“Brother Pei, it’s me, Mingse…”
After the rain cleared, the first rays of sunlight slanted across the pear blossoms peeking over the wall, their branches trembling as they scattered fragrant snow.
A pair of grubby little hands, smudged with dirt, grasped the blue-brick courtyard wall, followed by a fuzzy head adorned with twin buns that popped up like bamboo shoots after a spring rain.
She looked only five or six years old, with a jade-like, snow-white cuteness, her tender face as soft and fluffy as a steamed bun. A pure white pear blossom drifted down and landed on her forehead, making her delicate features appear even more lively.
Chu Mingse kicked her feet, the embroidered shoes with golden tiger heads on them scrabbling against the wall, until she finally managed to straddle the top. She brushed aside the flower-laden branches blocking her view and craned her neck to peer into the neighboring courtyard, her dark, grape-like eyes darting around.
Three days ago, a handsome young man had suddenly moved into the long-abandoned house next door. His legs were crippled, and he remained secluded indoors all day, sparking endless speculation among the neighbors.
Chu Mingse’s parents, in fact, were old acquaintances of the young man’s parents.
She had heard from her mother that if it weren’t for the help of the young man’s mother back then, her parents would never have been able to marry, and she herself would never have been born.
By that logic, the young man’s mother was her lifesaver. And since a mother’s kindness passes to her son, the young man was also her lifesaver.
Her lifesaver had now been beaten so badly by his own father that his legs were broken, and he had been practically exiled to Deng Hua Lane in Shuijin Town. With only a few servants for company in his residence, he was utterly lonely and miserable, desperately in need of family and friends to keep him company. Otherwise, his pent-up sorrow could easily warp his temperament, leaving him broken and unable to recover.
All of this was what Chu Mingse had overheard from her father and mother.
She still remembered her mother’s furious tone: “What does that Pei fellow mean by this? How could he be so heartless as to break his own son’s legs and then send him off alone to Shuijin Town?”
And her father’s gentle correction: “It was Yun Niang who couldn’t bear to see him stay in that den of wolves, the Pei family, and deliberately sent him here.”
Her mother cursed the Pei man for his betrayal while angrily slapping the letter Yun Niang had sent back into her father’s arms, making him yelp in surprise.
That letter was from the young man’s mother, Yun Niang, entrusting her parents to look after him a little.
But when her father and mother took turns visiting, they were turned away by the servants with the excuse, “The young master is not receiving guests,” unable even to step inside.
Her father managed to coax some information from the servant who opened the door: their young master refused to see a doctor despite his injured legs, and since setting out for Shuijin Town, he hadn’t spoken a single word.
This left the two of them deeply worried.
Hearing her parents sighing, Chu Mingse volunteered to go find Brother Pei to repay her “lifesaving debt.” Her mother thought that since they were both children, it would surely be easier for them to talk. Her father praised her for being lively and cheerful, saying she might be able to lift some of the gloom from the young man’s heart.
Chu Mingse set out full of confidence, only to return home after being shut out.
But unlike her parents, who were at a loss after being refused entry, Chu Mingse wasn’t discouraged in the slightest. She turned back to the courtyard, lay flat on the ground, stuck her bottom up, and wriggled through the dog hole, sneaking into the neighboring yard.
You had to see the person first before you could talk to them.
And then she faced her second closed door outside Brother Pei’s room.
The next day, the dog hole was thoroughly blocked up.
Chu Mingse had initially thought that since one path was blocked, she might as well try to dig it open. So, she huffed and puffed as she hauled tools of all sizes from her father’s carpentry workshop and began chiseling at the wall by hand.
Unfortunately, she was small and weak, and after much effort, the dog hole remained unmoved.
She stood up and, imitating her father’s usual manner when faced with a difficult problem, clasped her hands behind her back and paced back and forth at the base of the wall, thinking of a solution. Suddenly, she looked up and spotted the tall pear tree on the other side of the wall, its branches reaching high above the courtyard.
She dragged over a long bench and stacked a small stool on top, wobbling precariously as she climbed to the top of the wall, only to be frantically scooped down by her father, who had just returned home.
