His middle finger pressed against the strings, a heavy note fell like a bead striking the floor.
The music stopped.
Xie Jilian slowly lifted his gaze. Behind the plain white bed curtains, the young woman lay still, her body a slight mound beneath the quilt, curled tighter than when she was hale and lively, pressed close against her pain.
Through the distance and the layers of drapery, he could not see Xu Qiaoxi's collapse, but he could imagine it.
The sound of the strings was the sound of the heart—and tonight, his heart was quite pleased.
Xu Qiaoxi was ill. She could go nowhere, see no one. The bed was her entire world. In such cramped circumstances, people went mad, wept, panicked, and withered entirely under a fear that had no shape or form.
He had brought his zither here for precisely this reason—to savor the moment of her utter vulnerability.
How beautiful it was. Like the short, crisp ring of white jade snapping in two. Like the flash of red when a golden caged bird craned its neck to sing until blood spilled from its beak.
Xu Qiaoxi was unlike any young woman Xie Jilian had ever met. She was unbound and unrestrained, vivid and recklessly brave—so when she struggled, she did so with more… vitality than others.
That alone would have been enough for Xie Jilian to toy with. But then she had to ask, "Why are you so good to me?"
Suddenly, he was pulled from his obsession with her suffering, and felt instead a scorching heat—of being trusted, of being relied upon. His heart thrummed with warmth.
What he drew from her was more than Xu Qiaoxi could ever imagine. He fed on her innocence, her ignorance, her fragility, her sickness—and from them, he drew the thrill of being alive.
Beneath the moonlight, he was even breaking a sweat.
Xu Qiaoxi did not know that by asking such a question, she was practically inviting Xie Jilian to creep along the cracks of her vulnerability and devour her spirit.
An unspeakable ecstasy left Xie Jilian dizzy, his heart hammering wildly. He stared at the body on the bed, his very eyeballs twitching like pulses.
"A reason? Perhaps others need one. But for Lian, some things are done simply because the heart wills it."
His voice turned abruptly hoarse. His right hand moved from the strings to his collar, tugging at it to let the night wind slip in and ease the surging tide within his body.
"Qiaoxi, do you enjoy listening to the zither? If you do, Lian can continue."
After a long while, he heard a muffled voice from the bed: "Lingjia… thank you."
Xie Jilian curved his lips, hooked his fingers over the strings, and softly sang the final stanza of "The Moon Rises."
Shu yao shao xi, lao xin can xi.
(How fair she is, how my heart aches.)
He heard her still sobbing softly, her cries drifting in and out of sync with the trembling strings.
As if he were playing her.
In that instant, Xie Jilian had a revelation.
He liked Xu Qiaoxi. He would keep her. He would never let her go again.
After more than twenty days of lying in bed, the season had turned to autumn.
The early days had been hard. Xu Qiaoxi could barely sleep at night. But thankfully, Xie Jilian was there to keep her company, and at least she was no longer afraid.
With Lu Yun and Lan Yan diligently brewing her medicine and bringing it to her, all of Xu Qiaoxi's symptoms had faded, save for occasional drowsiness and fatigue.
"The imperial physician said you're lucky to be young—your body can take it. And with medicine to sustain you, otherwise…" Lu Yun was trimming chrysanthemums in the flower bed outside the corridor, picking the fullest and most vibrant blooms as she described the scene to Xu Qiaoxi. "Out there, it's bad. Several market districts in Luoyang are already nine in ten empty."
Xu Qiaoxi hugged a celadon vase with double handles, crouching by the flower bed to take the chrysanthemums Lu Yun handed her. At those words, she forgot to put the flowers in the vase and froze, clutching the stems.
"That serious…?"
"Of course. Think about it—you had us waiting on you hand and foot, and you still felt miserable enough to cry every day. Those common folk out there, some can't even get medicine. What else can they do but grit their teeth and wait to die?"
Lu Yun was not a household-born servant of the Xie family; her parents still lived outside. When plague broke out in the city, she had gone to visit them twice, and along the way she had seen things that shook her to the core. Once she started talking, she couldn't stop—until she noticed Xu Qiaoxi's expression had turned pale.
"Oh dear…" She blinked helplessly. "I only told you all this to remind you to rest properly. Don't get up and think you're hale and hearty again."
Xu Qiaoxi knew Lu Yun wasn't trying to frighten her. She forced a faint smile and lowered her head, arranging the chrysanthemums one by one into the celadon vase.
Pale autumn sunlight spilled over the crimson corridor. Lan Yan came rushing over, cradling a small jar in her arms.
"Look, everyone! Something good!"
