The little boat rocked lightly atop the rippling river.
A pair of white egrets took flight from the distant sandy shoals, skimming past the snow-lined banks.
In the stillness, their eyes met and found reflections of each other within those twin mirrors.
“Your heartbeat is so loud,” she murmured.
“Sorry…” he whispered.
A quiet laugh escaped her. “Why apologize over something like this?”
He faltered briefly then repeated even more softly, “…Sorry.”
“Always the silly fool, Zhu Zi’an.”
Head ducking to hide her smile, she shifted off his lap. “You’ve soaked me through…”
“Because someone wasn’t concentrating properly during lessons,” he countered under his breath.
“Clearly the incompetent teacher’s fault.” She scoffed in return.
“Oh all right then, blame me,” he conceded helplessly.
Sitting up as well so they slouched face-to-face, both youths were drenched from head to toe – droplets continuously falling from drenched locks as if a pair of equally bedraggled kittens forced to weather the downpour in solidarity. Slanting sunshine broke through the clouds above, glinting off wheeling gulls, scattering reflections off the rippled surface.
Gaze lifting to hers, he asked with concern, “You didn’t hurt yourself from the fall did you?”
“I’m fine,” she met his stare. “And you?”
“Not great…” He frowned slightly, rubbing his chest. “My heartbeat really is too noisy now.”
Then he amended swiftly, “Just residual panic from your earlier scare.”
Casting his tinged earlobes a dubious look, she decided against calling him out. Reaching forward to ruffle his sodden hair instead, she chided, “You’re soaked through. Change clothes quickly so you don’t catch cold.”
Planting both feet stubbornly apart, he insisted, “You go first.”
Reluctantly acquiescing to his stubbornness, she grabbed the bundled cloth package resting on deck. Peeling it open revealed the clothes within had grown slightly damp on one side. Leaning over for a better look, his lips pressed together resignedly.
“It seems we’ll have to stopover a night in the next town to dry these out properly before proceeding onward.”
“Will that delay meeting the Wei River boats?” She wondered with some concern.
“We’ll make it on time. That vessel waits specifically for me,” he assured blithely.
As she shook out her still-dripping tunic, he paused contemplatively before suggesting, “There should be spare sets of clean robes stored under the canopy…”
“Mine, that is,” he appended awkwardly. “So the sizing probably won’t suit you well… But the chill remains biting. I fear you may catch illness without a change from those soaked garments.”
“I don’t mind…” She mumbled, turning her head away. “…Wearing your robes.”
After a brief hesitation, she added under her breath, “They’ve been laundered anyway.”
“True enough,” he conceded, running both hands distractedly through his hair.
Parting the cloth drapes, she ducked into the canopy’s shade and located his bundled clothes. Tugging the ties loose, she shook out an oversized outer coat of his and swiftly pulled it on.
The capacious fabric enveloped her form almost entirely, lined faintly along the inside with lingering warmth and the crisp scent forever clinging to him.
Sinking down out of sight, she spent some moments cradling flushed cheeks buried against raised knees. Once the feverish sensation finally faded, she sauntered casually back out feigning nonchalance.
He stood at the prow steering them downstream but glanced over upon catching her movement. Drowned inside the oversized garment, both trailing sleeves and extended hem dwarfed her diminutive frame further – as if a dainty porcelain doll swaddled inside. Smooth skin glowed alabaster against the dark spill of her unbound hair.
With a teasing smile, he commented, “Why, Young Master Jiang resembles a child sneaking about in borrowed adult finery.”
She bristled, on the verge of snapping back when a gentle tug at her collar gave her pause.
Having approached before she noticed, he bent down slightly to adjust the robes more comfortably about her. Fingertips drifting featherlight across her throat as he neatened the gaping collar and cinched the makeshift sash at her waist. Methodically rolling up the overlong sleeves until her snow-white wrists emerged before fastidiously refolding the trailing hems.
Hands hanging loose at her sides, she bore his fussing obediently as a compliant child. Inclined above her, his thoughtful expression was intent – straight nose and faint smile limned by flickering candlelight that lent his flawless features a smoky allure. For an ephemeral instant, he resembled an immortal exiled amongst the mundane world.
Worried he might inadvertently burn himself from proximity to the fiery brazier, she kept vigilant watch over him. Whenever she reached for the handle to check temperature, he would glance up to meet her eyes with a blithe smile. At his first glance, warmth would suffuse her skin.
“My first time seeing you cook,” she mumbled, looking away self-consciously. “Surprisingly adept for a supposed beginner.”
“Hardly untrained.” He shamelessly spun lies without blinking. “I’ve helped make meals since childhood.”
