Five taels for the selling contract, two taels for three years of food and lodging—Shen Xihe could hardly imagine that Gu Xiao wrote this. How could it be?
His hand holding the slip of paper trembled slightly, his mind in chaos. The selling price was indeed five taels. Three years ago, Madam Zhou had given the Gu family five taels of silver and taken Gu Xiao back with her.
It was true that Gu Xiao had stayed in the Gu household for three years.
Food, fans—what were these? She had saved one tael, nine qian, and thirty-one wen. She…
Shen Xihe glanced again at the person lying on the bed. His throat felt blocked, as though something was stuck there, making it hard even to breathe.
In a daze, Shen Xihe suddenly understood. Gu Xiao had been saving money—she wanted to give it to the Shen family. The selling contract had been paid, the food and lodging accounted for, and from then on, there would be no ties left. Otherwise, why would she write all this?
The wind outside blew in, chilling Shen Xihe’s head. The slip of paper in his hand fluttered with the draft. He lowered his head, bitterness filling his mouth. If Gu Xiao were to wake now, she would see him holding the paper.
Shen Xihe pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to ease the bitterness. Even though his heart was in turmoil, he knew he must not let Gu Xiao see. If she saw him holding the slip, everything would be ruined. He took a deep breath and tucked the paper back where it had been.
The wind outside grew stronger, turning into a storm before he realized it. Shen Xihe looked once more at Gu Xiao, then rose to close the window.
The sky outside was not black but gray. By late April, the willow branches had already sprouted, yet the wind tore away many of their leaves. Shen Xihe stood at the window for a while, then reached out to shut the shutters. Thus, the room was plunged into darkness.
He could not understand—why did Gu Xiao want to leave? She clearly liked him, clearly called him “husband” with joy, clearly thought of him in everything, urged him to pursue scholarly honors, even prepared a birthday gift, planning a surprise for him. Could it be that all of it was fake?
A clap of thunder sounded outside, followed quickly by the patter of raindrops hitting the ground.
It was raining.
Lightning flashed through the paper windows, illuminating the room for an instant. Shen Xihe moved his fingers, then finally stood up and walked to the bedside to tuck Gu Xiao’s quilt more securely around her.
Even in her sleep, Gu Xiao’s brows were furrowed, clearly in great discomfort.
Shen Xihe whispered softly: “If you’re suffering, I’m suffering too.”
Gu Xiao’s brows twitched slightly, and Shen Xihe’s heart leaped into his throat. He sat in anxious suspense for a long while, but Gu Xiao showed no sign of waking. Only then did he let out a breath.
Sitting by the bed, Shen Xihe felt a surge of frustration. He wasn’t the one secretly saving money, nor the one planning to leave in secret. So why was he so anxious? What was he afraid of? He gave a self-mocking laugh.
Exactly. What am I afraid of? Am I afraid she won’t be able to leave?
Shen Xihe: “…”
He returned to the couch and pressed his fingers against his brow. Gu Xiao had saved one tael and nine qian, but she was still short of five taels. This was something his mother must never find out. If she did…
The consequences would be unimaginable. The Shen family did not allow private savings. If discovered, punishment would be the least of it—there was no telling if she might even be driven out.
Outside, the rain grew heavier, yet Shen Xihe’s heart grew calmer. Still short of more than five taels of silver. He sat on the couch for a while longer, then another thought struck him: copying a book earned him barely twenty-some wen. How had Gu Xiao managed to save so much?
The small couch was narrow, hollow underneath, supported by four legs.
Shen Xihe crouched down and glanced beneath it. That glance was enough—there were indeed quite a few things inside: bits of wood, bamboo tubes, papers of all shapes.
“…”
Hidden like this, anyone who crouched down could see them, and with just a reach of the hand, could touch them. Did Gu Xiao really think everyone was her height—that if she couldn’t reach a place, no one else could either?
Shen Xihe felt a surge of irritation. It was one thing to discover these, but now he had to clean up after her! Truly, utterly unreasonable.
Pressing his lips together, Shen Xihe pushed the items further in, then lay back down on the couch. Outside, the rain crackled noisily. At this hour he would usually be reading, but now he couldn’t.
