Early winter in the Prosperous Thirteenth Year, during the solar term of Light Snow, the cold wind howled, whipping streaks of winter rain against one’s face.
The weather was foul, and the vendors of Chunliu Lane had long since packed up and headed home. Only Song Jin’s Steamed Bun Stall remained, sending up billows of hot steam into the air.
Within the swirling white mist, a slender figure moved briskly.
Several older women taking shelter from the rain watched Song Jin work with nimble hands before the stove. They couldn’t help but tease, “Little Jin, when are you going to bring that husband of yours out for us to see?”
Song Jin had married two months ago.
Word was that her husband had encountered bandits on his way to town. Not only was he robbed of all his silver, but he was also beaten severely. Despite his condition, he had held onto his last breath until he reached Song Jin’s home, only collapsing after the wedding ceremony was completed.
Since then, he had been recovering at home and had never stepped foot outside.
According to Auntie Xiao, who had gone to Song Jin’s house to help out, her husband was not only extremely handsome but also possessed a fine build.
They had been itching to catch a glimpse of him for a long time.
The young woman’s silhouette was shrouded in the steaming mist, her face hidden from view. Only her gentle voice could be heard: “There’s no rush. We’ll wait until his health improves.”
As a cool breeze drifted by, the mist thinned, revealing a lovely, palm-sized face from within the white vapor.
Song Jin had a fair complexion, and the heat from the stove had flushed her cheeks a deep red, as if she were wearing a layer of rouge. Her round almond eyes were bright, curving into crescents like little moons when she smiled.
She wore a simple, slightly worn cotton wrap-around skirt and a pale pink kerchief over her hair, adorned with a small pearl flower pinned to the side.
Seeing how busy Song Jin was, the women began to whisper among themselves.
The girl was lovely and likable, but her luck was truly wretched.
Song Jin wasn’t born in Chongzhou.
She was born in the capital, but she had been sent to her maternal grandfather’s home in Chongzhou shortly after birth. Fifteen years had passed in the blink of an eye.
During those fifteen years, both her mother and father in the capital had passed away, leaving only an older brother, Song Feng, who had secured a position in the military.
Song Jin was pretty, hardworking, and well-behaved. After she turned fourteen, many matchmakers had come to her door, but her grandfather hadn’t taken a liking to any of them.
It wasn’t until the old man fell gravely ill the previous year that he wrote a letter asking Song Feng to bring Song Jin to the capital, supposedly having already arranged a marriage for her.
She had waited a full year.
Though she looked gentle and obedient, Song Jin was a stubborn girl.
When her brother didn’t arrive, she handled her grandfather’s funeral arrangements alone and set up a Steamed Bun Stall at the entrance of the lane.
Later, perhaps because something went wrong in the capital, the one who arrived wasn’t Song Jin’s brother, but her fiancé.
Who could have known he would be so unlucky on the road? A perfectly fine man had been turned into a sickly invalid. Not only could he not help Song Jin, but she also had to spend extra money on his treatments and medicine.
Furthermore, with injuries that severe, who knew if he would ever truly recover?
After whispering for a while, the women finally concluded: “This girl waited a year, and instead of a protector, she ended up with a burden.”
A burden?
Song Jin’s hand, which was reaching for a steamer tray, paused. Her small face tightened with a hint of displeasure.
Her husband was no burden.
Her husband was handsome—the most handsome man she had ever seen in all of Chongzhou.
Although he stayed home due to illness, he wasn’t idle. Once he was able to get out of bed, he asked her to help him find work transcribing books. A single book could earn him a string of a thousand coins, equivalent to her selling seven hundred steamed buns.
His handwriting was exquisite, clearly the mark of a learned man.
Though he was somewhat stiff and serious, his gaze was clean, unlike other filthy men who always looked at her with lecherous eyes.
See? She could list so many of her husband’s virtues just like that.
He was definitely not a burden!
By the time the steam from the stove had dissipated, the winter rain had stopped.
The women who had been gossiping while taking shelter picked up their vegetable baskets and hurried away, fearing the rain would start again.
In the blink of an eye, Song Jin was the only one left at the stall.
She carefully placed some freshly made pastries into a box, untied the apron from her waist, and headed toward Xiucui Pavilion carrying the box.
Song Jin’s Steamed Bun Stall had two stoves.
A large one was for steaming buns, and a smaller one was for making pastries. Pastries were delicate, so she rarely made them, supplying them only to a few regular clients.
Today’s Wedding Cake Pastries had been ordered by Xiucui Pavilion.
A few days ago, a wealthy merchant in the city, Master Wang, had redeemed the courtesan Qing Hong from Xiucui Pavilion. Tonight, she was to be taken to his home as a concubine.
After leaving Chunliu Lane and crossing a few streets, she arrived at Xiucui Pavilion.
