The flames in the brazier crackled and danced.
Zhu Zi’an continued wrapping white gauze around his fingers, casually saying: “What relationship could I have with him?”
Jiang Kui stared at him. “But you’re always asking me things about him.”
“You’re my senior sister. Now that you’re married, of course I’d care about your husband’s matters.” He finished wrapping his fingers and stretched with a yawn, lazily draping both arms over his head. Tilting his head, he smiled. “I’m your family now.”
Her gaze lingered on his face. “Do you know him?”
He laughed. “Xie Kang? How would I know that esteemed Crown Prince.”
“How much…do you know about him?”
“How much could I know? Just the rumors circulating around.” Zhu Zi’an yawned again.
He said softly: “Sickly and frail, who knows which day he’ll die.”
Jiang Kui stared hard into his eyes. “Zhu Zi’an, you don’t actually live at the bookstore…so where do you stay?”
“Jiang Xiaoman, you ask so many questions,” he sighed. Scratching his hair, he casually set aside the white kerchief on his head and stood, opening the elegant room’s door.
He looked down at her with a smile. “Let’s go.”
“Where to?”
“I’ll bring you to where I live.”
He really did live in an alley near the Eastern Pavilion, just as the rumors said.
In the post-rain sunlight, Zhu Zi’an led Jiang Kui down the street shaded by apricot trees. Water splashed lightly beneath their steps, one after the other.
The layer of rainwater coating the blue stone road floated endless white apricot petals. Tossed by the splashing droplets, they occasionally brushed their robe hems, blossoming between their sleeves.
Zhu Zi’an walked ahead, softly humming a tune. Jiang Kui listened for a while before recognizing the song they’d heard during Mid-Autumn – of a snow-white plum tree, with lyrics about “love arising unknowingly, deepening determinedly onward.”
Zhu Zi’an’s residence wasn’t far from the bookstore, an attic above a tailor shop.
He brought her up narrow stairs to a small lacquered door at the end. Vermilion couplets flanked the entrance, the bold calligraphy likely his own writing.
With a “creak”, they entered. Beyond was a tiny room with windowed alcove.
The narrow window was open halfway. Sunshine slanted in, illuminating the entire attic. The furnishings were simple: a desk, a wooden bed, a collectibles shelf full of tea sets. Many braziers were placed around the wooden floor, embers still crackling, warming the room.
Everything neat and tidy, except the desk strewn with books – some open, some closed. A row of writing brushes on an ebony brush stand. Next to it, a shallow inkstone reflecting a glossy sheen. An apricot petal drifted in through the window, landing amidst a book’s pages like a white butterfly.
Zhu Zi’an took a blue and white tea set off the collectibles shelf. Sitting before a low table, he tidied his sleeves and started brewing tea for them both.
While waiting, Jiang Kui wandered to the window desk, peering down curiously at the open books under the sunlight.
She noticed Zhu Zi’an read very common chapbooks and travelogues. Mixed in were a few illustrated martial arts chapbooks on “Falling Flower Point Silver Spear, the Rivers and Lakes’ Great Hero”. The lively and exaggerated contents were what Storyteller Liu most often told at the bookstore, quite humorously entertaining. She couldn’t help smiling involuntarily.
The tea was ready. Zhu Zi’an passed a cup to Jiang Kui. Separated by the low table, he propped his chin watching her. “There, you’ve seen everything now. This place is my secret, don’t tell anyone else.”
He added: “But don’t come looking for me here either. If I’m not at the bookstore, I don’t wish to see you.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to see me?” She tilted her head.
“When I’m in a bad mood, I don’t want to see you,” he said solemnly.
She humphed. “Then you really are easily in a bad mood.”
“That’s right. I’m this kind of person.” He smiled. “Sometimes, perfectly fine one second, then suddenly not the next.”
She asked: “Zhu Zi’an, are you really a scholar?”
“Mm. I’m from the south,” he nodded. “Came to Chang’an ten years ago.”
“You attended the Imperial College too?” she recalled.
“Yes. Later dropped out,” he added before she could ask. “Couldn’t pass the exams.”
She blinked wide eyes. “Someone as smart as you couldn’t pass exams?”
“That’s right,” he nodded seriously. “Because I don’t like studying.”
Then he smiled again: “If I’d passed and become a successful candidate, who knows, maybe I wouldn’t have become a broker.”
“But,” she interrupted, “You said this isn’t your actual face.”
“Jiang Xiaoman, stop asking,” he sighed. “What does it matter?”
Holding a teacup, he slowly drank. “I’ve lived just fine for many years with this face. My master was once a famed hero throughout the land. Yet afterwards, he took on a new face and spent many years as a tavernkeeper.”
“Maybe deep down, he’d always seen himself as a tavernkeeper. Happily counting stock in the cellar every night, greeting a few guests every day…how delightful, no?”
She said: “You promised I could see your true appearance one day.”
“Mm,” he nodded. “I take it back.”
She grew a little angry. “How can you take back your word?”
“I just can,” he chuckled. “I don’t like how I actually look.”
