Xie Linxu rose as he spoke.
Seeing that they were finally going out, Song Xingyue quickly stood as well, saying to the elders: “Then I’ll go with Changzhou first. Father, uncles, aunts—please enjoy.”
Xie Xiu waved his hand: “Go, go. You should get out more. Staying cooped up at home all day is dull.”
Song Xingyue and Xie Linxu were about to leave when Xie Jinfei piped up: “I want to go too! Brother, take me along!”
Two cousins from the second branch joined in, clamoring: “We want to go too!”
Song Xingyue felt reluctant, her face showing unease. Xie Linxu’s brows furrowed—he too found the three troublesome.
Before either could speak, Xie Xiu decided for them: “Go, all of you. Since you’re going out anyway, Changzhou, Xingyue, look after your younger siblings.”
Song Xingyue pressed her lips together, a little disappointed. She had only wanted to go with Xie Linxu alone. What was this now? Three young girls tagging along—and they didn’t even like her. How was this supposed to be enjoyable? But since Xie Xiu had spoken, she couldn’t say no. So the five of them went out together.
Meanwhile, Jingxi followed the Old Madam out of Rongming Hall. Catching up, she said: “Mother, let me see you back.”
The old lady paused at her voice and waited a few breaths.
They walked side by side beneath the corridor.
Jingxi wasted no words, asking directly: “Mother, what did you mean by what you said at the banquet?”
The old lady knew this was her purpose. Age had slowed her steps; leaning on her cane, she walked slowly across the moonlit corridor. Her pace was halting, but her words were sharp: “If life cannot go on, that is another matter. But if it can, then it is best. Changzhou is cold by nature—do you think he would be different with anyone else? Xiao Yue is someone who can live peacefully with him. Why cling to the past? The Li family match fell through; I never minded. Why should you hold a grudge to this day?”
Jingxi replied: “I bear no grudge. I simply cannot stomach a scheming woman entering our gates.”
Just a woman skilled at seduction, with nothing but a pretty face, no other worth. She had seen such women often in the palace—various kinds, all with crooked hearts. Beyond their tricks to beguile rulers, what was there to admire?
“Scheming?” Old Madam gave a cold snort and struck her cane against the floor. “Must your words be so harsh? She is but a weak young woman. You give her far too much credit.”
“Suiqi, the Duke’s household needs no one’s help to stand. When Xie Xiu married you, you knew you were not wronged. The Xie family does not rely on the heir’s marriage for strength—if alliances can be made, all the better; if not, it matters little. In youth, people speak of pride; in age, they seek peace. I am old now; I have seen much. Xiao Yue is a pitiful child—you truly need not treat her so.”
“Pitiful? What is pitiful about climbing high branches?”
Old Madam Xie leaned on her cane, rosary beads in hand. She glanced at her and said: “Then that branch she climbed is nothing but a joke. She doesn’t even have proper clothes to wear. No one in this household truly treats her as one of the Xie family.” She shook her head, sighing, unwilling to argue further: “They say a gentleman judges deeds, not hearts. She has paid you respects for two years straight. Even if it is only for appearances, that is still true filial piety.”
Old Madam Xie was a full generation older; Jingxi could not win against her. She fell silent, unwilling even to keep up appearances, and said only: “Mother, walk slowly. Your daughter‑in‑law will not see you off.”
Born a princess, pampered and proud, her temper was naturally great. The old lady had long known.
Seeing her like this, the old lady was not angered. Instead, she laughed: “Look at that temper—two words, and you’re displeased. Only Xuige’s wife can endure you.”
Jingxi’s face froze at the remark. She wanted to retort, but no words came. At last, her cheeks flushed red, and she turned away.
The old lady only shook her head and sighed, saying no more.
That night was Mid‑Autumn. The curfew was lifted, and night wandering was permitted.
By the hour of the dog, the streets were still lively. The Xie family went out together to Chang’an Street, the busiest in the capital.
Crowds thronged the stone roads, lanterns lit through the night. From the tall buildings, the long street looked like a dragon in motion.
Artisans sold rabbit lanterns—bamboo frames covered in gauze, eyes dotted with cinnabar, swaying in the wind as vendors called. Children clutched copper coins to buy sugar paintings; others carried radish lanterns, darting about. Young girls walked in groups, laughter drifting through the night.
Song Xingyue walked beside Xie Linxu. Nearby, Xie Jinfei and the two cousins from the second branch chattered noisily. All along the way, Song Xingyue couldn’t speak with him privately.
It was as if they were deliberately opposing her. Whatever she said, Xie Jinfei interrupted, again and again. Even Xie Linxu grew impatient. He looked at her, brows furrowed: “Your sister‑in‑law is speaking to me. Why must you always cut in?”
That night, Xie Linxu wore moon‑white brocade. Beneath the moon, he was stern and elegant, like an exiled immortal. His gaze was cold, like frost upon the eyes.
Xie Jinfei feared her elder brother. He was stricter even than the Duke. A slight chill in his face was enough to cow her. In that sense, she truly admired Song Xingyue—her skin was thick enough to endure it. No matter how her brother spoke, she could pretend not to hear.
