Seven years later, it was autumn once again.
Lu Chengyu had finished practicing the qin. When his fingertips left the strings, a trace of lingering irritation still clung to him. As he rose, the hem of his robe swept across the stone bench and nudged the teacup beside him, making it wobble. Shen Qingqing immediately stepped forward and firmly steadied the bottom of the cup. Not a single drop of the warm tea spilled.
“Clean it up.” Lu Chengyu tossed down the words indifferently, then turned and walked toward the study. His back was proud and aloof, and he did not look at her even once.
Shen Qingqing silently acknowledged him. She first arranged the qin score in page order, then carefully wiped the body of the qin with a soft cloth, moving gently and refusing to miss even the fine dust on the strings. Moqin came over carrying freshly brewed tea. Looking at Shen Qingqing’s demure appearance, she could not help sighing softly. “Young Madam, Young Master clearly drinks only the tea you brew and uses only the books you organize, yet he insists on treating you coldly. Honestly…”
Shen Qingqing’s fingertips paused, then resumed their usual movements. She carefully placed the polished qin into its case. “Young Master’s temperament is not something we should discuss. It is enough for me to serve him well.”
Her words were calm, but a faint bitterness passed through her heart. After seven years together, she had long since learned all his preferences. He was sensitive to the cold, so the soups and stews served to him in autumn always had to be at exactly the right temperature. He disliked bitterness, so he always had to be given a candied fruit after taking his medicine. He was a clean freak, so his clothes were washed and starched smooth every day, then scented with a faint fragrance of sandalwood.
She had done these things for seven years, until they were as familiar as breathing.
Yet in Lu Chengyu’s eyes, she was nothing more than a maid bought for a marriage to bring good fortune, an insignificant passage in his illustrious identity.
After putting away the qin and its accessories, Shen Qingqing carried the teacup toward the study. Just as she reached the door, she heard Lu Chengyu conversing with his pageboy inside. His tone was light and relaxed, a manner of ease he had never shown in her presence.
“The letter from the Capital says that Miss Su will be arriving in Jiangnan next month for a brief stay. She’ll also be bringing some newly composed qin scores.” The pageboy’s voice held a hint of excitement.
Rare laughter colored Lu Chengyu’s voice. “Really? She still remembers that I enjoy listening to such things.”
Miss Su. Shen Qingqing knew perfectly well that he meant Su Luowei, the legitimate daughter of the Chancellor’s Residence—the noble-born woman of outstanding beauty and talent whom everyone considered a match made in Heaven for Lu Chengyu.
She gently pushed open the door, placed the teacup in the most convenient spot at the corner of the desk, then lowered her eyes and stepped aside, like a shadow without warmth.
When Lu Chengyu caught sight of her, the smile on his face instantly faded, and he returned to his usual indifferent expression. “Just leave the tea there. Go out. Don’t disturb me while I’m reading.”
“Yes.” Shen Qingqing bent her knees in a curtsy. As she turned, the hem of her robe lightly brushed the threshold. The fragrance of osmanthus drifted in from outside and tangled itself in her hair, yet it could not warm the calmness in her eyes.
She had just reached the corridor when she encountered Nanny Zhou, who was bringing two young maids in her direction. A polite yet distant smile was arranged across Nanny Zhou’s face. “Young Madam, Madam Lu sent some things from the Capital. She said they were for Young Master, and that there was also a share for you.”
Shen Qingqing followed Nanny Zhou to the front hall to receive the items. On the tray were two bolts of superior cloud brocade, a box of rouge of exceptional quality, and a silver hairpin set with a pearl. Every item was rare and fine. Nanny Zhou looked at her, and a little sincerity entered her otherwise courteous expression. “Madam said that you guard Young Master day after day here in Jiangnan and have worked very hard. These things were specially prepared for you. She wants you to take proper care of yourself and not neglect your health too much.”
Holding the tray, Shen Qingqing’s fingertips brushed against the soft sheen of the cloud brocade. She understood that although Madam Lu was far away in the Capital, she still remembered how hard Shen Qingqing worked caring for Young Master. Within this reward was genuine kindness and consideration.
Shen Qingqing lowered her eyes and answered, “Nanny, please put your mind at ease. Qingqing understands.”
