Hearing the heated argument, Mrs. Cui emerged from her room just in time to see Lin Yuhe burst out of Xie Shuhuai’s east room, her face drenched in tears.
Fearing for the child in her belly, Mrs. Cui couldn’t help but scold her son. “Shuhuai, what are you doing?” she reprimanded him sharply. “Have you forgotten Doctor Ji’s warnings? She’s carrying your child, and for the past two days, she’s been worried sick over your health. She only went into your room to care for you!”
Shuhuai’s eyes grew dazed, a moment of inner turmoil flickering through his gaze before he closed his eyes to suppress the complex emotions swelling within. He lay back down on the bed.
His fingers still clutched the cool, damp cloth Yuhe had left behind. In the quiet room, her subtle, lingering fragrance hung in the air, drifting over him in soft, delicate threads.
Noticing his unbuttoned collar, Mrs. Cui assumed he was feeling overheated. “Shuhuai, you’ve been burning with fever and your clothes are damp with sweat,” she murmured softly. “Mother will heat some water for you to bathe and change into a dry tunic.”
With his back turned to her, Shuhuai replied quietly, “Mother, I don’t wish to bathe or change right now. Please step outside for a bit.”
By the following day, Shuhuai’s fever had fully broken and his coughing had ceased, though his face remained somewhat pale.
As for Yuhe, angry though she was, she didn’t skip a single meal or neglect any of her daily chores. However, she made a point to stay out of Shuhuai’s way, refusing to speak a single word to him.
Shortly after breakfast, Li Yunluo arrived at the Xie home once again, accompanied by Dongyue, who was carrying two wrapped bundles.
Mrs. Cui warmly welcomed them into the house. When Dongyue untied the bundles, she revealed a fresh set of summer garments tailored for the entire family.
Little Yun jumped up and down in pure delight. “Auntie Yunluo, you’re so wonderful!”
Catching a whiff of the sweet fragrance lingering on Yunluo, Little Yun asked shyly, “Auntie Yunluo, I bathed with my scented soap—can I hold your hand now?”
Yunluo’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second. Glancing at Shuhuai standing by the doorway, she immediately knelt down and swept Little Yun into a warm embrace, cooing softly, “Little Yun smells so lovely! Auntie won’t just hold your hand—I’ll give you a big hug, too!”
Little Yun giggled happily, her small face beaming with joy.
A subtle curve touched the corner of Shuhuai’s lips as a gentle warmth softened his expression.
Releasing Little Yun, Yunluo reached into her robes and pulled out an embroidered sachet, her eyes glistening with bashfulness. “Brother Shuhuai, I embroidered this with my own hands. I forgot to give it to you on the Dragon Boat Festival.”
Stepping out of the west room at that very moment, Yuhe caught sight of the scene.
Her eyes dimmed. Turning back silently, she stepped into her room and softly pulled the door shut, isolating herself within her own small corner of the world.
Yunluo was radiant with tender affection, and Shuhuai looked back at her with gentle warmth.
If that isn’t two minds with but a single thought, then what is?
Watching her former husband harbour affection for another woman with her own eyes—it would be a lie to say it didn’t hurt. Bitter tears spilled over her lashes, tracing down her cheeks.
A moment later, however, a quiet smile touched her lips as she whispered words of encouragement to herself, “Lin Yuhe, don’t be sad. Isn’t there still half a year left? Even if Xie Shuhuai ultimately marries Li Yunluo, at least you gave it your all. Consider it paying back everything you owed him in the past.”
Wiping away her tears, she gathered her spirits. Pulling a bolt of plain cotton from her wooden chest, she set to work cutting fabric to stitch clothes for the baby in her womb.
This cotton was a piece her mother had prepared for her bridal dowry, praising it for being soft, breathable, and perfect for a newborn. Since her sewing skills were modest at best, she patterned the cuts after the simple garments young Xing’er had worn as a infant, making the process much easier.
Immersed in her work, she lost all track of time until the voices outside gradually faded into silence.
Suddenly, her bedroom door creaked open, and Little Yun came skipping inside. Dressed in a brand-new outfit, the child twirled around the room before asking eagerly, “Auntie, does my new jacket and skirt look pretty?”