As usual, Song Jin entered through the back door. Along the way, she saw nothing in the way of decorations except for a few “Double Happiness” characters.
Upon reaching Qing Hong’s room, Song Jin arranged the Wedding Cake Pastries and stood obediently by the door, waiting for the head maid to bring her the payment.
Qing Hong was the top courtesan of Xiucui Pavilion. Even though she was no longer young, her grace and beauty remained top-tier.
She sat at her vanity, dressed in a rose-red gown, but there was little joy on her face.
After all, Master Wang was over sixty years old—hardly a good match.
Song Jin didn’t say much, merely standing quietly by the door.
Seeing the “Happiness” characters in the room, Song Jin couldn’t help but recall her own wedding day two months ago.
It was called a wedding, but the ceremony had been far too meager.
The wedding robes were borrowed from a neighbor’s sister-in-law, the red candles were leftovers from the house, and even the “Happiness” characters were cut out on the spot by Auntie Xiao.
Even the groom himself had been more dead than alive.
Auntie Xiao had held her hand then, saying it was far too unfair to her and telling her to think it over carefully.
But Song Jin didn’t feel that way.
The fact that he had used his last bit of strength to travel all the way to Chongzhou showed he was a man who kept his word. He had brought her brother’s token and final words, and since the marriage had been arranged long ago, she had no reason to refuse.
Besides, he was very handsome.
Thinking of this, Song Jin felt a bit bashful.
While she wasn’t bad-looking herself, she much preferred looking at a handsome man than looking at her own reflection in a mirror.
On the several occasions she had delivered pastries to Xiucui Pavilion and encountered the new young male entertainers, she would always steal a few glances.
As Song Jin’s thoughts drifted, her nose suddenly caught a whiff of perfume.
Turning her head, she saw Sister Ju Lan standing beside her, whispering into her ear, “Little girl, that book I gave you—have you read it with your husband yet?”
The pastries Song Jin made were sweet but not fattening, and the medicinal herbs she added provided nutritional benefits, making them favorites among the women of Xiucui Pavilion.
Song Jin’s marriage had been sudden. When the women heard the news, they had stuffed her with many gifts. Ju Lan had even given her a small volume, calling it the “treasure of the pavilion.”
She had brought the book home in her vegetable basket and read through it that very night by the dim light of a candle.
One side of her face had turned bright red as she marveled that it truly was a treasure!
Except…
She doubted her husband would ever look at such a book.
Song Jin frowned and sighed softly.
Her husband was good, but he was far too proper.
In the two months they had been married, they hadn’t so much as touched fingertips.
When he was injured, he had asked a clinic apprentice to change his bandages, and later he did it himself.
Their only moment of “intimacy” was when she had accidentally walked in on him while he was bathing and caught a glimpse of his pale chest.
Song Jin had pretended to turn away in embarrassment, but he had swiftly turned his back and thrown on his inner robe, moving even faster than she did.
He was so stingy even about a single look, let alone that book.
Seeing Song Jin’s silence and the dejection on her face, Ju Lan’s brows knit slightly. “Is your husband really that lacking in romantic spirit?”
Song Jin whispered an explanation, “Husband was a teacher when he was in the capital, so naturally…”
Before she could finish, Ju Lan raised her silk fan to cover her face and let out a light snort.
“Little girl, let me tell you—no matter how dignified a man acts on the outside, they all like it a bit wild on the inside. Especially as a wife, you can’t be too honest.”
Worried that such a sweet girl wouldn’t take it to heart, Ju Lan reached out with her slender, fair finger and tapped Song Jin between the brows.
Song Jin’s small head wobbled from the tap.
Can’t be too honest?
Song Jin looked thoughtful and whispered, “I wasn’t that honest. A few days ago, I secretly went to Taohua Nunnery on the east side of town to get a talisman. The Taoist priest said it’s called a Heart-Connecting Talisman; as long as you have it, husband and wife will be of one mind.”
The priest had sounded very convincing, and the Heart-Connecting Talisman had cost her a hundred coins.
That night, she had used the excuse of tidying the bedding to quietly tuck the talisman under the Blue Gauze Bed Curtain.
Seeing how serious Song Jin was, Ju Lan couldn’t help but laugh.
“You actually believe that old fraud? You’re such a sweet and lovely girl, let me teach you a few tricks. They’ll ensure your husband is tied to your skirt strings for the rest of his life.”
“Really?” Song Jin was a bit tempted.
After all, the Heart-Connecting Talisman had been there for several days now, and it didn’t seem to be having much of an effect.
“You don’t believe me?” Ju Lan gave her a playful glare, then pulled Song Jin’s ear close and began to whisper.
Song Jin’s fair face grew redder and redder until it looked like it had been steamed all over again.
As she listened, she even pulled her ear away a little out of embarrassment.
Only to be yanked back by Ju Lan.
