Amidst the dazzling display of silks and shimmering jewels, Pei Huaian’s gaze fell solely upon the pear blossom-like moon beneath the Muli. A peculiar sensation swiftly struck him, causing his breath to hitch slightly. He couldn’t resist moving toward the figure.
However, he still held a red parrot in his hand, and the stall owner quickly called out to him: “Young master, you haven’t paid yet.”
Pei Huaian looked down and saw the red parrot struggling vigorously in his grasp. He hurriedly returned the little creature to the stall owner and asked, “How much?”
The stall owner quoted the price, and Pei Huaian took out some silver to hand over: “Please keep this pair of parrots here for now. I’ll come back later to retrieve them.”
“Certainly,” the stall owner readily agreed.
In just a moment, when Pei Huaian turned to look for the young woman again, the elegant white figure was no longer in front of the book stall.
Scanning the area, he realized she had moved to another stall.
Shen Youran had originally accompanied her sister to select calligraphy and paintings. But her sister was particular in her tastes and found many pieces unsatisfactory. After accompanying her sister for quite some time, Shen Youran grew thoroughly bored. It was then that she noticed a stall selling Mohe Le in a corner of the book exhibition. Unlike the small clay Buddha statues she had seen earlier, the Mohe Le at this stall were crafted as figures from tower stories, adorned with rice-paper silks, gold, silver, pearls, and jade. The tiny figures leaned against carved wooden railings, vivid and exquisitely detailed.
Shen Youran tugged her sister over to look. Upon inquiring about the prices, she found the cheapest cost three taels of silver, while the expensive ones went for ten taels.
No wonder there were few people at this stall—the high prices had scared them away.
Her sister refused to buy her one, saying that if they purchased a Mohe Le, there wouldn’t be enough money left for calligraphy and paintings.
But Shen Youran truly adored the Mohe Le at this stall. She lingered stubbornly in front of it, examining one after another. She wasn’t being greedy; she didn’t pick the most expensive or the most beautiful one, but rather the one that most captured her fancy. Pointing at the Mohe Le with one hand and tugging at the clothes of the person beside her with the other, she skillfully began to wheedle: “I want that one. It’s only five taels. Buy it for me, please…”
She had expected to have to coax her sister a while longer before she would agree. But the next moment, a jade-like hand extended a piece of broken silver to the stall owner. Then, the very Mohe Le she had chosen was picked up and offered to her.
“Here, for you…”
Wait, that wasn’t right.
This wasn’t her sister’s hand, nor was it a woman’s voice.
Shen Youran stared blankly upward along the arm and abruptly met the fierce, rugged visage of a Nuo mask. Startled, her legs weakened, and she stumbled backward several steps. Unfortunately, she bumped into passersby behind her, losing her balance and staggering as if about to fall.
A slender arm reached out and steadied her by the waist just in time.
“Sorry, I frightened you.” The voice was clear and cool, with a slight lift at the end—likely belonging to a young man.
“I-It’s alright…”
After helping her stand steady, Pei Huaian withdrew his hand, intending to remove the Nuo mask from his face. But before he could undo it, the other person, like a startled fawn, turned to flee.
He had no choice but to abandon removing the mask for the moment. Reaching out again, he caught her, gripping her wrist, and pressed the Mohe Le she had chosen into her hand: “You forgot to take this.”
Shen Youran’s face was flushed crimson with embarrassment, wishing she could vanish from this man’s presence immediately: How mortifying that she had just acted coquettishly toward a complete stranger!
She struggled to free her pinned wrist, pushing back as she said, “Thank you, but I don’t know you. I can’t accept your gift.”
“What Young Master gives away never gets taken back,” the other insisted, his tone growing more stubborn. “If I say you should take it, then take it.”
Though Shen Youran had read many romantic novels and knew countless tales of love between men and women, being tugged and pulled by a strange man in public felt nothing like the romance described in those stories.
Being largely unaccustomed to interacting with men outside her family, she found herself at a complete loss in this unprecedented situation. Her mind could only fixate on finding her sister: “My sister has money. I’ll call her over to pay you—please let me go…”
As she glanced around searching for her sister, the veil of her Muli was suddenly lifted. Her eyes widened in shock and fear.
“So it really is you…”
He had only caught a fleeting glimpse earlier, roughly making out her features, but he remembered these eyes. Only now, they weren’t calm as before—instead, they were filled with terror and wariness, tinged with helplessness, their trembling lashes fixed on him.
She looked even more pitiable and captivating than he’d imagined.
His heart stirred, and he grew bolder, pulling off her veil entirely.
A small, blushing face was thus exposed before him, with nowhere to hide.
She was even more beautiful than he had pictured.
When it came to pretty girls, Pei Huaian was always generous: “No need to call your sister. Young Master has plenty of money. Since I said it’s a gift, just accept it peacefully…”
Yet no amount of generosity could excuse his brazen behavior. Humiliated and angered by his intrusion, and hearing him repeatedly refer to himself as “Young Master” in that frivolous, conceited tone, Shen Youran concluded he must be a glib, frivolous philanderer. She grew even more reluctant to take his gift—what if he started pestering her?