Her father scolded her, saying that climbing the wall like that was far too dangerous—if she fell, she might end up dead on the spot.
Just as Chu Mingse was worrying that if she couldn’t climb over the wall into the courtyard, she wouldn’t be able to see anyone, let alone repay her debt of gratitude, her father had already worked through the night to build a sturdy ladder, specially for her wall-climbing endeavors.
Today, Chu Mingse used the new ladder to climb smoothly to the top of the wall.
Peering over, she saw no servants in the desolate courtyard and felt reassured. Grabbing a branch, she stealthily made her way across to the pear tree on the other side.
The first time she had reached the Pei family’s courtyard through the dog hole, she overheard the servants discussing how the young master had ordered them to turn away all future visitors without reporting to him. If she were discovered by the servants, she’d likely be escorted out before she even reached his door.
Chu Mingse hugged the tree trunk and slid down in a flash.
A cascade of pear blossoms showered down, covering her head and face.
Her clothes, already dusty from climbing the wall, were now scratched and frayed by the tree trunk. Chu Mingse brushed off the dust haphazardly, pushed aside the wild grass obstructing her view, and walked out with practiced ease, stepping onto the pebble-paved path.
The Pei family’s estate had been left vacant and neglected for a long time, and with only five servants accompanying them this time, they hadn’t yet had a chance to clean the place. The path was still covered in a thick layer of dust. As her embroidered shoes stepped onto it, the golden-thread-stitched tiger head was instantly buried in the flying dust.
The Pei family’s estate was three or four times larger than the Chu family’s small courtyard, with more complex corridors and courtyards. Fortunately, during her last visit, Chu Mingse had already figured out where Brother Pei lived—in a side room nestled among verdant bamboo, right next to the wall bordering the Chu family’s property.
Like a little mouse, she tiptoed stealthily all the way to the side room. Finding a tightly shut window, she stood on her tiptoes and rested her chin on the windowsill, hearing the sound of pages turning inside.
Tap, tap. She gently knocked on the window and whispered, “Brother Pei, it’s me, Sese. I’m here again.”
The sound of pages turning paused, and Chu Mingse knew he had heard her. Excited, she rose on her tiptoes again and invited, “The weather is lovely today. Would you like to come out and bask in the sun with me? Staying cooped up inside reading all day will ruin your eyes.”
No one responded, and the sound of pages turning resumed.
It had been the same the day before yesterday. Her mother said he had suffered a great injustice and was feeling stifled, which was why he didn’t want to talk to anyone.
Chu Mingse understood perfectly. She had felt that way too sometimes, shutting herself in the wardrobe until her father and mother took turns coaxing her for an entire day before she’d come out.
Brother Pei had his legs broken by his own father and was sent away from home by his own mother. He must have suffered an immense injustice. He needed to be coaxed more, gently and patiently.
So when Chu Mingse saw that he wasn’t speaking, she didn’t press further. Instead, she smoothed her skirt and sat down on the small stone step beneath the window, pulling a piece of wood and a small carving knife from the pouch at her waist.
It had rained in the morning, and the puddle in front of the step was filled with rainwater. Drops of accumulated water occasionally fell from the eaves, splashing small ripples across the puddle.
Chu Mingse stared at the puddle, remembering the scene from three days ago when Brother Pei first arrived at Lantern Flower Lane.
That day, the bluestone-paved road had been polished to a shine by a light midday drizzle, with small puddles forming in the uneven spots. She and her friends were singing nursery rhymes while playing hopscotch in the lane.
“One foot hops, two feet land, three peach blossoms bloom by the pink wall! Steady steps in the four-square grid…”
Just as they sang “steady steps,” Chu Mingse stomped into a puddle, splashing water that soaked the pale green cuffs of her trousers, causing the other children around her to laugh and dodge playfully.
Her embroidered shoes, adorned with little golden tiger heads, crushed the damp petals clinging to the wet bluestone. Chu Mingse laughed and hopped under the flowering branches, the small velvet flowers tied in her hair swaying with her movements, while the silver bracelet with bells on her wrist chimed softly.