It was still early. Gu Xiao hadn’t eaten yet. Her stomach hurt, and now she was probably both hungry and in pain.
Shen Xihe sat up, then lay down again. Why bother? If she wanted to leave, let her leave. Why bother?
After a while, the door to the west room opened and closed softly. Shen Xihe washed the small bowl of rice Madam Zhou had left outside, then used a clay pot to cook porridge. He would take care of her this one time.
It wasn’t that he feared Gu Xiao leaving—someone who wanted to go could never be kept. But the thought that someday Gu Xiao might be somewhere else, calling another man “husband” or “brother,” Shen Xihe just—
A man should be forthright, daring to face things head-on. What was there to be afraid of, what was there he couldn’t admit? So what if he feared Gu Xiao leaving!
Shen Xihe thought stubbornly: if he devoted himself wholeheartedly to treating Gu Xiao well, surely she wouldn’t leave. But what if Gu Xiao still wanted to leave?
Shen Xihe told himself: impossible. Gu Xiao wouldn’t.
The rice in the clay pot had boiled open. Shen Xihe ladled out a bowl, then thought for a moment and fetched a spoon.
Gu Xiao hadn’t woken yet. Shen Xihe reached out to touch her forehead—slightly cool, the sweat had subsided, her brows had relaxed. She probably wasn’t in pain anymore, though her lips were a little dry.
Outside, wind and rain clashed, the lamp flame flickering inside.
“Xiao Xiao…” Shen Xihe called softly.
Gu Xiao turned over. She had truly never hurt this much before. Even eating ice treats had never caused pain, but now it was agony, life and death. At last the worst had passed, though a dull ache still lingered in her lower belly. Half-conscious, she opened her eyes. “Shen Xihe?”
Shen Xihe froze for a moment. “It’s me.” For a while, he didn’t know what to say. After a pause, he murmured: “The sky’s already dark, it’s raining outside. I cooked porridge. You should drink some.”
A simple bowl of plain white porridge, steaming hot, fragrant with rice.
Gu Xiao hadn’t eaten dinner, and at noon she’d eaten little because of the pain. Now she was already hungry. That Shen Xihe had cooked porridge for her—well, it wasn’t in vain that she had earned money to buy meat and make him midnight snacks.
Gu Xiao forced a faint smile. “Thank you.” She reached to take the bowl herself, but Shen Xihe pulled back slightly. “You’re not feeling well, you don’t have the strength. I’ll feed you.”
“…”
Gu Xiao’s stomach pain had eased; it wasn’t so bad that she couldn’t even lift a bowl. “I’m fine now, much better already.”
“I’ll feed you.” Shen Xihe couldn’t tell if what he felt was more anger or something else. Gu Xiao refused his help, so he insisted, “Open your mouth.”
She had her own hands—what was wrong with him? He used to make her leave the room when he changed clothes, and now he wanted to feed her porridge?
Gu Xiao glanced at him twice, then opened her mouth and drank.
It was just plain rice porridge, nothing special in taste, but warm. Shen Xihe scooped a spoonful, blew on it, and only when it had cooled did he feed her.
Back and forth, spoon by spoon, until the small bowl was finished.
“I’ll get another bowl,” Shen Xihe said, rising.
Gu Xiao replied, “I’m full. Don’t you still need to study tonight? You eat.”
At least she remembered he had to read. Shen Xihe held the bowl and gave her a sidelong look. “It’s raining; I won’t read. You should sleep first.”
Gu Xiao clutched the quilt and drew a deep breath. She didn’t know if the original body had ever suffered this before, but if the pain kept coming like this, it would be unbearable. She blinked hard at the candlelight on the table. Lowering her head, she realized she was lying on the bed. Thankfully, nothing was stained. But hadn’t she been sleeping on the narrow couch? How had she ended up here?
Shen Xihe came in with the bowl, stirring the porridge with the spoon.
Gu Xiao tugged at the quilt, asking casually, “Um… why am I on the bed?”
Shen Xihe set the bowl down. “What’s wrong with being on the bed?”