So she glared at him fiercely, trying to prove she wasn’t someone to be trifled with: “I already said I don’t want it. Why can’t you understand plain speech…”
Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly spotted a familiar figure. Turning to look, she recognized the tall stature and familiar attire of Liang Liulang, the man she had met behind the Heavenly King Hall that morning for their arranged meeting.
Though the distance made it hard to discern his expression clearly, she saw Liang Furen beside him shake her head and say something. Then mother and son turned and walked away.
It wasn’t hard to guess: they must have mistaken her relationship with the man before her, assuming she was a fickle, loose woman, and left in disappointment.
How unjust!
Furious and flustered, she shoved the man away with all her strength, lifted her skirts, and dashed off.
“Hey, why are you running?” Pei Huaian hadn’t even had time to ask her name before she disappeared into the bustling crowd.
He weighed the Mohe Le figurine he hadn’t managed to give her in his hand. Though he felt some regret, he didn’t pursue her further: Oh well, if fate allows, we’ll meet again.
Shen Youran ran behind a large tree adorned with hanging calligraphy and paintings, hiding for a good while before cautiously peeking out. Seeing that the masked man hadn’t chased after her, she let out a sigh of relief, her heart still pounding with lingering fear.
Then she spotted her sister in the crowd. Her sister, wearing a Muli, was looking around anxiously, the thin veil swaying with her movements—clearly searching for her younger sister.
Shen Youran carefully scanned the surroundings and, no longer seeing the rogue’s figure, hurried out to find her sister.
“Where have you been? I was just…” Shen Yunshu began to scold her for wandering off, but Youran cut her off.
“Sister, I just encountered a scoundrel. This isn’t a safe place to linger—let’s return home quickly.”
Hearing the tremulous fear in her younger sister’s voice, Yunshu swallowed further questions. Abandoning plans to purchase calligraphy, she grasped Youran’s hand and led her out of the temple grounds.
During the clattering carriage ride home, Youran clung to her sister’s arm and tearfully recounted the entire encounter with the libertine, including how the Liang mother and son had witnessed her struggling with the man.
“How dreadful! Madam Liang and Liang Liulang must have misunderstood the situation completely. I must find them and explain…”
Yunshu listened with growing horror and remorse. She recalled how at the Mohe Le stall, Youran had insisted on buying the exquisitely carved clay figurine. Yunshu had planned to quickly select a scroll from a nearby stall, promising to return for the figurine if funds permitted. But then she’d discovered a rare antique book at a literature stall, and after purchasing it, became distracted at the calligraphy stand. In the bustling crowd, she’d failed to notice her sister being harassed.
“Let Father handle the explanations later. You’ve suffered enough shock today—no need to confront them yourself…”
After returning home, Yunshu waited until their father’s evening return before recounting the day’s events.
Shen Tingyu, who served in court alongside Liang Liulang’s father, naturally fell into step with him after the next day’s imperial session.
The Liang patriarch had been instructed by his wife to dissolve the marriage arrangement between the families. But after hearing Shen Tingyu’s explanation, he realized his wife and son had misjudged the young lady.
Though the misunderstanding was clarified, the engagement remained canceled. While the Liang family outwardly accepted the explanation, they remained uncertain whether it reflected truth or post-facto justification, and ultimately chose to withdraw from the match.
For his part, Shen Tingyu felt resentful—had Madam Liang and her son stayed moments longer, they would have witnessed Youran’s distress and helplessness during the assault. Instead, they’d departed immediately, leaving his daughter traumatized. Fortunately, no irreparable harm had occurred…
The failed match with the Liang family deepened Yunshu’s self-reproach. Youran, however, remained blissfully unaffected—not only unbothered by the lost engagement, but actually delighted to postpone marriage prospects. Her cheerful disposition soon overshadowed the unpleasant memory of the rogue.
The sixth day of the sixth month marked the Tiankuang Festival, though not particularly significant. Yet the Pei family’s delivery of ceremonial gifts demonstrated their regard for Yunshu as their future daughter-in-law.
Following the festival came Old Madam Pei’s birthday celebration. The Shen household, as prospective relatives, naturally received an invitation.
On the day of the banquet, Yunshu brought sachets embroidered with her own hands and attended alongside her stepmother, Wei Shi.
Shen Yunshu had deliberately kept her engagement a secret from her biological mother, fearing that her stepbrother Lu Yi would disrupt the match upon learning of it. However, judging by the timing, her mother and stepfather should soon arrive in the capital. Fortunately, her marriage to the eldest son of the Pei family was already firmly settled—otherwise, she would have dreaded her stepbrother’s interference…
The carriage halted in front of the Pei residence. Shen Yunshu alighted with Wei Shi, and Granny Jiang, who served Old Madam Pei, was already waiting at the entrance. With a warm smile, she ushered them inside.