Suddenly, the faint sound of carriage bells blended in as a green-curtained carriage slowly entered the lane from the entrance. A coachman wearing a bamboo hat sat on the carriage shaft, and four attendants followed in pairs beside the carriage.
It carried an inexplicable air of solemnity and heaviness.
As the carriage rumbled past, Chu Mingse mustered her courage to peer inside.
The wind lifted the cotton curtain hanging over the carriage window, revealing the face of a boy as exquisitely beautiful as if painted with fine brushstrokes.
Chu Mingse widened her eyes, staring unblinkingly at the window. The cotton curtain fluttered up and down in the wind, and the boy’s face, as pure and fair as jade, flickered in and out of the light, making it appear even more delicate.
He glanced out the window, his glass-like dark eyes filled with weariness.
Sunlight, like golden threads, filtered through the sparse branches of flowers and willows, turning the puddles into mirrors.
The shimmering water reflected the pear blossoms and the boy’s beautiful, pale profile from the carriage, only to be shattered into fragments by the wheels that rolled over them moments later.
The carriage passed by the vermilion-lacquered wooden door of Chu Mingse’s home and stopped in front of the estate deeper into the lane.
Chu Mingse crept forward along the wall, with her little friends trailing behind her, also craning their necks to sneak glances at the new neighbor.
The estate’s old wooden door creaked as if it might break at any moment. The door was heavy, and the hinges were worn, requiring two attendants to push it open together.
A step stool was placed in front of the carriage, but the boy inside didn’t step down. Instead, the coachman climbed onto the carriage using the stool and, moments later, carried the boy down.
The boy’s handsome and delicate features were exposed to the sunlight, so dazzlingly beautiful he seemed almost unreal, eliciting gasps of admiration.
“What a handsome young master!”
Several households in the lane opened their doors, laughing and gathering to watch the new neighbor. The weather in late spring and early summer was damp and stifling, and with the quiet, uneventful afternoon, any bit of novelty naturally drew a crowd.
The boy under scrutiny and his attendants remained silent. Two sturdy attendants fetched a sedan chair meant for one person from behind the carriage, and the coachman placed the boy onto it.
Only then did everyone notice that the boy’s legs hung limp and weak. He was…
“Oh, he’s a cripple…!”
Chu Mingse quickly turned around and covered the mouth of the friend who had gasped in surprise, pressing her index finger to her lips in a gesture for silence. Then, she turned back anxiously to see the boy’s reaction.
Had he heard?
The boy’s expression remained as still as an ancient well, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
The sedan chair disappeared behind the gate, and the heavy door creaked shut once more, stirring up a cloud of dust.
The neighbors who had gathered to watch sighed and turned their eyes away, murmuring sympathetically: “Such a young and handsome lad—how could he be a cripple?”
…
Chu Mingse shifted her gaze from the puddle, puffed out her cheeks, and picked up a carving knife to roughly shape a piece of wood into a human form. Recalling the fleeting glimpse she had caught that day, she gently carved the eyes and brows.
The soft scraping of carving filled the courtyard, mingling with Chu Mingse’s occasional cheerful attempts at conversation, dispelling the desolate silence that hung over the barren garden.
Inside the tightly shuttered side room, the latticed window cast dappled shadows across the desk. On a casually opened book lay an overly pale hand, its knuckles distinct and the blue veins on its back clearly visible, yet lifeless—beautiful like jade carving.
Dark, slender lashes lowered slightly, half-concealing indifferent pupils.
He had clearly ordered the dog hole by the wall to be sealed—how had she gotten through today?
The little girl’s voice, crisp and sweet, chattered through the window. The slender young man sat upright, motionless and expressionless, listening.
It wasn’t until the daylight slanted, staining the snow-white pages with an orange glow, that rustling sounds came from outside. A small head with twin buns gradually appeared, its shadow cast upon the window lattice. Only then did he lift his eyelids slightly, gazing through the window at that tiny silhouette.
Chu Mingse leaned her head close to the window and whispered her farewell: “It’s getting dark, I’m going home now. Brother Pei, make sure to eat well and don’t be picky, okay?”
