode away.
“Sixth Young Master, take care.”
The gatekeepers and attendants who had been chatting straightened at once when they saw him and saluted.
Zhou Fu ignored them and ran out the door. Qin Hu’s horse was no longer at the entrance. He looked left and right, then spotted a figure striding quickly down the street, with a horse trotting after him.
“Shi’san!” he called.
Qin Hu did not turn back, as if he hadn’t heard.
His hands were held around something in front of him, making his already slender figure look even thinner – almost… desolate.
Held around something?
He was hugging that box of pastries.
“Shi’san, Shi’san!”
Zhou Fu caught up, surprised at how fast the fellow was walking – he had to run several quick steps to reach him. He grabbed Qin Hu’s shoulder, and the force of Qin Hu’s forward stride pulled him along for two extra steps.
“What are you doing?” Qin Hu frowned at him, held in place.
Zhou Fu opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say.
He truly had no idea what to say – his mind was completely blank, utterly empty.
“You didn’t ask for any pastries,” Qin Hu said with a laugh, shifting the box to one side and blocking Zhou Fu with his arm. “Don’t even think about stealing mine. If you want some, go ask her yourself. These were her thanks to me.”
Zhou Fu froze. Into his empty mind suddenly surfaced an old scene.
Years ago, they had also been talking about her marriage. When they heard the Cheng family had rashly arranged a match for her, he and Shi’san had rushed to find a proper one for her first – just like now.
Thinking of this, he couldn’t help smiling.
He had been frantic with worry, while she had simply pushed a box of pastries toward them.
“I still have things to do. You two should go back.”
“Take these and eat them. Thank you for your concern. Go have fun somewhere else.”
Just like now – Zhou Fu looked at Qin Hu, at the box he held in his hands.
It had always been the same… always…
“Shi’san…” He opened his mouth to say something, but found his voice rough and tight.
“I’m going now. I really do have things to do,” Qin Hu said, lifting his foot to walk on.
This time, Zhou Fu didn’t chase after him. He just stood there, watching Qin Hu slowly walk away, the box still held in his arms.
“All right… Even if admitting that you’re nothing in her eyes is harsh, you can’t really act like a child – clingy and making a fuss.”
But actually, it wasn’t even harsh. It just felt unreal. He couldn’t feel the harshness at all. He couldn’t feel anything…
“Move aside!”
“What’s this kid doing? He’s been standing here half the day!”
“Stupid or what? Out of the way, out of the way.”
People, horses, and carriages kept passing by, swaying as they went, stirring up gusts of wind and waves of noise.
So noisy!
Zhou Fu frowned impatiently and started walking.
“Sixth Young Master? Where’s your horse?”
“You walked back?”
“Sir? Sir?”
Zhou Fu kept his head up and walked straight ahead – until a hand grabbed his arm.
“Liu-lang, what’s wrong?” Madam Zhou asked in surprise, looking him up and down. “Why do you look so pale? Where did you go?”
Zhou Fu let out an “oh” in reply.
“I went to her place,” he said, pointing in that direction as he spoke.
Before Madam Zhou could speak, Master Zhou stepped forward.
“What happened? Why are you in such a state?” he frowned and shouted.
Zhou Fu uttered an “oh” again.
“Her marriage has been settled,” he said.
Settled?
Madam Zhou and Master Zhou were astonished.
“With whom? Who did she choose?” they asked in unison.
“Duke Jin’an,” Zhou fu said.
These words left Master Zhou and his wife stunned once again.
Madam Zhou stopped her hand, which had been covering her mouth as if she were about to cry. So it’s not Liu-lang? No wonder this boy had such a strange expression – I thought it was joy, but it turns out it wasn’t.
Duke Jin’an…
“Duke Jin’an!”
A cry of shock suddenly rang out in the courtyard.
“Is it true?”
“Of course it’s true. Duke Jin’an has already sought permission from the Emperor to marry her, and she has agreed,” Zhou Fu said.
Master Zhou’s hearty laughter echoed through the courtyard.
“Duke Jin’an! My goodness, I always knew our Jiao Jiao was extraordinary!”
“Sir, that’s a member of the imperial family!”
