Dusk fell. Evening clouds filled the sky, and the golden rays of the setting sun withdrew from the earthen farmyard, leaving mottled purple-black traces.
Ruyi had just finished storing the sun-dried mulberries in the granary. She bent over to wipe the bamboo mat stained with mulberry juice when she suddenly heard a string of hurried footsteps approaching fast. She turned her head to look outside—a tall figure burst through the doorway, disheveled golden hair carrying the brilliant remnants of the sunset into her view.
“Ruyi, my eldest brother and second brother are back! I’ll come fetch you tomorrow at noon to have a meal and introduce you to them.” Lou Zhaoshui walked in with a spring in his step, carrying two jars of wine and a strip of meat in his hands. “These are the wine and cured beef my second brother brought back from Luoyang—I’ve brought some for you to try.”
“All right,” Ruyi agreed. She gestured for him to take the things to the main hall, then asked, “What are your two brothers’ names?”
“My eldest brother is Lou Zheng, and my second brother is Lou Yi. They chose their own names—they sound better than mine.”
“I think ‘Lou Zhaoshui’ sounds the best.”
Lou Zhaoshui was satisfied. He pressed down the corners of his mouth, putting on a deliberately serious air. “You know how to write, and neither of them does, so I trust your judgment.”
Ruyi’s smile stretched ear to ear.
Lou Zhaoshui couldn’t hold back his laughter either.
His laugh was different from hers—mostly silent. No matter how brilliant his smile, it only revealed a few teeth; he never doubled over, and his features never contorted. It seemed to be the natural poise of a beauty.
Ruyi was entranced again.
Lou Zhaoshui grew uneasy, lowering his head, though inwardly he was bubbling with pride.
“Oh? Little Lou’s here?” Mother Fu returned carrying a basket of mulberries. “I’ll start cooking—you should stay for dinner.”
“No, my two brothers are back. They brought several jars of wine and strips of beef from Luoyang, so I’ve brought some over for you to taste.” Lou Zhaoshui collected himself and answered earnestly.
“You should keep it for your own family—no need to send any over here,” Mother Fu said politely, then continued, “They’re finally back. Your parents won’t have to worry anymore. How long can they stay? When do they leave?”
“My eldest brother can stay for a while—if there’s no sudden outbreak of war, he’ll return to camp after the autumn harvest. My second brother can only stay a few days; the leave his master granted is short,” Lou Zhaoshui answered. He looked at Ruyi, then said with nervous excitement, “Mother, before my second brother leaves, they’ll come with me to present the betrothal gifts.”
Mother Fu looked at Ruyi, and seeing her nod eagerly without a trace of restraint, she agreed with an exasperated air.
Lou Zhaoshui felt that in all his eighteen years, this was the happiest moment.
After leaving the Fu family’s old home, he walked back smiling the whole way, drawing the gaze of farmers returning home who paused to stare.
* * *
The sun climbed high into the sky. Lou Zhaoshui came to the Fu house to pick her up, but he arrived early—Ruyi had just washed her hair, and it was still wet, dripping with water.
“Come, dry my hair for me.” Taking advantage of the fact that no one else was home, Ruyi boldly ordered him around.
Lou Zhaoshui took the coarse cloth towel. He lifted a handful of her glossy black hair—his first impression was its softness, his second was its fragrance. A woman’s hair was both soft and fragrant.
The cloth gently rubbed and squeezed through her hair as Ruyi leaned back in her chair in contentment. She tilted her head up, gazing at him from below, but he didn’t dare meet her eyes. His lashes were lowered, his lips pressed tightly together, and the ears hidden beneath his golden hair were red enough to drip blood.
Ruyi grew more and more excited as she watched, but gradually she noticed something was off. When she had touched his lips earlier, he hadn’t been this shy. After a moment’s thought, she looked down and realized—she had forgotten to fasten the collar button she had undone while washing her hair. With her leaning back, the two sides of her collar stood open like a split bean pod.
She let out a meaningful “Oh,” then slowly raised her hand to cover her collar, asking like one catching a thief: “What did you see?”
In a flash, he flushed from his neck to his face, stammering, unable to form words.
“What’s there to be shy about? They’re for you to see sooner or later,” Ruyi teased him again, afraid he wasn’t hot enough under the collar.