She turned and scampered away, skillfully climbing a tree, scaling the wall, and stepping onto a ladder to return to her own courtyard.
“Se’se is back?” A beautiful woman with her hair styled in a married woman’s bun leaned out from the kitchen, only to see that her daughter, who had left as a clean and adorable little dumpling, had now turned into a grimy little mud monkey.
The little girl’s neatly tied buns had become loose and disheveled from all the activity. On the right bun, one of the butterfly hairpins adorned with tassels was missing compared to the left, likely lost somewhere along the way.
Whenever Chu Mingse went out to play, nine times out of ten she would return in such a state. Qu He, accustomed to this, led her to wash her hands and wipe her face by the western wall, thinking she would need to change her clothes before dinner.
The Chu family’s courtyard was a spacious two-sectioned compound. Chu Mingse’s father, Chu Qingyuan, had carved out a shallow channel two people wide along the western wall, where a miniature waterwheel, as tall as Chu Mingse herself, creaked as it turned.
It was carved by Chu Qingyuan from beechwood, with precise mortise and tenon joints. As the waterwheel turned, bamboo tubes scooped up clear water one after another, pouring it into a split bamboo trough. The clear stream meandered through, forming a flowing water feature.
It also served as Chu Mingse’s handwashing basin.
Hanging from the wall beside the miniature waterwheel was a long strand of wisteria. Though past its peak bloom, late flowers still drooped heavily, and fallen purple petals swirled as they drifted across the water’s surface.
Qu He loved flowers and plants, and the courtyard was filled with greenery she tended herself. By the waterwheel, a bamboo trellis was entwined with roses, while in the damp, shaded corner beneath it, hostas grew.
A white porcelain basin by the well held budding gardenias, and in the northwest corner, pink peonies bloomed in dense clusters, their branches weighed down by layers of lush, full petals, bending toward the ground.
The entire courtyard was steeped in a fresh, floating fragrance.
The door on the other side of the courtyard swung open, and Chu Qingyuan, still covered in wood shavings, hurried over eagerly. “Well? What did the young master from the Pei family say to you today?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
Chu Qingyuan: “You went twice, spending an entire afternoon in his courtyard each time, and he didn’t utter a single word?”
Chu Mingse nodded, looking quite troubled. “Oh no, Father, do you think he might… have trouble hearing too?”
Chu Qingyuan exchanged a glance with Qu He. “In her letter two years ago, Yun Niang mentioned that her young son was exceptionally clever and well-mannered. Yet now, he’s left Se Se hanging for two days in a row. Do you think he…”
Just as Qu He’s heart tightened, her husband voiced a suspicion that mirrored their daughter’s: “Could it be that besides his leg ailment, something else has affected him…”
“Se Se is unreliable, and so are you?” Qu He gave him an exasperated pat. “Just think about it. In the spring, he passed the child scholar examination, a time of great promise. Now, with his legs crippled and sent far away to Shuijin Town, how could his heart be at peace? How could he not be changed by it?”
The couple frowned in unison. Chu Mingse stood on tiptoe, stretching her hands out to both sides, trying to smooth the furrows on their brows at the same time.
“Don’t worry, Father and Mother. I’ll go again tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you upset about being ignored, Se Se?”
Though Chu Qingyuan and Qu He were concerned about the young master from the Pei family, they cared even more for their own daughter. They had considered telling her to give up if it didn’t work out, and they would think of another plan. Over time, things surely wouldn’t remain so cold.
Unexpectedly, Chu Mingse showed remarkable perseverance and insight. “Brother Pei is Se Se’s savior! If I gave up over such a small difficulty, I’d have no determination at all.”
Besides, she squinted her eyes and smiled. In her eyes, Brother Pei was the most beautiful person in the entire town, aside from her father and mother!
She had her own selfish reasons too. Opportunities to make friends were rare, and chances to befriend someone so beautiful were even rarer. She couldn’t let this slip away.
Having such a handsome neighbor and brother—who wouldn’t envy her for that?