“Of course, and a very close relative at that! In the future, he might even be granted the title of Prince.”
“Sir, does that mean our precious girl is going to be a princess consort?”
“A princess consort? Our Jiao Jiao is more than deserving of even being an imperial consort!”
“Hurry, hurry, let’s go ask Jiao Jiao about it.”
Zhou Fu remained standing in place, watching and listening as the courtyard shifted from clamor to chaos before finally settling into silence.
“Finished asking, I suppose? Then I’ll return to my room,” he murmured to himself. Clenching and flexing his hands to relieve the numbness in his arms and neck, he casually rested them behind his head and sauntered off toward his own courtyard.
Compared to the Zhou family, which was bubbling with joy and excitement since Zhou Fu’s return, the Qin household was shrouded in an eerie atmosphere because of Qin Hu.
“Should we go check on him?” a few maids asked uneasily in the room.
“Don’t go!” Madam Qin raised her hand to stop them, then added, “We must not go.”
“But the Thirteenth Young Master, he seems…” The servants’ faces were full of concern.
“Doesn’t he seem perfectly normal?” Madam Qin said. “He even came to me to pour out his bitterness, saying there was nothing he could do – that even he couldn’t override the rules. That Lady Cheng simply wouldn’t make an exception for him, so he was heartbroken and needed to cry. He asked us not to disturb him.”
The maids exchanged glances.
“That’s precisely what’s abnormal.”
Madam Qin sighed again and said:
“Because that’s how a normal person would react.”
“Since childhood, Shi’san has always wanted to be a normal person. He only ever acts the way a normal person would, or how he thinks a normal person should react – never how he truly feels inside.”
“The fact that he’s now acting the way a normal person should means his real reaction is highly abnormal. He knows what his true reaction is – the one he absolutely doesn’t want anyone to see.”
As she spoke, Madam Qin couldn’t help but raise her hand to press against her chest.
“Let’s not even talk about Shi’san. When I heard the news, my own heart ached as if it had been torn out.”
The servants had been feeling sorrowful, but upon hearing this, they couldn’t help wanting to laugh – yet they couldn’t, leaving their expressions rather peculiar.
“Madam,” an elderly maid chided gently, “this is no time for jokes.”
“I’m not joking,” Madam Qin replied, frowning as she let out another sigh of distress.
Suddenly struck by a thought, she quickly rose to her feet.
“Wait – if Shi’san is acting abnormally, and I don’t go check on him, that would also be abnormal,” she said. “He doesn’t want others to realize he’s not himself. If he notices I’m acting out of the ordinary, he’ll know his own abnormal state has been noticed, and that will only deepen his sorrow.”
This rapid stream of “normal” and “abnormal” left the maids utterly bewildered. Before they could gather their thoughts, Madam Qin had already hurried out of the room, prompting the flustered group to rush after her.
From inside the room, laughter could be heard.
“Ha, Mother, you caught me. How embarrassing – I must look awful from crying.”
“Shi’san, who said I came to watch you cry? I’m clearly here to comfort you,” Madam Qin retorted without a hint of guilt, turning away from the window.
“Here, bring some pastries for Shi’san to enjoy – to cheer him up.”
The door to the hall stood open, and inside, the young man leaned against an armrest. Seeing his mother turn toward him, he smiled and raised the preserved fruit in his hand.
“I have some,” he said with a laugh. “And she made these.”
Madam Qin shook her head in mock exasperation.
“That girl is truly infuriating. Even in a situation like this, she sends you gifts – doesn’t that just make it harder to let go and move on?” she said, feigning annoyance.
Qin Hu raised his eyebrows with a smile.
“That’s just who she is. If she weren’t like this, how could I be so devoted to her?” he replied.
Madam Qin pursed her lips.
“Well, then keep on pining. I have things to attend to,” she said.
With an air of nonchalance, she turned to leave, accompanied by the chuckling servants who gathered around her.
But the moment her back was turned, the smile vanished from Madam Qin’s face, replaced by a furrowed brow and an expression of unconcealed worry.
Meanwhile, as Madam Qin’s figure disappeared from the courtyard, the smile faded from Qin Hu’s face. Slowly, mechanically, he placed the piece of preserved fruit into his mouth.