The birthday banquet for Old Madam Pei was held in the flower hall. As this year marked a significant milestone birthday, nearly all members of the Pei family and their relatives attended—except for Pei Huaijin, who was stationed far away in Lingzhou and unable to leave his post without authorization, and Third Master Pei Yuanzhou, who was busy with trade at the Quanzhou docks. All five flower halls were filled to capacity, and Shen Yunshu’s arrival as the future wife of the eldest grandson naturally drew considerable attention.
As soon as she entered, countless gazes—some overt, some subtle—settled upon her. Shen Yunshu lowered her lashes slightly, steadied her composure, and walked directly to Old Madam Pei. With her hands clasped before her chest, she performed a ceremonial bow and presented the gift she had made herself. Then, following the old madam’s introduction, she greeted Zhu Shi—her future mother-in-law—and the other elders at the table.
Two seats remained vacant to the left of the old madam, reserved for her and her stepmother.
Amid fine wine and fresh flowers, the banquet commenced. The flower hall buzzed with laughter and continuous congratulations, and the attention on Shen Yunshu gradually waned. Maids in cloud-patterned robes wove through the hall, frequently refilling glasses with longevity wine. The women drank fruit wine, pale in color and fragrant in taste. After a few cups, Shen Yunshu gradually relaxed, listening quietly with a faint smile as the elders conversed.
However, her future mother-in-law’s health was rather frail. Halfway through the banquet, she asked her maid to support her back to her quarters for rest.
Once she left, someone casually remarked, “Why haven’t we seen Meng Yatou by Eldest Sister-in-Law’s side today?”
The speaker was a lady from a collateral branch.
The wife of the Pei family’s second branch replied, “That Miss Meng left the day before yesterday—she returned to her hometown to prepare for her marriage…”
“Meng Yatou is engaged too? To which family’s young gentleman?”
“To Lin Wulang of the Changxing Marquis Manor…”
Shen Yunshu, who had been pleasantly tipsy, suddenly grew alert upon hearing the name Lin Wulang of Changxing Marquis Manor. Wasn’t this the same Lin Wulang who had sought to marry Third Sister two years ago? At the time, she had learned that Lin Wulang kept a highly favored Tongfang and, fearing Third Sister would suffer after marriage, had urged her father to decline the Lin family’s proposal. Two years had passed, and she had assumed Lin Wulang would have married by now—never expecting him to only now become engaged, and to a girl who had served her future mother-in-law.
Though Shen Yunshu had never met this Miss Meng, she knew her future mother-in-law had such a girl in her service. She was surprised the girl had accepted Lin Wulang’s proposal. She could only hope Lin Wulang had reformed and would not become the type of man to dote on concubines at his wife’s expense.
“Eldest Sister-in-law doted on Meng Yatou so much—I thought she would marry her to one of her own sons.” No sooner had these words been spoken than the speaker caught Old Madam Pei’s steady gaze and hurriedly corrected herself, “I meant Seventh Lang from your third branch. He and Miss Meng are of a similar age…”
In truth, they all knew that Zhu Shi had originally intended to marry Miss Meng to her own son, but the matter was dropped after the matriarch took a liking to the eldest daughter of the Shen family.
Noticing the awkward atmosphere, the second branch’s wife quickly smoothed things over with a smile: “Speaking of which, why hasn’t Little Seven arrived yet? I heard the child prepared a mysterious birthday gift for the matriarch, hiding it in his room and refusing to let anyone see it…”
The conversation then shifted to teasing the seventh son of the third branch. This sixteen-year-old youth was widely known for his frivolous reputation, something Shen Yunshu had also heard about.
Just as they were talking, a figure in pale yellow suddenly bounded into the flower hall and appeared at their table in the blink of an eye.
Shen Yunshu instinctively looked up and saw a young man wearing a Suzhou-embroidered half-sleeved robe with a front opening, his jet-black hair tied high. He possessed a jade-like countenance, radiant and spirited, yet his tone carried a hint of willfulness when he spoke—likely the very Pei family’s seventh son the elders had just been jesting about.
He was holding a birdcage where a pair of brightly-feathered red parrots stood on a perch. Prodded by his grass stem, they competed to recite auspicious phrases:
“Good fortune to the matriarch!”
“May the matriarch enjoy prosperity, longevity, and peace!”
“Live a hundred years!”
“Live a hundred years!”
Though the parrots merely mimicked the same few phrases, they still made the matriarch beam with delight as she dotingly gazed at her youngest grandson: “You little rascal, always scheming up these tricks…”
The entire table joined in the laughter.
Amidst a table full of elders, the sole young maiden naturally caught Pei Huaian’s attention.
His eyes swept over her, and he suddenly froze: “It’s you!”
Shen Yunshu was taken aback, her face showing confusion.
His gaze lingered on her features briefly before his brows furrowed slightly, as if disappointed: “Oh, it’s not you…”