Then softly: “Too ugly.”
She considered, then asked: “Really so ugly?”
“Truly so,” he casually replied. “If I’m lying, feel free to hit me.”
Promptly changing topics: “Jiang Xiaoman, listen. The silver I’ve earned over the years will purchase a manor one day. Haven’t decided where yet, but definitely not Chang’an.”
“When you miss me in the future, you can visit my manor. But you definitely won’t see me there. Since I’ll be wandering far and wide. I’ll write you letters from distant places.”
“Maybe Jiangnan?” He mused against his chin. “I hear there’s a flower called June Snow that blooms in summer. Breathtaking when the wind blows…”
“Like falling snow,” he murmured.
“Zhu Zi’an, so you like snow?” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. “But you can already see it here. Doesn’t Chang’an get snow every year?”
“You must return to Chang’an to see the snow when it comes around,” she said. “And visit me while you’re at it.”
“I’d like that,” he smiled down at the table. “But I dislike the cold.”
He paused, then added: “I’m from the south after all.”
Everything he said was perfectly reasonable yet seemingly glib. His clear, limpid eyes brimmed with unquestionable earnestness. Leaning on his chin, he gazed at her as if determined to conceal a monumental secret.
“Alright then.” He set his cup down and lazily stretched. “Let’s go to Gu Lou Inn. Someone’s treating tonight, we can eat for free.”
Gu Lou was near the Western Market, very far from the Eastern Corner Tower. They first returned to the bookstore entrance to wait for Luo Shiyi’s carriage ride over.
At dusk, the previously warm weather cooled. Chilly winds breezed down the long street. The “little autumn sun of the tenth month” ended in but a day. Blossoms lined the street, fluttering down. Midwinter was fast approaching.
Zhu Zi’an gathered his sleeves, softly rubbing his hands while slowly pacing under a dim lamp. He resembled a shivering traveler from afar awaiting transport in the cold wind – trembling and dejected.
Jiang Kui watched him a while before going into the bookstore for a sleeve warmer from Liu Qinghe. She filled it with ashes and embers then unceremoniously shoved it into Zhu Zi’an’s hands.
“Aren’t you from the south?” She humphed. “Use this if you’re so cold.”
“Much thanks, much thanks.” He grinned accepting it, palms smoothing over the warmer like an impoverished scholar relying on burning coals for warmth.
This look resembled Xie Wuyan not one bit. That man would cradle a small silver hand-warmer when needing warmth. Head lowered, refined yet forlorn, tranquil as a miniature jade Buddha.
Twilight gradually faded. The carriage arrived before the bookstore.
Luo Shiyi drove up front while Jiang Kui and Zhu Zi’an boarded together. A blast of warmth from the burning coals within greeted them, the entire carriage like a furnace.
Jiang Kui hurriedly pulled the curtains open, but Zhu Zi’an still held the sleeve warmer. Sitting across from her, lips quirked in a smile.
“Our host is Bei Gai Chief Yuan Er. Thrilled at Lady Bai’s rescue, the old man’s arranged a feast at Gu Lou.” His roguish grin widened. “Prepare for a big surprise later.”
The carriage soon rolled to a stop, but not at Gu Lou in the Western Market. Instead it stopped before Chang Le Alley. Lively voices neared riotously even from afar.
“I thought we were going to Gu Lou?” Jiang Kui started in confusion.
“Mm,” Zhu Zi’an nodded. “Picking up people first.” He got out and turned, gesturing for Jiang Kui to follow him out. They walked to the black lacquered door of a nearby smithy where he called loudly:
“Master Bai! Dinner’s on me!”
A dainty maiden emerged from the smithy, a huge stone hammer slung over her shoulder. Rolling up her sleeves, she guffawed loudly: “How strange! Sir is always complaining of empty pockets, yet suddenly treating today?”
“Owe you a meal!” Zhu Zi’an laughed back. “Good wine and food galore tonight at Gu Lou Inn!”
He shut the curtain and returned into the carriage, overhearing her roar “Sounds great!” Turning back, he whispered sneakily to the girl inside: “It’s not my money anyway. This will sting Chief Yuan quite a bit.”
“Zhu Zi’an, you really are a penny-pinching ghost,” she whispered.
The carriage wheels rumbled over the long blue stone path, stopping at every alley entrance along Chang Le Lane. Each time, Zhu Zi’an would lean out calling for the residents to come out, loudly proclaiming a complimentary dinner banquet that very night at Gu Lou Inn downstairs.
Wisps of smoke rose as twilight fell over Chang Le Lane. His clear, bright voice penetrated through, inviting person after person. Every time he finished and returned into the carriage, he would grin roguishly at the girl within. She started wondering if he had other motives beyond ruthlessly duping Chief Yuan.
The carriage stopped again, this time outside the alley where A-Rong and her son resided.