The celadon vase sat on the low table, the chrysanthemums' pale gold filaments curling inward, their fragrance drifting in wisps.
Beneath the flowers, the small jar was opened. Lan Yan reached a pair of long bamboo chopsticks into the dark depths and fished out one plump crab after another, each the size of a palm.
"These are sugar-cured crabs—only the Grand Commandant and the Young Master get to enjoy them. This year, because you're here, the kitchen spared us a small jar."
Lan Yan beamed and counted the crabs.
"Six whole ones!"
Xu Qiaoxi leaned over the table, catching the sweet-savory aroma of the cured crabs, and her mouth began to water involuntarily.
Even in the modern world, crabs weren't cheap unless you lived near the coast. Hairy crabs especially were sold by the piece, priced by size.
"Is this very expensive?"
Xu Qiaoxi had a "hobby" in Qianchuan Chunting—guessing how much everything here was worth. She usually got an answer, and a shock to the system along with it.
"Expensive?" Lan Yan's voice nearly cracked. "Even if you have money, you can't always get them!"
"The south is fine, but we in the north don't naturally produce much crab. Good crabs have to be transported over long distances. To keep them fresh, they're pickled in a mixture of malt syrup, salt and smartweed broth, ginger, and dogwood—all prepared at home. There's a price, but no market."
Xu Qiaoxi let out an enlightened "Oh."
So this was another exclusive privilege of the high-born families.
She scanned the crabs cheerfully. "Perfect—that's two for each of us three."
But Lu Yun and Lan Yan's delight dimmed instantly, replaced by confusion.
"We can't eat them."
Lu Yun nodded. "It would break the rules."
Nobles and commoners didn't share tables, and the same applied to food. Xu Qiaoxi could have the sugar-pickled crabs because she was the young mistress of Red Jade Terrace, but Lu Yun and Lan Yan had no such standing.
Xu Qiaoxi said, "But no one else here would know."
"Really?"
"Ah… the young master."
Xie Jilian had arrived without anyone noticing. Lu Yun and Lan Yan spotted him approaching and trembled with fright, silently thanking their stars they hadn't listened to the young mistress—otherwise they'd have been caught red-handed.
Xu Qiaoxi turned around and saw Xie Jilian smiling at her with a teasing look, as if to say "Let's see what mischief she's up to."
"Six crabs, and they're that big—I can't possibly finish them all. Why can't I share them?"
Xie Jilian took a seat across from her, the smile at his lips deepening.
"Pickled crabs weren't meant for Qiaoxi to devour in one sitting."
His tone was like coaxing a child, and he finished with a soft laugh, shoulders trembling slightly.
Indeed—who ever finished a batch of pickled goods all at once? They were meant to be stored and consumed bit by bit.
But Xu Qiaoxi had been fortunate in friendship her whole life. Even after starting university, her roommates—hailing from all corners of the country—shared bonds that ran deep. If anyone had something delicious, everyone would gather in a circle to share: watermelon in summer, chicken hotpot in winter, hometown specialties brought from home… There was nothing a group of spirited young women couldn't finish together.
She wasn't used to dividing people into nobles and commoners, and that was something Xu Qiaoxi would never "get used to" in her lifetime.
Turning her head to stare at the brilliant golden chrysanthemums, Xu Qiaoxi ignored Xie Jilian.
"With everyday snacks, vegetables, beef, mutton, chicken, and duck—you're free to share them with whoever you like. But some things bear the seal of the noble houses, and they can't be casually given away."
Xie Jilian waved his hand to dismiss Lan Yan and Lu Yun, then picked up his chopsticks and returned the sugar-pickled crabs to the small jar, leaving just one on the plate.
He rose, washed his hands in the bronze basin carved with fish patterns nearby, dried them carefully with a silk-cotton handkerchief, and returned to the table. With his left hand gripping the crab's belly and shell, his right hand deftly snapped off the legs.
Xie Jilian handled the crab with practiced ease—more elegant than when he played the zither. In the blink of an eye, the crab was dismantled and its meat extracted, golden roe and white flesh gathered into the shell.
He offered it to Xu Qiaoxi, who was watching with eager eyes—but his outstretched hand suddenly paused.
"Crab is cold-natured. Does it conflict with the medicine you're taking?"
"Huh? It should be fine… I'm all recovered now."
The shell piled high with roe and meat was mercilessly withdrawn from before Xu Qiaoxi's eyes.
"How can you be careless with matters of the body?"
Xie Jilian's eyes were full of earnest concern, and he shook his head with some regret. "Wait until you're a bit more stable. Lian will eat this crab for you."