“Shut up!” Lou Zhaoshui’s legs went weak; he could barely stand.
Ruyi clicked her tongue. “Coward.”
Lou Zhaoshui silently accepted the label, keeping his head lowered as he carefully dried her hair.
Ruyi crossed her legs, fell silent and closed her eyes, and leaned back in the chair, humming a little tune of her own making.
“Your clothes.” He noticed her collar was still open—whether she had forgotten to button it or hadn’t fastened it properly and it had popped open again.
Fu Ruyi pretended not to hear. After a moment, she sensed the pressure on her head disappear. The next instant, she felt a trembling touch at her chest, and scorching breath seared her skin through a layer of fairly thin fabric, sending shivers through her entire body.
She silently opened her eyes. The next instant, the sound of her clothing fasteners rubbing together ceased, and the figure before her straightened up abruptly, pulling away from her.
Her fluttering heart was left hanging, neither here nor there. Her face fell, her emotions written plainly across her features.
Lou Zhaoshui resumed drying her hair, which so infuriated Ruyi that she reached back and pinched his leg hard—it was rock solid, with not a bit of flesh to grab, yet he flinched as if his flesh had been gouged out and stumbled backward repeatedly.
“Dry my hair.”
“Oh.” He hurried forward a few steps, but before he could touch her hair, he saw a hand slithering up from below like a snake. He jumped away as if bitten.
Ruyi was so angry she laughed. “Dry my hair.”
“Oh.” He leaned in sideways, on high alert.
This time, Ruyi genuinely laughed.
Seeing her smile again, he finally felt his anxious heart settle.
It was getting late. Ruyi stopped tormenting him, and for the next the time it took half a stick of incense to burn, she behaved herself.
Her hair was dried and tied up high.
Ruyi returned to her room and changed into the spring outfit made at the end of last spring that she hadn’t yet had a chance to wear. It resembled Hu-style clothing—a short, close-fitting ru jacket with narrow sleeves on top, and a long skirt covering the tops of her feet below, making her appear even taller and more graceful. When she walked with big strides, the rapidly fluttering hem of her skirt was like a butterfly beating its wings; a few glances at it would leave one dizzy and flustered.
Lou Zhaoshui didn’t dare look too much. For the first time, he couldn’t wait to walk ahead of her.
“Coward!” Ruyi gave another light snort.
“Is that Ruyi? Dressed so prettily. Where are you off to?” From a vegetable plot outside the village, her second sister’s cousin-in-law called out.
“To meet the in-laws,” Ruyi answered with a smile.
“Good news coming soon?”
“Ah, yes.”
Two questions, two answers. The figure walking ahead stopped. As Ruyi drew near, he grabbed her hand. She shook him off. He chased after her and grabbed it again like a bandit.
“I’ll call for help, you filthy rogue,” Ruyi scolded, though her words didn’t match her heart.
“I stink, you smell sweet.” He caught the fragrance from her hair again—the scent of osmanthus. With her braid swinging back and forth, the fragrance came in waves, strong then faint, and his breathing was once again under her control.
“What did you wash your hair with? It didn’t have this scent before,” he couldn’t help but ask.
“I washed it with water boiled with osmanthus flowers. Like it?” Ruyi had put a little extra thought into it today. “If you like it, I’ll boil a handful of osmanthus in water every time I wash my hair from now on.”
He didn’t say whether he liked it or not, only that he wanted to plant a few osmanthus trees in his mulberry fields.
They left the village and stepped onto the pontoon bridge. As they neared the northern bank, Lou Zhaoshui spotted someone waiting at the bridgehead. “Second Brother, are you waiting for us?”
Lou Yi nodded. He recognized Fu Ruyi. “It’s you.”
“Yes, we’re acquainted now,” Fu Ruyi replied to his question from the day before.
“You recognized me yesterday?” Lou Yi touched his face, then looked at his younger brother, answering his own question: “Makes sense.”
“You two met yesterday?” Lou Zhaoshui understood now. “My second brother and I look somewhat alike, don’t we?”
“Very much so.” Ruyi stared at Lou Yi. Though the two brothers looked about half alike, if Lou Zhaoshui had black hair and black eyes, he wouldn’t be as striking as his second brother. He lacked the unique aura his second brother possessed—that air of effortless command, those languid yet sharp eyes, paired with the deep-set eyes characteristic of the Xianbei, making him both alluring and dangerous.