She thought back—whenever Shen Xihe returned, she always slept on the couch. “Wasn’t I on the couch? How did I end up on the bed…”
“There are only the two of us in this room. You were on the couch. How else would you get to the bed? Still can’t figure it out?”
Gu Xiao shook her head. Surely she hadn’t crawled over in her sleep—it couldn’t be that Shen Xihe had carried her there.
Shen Xihe said, “Of course I carried you. Did you walk over yourself while asleep? You had to ask… does knowing make you feel better?”
So he had carried her. Gu Xiao thought for a moment, then said, “I can sleep on the couch.”
“No need.” Shen Xihe’s voice was firm. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I only come back once every five days, and stay one night at home. From now on, you sleep in the bed.”
He had promised to treat her well—how could he still let her sleep on that narrow couch? Besides, the bed was larger, with more space beneath.
“I’ll always sleep on the couch from now on. Do you understand?” Shen Xihe added. Don’t hide things under the couch anymore—move them out.
Gu Xiao murmured an “oh.” Shen Xihe pressed, “Go to sleep now.” If she stayed awake, his thoughts grew restless.
But Gu Xiao wasn’t the least bit sleepy. Outside, wind and rain tangled together; inside, wrapped in her quilt, she felt unusually safe.
“It’s raining. I wonder if it’ll stop by morning,” she whispered. “If it keeps pouring, how will you get to the academy?”
Shen Xihe took a sip of porridge, uneasy. “Don’t worry. I have a rain cape—I won’t get soaked.”
She was planning to leave, yet still worried about him.
Gu Xiao tucked herself deeper under the quilt. “Then be careful on the road tomorrow. There’s another quilt in the cabinet. I’ll sleep now.”
Shen Xihe set the spoon in the bowl and rubbed his chest. That was it? Just two sentences and she stopped?
“Xiao Xiao…” His throat was raw.
“Mm?”
“Does it still hurt? Your stomach?”
“Brown sugar ginger tea works wonders. I’m fine now. Thank you for today.” Gu Xiao was genuinely grateful—without him fetching water and cooking porridge, she might still be in pain.
Shen Xihe thought of the old master, of Madam Zhou, of his elder brothers and their wives. Would any of them ever say thank you? No.
“…”
Gu Xiao only heard him mutter through clenched teeth, “No need.”
After a while she drifted off. Shen Xihe finished the porridge, washed the bowl, lay down on the couch—and couldn’t sleep at all.
How long had Gu Xiao been saving that money? If three years, then another five taels would take over six. But she’d started buying meat just a month ago—perhaps those two taels had been saved in a single month. At that rate, five taels could be gathered in two. The thought kept him awake all night. By morning he was drained.
Rain still fell outside, turning the village paths into mud. Madam Zhou fretted over her son. “Why today of all days, it had to rain.”
Shen Xihe said, “It’s fine. Plenty of people on the road. Don’t worry, Mother.”
“How can I not worry? Rain makes the roads slippery…” she fussed. “If it’s still raining at noon, eat at the academy. I don’t know if your sister‑in‑law will even set up her stall…”
Trying to earn money like that, braving heavy rain.
Shen Xihe nodded. “No telling when it will stop. With so much rain, the canals will need repair—labor duty will likely be called in the next few days.”
“This year your elder brother will go. Bring extra dry rations. It’s nothing serious, don’t worry,” Madam Zhou said. “Just focus on your studies. Only if you make a name for yourself will life truly improve.”
Shen Xihe had passed the xiucai exam, so he was exempt from corvée labor. Others, if they wished to avoid service, had to pay one tael of silver. Truly, studying was useful.
Shen Xihe nodded. Years of bitter study by the cold window were meant to bring honor to the family. He drifted off for a moment, then quickly came back to himself. “Mother, I’ll go back to my room for my clothes—I’m heading to the academy now.”
Madam Zhou said, “So early?”
“Mm. The earlier I go, the more I can read.” Shen Xihe returned to the west room. His mended clothes were folded in the cabinet, the patched spots embroidered with three bamboo leaves. He couldn’t resist stepping to the bedside. His hand brushed Gu Xiao’s face—perhaps it touched, perhaps it didn’t. She stirred, and he quickly hid his hand behind his back.