He picked up the silver chopsticks, unhurriedly lifting the crab meat to his mouth, his features softening into an expression of pure enjoyment.
Xu Qiaoxi's teeth chattered with frustration and craving.
It was all Lan Yan's fault for describing how the crab was made! Now her mind was consumed with curiosity about its flavor, tormenting her like a cat scratching at her heart—and now this…
For someone like Xu Qiaoxi, whose hobby outside class was checking off new restaurants and street stalls near her school, seeing food she couldn't eat only stoked her fury. She even suspected Xie Jilian was doing it on purpose.
Fuming, she swallowed her saliva and plucked at the chrysanthemum petals one by one.
Suddenly, the gleaming silver chopsticks extended to her lips. Xu Qiaoxi froze, caught a whiff of sweet fragrance, and opened her mouth without thinking.
The motion was so fluid, so natural, that she didn't even register that they were Xie Jilian's chopsticks.
She was startled and bewildered, angry at herself for being so presumptuous, her mind a muddle—but the exquisite taste on her tongue swept over everything like a tidal wave.
All her frustration and shock were cast aside. Xu Qiaoxi's eyes sparkled. "Delicious!!"
Xie Jilian watched her with a smile, indulgent yet helpless. "Just this little bit."
No matter how delicious, the cool crab meat vanished the moment she pressed it to her palate, leaving only a faint trace of sweet, savory, salty, and spicy lingering wistfully in her mouth.
Xu Qiaoxi's brightened expression drooped, like a lamp switched off, the whole person dimming.
Xie Jilian continued eating the crab meat bite by bite, his lowered gaze serious—but hearing Xu Qiaoxi sigh softly every now and then, or ask whether she couldn't have just a fingernail-sized piece more, the smile at his lips never faded.
This was the pleasure of the noble class.
Dangle a bit of bait—cast it toward the palate, or cast it toward the heart—and tug at it from time to time. The fish would chase it and leap from the water.
It was a very entertaining game. Only, the bait couldn't be given in excess, or it would lose its power.
The art of the aristocracy lies in the balance between giving and withholding.
Xu Qiaoxi's body had recovered over another two months, and the imperial physicians confirmed there was absolutely no problem left, yet Xie Jilian remained uneasy.
Although the plague in Luoyang had gradually subsided under the court's control, he worried that Xu Qiaoxi might run outside to play and accidentally catch the illness. So throughout the entire autumn, Xu Qiaoxi did not leave the Red Jade Terrace even half a step.
By the time she finished counting and eating the last sugar-pickled crab, the season had already drawn near the year's end, and snow flew across all of Luoyang.
Lan Yan cut red paper by the window in the snowlight, pasting it onto the narcissus flowers. Lu Yun used small charcoal tongs to poke at the ash, making the newly added silver-thread charcoal burn more vigorously.
Crackling sounds rose from the filigree brazier. Lu Yun crouched down, carefully picking out the peanuts she had tossed in not long ago, cooling them on a handkerchief, then wiping them clean.
Roasted peanut shells were very brittle—one squeeze and they split open, the red skins crumbling along with them. Lu Yun placed a small handful of peanut kernels beside Lan Yan's narcissus, then pinched the rest and put them in Xu Qiaoxi's hand.
"Don't make such a sour face. Eat some peanuts."
Xu Qiaoxi lay sprawled on the small couch, utterly dejected.
The people Xie Jilian had sent to seek immortals and inquire about the Dao had all returned one by one. Xu Qiaoxi pulled each of them aside to question them thoroughly, but their answers were all the same—they had never heard of anything like transmigration, and no one knew how to set things right if time had become disordered.
She had actually already prepared herself for the hopelessness of returning, but hearing their answers, her heart still felt as if it had been soaked in cold water.
"Don't want peanuts? But the sugar-pickled crabs are all gone…"
Lu Yun recalled the sugar-pickled crabs, still savoring the memory.
Xu Qiaoxi paid no heed to the rules of noble and commoner—when eating crab, she stubbornly insisted on sharing with Lu Yun and Lan Yan. They tried to refuse but couldn't, and in the end, with tacit understanding, they silently ate their portions.
"I'm not craving crabs."
Xu Qiaoxi sat up, the rabbit-fur collar brushing against her cheeks, making the melancholy on her round face look almost endearing.
She popped peanut kernels into her mouth one by one, chewing without tasting anything, her mind a complete blank.
Lu Yun and Lan Yan knew nothing of the agreement between her and Xie Jilian, and naturally did not know that in a few more months she would leave this place.
If she couldn't find a way back, then she still had to find a way to survive in this world.