When the head maid entered the room, she saw Ju Lan pulling Song Jin into a corner for a private whisper.
Their faces were hidden behind the silk fan, just enough to reveal Song Jin’s scarlet face.
Her almond eyes were wide, wearing an expression of “so it can be done like that.”
The head maid scolded with a smile, “Always corrupting this young lady!”
“Oh, the head maid is here.”
Ju Lan had finished most of her instruction. Seeing someone arrive, she let go of Song Jin’s ear and sauntered over to Qing Hong’s side, fanning herself and casually helping her choose earrings as if nothing had happened.
Compared to Ju Lan, Song Jin looked like a guilty little quail.
Her voice was tiny. “Ma… Ma’am…”
“Here, this is the payment for today’s pastries.” The head maid placed a small pouch of copper coins into Song Jin’s hand.
Song Jin took the pouch and counted carefully. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
“Wait.” A cool voice came from the vanity.
Qing Hong’s elegant hand reached out, picking up a bright red pouch of “wedding money” and handing it over.
She didn’t turn around, still staring at herself in the mirror.
“Take this wedding money.”
What a stroke of luck!
Song Jin beamed, her round almond eyes curving into crescents.
She stepped forward and accepted the red pouch with both hands. “Thank you, Sister Qing Hong.”
The sky was terrifyingly gloomy, and the cold wind outside picked up again, fluttering the red silk ribbons hanging in the room.
Song Jin said a few more auspicious words. Seeing that it might snow, she wrapped her padded jacket tightly and hurried home.
As expected, just as she crossed one street, the winter rain began to fall. The north wind was freezing, and the rain was mixed with small grains of ice that stung upon impact.
Half of Song Jin’s jacket was soaked, forcing her to huddle at a street corner to hide from the rain.
The coin pouches in her arms felt heavy. As a gust of wind mixed with light snow blew past, Song Jin shivered.
She pulled her jacket tighter, planning the winter necessities she needed to buy for the house over the next few days.
Rice, flour, and firewood were a must; prices would surely rise soon. Oh, and she also needed to make two winter cotton robes for her husband.
Calculating it like this, the heavy pouches in her pockets didn’t seem quite enough.
Song Jin crunched the numbers for a while. When she looked up again, the sky was darkening, and the icy sleet had turned fully into snow.
After a moment’s thought, she gritted her teeth, shielded her head with her hands, and ran through the snow back to Chunliu Lane before nightfall.
At the end of Chunliu Lane stood a massive pomegranate tree. It was said to be two or three hundred years old, so large it could be seen from the lane’s entrance.
In the autumn when it bore fruit, one could see splashes of vibrant red from far away.
Chunliu Lane was named after the pomegranate tree, though the lane itself was old and somewhat dilapidated.
Song Jin lived in the house right next to the tree. Its branches extended into her courtyard; sometimes, she could reach out and pluck a plump pomegranate.
Returning to the house, Song Jin took off her damp jacket and changed into dry clothes before walking to her husband’s door and knocking softly.
As soon as the knock fell, a slightly cold voice drifted through the door: “Enter.”
Song Jin pursed her lips, feeling shy even through the door.
She pushed the door open and looked up to see Xie Qiao sitting at the square table.
Even though she had been looking at him for two months, his face was captivating every single time.
The side room was small, with only a single candle burning on the square table. In the flickering shadows, his features remained excessively beautiful.
His face was somewhat lean. When he was focused on transcribing, his lips were lightly pressed together, and his gaze was concentrated, yet devoid of emotion—only a faint, cool detachment.
He held a book in his left hand and a brush in his right, his long, fair fingers gripping it with an easy grace, as if those hands were born to be companions to books.
The candle was a leftover from the night before, only half a nub left, and its light wasn’t very bright.
As he lowered his gaze now under the tiny flame, his long lashes cast a small shadow over his eyelids.
He was tall and slender, wearing a grey padded jacket that was neither new nor old, yet it could not hide his innate noble air.
And then there was his waist, cinched by a coarse cloth belt…
His waist…
Song Jin’s gaze stalled as her thoughts began to wander.
Sister Ju Lan had just said that by wrapping your legs around the other person’s waist, you could get even closer.
Song Jin’s eyes lingered on his midsection. Even though the table partially obscured it, she could vaguely see that beneath that coarse belt, his waist was lean and strong…
It looked very easy to wrap around.
As the final character of the page was written, Xie Qiao placed the brush on the inkstone and looked up at the girl standing in the doorway.
She was covered in a mist of moisture, the tips of her hair still damp, and her face was flushed with an unusual redness.
She stood there looking a bit dazed, her almond eyes fixed on the table, lost in thought.
Xie Qiao followed her gaze toward the underside of the table without making a sound.
There seemed to be nothing special there.
His expression tightened slightly as he looked up and spoke to the daydreaming girl in a level tone. “Ah-Jin, what are you looking at?”