Gu Xiao woke and rubbed her eyes. The sky was dim and heavy. She looked at Shen Xihe. “You’re leaving?”
Shen Xihe: “Mm.”
He would return in five days—on his birthday, in fact. He remembered how, before, Gu Xiao had been reluctant to see him go. This time, just one sentence. Truly, someone eager to leave would never care when he departed.
“The rain outside is heavy, the road hard to walk. I’ll go early,” Shen Xihe said, waiting for her reply.
Gu Xiao said, “Then be careful.”
Just that. Shen Xihe wanted to ask—was that all? When he wasn’t home, she called him husband, did this and that for him. But when he was here…
He wanted to ask if she had ever truly looked forward to his return. But he couldn’t. What if she answered yes?
The road was full of puddles, hard to walk. Few ventured out in the rain. Second Brother didn’t set up his stall. Madam Chen looked out several times, saw the rain still pouring, and gave up the thought of selling.
Gu Xiao’s stomach was much better. She stayed inside pasting paper on umbrella frames. Rain pattered endlessly outside. By now Shen Xihe should have reached the academy. If the rain didn’t stop, how could she deliver the umbrella? More than anyone, Gu Xiao longed for the rain to cease.
Everything must be in balance. Rain nourishes seedlings, but too much brings floods and disaster. That evening, officials in Shangyang village went door to door, speaking of labor service.
“One man per household, for more than a month, at the Mian River near Guangning County. Depends when the rain stops—prepare yourselves first. If you don’t want to serve, pay one tael of silver.” The village head, nearly fifty, still strong, explained. He thought the Shen family had earned plenty these days, all going to town to sell goods. Perhaps they’d rather pay.
Old Master Shen said, “Where would we get spare silver? We’ll go.”
The headman chuckled, “Brother Shen, you’re too modest. Everyone knows your family is doing well now.”
Madam Zhou’s face chilled, but for propriety’s sake she held her tongue.
Old Master Shen brushed it off. “What’s ‘doing well’? We’re still scraping in the fields. The whole family supports one scholar—we barely have enough to eat.”
“Ah, isn’t that the way? My grandson is younger than Third Brother. Next year I’ll have him sit the exam…”
After the headman left, Eldest Brother went to his workshop. He was used to labor, so service was nothing new. But Madam Chen, distressed, sold all the nets she had woven, saving sixty coins of private money.
Eldest Brother said, “Mother prepared plenty of rations for me. You don’t need to. Keep the money for Third Brother’s studies.”
Madam Chen counted her coins happily, but at his words her face darkened. “Everything for Third Brother! You’re the elder brother, not his father. Don’t you think—you have two sons of your own!”
“Mother will arrange their marriages. Why worry?” Eldest Brother was taciturn, often sitting in his workshop half a day at a time.
Madam Chen sneered, “Not worry… ha! Three main rooms, three side rooms. When Da Wa marries, where will he live? All of us crammed together?”
“What are you saying…”
“What’s wrong with me!” Her brows arched. “And Er Ya—if you don’t care, I do.”
“How can you say I don’t care? This family’s future depends on Third Brother.”
Madam Chen also blamed her two sons for not striving. If they had studied, wouldn’t they be at the academy too? Her face hardened. “Depend on Third Brother? Better to depend on Xiao Xiao!”
Eldest Brother frowned. “What kind of talk is that?”
Madam Chen didn’t want to bother with him. “You’d better listen carefully. The money I earn from weaving knots—if you dare tell Mother about it, I won’t let you off.” She could weave six or seven a day, and Er Ya could do it too. It earned no less than selling pancakes.
Eldest Brother muttered, “How would I dare?”
Madam Chen tucked the money away. She needed to buy medicine and food. A month or so of service, and he’d be back soon enough.
The rain fell for three days before finally stopping. Eldest Brother shouldered his bundle and went with the other villagers to Mian River for labor duty.
Though Madam Chen hated to see him go, she steadied herself, tended the vegetable garden, cleaned the house, and prepared to set up a stall at the academy gate.