These days at the Red Jade Terrace had been comfortable and peaceful. Sometimes she even felt that Luoyang was a very dangerous place—that the moment she stepped outside, something bad would happen.
She herself didn't know where this inexplicable fear came from. In truth, she had never truly gotten to know Luoyang on her own.
Was this capital city good or bad? What were the people outside like…? Xu Qiaoxi gloomily realized that over this past year, she had lived like a flower in a greenhouse, protected under a glass dome, knowing nothing at all.
"Lu Yun, when will the young master return?" she asked softly.
Lu Yun thought for a moment. "The new year is approaching now, and the palace is busy. Usually at times like this, there's no telling whether the young master can come back."
Temple sacrifices, court assemblies, holiday greetings and social obligations… Xu Qiaoxi gave it a brief thought—Xie Jilian truly had been stretched thin these days.
Whether it was the fledgling instinct or his patient companionship during her illness in late summer, whenever Xu Qiaoxi felt lost, she always felt that just seeing Xie Jilian would make things better.
As long as he was there, she could slack off with an easy conscience.
The peanuts were finished. Xu Qiaoxi patted the crumbs from her palms, hopped off the small couch, and trotted over to Lan Yan.
"I'll help you wrap the red paper."
Lan Yan lifted her gaze from the scissors, glanced at her, and couldn't help but laugh. "You're as restless as a monkey. How can a young mistress be grabbing work from us servants every single day?"
Xu Qiaoxi picked up the red paper and paste, mimicking Lan Yan's technique to wrap the narcissus bulbs and stems.
"If one day I'm no longer the young mistress, will you still remember me?"
Lan Yan and Lu Yun exchanged a glance, thinking Xu Qiaoxi was spouting her usual strange nonsense, and both chuckled.
"Is the young master not good enough to you? Why would you worry about falling out of favor?"
"That's not what I mean! Ugh…"
Xu Qiaoxi wanted to explain, but it was as if all the paste on the table had been poured into her mouth—she couldn't get a single word out.
In the evening, snow fell heavily, the sky dimmed, and countless snowflakes like flying insects swirled messily into people's faces.
A young servant boy at the Red Jade Terrace claimed he could make ice lanterns. He had frozen a small bucket of water under the eaves, and now it was about time to take it out and place a candle inside. Xu Qiaoxi and the other two gathered around the boy, watching him make the lantern.
Suddenly, from not far away, faint words of blessing drifted over.
"May the young master enjoy health and long life, and may a hundred blessings come to you."
Xu Qiaoxi looked up from under the eaves, turning toward the source of the voice.
Through the hazy snow, Xie Jilian walked forward step by step, draped in a fox-fur cloak, with Yu Pu behind him holding an umbrella to shield him from the snow.
"It's freezing cold—why is everyone outside?"
Bits of snow had landed on Xu Qiaoxi's brow and eyelashes, cool to the touch.
"A'Fu is making us ice lanterns."
Xie Jilian came under the eaves, his fingertips gently brushing the snowflakes from Xu Qiaoxi's face, the back of his fingers grazing her cheek.
"Still, you can't be out here braving the snow. Look, your face is frozen."
At this, Xu Qiaoxi rubbed her face with both hands, startling even herself when her palms first touched her cheeks.
They were indeed icy cold.
"If you fall ill at this time of year, how can Lian still play the zither for you through the night?" Xie Jilian tapped Xu Qiaoxi's brow with his fingertip, chiding her for her lack of conscience. "Are you truly not afraid that Lian might freeze to death?"
Xu Qiaoxi covered her forehead. Perhaps it was because she had rubbed too hard just now, but her cheeks felt a little hot.
"I'm not…"
A'Fu held the ice lantern aloft with both hands, looking deeply apologetic. "It is this servant's fault. I should not have let the young mistress catch a chill here. I should have finished making it and delivered it directly."
Xie Jilian smiled faintly. "The young mistress enjoys watching you craft the lanterns, so consider that a merit on your part. This year's New Year's blessing money will be doubled for you."
He turned his gaze, and Yu Pu, receiving the silent signal, immediately led A'Fu away. Xie Jilian supported Xu Qiaoxi by her forearm and guided her into the house.
"Tonight is the vigil night. In the past, Lian always kept the vigil together with Father. But this year, because you are here, Lian hurried back—to try keeping the vigil at his own residence for once."
"But today isn't New Year's Eve."
Xu Qiaoxi was firmly convinced that although she lived in a kind of vacuum, she could never miscount the days.