After Xie Linxu coldly scolded Xie Jinfei, she finally quieted down, not daring to interrupt Song Xingyue again.
At last, Song Xingyue had the chance to speak a few casual words with him. Well, at least they had come out together. Even with the noise, it was better than not coming out at all.
Pointing to the rabbit lanterns along the street, Song Xingyue said to Xie Linxu: “Changzhou, let’s buy a few lanterns. They’re so beautiful.”
Xie Jinfei chatted with her cousins while half‑listening to the pair’s conversation. She wanted to cut in and disparage Song Xingyue, but remembering her brother’s earlier scolding, she forced herself to stay quiet.
Lanterns? At their age? Her brother would never indulge her.
Sure enough, Xie Linxu said: “Lanterns are for children. You’re already eighteen.”
Xie Jinfei thought: Exactly. For someone like him to allow such things would be strange indeed.
But Song Xingyue persisted: “Oh, what does it matter? Look around—everyone is carrying them. It’s just a lantern, not something only children can play with. Mid‑Autumn is about the festivity, that’s all.”
Xie Jinfei thought: She really is skilled at coaxing. But surely my brother won’t fall for it. Whenever I tried to act spoiled, he only drove me away with a cold face.
Yet as they walked, they came to a lantern stall.
Shouyuan took out the purse and bought four lanterns. Song Xingyue held one, while the other three were handed to the young ladies.
Xie Jinfei accepted hers reluctantly, muttering after a long pause: “So Brother also judges by appearances.”
It wasn’t that coaxing didn’t work—it was that *her* coaxing didn’t work.
Shouyuan found her words baffling, muttered to himself, and ignored her.
All the way, Xie Jinfei watched her brother buy sugar figures, sweet cakes, and clay dolls for his wife.
Walking beside him, Song Xingyue found everything novel, everything lively. She ate sugar figures, then sweet cakes. Xie Linxu frowned repeatedly, finally saying: “You ate plenty at supper, then a mooncake afterward. If you keep eating, you won’t digest it, and tonight you’ll be restless again.”
Once before, she had overeaten at night, unable to digest, tossing and turning until dawn. When he scolded her, she had murmured pitifully: “Changzhou, I’m so full, uncomfortable, I can’t sleep.”
He had replied: “Eat only to seven‑tenths full. Haven’t you learned? Must you stuff yourself until you’re sick?”
She had protested: “I wasn’t stuffed to death. I just didn’t expect it to feel so heavy later.”
He disliked her excuses. In the end, he ordered digestive medicine. She took it, then rolled about in bed until she finally slept—keeping him awake as well.
Remembering that, Song Xingyue laughed awkwardly, put away the sweet cake, and ate no more.
The group strolled along the street until, without noticing, they arrived before a restaurant on Chang’an Street.
Fengxiang Tower was a century‑old establishment, famed even in the previous dynasty. Just then, a group of young men, flushed with wine, came out in twos and threes. They walked together, laughter loud and spirited, brimming with youthful pride.
Song Xingyue lifted her eyes—and in that instant, it felt as though her blood surged to her head, leaving her dizzy. That man was looking at her too.
The youth wore a dark robe, eyes bright as stars, pupils deep as ink—carefree and dashing. Two years in the northern frontier had sharpened his features, darkened his complexion, lent him gravity. Yet the aura of youth still clung to him.
Their gazes met, and it felt like crossing mountains and rivers.
Song Xingyue broke the gaze first. She looked at him, but beyond that brief surge of emotion, she betrayed nothing. To her, he was a stranger now. He could only be a stranger.
Ji Jianyun withdrew his gaze too, as if he had seen nothing of consequence. He turned back to his companions, laughing, sparing them no further look, and passed them by. His two close friends, who knew of his past with Song Xingyue, waited until they were farther away before asking, “Mingyan, are you all right?”
Everyone had once known how deep their affection ran. But he had gone to war in the north, and when he returned, she was another man’s wife. How could his heart be at ease?
Ji Jianyun’s smile had already vanished. His lips pressed into a sharp line. Yet even so, he gave a light laugh: “What could be wrong with me?”
Should it be him who suffered? She acted as if nothing had happened—why should he be the one unsettled?
Still, his hand reached for the wine flask again, hoping to drown her image. But with each gulp, her face only grew clearer.
Two years. Two years had passed. Her face had haunted him all that time, blurred by countless attempts to forget. Yet just one glance tonight had brought it back into sharp focus.
His friends, seeing his indifference, said: “Ah, I hear her life in the Xie household isn’t so good. She abandoned you for higher status—she’ll regret it. Don’t cling to her memory. She’s just a woman chasing power. Why bother? Childhood love is fleeting. Now you carry military honors, young and accomplished—you can marry whomever you wish…”
Ji Jianyun cast him a sidelong glance. The friend, cowed, said no more: “Fine, fine. I’ll stop. I say one word about her, and you’re displeased.”
The three spoke no further. At their carriage, they parted ways.
But Ji Jianyun, watching them leave, stepped down again. His servant hurried after him: “Master, where are you going?”
Without turning back, Ji Jianyun walked toward Chang’an Street once more.
The servant sighed repeatedly, but could only follow.