Gu Xiao finished her second umbrella. Seventy‑two bamboo ribs, sturdy yet light, with both handle and frame made of bamboo. The canopy was painted with lush orchids—since it was meant for noble ladies, she painted plenty of flowers. She packed the two umbrellas into a bamboo basket and carried them to the county town.
Manager Zhang had been waiting a long time.
Three days of rain—at first it seemed poetic, but as it dragged on, it became nothing but vexing.
Irritated as he was, Manager Zhang couldn’t help wondering how Gu Xiao’s umbrellas had turned out. In this weather, umbrellas were exactly what would sell.
Gu Xiao bowed politely. “The rain kept me from coming sooner. Now that it’s stopped, I hurried over.”
“No matter, miss. Have you finished the umbrellas?” Manager Zhang’s eyes darted to the bamboo basket on her back, itching to peek inside.
Gu Xiao nodded. “Yes, they’re done—and I’ve made three folding fans as well.”
She set down the basket and drew out an umbrella: misty rain painted across the canopy, orchids delicately traced along the bamboo handle and from the handle hung a dark‑green *ruyi* knot. If the lady carrying it walked with graceful steps, the tassel would sway gently with her movement.
Manager Zhang sighed. “Exquisite.” He opened one with a snap. Studying the ribs and canopy, he said, “Truly seventy‑two ribs. The oil‑paper umbrellas on the street have only twenty‑eight. No wonder they’re neither as sturdy nor as beautiful.” He was already thinking of sending them to Shengjing quickly, to sell them sooner. Setting the umbrella down, he drew two taels of silver from his purse. “This is the deposit.”
“Manager Zhang, this…” Gu Xiao hesitated. Without him, her fans and umbrellas would never fetch such prices. She could wait a month—there was no need for a deposit.
“Miss, the deposit is proper. That’s how business works. Once the umbrellas sell, we’ll see how much more you earn.” Manager Zhang loved fine craftsmanship, and Gu Xiao could make delicate treasures.
If business was to last, sincerity came first. Shengjing’s nobles bought only the best—if it wasn’t rare, how would they look at it?
He thought, if all went well, future dealings with Gu Xiao could be on a profit‑sharing basis.
Gu Xiao accepted the silver, saying earnestly, “Thank you, Manager Zhang.”
He shook his head. “Let me see the fans.”
Gu Xiao had made several fans these past days. Aside from the birthday gift prepared for Shen Xihe, the remaining three were here.
Two were ordinary folding fans: one with a handle carved like tree branches and a face painted with birds, the other left blank for calligraphy.
The last was the most remarkable. Its face was not paper—or rather, it had no face at all. The ribs were carved so thin they formed a lattice of patterns, bound with fine white thread. When opened, it revealed a scene: a beauty holding a palace lantern. Her brows lowered, her slender fingers lifted the lamp, its tassels pale yellow. Clearly not meant for a young gentleman, but for a refined lady.
Manager Zhang had never seen such a fan. Even in Shengjing, there was nothing like it—it was unique.
Gu Xiao said, “If strung with silk thread, it would be even subtler, half‑hidden, half‑seen.”
“This is already perfect. Very well, Miss Gu—the fans will go with the umbrellas to Shengjing. Once sold, we’ll settle your earnings.”
“All at your discretion, Manager Zhang.” Gu Xiao felt certain this time she could save seven taels of silver, perhaps more—enough to rent a house.
Manager Zhang priced the two ordinary fans: three hundred coins for one, two hundred for the other. For the carved lattice fan, he gave half a tael as deposit. Altogether, Gu Xiao now held three taels of silver in her hand.
That was three taels of silver—nearly five in total. Even Madam Zhou might not have that much on hand.
Gu Xiao bought two pigments, lake‑blue and indigo. Paint was costly; with a stack of paper added, she spent more than half a tael. Umbrellas could be made slowly. Summer was coming, and fans—folding fans, round fans, brocade fans—would be in greatest demand.
But Gu Xiao couldn’t afford silk, so she couldn’t make brocade fans. There were other things she could craft: revolving lanterns, brush racks, brush holders—all could be sold. She went to the cloth shop and bought a bundle of fabric scraps. Her eyes lingered on the fine silk bolts. “How much is this?”