Xie Jilian laughed. "Indeed, it is not New Year's Eve. It's just that on New Year's Eve itself, all capital officials must enter the palace to keep vigil for the Son of Heaven, and are not permitted to spend it at home. So each household sets its own day for the vigil—some hold it before New Year's Eve, others after the first day of the new year."
He unfastened his fox-fur cloak and stepped over to sit on the small daybed where Xu Qiaoxi had sprawled during the day.
Xu Qiaoxi wanted to ask if he had eaten anything, but then suddenly remembered that today was the day for his medication.
She got up and fetched the small porcelain jar. The medicinal powder was nearly at the bottom, and Xu Qiaoxi froze for a moment when she scooped it out.
How had time passed so quickly?
"Ah—" She stood before the daybed and told Xie Jilian to open his mouth.
He complied readily, parting his lips.
The small bamboo spoon reached his teeth. She had done this many times now, yet Xie Jilian could still see the earnestness in her expression.
Exposing his bad tooth to her—Xie Jilian had never been entirely willing to do so, but…
Looking down at her from above, this angle truly suited Xu Qiaoxi perfectly.
Her lightly furrowed brows, her trembling lashes, the bright, moist gleam of her eyes, and lower—the delicate tip of her nose, the petal-like curve of her lips.
Everything carried a hazy innocence and persistence.
No matter how close he usually walked beside her, he never had the chance to look at her like this.
The bamboo spoon touched the side of his tongue, and Xie Jilian let out a soft hum.
Xu Qiaoxi immediately stopped her hand and looked at him anxiously. "Does it hurt?"
It was precisely this expression.
It was for the sake of this kind of concern that he was willing to expose his hidden affliction.
Xie Jilian shook his head, then reached out to tug at Xu Qiaoxi's sleeve, drawing her a step closer—to make it easier to continue applying the medicine.
And to make it easier for him to look at her more closely.
To look at the skin at the tail of her brow, faintly reddened by the stray snowflakes, to look at the soft fuzz on her cheeks in the candlelight.
The water clock dripped on. After the medicine was applied, Xie Jilian told her about the tedious New Year's court rituals, and Xu Qiaoxi propped her chin on her hand, listening—utterly enlightened.
So capital officials had to remain in the palace from New Year's Eve onward, and could only take turns returning home to celebrate after the second day of the new year.
"Have you all arranged your rotation schedule for this year yet?"
Xie Jilian shook his head. "We'll likely only know the day after tomorrow."
Xu Qiaoxi lowered her hands, tracing the carved marks on the low table with her fingers, hesitating:
"Lingjia, do you still remember the one-year agreement between us?"
"Lian was just about to bring that up with you."
Xu Qiaoxi's breath caught. She hadn't expected him to be thinking about it too.
"The world is treacherous these days. You are a young woman with no parents or brothers, no friends or kin. Lian cannot rest easy letting you leave."
"If Qiaoxi is willing, you may stay at Red Jade Terrace for as long as you like."
The glass lamp stand glowed with bright candlelight. The narcissus on the table was wrapped in red silk, its white petals and yellow stamens appearing elegant and warm beneath the hazy lamplight.
Xie Jilian looked at her through the flowers, his tender brows and eyes separated by the twisting shadows of the blossoms. She saw his long, slender lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes, his pupils like a pair of waterfowl poised for flight.
Quiet, yet lurking.
It took Xu Qiaoxi a long while to hear her own faint, rustling breath again.
Then, at that very moment, the most important water clock of the hour sounded.
Xie Jilian glanced over to confirm the time, then turned back with a gentle smile. "Qiaoxi, may you enjoy fortune, health, and peace—and may every year bring you safety."
Xu Qiaoxi blinked, the joy on her face soft and unhurried.
"Happy New Year."
She offered a greeting that was unfamiliar to Xie Jilian, but he understood it.
"May I ask you for a New Year's gift?"
"What is it? If Lian can obtain it, he will surely agree."
Xu Qiaoxi said, "It's a wish, but I haven't thought of it yet. Could I tell you after your rotation break?"
Xie Jilian knew she always had a mind of her own. He curved his lips in a smile and agreed readily.
His smile was extraordinarily beautiful. Xu Qiaoxi asked herself honestly—Xie Jilian was the most beautiful, most beautiful person she had ever seen. That time she had said Wang Yizhi was his equal, but in her heart, she was still a little partial to Xie Jilian.
But if she stayed at Red Jade Terrace for the rest of her life, that would mean willingly tying her own head to Xie Jilian's belt.
And if one day she made him angry, would she have to beg him to help piece together her corpse at the mass grave?
At that thought, her partiality vanished like smoke.