“So sweet,” he murmured, chewing bit by bit with deliberate slowness.
He lowered his head and gazed at the pastry box before him.
It’s just like before. Exactly like before.
So there’s no need to rush, no need to worry. This matter won’t succeed – just like that person back then, the one whose name I can’t even remember. He was even called her fiancé, and in the end, it still came to nothing.
A faint smile touched the corners of Qin Hu’s lips as he reached out and gently stroked the pastry box.
Lady Cheng… this time, it will be the same, won’t it? It will, won’t it?
Two days later, as the officials from the Court of Imperial Sacrifices stepped through the gates of the Cheng residence, the news of the marriage between Duke Jin’an and Lady Cheng finally spread far and wide. Instantly, the entire city was swept up in a fresh wave of excitement.
First, there had been the rivalry over the courtesan at Desheng Pavilion. Then, it had suddenly transformed into a romantic tale of love at first sight and a noble pursuit of marriage. Before anyone could fully process this heartwarming twist, the passionate young men at Desheng Pavilion, driven by jealousy over the prospect of sharing a wife, had stirred such intense emotions that it felt as if an arrow had pierced the heart of the entire capital. And just as the city was still reeling from that, the matter was abruptly settled – with a suitor no one had ever expected emerging.
A relative of the emperor. A duke. A member of the imperial clan.
The twists and turns of this saga were breathtaking. The suitors involved spanned civil and military ranks – influential officials, young aristocrats, childhood friends from military families, and even imperial relatives. All of them revolved around this one girl, Lady Cheng, whose own background and origins were so remarkable they could fill a book on their own.
For a time, every storyteller in the capital went into a frenzy. Working day and night, forgetting to eat or sleep, they feverishly composed various versions of The Tale of the Divine Maiden’s Marriage. These stories were then performed everywhere – from bridgesides and teahouses to grand inns and luxurious establishments – each venue echoing with its own rendition of the extraordinary tale.
In the imperial palace, Prince Ping’s studies continued uninterrupted. No matter how busy court affairs became, he never neglected his academic duties.
“What a spectacular show this has turned out to be,” Prince Ping remarked with a cold laugh, causing Chen Shi’ba-niang, who was practicing calligraphy nearby, to pause and look up.
A young eunuch stepped forward from beside Prince Ping, nodding with an ingratiating smile.
“Indeed, Your Highness. People are saying all sorts of things – it’s practically scandalous to the ear…” he whispered.
A shadow of a smirk crossed Prince Ping’s face.
“One reaps what one sows. Since His Majesty has consented, it is only fitting that I offer my congratulations to the Duke,” he said, his tone detached.
Noticing Chen Shi’ba-niang’s gaze, he stopped speaking.
“Your Highness, there is no longer a need for you to practice calligraphy so diligently. You need only pay a little attention to your handwriting when composing essays,” Chen Shi’ba-niang said with a gentle smile.
Her main duty now was teaching calligraphy to the young princesses in the palace. Compared to the intelligent and diligent Prince Ping, the princesses required considerably more effort.
Prince Ping shook his head mildly.
“The pursuit of knowledge brooks no idleness, even for a day. The sea of learning is boundless – I dare not grow complacent,” he replied. “I must still trouble you to guide me, Madam.”
Chen Shi’ba-niang smiled and nodded.
“Your dedication puts many scholars to shame, Your Highness,” she said.
“You flatter me, Madam,” Prince Ping responded, though his expression showed no sign that he considered her praise excessive.
“It is no flattery. Those who remain as steadfast in their studies as you from beginning to end are truly rare,” Chen Shi’ba-niang remarked. “So many people in this world are duplicitous – they speak eloquently, or start off well, but in the end, they prove to be merely ordinary.”
Like that Lady Cheng, she thought. We all thought she genuinely cared nothing for marriage or social status, that she was merely posturing for fame and attention all this time. Yet in the end, she was willing to marry as soon as a high-ranking imperial suitor appeared.
Picking up her brush, Chen Shi’ba-niang allowed a faint, knowing smile to curve her lips.
Merely ordinary, after all.