She had been to the shop often—selling nets, selling handkerchiefs, buying thread—so the owner knew her. “Ten taels a bolt.”
Gu Xiao fell silent. “Then I’ll take three feet of cotton cloth, and half a pound of cotton.”
One day she would afford silk and satin.
Of the silver, more than half was gone. She set aside a hundred coins to round out the sum, leaving four taels saved. With another hundred coins to spend, she bought five feet of pale‑green fine cloth—something Madam Zhou could wear, and Shen Xihe too. Leaving the shop, she carried her purchases back to the Shen household. But once she was gone, two figures slipped after her, trailing at a distance all the way to the city gate.
“Mother, isn’t that Gu Xiao, that wretched girl!” The speaker wore a deep‑blue robe, a crown on his head. His brows were furrowed, three deep lines across his forehead, eyes swollen and bloodshot.
Beside him stood a thin woman, her eyes reddening as she watched Gu Xiao’s back. They were none other than Gu Xiao’s mother, Madam Zhao, and her elder brother, Gu Chengyuan.
Madam Zhao tugged at his sleeve. “No, you’re mistaken.”
Gu Chengyuan shook his head. “Impossible. That’s Gu Xiao. How could she be buying so much?”
Madam Zhao’s body trembled. “Chengyuan, that really isn’t her. It’s been three years. I’ve forgotten what she looks like.”
Gu Chengyuan snorted. “Why are you crying? I didn’t say I’d do anything. She’s my sister. I’ll tell Grandmother when I get back.” He brushed Madam Zhao aside, muttering as he walked, “How does she have money now? I’m her brother…”
Madam Zhao stumbled when she was brushed aside. She wiped her eyes and hurried after him.
The Gu family lived in Ninghai Village, west of Guangning. Three years ago, the old madam, Madam Bai, had sold Gu Xiao for five taels of silver to marry off her grandson—a story nearly everyone knew. Once a contract of sale was signed, it was a clean break, no ties left. But Gu Chengyuan stroked his chin. A clean break wasn’t so clean—relatives were meant to keep in touch.
Madam Zhao’s voice choked. “What more do you want? After all this, what more could you want…”
Gu Chengyuan said, “Mother, the conscription order has come. Do you want me to suffer and toil? Or do you still think of her as your daughter? Does she think of you as her mother? It’s been three years—she’s never once sought you out.”
Madam Zhao opened her mouth, then turned her gaze away.
Gu Xiao knew nothing of this. She returned home, first setting the cotton cloth and cotton in the west room, then carrying the pale‑green fabric to Madam Zhou.
“Mother, I bought five feet of cloth. Do you think it will do for making clothes?”
Madam Zhou immediately knew Gu Xiao had spent money again. “The clothes are fine as they are. Why buy cloth? Third Brother’s clothes have the fewest patches—he can wear them for a long time yet.”
Gu Xiao said, “I thought this color would suit you, so I bought it. Pale green—look.”
Madam Zhou froze. “This is for me?”
“Yes.” Gu Xiao shook the cloth open. Five feet—more than a meter and a half—enough for a full outfit, with some left over.
Madam Zhou sat on the kang, touched the fine fabric. “Why should I wear such good cloth? Save it for Third Brother’s clothes.”
Gu Xiao said, “Husband doesn’t lack clothes. I’ve mended all the worn spots. This cloth is for you. If we need more for him, I’ll save up again.”
She thought her words were well chosen—making clear the cloth was for Madam Zhou, not Shen Xihe, while hinting she had no money left and would need to save again.
Madam Zhou turned the cloth over and over. “Why buy this, wasting money. Always spending foolishly.” She still couldn’t bear to make clothes for herself. Only after Gu Xiao coaxed and pleaded did she agree.
Putting the cloth away, Madam Zhou brought out thirty coins. “The day after tomorrow is Third Brother’s birthday. Buy some meat, we’ll eat together.” It had rained three days straight, no stall, no earnings. She hadn’t wanted to give so much. But with this cloth in hand, she suddenly felt generous.
Gu Xiao accepted the money. “Thank you, Mother!”
“Worth thanking, is it…” Madam Zhou pursed her lips, half smiling. Gu Xiao took the coins straight to Da Wa.