Yuhe raised her eyes, pausing her handiwork. “It’s lovely,” she replied warmly. “Our Little Yun is so sweet that anything you wear looks pretty.”
Little Yun happily settled beside the bed, tilting her head in serious thought. “Then, Auntie, next time you go to Sister Xing’er’s house, bring me along too, okay? I’ll wear this new dress!”
Yuhe pinched her chubby cheek softly, chuckling. “Alright. As long as your grandmother agrees, I won’t just take you to Sister Xing’er’s house—I’ll take you to the temple fair next month, too. I’ll pin up your hair and decorate it with silk flowers, turning our Little Yun into a proper little fairy.”
Little Yun broke into a fit of giggles.
Standing beneath the eaves outside, Xie Shuhuai heard the cheerful voices floating from the room. Turning on his heel, he stepped silently back into his east room.
Once Shuhuai had fully recovered and finished copying his manuscripts, he made a trip to Changqing Bookstore in the county town.
The moment Manager Liang recognized his visitor, his usual aloof demeanor vanished. He warmly ushered Shuhuai up to a private tea room on the second floor and ordered tea to be served.
“Shuhuai, what brings you here for a casual chat today?” Manager Liang asked cheerfully. “Usually, you just grab your books and leave.”
Shuhuai skipped the polite pleasantries, getting straight to the point. “What is the background of Master Chen at Yunxiang Academy?”
Manager Liang’s true name was Liang Youzhen, the youngest son of the wealthy Liang family—renowned imperial merchants in Xuyang.
He was an eccentric fellow, refusing to take over his family’s trade or sit for the imperial examinations to enter officialdom. He had few close friends, unless someone happened to share his niche interests. Though he held no political ambitions, he possessed an extraordinary grasp of every rumor, secret, and shift within the Jin imperial court, the merchant guilds, and the martial world.
Having had him late in life, Master Liang doted on his youngest son, granting his every whim. Calling him “Manager” was merely a tongue-in-cheek formality; he was actually nineteen, the same age as Shuhuai. When he was fifteen, he had nearly drowned, only to be saved by Shuhuai. From that day on, the two had grown close.
Hearing Shuhuai ask about serious business, Liang Youzhen abandoned his playfulness and adopted a grave tone. “He carries quite a pedigree. He is the son-in-law of Meng Shangrong, the Crown Prince’s Grand Tutor.”
Hearing the exact same facts Yuhe had mentioned, Shuhuai froze on the spot. His dark, calm pupils contracted sharply.
Noticing nothing amiss, Liang Youzhen rambled on, “He passed the imperial exams in the twentieth year of Zhaode and served as a Director in the Ministry of Works. Perhaps unable to stomach the court’s vicious power struggles, he resigned his post after his wife—Lord Meng’s eldest daughter—passed away. He took his young son and returned to his ancestral home in Guangling Commandery. I reckon he left the Grand Tutor deeply disappointed, abandoning him just when he needed allies at court.”
Liang Youzhen held great admiration for Lord Meng, who was famous for his integrity and willingness to speak up for underprivileged scholars. In Youzhen’s eyes, he was a rare beacon of purity in the court—a virtually perfect official, save for his unyielding defense of the Crown Prince in the factional wars.
“Later, the headmaster of Yunxiang Academy extended repeated invitations before Chen Jinzhan finally agreed to teach there, specializing in guiding failed candidates,” Youzhen continued. “The surge in successful candidates from Yunxiang Academy over the past two years is entirely to his credit.”
Shuhuai had already heard this second piece of information from Zhu Jinwen.
Suddenly shifting the topic, Liang Youzhen asked, “Why? Are you thinking of entering Yunxiang Academy?”
“Yes.”
Liang Youzhen blinked in surprise. “You never had that intention in the past.”
“Now I do,” Shuhuai replied smoothly, hiding nothing.
“Tuition at Yunxiang Academy doesn’t come cheap,” Liang Youzhen noted. “I’ll prepare the silver for you. In return, whenever you have spare time, just leave me a painting.”
He knew Shuhuai was far from wealthy, yet the man rarely asked for help. Thinking Shuhuai was finally turning to him, Youzhen felt a sense of relief, glad to settle an old debt.
To his surprise, Shuhuai simply replied, “Thank you, but there is no need for now.”