Lou Yi freely allowed her to scrutinize him. Noticing his younger brother’s face gradually falling, he held one arm tucked against his body and asked teasingly, “Between me and Little Lamb, whose looks suit your taste better? Me, right? I have black hair and black eyes just like you.”
Ruyi was flustered. Unable to withstand the provocation, she turned her face away. This was precisely the Xianbei temperament as seen through Han eyes—unrestrained to the point of being intimidating. She looked at the great beauty and picked out a point that caught her attention: “Little Lamb? Is your name Little Lamb?”
“That’s not important.” Lou Zhaoshui hadn’t expected karma to arrive so quickly. A month ago, she stood beside Wang Erlang, gazing at Zhaoshui in a trance; today she stood beside him, infatuated with another man.
“Oh.” Diverted, Ruyi recovered her composure. She gave the answer both men were waiting for: “There are plenty of people with black hair and black eyes. It’s nothing special. I’m not fixated on that trait.”
“And what about a man with golden hair and blue eyes?” Lou Yi asked.
“I’m not fixated on golden hair and blue eyes either.” Ruyi wasn’t confident inside, but she didn’t show it. She raised their clasped hands. “I already have him. I only like him.”
Lou Yi smiled with deep meaning, neither confirming nor denying belief. He answered her question about Little Lamb: “He’s Little Lamb. I gave him that name. In our family, he’s a little lamb raised at home—simple in nature, perfect in appearance, living happily, doted on by all. There’s no rope around his neck; he can roam freely without restraint, and when he’s tired of playing, he comes home, where a clean little bed and fodder are prepared for him.”
“Second Brother! I’m not—don’t say that. I’m not a child anymore.” Lou Zhaoshui didn’t grasp Lou Yi’s meaning. He didn’t like being described that way in front of Ruyi.
Ruyi’s expression showed nothing, but inwardly she scoffed. Who’s scared by that? She, Fu Ruyi, was also the Little Lamb of the Fu family.
Lou Yi’s heartfelt concern had been wasted. He shook his head in frustration at his disappointing brother. “Come, let’s go home and eat. The meal is ready.”
Seeing Lou Yi stride ahead, Lou Zhaoshui stayed put. He seized the moment to whisper, “See that? His temper isn’t as good as mine.”
“Mhm, I like you the most,” Ruyi said, amused by him.
Lou Zhaoshui was not entirely reassured. “Don’t keep staring at him. He’s not as good-looking as I am.”
“…I was just looking at him because he resembles you.”
“Looking at me is enough.” He relished the way she coveted him with her gaze, and dreaded the thought of her turning that same look toward another man.
“Fine.”
The three of them returned to the Lou family home, one in front and two behind. The meal was indeed ready, and as soon as everyone was there, the dishes were brought to the table.
“This is Eldest Brother,” Lou Zhaoshui introduced him to Ruyi.
“Eldest Brother, we met yesterday.” Only now did Ruyi get a clear look at Lou Zheng’s features. He was the most unremarkable-looking of the four Lou siblings. Little Blondie took after his two uncles rather than his father.
“Mm.” Lou Zheng gave a curt nod, and as if feeling that was too cold, added when Ruyi turned away: “Thank you for looking after our family.”
“You’re being too formal. We’re all one family.” Ruyi could see that he had a cold disposition and an austere bearing, likely related to his experience in military campaigns. She understood and did not force him to interact with her.
As she had guessed, throughout the meal, amid the lively and congenial atmosphere of the family conversing, Lou Zheng rarely spoke. When he did chime in, it was only when directly addressed.
“Which household do you work for, Second Brother?” Ruyi suddenly remembered. “I heard from Eldest Sister-in-law earlier that you were supposed to return at the end of the third month. Why were you so delayed? The family was quite worried these past days, but had no idea where to inquire for news. Would it be convenient for us to send you letters? Or you could regularly send us word—either verbal messages or written letters will do. If the Lou family in Pinghe Village is hard to find, have someone deliver the letter to the Fu family in Dapo Village. Just say it’s the Fu family that deals in the candle business—everyone in the area knows them.”