“A pound of meat, a pound of ribs, and a pig’s liver, right, Auntie?” Da Wa still remembered the stir‑fried liver—numbing, spicy, fragrant. He’d eaten two big buns with it.
That would do. Gu Xiao nodded. “Just those.”
For a birthday, six dishes would be enough: braised ribs, stir‑fried liver, pork stewed with noodles, smashed cucumber, and two more—perhaps fish from the river? But after one catch, the fish had grown wary. The second time, the net brought up nothing but grass. The net was woven from straw, already chopped up for fertilizer. Gu Xiao twisted more stalks into a new net. After several tries, she caught one fish. Over two pounds—not small. But with so many in the Shen family, one fish was hardly enough.
Gu Xiao sighed. One was better than none. She kept the fish carefully in a vat, afraid it might die before Shen Xihe returned.
On May 3rd, Shen Xihe came home from the academy for the holiday, with Second Brother and Da Ya. It had been five days since he’d seen Gu Xiao. He wasn’t being petty—but she hadn’t once come to the academy to see him.
From Da Wa’s mouth he learned: Gu Xiao had gone to the county more than once, yet three times she passed the academy without stopping to see him.
Shen Xihe took a deep breath. If she didn’t come, then she didn’t come—someone who wanted to leave would hardly care about him anyway.
Da Ya walked beside Second Brother. As a sensitive young girl, she felt that her little uncle didn’t seem very happy.
In truth, Shen Xihe was rather pleased. Angry or not, after all, she only came back once every five days, and Gu Xiao had even prepared a birthday gift for him. He just wasn’t sure if she had forgotten about it.
When they reached home, Shen Xihe lingered outside the door, hesitant to go in.
Just then, Da Wa came out of the house. “Uncle, what are you doing? Come in!”
From inside came Madam Zhou’s voice: “Third Brother, you’re back?”
Shen Xihe replied, “Mm, I’m back.”
Madam Zhou wore a light green outfit, her hair neatly oiled and pinned up with a wooden hairpin, looking clean and capable. “Good that you’re back. Go tidy yourself up.”
Shen Xihe glanced inside and asked casually, “Mother, where’s Xiao Xiao?”
Madam Zhou said, “She finished making this outfit for me yesterday. This morning she prepared lunch, and now she’s cooking fish.”
So it was new clothes. Shen Xihe looked twice—the bamboo leaves were green, the clothes were green too. Did Gu Xiao favor the color green?
After that little pang of jealousy, Shen Xihe frowned. “Fish? Where did the fish come from?”
Da Wa answered, “Caught from the river. Just one. If it weren’t for your birthday, Auntie wouldn’t have gone.”
Shen Xihe remembered telling Gu Xiao not to go near the river, and if she did, to wait until he could go with her. Clearly, she hadn’t listened.
“Next time, don’t do that. Better not eat fish at all—the river’s dangerous, and the water’s still cold. Er Ya, you keep an eye on your aunt.” Madam Zhou felt a chill of fear herself. “All right, everyone wash up. Time to eat.”
Sweet-and-sour ribs, stir-fried liver slices, pork stewed with noodles, braised fish, smashed cucumbers, and stir-fried cabbage—six dishes in all. In front of the old master Shen sat a small jar of wine.
Gu Xiao sat beside Shen Xihe and whispered, “Husband…”
His ears twitched; he turned to her. “What is it?”
“Eat more meat. I cooked it all. It’s all delicious.”
Shen Xihe said, “All right. You eat more too.”
Of course Gu Xiao would eat more. Once Madam Zhou gave the word, everyone began.
Suddenly Da Wa stood up. “Today is Little Uncle’s birthday. As your nephew, I wish you a bright future and success in the imperial exams. I’ll drink water in place of wine, and toast you!” He took a sip—after all, there was meat to eat, and water filled the stomach.
The Shen family wasn’t bound by strict rules. Da Wa’s gesture was enough.
In the end, nothing was more satisfying than big fish and meat.
Gu Xiao kept her head down, eating. The sweet-and-sour ribs had plenty of sugar and were tangy and sweet; the sauce was especially tasty. The ribs were sweet-and-sour, the liver spicy—a bite of liver, then a big mouthful of steamed bun—perfect with rice.