She carried the items back to the east wing room, folded the fabrics into the cabinet, and placed the rouge in the corner of the dressing table, where it remained untouched. Moqin watched with heartache and bit her lip. “Young Madam, you clearly saved Young Master and cared for him for seven years. How can Young Master treat you this way?”
Shen Qingqing sat beside the window. Her fingertips picked up a fallen osmanthus blossom from the sill, and she gently rubbed it between them. “I came here for a marriage to bring good fortune in the first place. Once Young Master recovered, I had fulfilled my duty. I have food and clothing, and I can live in peace. That is enough.”
Though she said this, she knew in her heart that this peace was ultimately no more than flowers reflected in a mirror and the moon seen in water. Lu Chengyu was growing healthier by the day, and noble young ladies from the Capital were coming to call. Young Master had always treated her coldly. Sooner or later, this maid who had been brought in for a marriage to bring good fortune would become a trace the Lu Family was eager to erase.
When night fell, Qingyuan Pavilion was utterly quiet. Only moonlight filtered through the window lattice, scattering a clear radiance across the floor.
Lu Chengyu habitually coughed twice in the night. Shen Qingqing immediately awoke from her light sleep, put on her robe, and quietly walked to the main room. Skillfully, she poured warm water and fetched the loquat syrup she had prepared, then went to the bedside.
In the darkness, Lu Chengyu was not fully asleep. Sensing someone approaching, he instinctively asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Young Master.” Shen Qingqing answered softly as she held the cup of water out to him. “The air is dry at night. Have some water to soothe your throat.”
Lu Chengyu took the cup. His fingertips touched her hand, which was icy cold. He paused, then looked toward her by the light of the moon. She wore a thin, plain garment, and her hair was loosely pinned up. Her brows and eyes appeared especially gentle in the night.
Over these seven years, he had long since grown accustomed to having her by his side. He was accustomed to waking and finding that she had already prepared warm water. He was accustomed to her quiet silence whenever he was irritable. He was accustomed to her keeping vigil beside his bed without leaving even a single step whenever his illness acted up.
He had never thought carefully about where this habit came from. He had merely taken it for the duty a servant ought to fulfill.
“Why are you still awake?” Lu Chengyu asked, his tone several degrees gentler than it had been during the day.
“You tend to cough at night, Young Master. I feel more at ease keeping watch over you.” Shen Qingqing took back the empty cup and lowered her eyes. “Go back to sleep for a while. I’ll be in the outer room.”
She was about to withdraw when Lu Chengyu gently caught her by the wrist.
He himself was startled. His fingertips touched the fine bone of her slender wrist, and an inexplicable tightness seized his heart. Then he released her, his tone returning to indifference. “It’s cold at night. Put on another layer.”
“Yes. Thank you for your concern, Young Master.” Shen Qingqing bent her knees in a curtsy, then turned and left the room, gently closing the door behind her.
Standing beneath the corridor, she felt the autumn wind sweep toward her, carrying the fragrance of osmanthus. She raised a hand and touched her wrist. The warmth of his fingertips still lingered there.
She sighed softly, but her eyes remained calm and unruffled.
Some forms of dependence were merely his habits; some acts of devotion were simply her duty.
Nothing more.
The moonlight stretched her shadow into a slender shape across the ground carpeted with osmanthus petals, so quiet that it seemed she had never existed at all.
Inside the room, however, Lu Chengyu lay on the bed, unable to sleep for a long while. He thought of her cold hand just now. He thought of the way she had served him day after day for seven years. He thought of how he and Su Luowei had been childhood sweethearts. If not for his health, they probably would have been formally betrothed long ago, right? The Taoist priest had said that once he passed the age of fifteen, his body would be completely recovered. At that time, when he returned to the Capital, Luo Wei would surely be very happy, right? Yes, Su Luowei was the one who ought to be his wife. Qingqing was not bad either. In consideration of how she had served him with all her heart for so many years, he would not mistreat her. He could simply make her a respectable concubine. Yes, that way, he would not be failing her either. She was so foolish; with him protecting her, she would be free of worries for the rest of her life.
Thinking this way, Lu Chengyu finally felt that everything was perfect. He turned over and fell asleep…
Outside the window, the fragrance of osmanthus remained. The night at Qingyuan Pavilion was long and quiet.