“Good, I’ll remember that.” Lou Yi accepted this kindness, and explained: “We were originally supposed to return at the end of the third month, but something came up unexpectedly, so we were delayed. The Crown Prince refused to accept his schooling, refused to accept His Majesty’s sinicization reforms. He secretly led troops north to return to Pingcheng, but His Majesty led troops to intercept him halfway and had him killed. After killing the Crown Prince, His Majesty returned to Luoyang and cracked down on the Xianbei nobility. The Xianbei nobles were all busy rectifying their old customs—burning their Hu clothes and changing into Han clothing, learning Han characters and practicing Han etiquette. As a Xianbei man, I too have to follow my master in learning all this.”
“The Xianbei have taken over the Central Plains, and the Han people resent the Xianbei. Don’t you resent them?” Lou Zheng suddenly spoke up. He spread open his two large, gnarled hands covered in old scars, and threatened with malice: “These hands of mine are stained with the blood of your Han people. Do you hate me? Are you afraid?”
“Eldest Brother! I’m going to get upset.” Lou Zhaoshui sensed the hostility in his eldest brother’s words.
“I’m curious too.” Lou Yi ignored Lou Zhaoshui’s reaction, and stared at Ruyi with a probing look. “I heard that you and Little Lamb have known each other for a very short time. Perhaps you should think it over more carefully? This is a significant matter. If you were to develop such thoughts in the future, it would be bad for both you and him.”
“Ruyi, let’s go.” Lou Zhaoshui had not expected things to take this turn—that they had come home to break him and Ruyi up.
Before she could react, Ruyi was pulled to her feet by him. He dragged her along for two steps before she hurriedly stopped him: “Wait, let me say a few words to your two elder brothers.”
“There’s nothing worth saying to them,” Lou Zhaoshui said indignantly, but he obediently stopped in his tracks.
Lou Yi shot him a glare. It hadn’t been long at all, and already he was siding with outsiders?
“There have been wars in the Central Plains since ancient times—not just Han against Xianbei, but also eras when Han slaughtered Han. Eldest Brother, what do I hate you for? I don’t hate you—I pity you. You don’t want to kill, and the blade in your hand has already tormented you to the brink of madness. I can see it.” Ruyi exposed his disguise, striking at his sore spot in retaliation.
The flesh on Lou Zheng’s face twitched uncontrollably. He frantically reached for the wine bowl before him, but it was empty. He grabbed the wine jug from under the table and poured wine into his mouth, hoping this would mask his loss of control.
The room fell silent, then suddenly weeping arose—from Wan Qianhong, from Lou Yueming, from Mother Lou.
“On this yellow earth, many crops are grown. The same plot of land can grow wheat or soybeans; it can be irrigated for rice paddies, or have earth piled up to plant trees on hills. Whether the harvest is bountiful or poor depends not only on the weather but also on the skill of the farmer, which plays the decisive role. Yet no matter how capable the farmer, the land needs rotation, needs to rest and recover. After many years, when the fertility is exhausted, the field must lie fallow and the seeds must be changed. When a wheat field is converted to soybeans, it would be absurd to wonder whether the fallen wheat grains resent the soybeans. That’s too complicated—not something a struggling wheat grain should ponder. The wheat grain’s choice is to use the soybean’s fertility to nourish itself. Wheat and soybeans can coexist.” Fu Ruyi took a long detour to explain the relationship between ordinary Han and ordinary Xianbei, but everyone present wore puzzled expressions. She said flatly, “I’ll head back first. You should talk among yourselves.”
“I’ll go with you.” Lou Zhaoshui took her hand and strode away.
The two walked out the main gate, and Lou Yi chased after them. His eyes gleamed, his face eager and his manner earnest as he called out, “Ruyi, Sister-in-law, please wait. Let’s talk a little more.”
Fu Ruyi hesitated and stopped.
Lou Zhaoshui instantly went on high alert, the skin on the back of his neck stretching taut with fright. “Let’s go, hurry—I’ll show you whatever you want to see.”
Hearing this, Ruyi immediately quickened her pace and followed him.
“Little Lamb, stop! Lou Zhaoshui!”
Lou Zhaoshui broke into a run.
Ruyi ran after him, the houses and vegetation along the roadside rapidly receding before her eyes.