Da Wa gasped from the spice. “By the way, Auntie, didn’t you prepare a birthday gift for Uncle? Show us too.”
Shen Xihe instinctively looked at Gu Xiao, who was still chewing on a bone. He set down his chopsticks. “It’s not for you. Why are you looking?”
Da Wa said earnestly, “Just let us see.”
Gu Xiao spat out the bone. “A birthday gift is meant for one person only. Otherwise, where’s the surprise?”
Madam Zhou, careful not to stain her new clothes, agreed. “Exactly. Da Wa, don’t make trouble.”
Shen Xihe didn’t want Gu Xiao embarrassed. A birthday gift wasn’t essential. Still, in his heart…
Gu Xiao’s words meant there was a gift. What could it be? Paper? A pen? Maybe just wildflowers from the roadside? Or perhaps a sachet—a green sachet. After finishing Madam Zhou’s clothes, there should have been leftover fabric, just enough to sew a sachet embroidered with three bamboo leaves.
Shen Xihe thought he had guessed it. He liked the idea. It meant Gu Xiao still cared for him. When he saw the sachet, he would act surprised, even though he had already guessed.
Gu Xiao didn’t know why Shen Xihe was smiling beside her. She told him to eat more meat, but he didn’t. Foolish.
Shen Xihe ate distractedly, then followed Gu Xiao into the room after dinner. She said, “Close your eyes. I’ll get the gift.”
He immediately shut them.
Quite obedient.
Gu Xiao opened the wardrobe and took out a folding fan. She had sewn a little pouch for it, embroidered with three bamboo leaves. She said, “You can open your eyes now.”
Shen Xihe slowly opened them—green, bamboo leaves—just as he had guessed. He smiled and took the “sachet.” But something felt wrong—the shape, the texture. Surprised, he asked, “It’s not a sachet?”
Gu Xiao was puzzled. “What sachet?”
Shen Xihe pulled the item out of the pouch—it was a folding fan. “You gave me a fan?”
His voice was a little hoarse. Chen Ningyuan also had such a fan, and as far as Shen Xihe knew, it wasn’t cheap. Chen Ningyuan carried his every day, cherishing it greatly.
Gu Xiao had given him a folding fan. She didn’t realize there was any special meaning behind gifting a fan. Was it something one shouldn’t give? “Yes. Once you’ve received your birthday gift, you can make a wish.”
“A wish?”
Gu Xiao noticed Shen Xihe always repeated her words. “Yes, a wish. Birthday wishes always come true.”
Clutching the fan, Shen Xihe lowered his gaze to meet hers. “Then my wish is that there be this day every year, and that there be this moment every year.” He hoped Gu Xiao wouldn’t leave, that their days together would always be like this.
Gu Xiao gasped. “Why did you say it out loud? If you say it, it won’t come true.”
Shen Xihe replied, “Won’t come true? Then I’ll make another.” In his heart, he wished Gu Xiao would never leave, that they would remain husband and wife forever.
“Finished wishing?” Gu Xiao asked.
Shen Xihe nodded. “Finished… Oh! Xiao Xiao, why did you give me a fan?”
Because fans were easy to make, and she couldn’t bear to spend money.
Gu Xiao said, “I gave you a fan, that’s all. Why ask why? You don’t like it?”
She had heard him mention a sachet just now.
“I like it.” Anything Gu Xiao gave, he liked.
Shen Xihe seemed to forget that Gu Xiao intended to leave. At this moment, it was as if nothing had happened five days ago.
Gu Xiao hadn’t left—she had prepared a gift for his birthday.
Shen Xihe was lost in thought when suddenly a loud commotion came from outside.
“What are you doing here?” Madam Zhou stood at the doorway, her face cold as she looked at the two visitors.
“Dear in-law, we came to see you, and also to see Xiao Xiao. Here are two bunches of vegetables from our garden; don’t despise them.” The old woman speaking tried to push the basket into Madam Zhou’s hands.
Madam Zhou quickly stepped back. “Stay away!” She didn’t want her new clothes touched.