Zhu Zi’an alighted, then turned to lead Jiang Kui out together towards the black lacquered door. After a few knocks –
Xiao Chen opened up. The handsome youth properly saluted them before leading both inside towards the rear courtyard. As they walked, he worried aloud: “Master Zhu, Brother Jiang – Lady Bai’s awake but not exactly cheerful, refusing medicine…”
The young teen scratched his head in distress: “She complains my decoctions are too bitter, even calling me a ‘silly goose’.”
Seeing him so dejected, Zhu Zi’an tried comforting him. He seemed to ponder seriously for a while before slowly advising: “Don’t take it too hard. I vaguely remember reading that when girls scold you, it’s not necessarily dislike…”
Jiang Kui stomped his foot: “What nonsense are you filling his head with?”
“My apologies, I was speaking nonsense,” he quickly bowed. “Xiao Chen, don’t listen to me. Listen to her.”
They opened the inner room door. A girl with delicate, exquisite features sat in bed, arrogance and defiance written all over her face. Hearing the door, she immediately started ordering them about.
Even angry, the girl’s voice remained soft and tender: “I already said! The medicine’s too bitter, I won’t drink it!”
She froze upon seeing not Xiao Chen but Jiang Kui and Zhu Zi’an enter. “Mean older sister!” She yelled loudly at Jiang Kui, hurriedly pulling the blanket over her head.
Then peeking out from underneath, she saw Zhu Zi’an and cried happily instead: “Good big brother!”
Zhu Zi’an chuckled and whispered to Jiang Kui: “Watch how I handle kids.”
Bringing Xiao Chen over, he patted Bai Chuan’s shoulder and gently chided: “Xiao Chuan, be good! Xiao Chen’s cared for you all this time, working very hard. You should properly thank him.”
Surprisingly, the girl obeyed. Facing the younger boy, she reluctantly grunted: “Thank you.”
Zhu Zi’an patted both children before turning to pull Jiang Kui out. Just as they left, the girl’s confused voice called from behind the door: “Master Zhu, you’re not bringing us along?”
“Your grandfather will come get you,” Zhu Zi’an replied without turning. “The carriage barely fits two.”
Jiang Kui said doubtfully: “It should fit two kids right?”
“It can’t,” Zhu Zi declared certainly.
Luo Shiyi flicked the reins up front, steering the carriage towards Gu Lou Inn. Zhu Zi’an yawned against the window, soon unable to resist dozing off amidst the rumbling wheels. Propping his elbow, he lightly cradled his head.
Turning to Jiang Kui, he said: “Talk with me a while, Jiang Xiaoman.”
She shook her head. “You’re sleepy. Nap first, I’ll wake you when we arrive.”
“Alright,” he murmured softly.
Jiang Kui sat opposite him watching him gradually slip into deep slumber. Neither passing peddlers’ shouts nor violent bumps could rouse him.
Body listing with the rocking carriage, she hurriedly tried propping him but couldn’t. Finally resigning herself to his side so he could sleep leaning against her shoulder.
Turning, she watched him. Even fast asleep he resembled that other man…How could two people appear so alike yet different?
“Sir, Brother Jiang-” Luo Shiyi called from outside after some time had passed. “We’ve arrived.”
Jiang Kui was back on the opposite carriage seat. Zhu Zi’an still slumbered deeply tilting into the wall. Hearing Luo Shiyi, Jiang Kui gently patted Zhu Zi’an’s head trying to wake him faster.
After much effort he finally awoke, eyes still shut asking: “How long was I out?”
“Not too long,” she replied. “Though Luo Shiyi drove exceptionally slowly today.”
Hearing her voice, he seemed to freeze briefly before asking: “…Where are we?”
“Western Market, Gu Lou Inn.”
He asked again: “What for?”
She blinked confusedly. “Chief Yuan’s treating dinner right?”
He didn’t respond, head lowered with bangs hiding his eyes. Just for a split second her heart violently lurched. Then he suddenly looked up laughing: “Jiang Xiaoman, you go on ahead first. A big surprise gift for you.”
Still mystified, Jiang Kui alighted and was abruptly met by a massive crowd outside Gu Lou Inn.
Every single one from the Northern Beggar Clan. Some in humble attire, some dressed in rags, some clutching ever-present begging bowls. But the instant they saw Jiang Kui, all simultaneously dropped to their knees in a bow, roaring in unison –
“Chief!”
Their roar shook the very skies.
“…What?” She was a little dumbfounded.
Low laughter sounded from within the carriage. “Remember I said Chief Yuan sought me out and was willing to pay any price to rescue his granddaughter?”
“Uh…?”
“That price was the Northern Beggar Clan Chief position. It’s been vacant for years. Whoever rescued Bai Chuan would gain that spot.”
He explained cheerfully. “…But you didn’t tell me?”
“Mmhm.” His laughter grew. “On purpose.”
“Zhu Zi’an!” She was furious.
“The Northern Beggars Chief needn’t handle clan affairs. The role even outranks the Bandit Chief. Little Bai Chuan will be under your charge from now on.”
He paused, then teasingly called her: “Chief Jiang, is all well today?”
She trembled from head to toe with rage. Turning, she glimpsed him bent over laughing behind the curtain.
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