She gave a faint scoff only he could hear, murmuring under her breath, “As if a certain glutton didn’t nearly faint that one time last autumn.”
With their simple repast finished, they carried the piping hot dishes out. Despite having only just met, the old woman and two young guests showed warm camaraderie – as if generations of family seated down to share lively supper amidst tranquil bliss.
As the elderly retired early to rest, the pair speedily tidied up in companionable silence. Soon finished, they darted upstairs to stargaze side-by-side atop the roof.
The vast dome of heaven sprawled above them, vivid constellations scattered across expanse of black velvet. Removed from any urban light pollution, each pinprick star burned radiant silver – the entire galaxy seeming poised to rain down with the barest shake.
“Let me teach you the star names.”
At her skeptical look, he elaborated idly, “Have you heard of the common belief that those departed become stars in heaven?”
Voice softening, he shared, “I’ve been thinking… The day I’m no longer around, I’d like to transform into a star as well.”
She went very still, listening intently as he gave an odd little laugh and continued, “But I won’t tell you which one. That way – whenever you look to the night sky, you’ll know I’m watching over you.”
“Because among so many,” he whispered with gentle humor. “Any could be me.”
When she remained mute beside him, Zhu Zi’an turned his head toward her.
And froze in his tracks.
Framed in the glittering heavens above, silent tears trickled down her cheeks – crystalline beads that caught and reflected starlight.
“You’re…crying?” He managed numbly. “Why are you…”
“I’m not,” she denied with fierce head shakes. “I’m not crying at all…”
Thrown into mild panic, he tentatively reached out both arms to encircle her from behind – enfolding her cautiously as if she were some fragile treasure that he feared shattering by his touch alone.
“I’m here now… Just don’t be sad anymore. Please…?” He pleaded softly.
Nested securely in that embrace redolent of frost and blossoms adrift upon distant peaks, the fragrance soothed like peace incarnate – as if he had gathered armfuls of clouds from highest heaven to hold her close.
They remained thus for untold moments beneath the cosmos, until exhaustion finally left him swaying precariously. Bit by bit, he slumped slowly against her side, his chin coming to rest atop her shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut.
Fishing a small flask out from his coat lining, she carefully tipped its medicated wine into his mouth before clinging to him fiercely.
“You are forbidden from turning into any star.”
She tucked her head against his chest, straining to catch each fragile heartbeat.
“You must remain here always by my side.”
In this vibrant mortal world you love most dearly.
As dawn broke on the following morn, birdsong echoed merrily outside.
Having bid the elderly widow farewell, Jiang Kui and Zhu Zi’an boarded their humble craft toward the Wei River once more.
Despite the early hour, Zi’an yawned periodically as they went until Kui took him firmly in hand and towed him along. She pushed him into a seat aboard their boat and personally manned the helm up front instead.
Silhouetted commanding at prow under the golden daybreak, the dozing youth kept her company in the stern. Wind stirred miniature blossoms to drift down as snowflakes settled upon their fluttering sleeves – like countless blooms caught adrift.
Their tiny vessel drifted downstream, winding through meandering tributaries before finally merging into a broad mainstream.
Though deepest winter reigned, the mists shrouding Wei River bustled with ships crisscrossing channels jammed by streams of travelers packing the intersecting roads lining both embankments. Snatches of chanteys rang distantly above the fog, echoing faintly across vast waters.
Rousing from his light doze, Zhu Zi’an took over steering them toward shore.
A flotilla lay anchored at the bank where sailors bustled busily over final supply tallies while merchants verified inventory numbers. Upright masts lined the docks, canvas sails steadily unfurling to catch fair winds as vessels prepared for imminent departure. Bright daylight poured down from a cloudless blue expanse, early gusts causing the material to belly outward like breathing things rousing to motion.
“We’ll travel alongside this trade expedition,” indicated Zhu Zi’an. “They’re a convoy of traveling cloth merchants shuttling between Guanzhong and Jiangnan. Bribes in the right places cleared potential obstacles so everyone aboard can be trusted.”
Bringing their craft alongside the larger collective, he assisted Jiang Kui onto the jetties and led her toward the flagship at fore. Sailors swarmed its deck in a chaotic flurry of last minute activity, cursing at each other.
A burly docker keeping lookout scanned their approach. At recognizing Zhu Zi’an, he vaulted agilely down and dropped to both knees, fists meeting in respectful salute before the youth.
Sobering at once, Zhu Zi’an tensed subtly though insufficiently quick to forestall the booming hail that rang out.
“Your…Your Highness?!”
The aborted form of address ended on an awkward uptick into faint question beneath his quelling stare.
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