What surprised him even more was that the young woman, who was supposedly “resting in bed” and suffering from “excessive shock,” was not lying on her couch at all.
She sat upright behind the rosewood desk by the window, her back straight. She wore a moon white casual ruqun, with a green satin half-sleeve jacket over it. Her long hair was loosely tied with a simple jade hairpin, and a few strands fell to the side of her neck. The pallor of her illness hadn’t faded; her face was still pale, her lips light in color. Yet, her eyes were clear and bright, focused intently on the object in her hands.
It was a slender carving tool and a piece of wood, already roughly shaped, with a tight, dark red grain—fine redwood. The carving tool moved steadily and deftly between her fingers. Wood shavings fluttered down, and besides the scent of medicine, a faint, unique woody fragrance drifted through the air.
Hearing the door open, the carving tool in her hand didn’t stop until she completed a delicate turn. Only then did she slowly raise her eyes to look at Zhan Shuo, who stood at the doorway.
Their eyes met.
“Master Zhan,” she said, setting down the carving tool and the unfinished redwood. She pointed to an empty rosewood chair opposite the desk. “Please sit.”
With that, she calmly picked up the warm white porcelain teapot from the desk and poured two cups of hot tea. The rising steam briefly blurred her pale face, making her eyes appear even clearer.
Zhan Shuo walked to the chair as instructed and calmly sat down.
“Miss Xie,” he began, his voice steady and even, “it seems your health is not as grave as rumored.”
Xie Lanyin gently pushed a cup of tea to the edge of the desk opposite him. She picked up her own cup, took a shallow sip, and then said, “And how would Master Zhan prefer me to be?”
“Would you prefer that upon hearing this imperial edict of marriage, I be overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, falling ill and henceforth confined to my bed, a pitiable person who is ‘as expected’ by all? Or, Master Zhan, do you perhaps hope that I would consider the overall situation, maintain propriety, suppress all inappropriate emotions, and joyfully, gratefully… await our marriage?”
She raised her eyes, her gaze clear and sharp, without the slightest shyness or apprehension expected of a new bride. There was only a calm, almost analytical scrutiny, directed straight at Zhan Shuo.
Zhan Shuo’s hand, poised to drink, almost imperceptibly paused.
With the rim of the cup at his lips, he looked up, meeting her gaze. A flicker of something akin to surprise swiftly passed through his usually deep and unfathomable eyes, immediately veiled by a deeper scrutiny.
This Miss Xie… was different from any reaction he had anticipated. There were no tearful grievances, no timid, fearful submission, and no false flattery. She had chosen a direct, almost provocative… questioning.
Heh.
Zhan Shuo slowly set down his teacup. The porcelain clinked softly against the small table with a faint “tap.” His face remained expressionless, but a subtle, unperceived ripple of strangeness stirred within him due to her unexpected sharpness.
This Xie Lanyin was not only bold, but her tongue… was quite skilled at retorting.
“How I wish it to be is not important. The Emperor’s will is decided, and the Empress Dowager’s benevolent edict has been issued. As for whether Miss Xie sits or lies, is ill or well, I presume Miss Xie will make her own decision.”
“Master Zhan, you are mistaken,” her voice was calmer than before, yet clearer, each word falling distinctly:
“I believe what Master Zhan thinks—is very important.”
An almost imperceptible ripple flickered in the depths of Zhan Shuo’s profound eyes. His fingers, resting on his lap, twitched ever so slightly.
He understood the weight of her words.
However, before he could formulate a response, Xie Lanyin suddenly changed the subject.
“Master Zhan… do you have any favorite flowers or plants?”
Zhan Shuo was slightly taken aback. The topic shifted too abruptly, completely different from any subsequent development he had envisioned.
“…Flowers?” he repeated, a barely discernible hesitation in his tone.
Immediately, he regained his usual indifference, his voice steady and even, even tinged with a self-aware aloofness: “I am but a military man, Master Zhan, constantly dealing with criminal justice records. I have no appreciation for refined tastes, nor any interest in them. If I had to say…”
“In the wild fields outside the city, those dogtail grasses that can’t be burned away or trampled to death, they’re somewhat pleasing to the eye. They grow wherever they please, are tough, unremarkable, but also… not so easy to get rid of.”
This answer carried his characteristic, almost ruthless pragmatism, and even a hint of imperceptible self-mockery—comparing himself to such humble, tenacious weeds.
He was stating a fact, and also drawing a line: Do not judge me by romantic sentiments.
Unexpectedly, Xie Lanyin let out a soft laugh.
“Is that so?” Her eyelashes curved slightly. “How coincidental.”
She looked at him again, her eyes clear:
“I don’t love peonies or admire orchids and chrysanthemums. What I like are dandelions.”
She paused, as if choosing her words, and also as if observing his reaction:
“A gust of wind, and they scatter, seemingly delicate and rootless, drifting aimlessly. Yet every seed that floats away, no matter how barren the crack in the stone or the corner of the wall it lands in, as long as there’s a bit of soil, a drop of water, it can firmly take root again and grow anew.”
“Unremarkable, but… tenacious enough, resourceful enough to… make their own way.”
Zhan Shuo’s gaze lingered on her smile.
He could confirm that the smile was not forced, nor was it deliberately feigned. It was faint, fleeting, but it genuinely spread from her eyes, illuminating a small patch of light on her pale face, carrying a sense of… almost candid ease, and even a hint of the vitality a girl her age should possess.
This smile was real.
Then, was “liking dandelions” also real? Or was it merely a “convenient” response she came up with on the spur of the moment after hearing his “dogtail grass” answer?
If it was the latter… was she trying to accommodate him?
Why would she accommodate him?
Xie Lanyin picked up the unformed redwood piece on the table. “This is my wedding gift for Master Zhan. Though crude, it is handmade.”
“I wonder, Master Zhan, aside from that wild goose, have you also taken the trouble to prepare anything for me?” She emphasized “taken the trouble” lightly and clearly.
“I will personally prepare it for the young lady,” Zhan Shuo replied. Even if he had never thought about it, at this moment, he couldn’t say he had made no preparations.
Xie Lanyin quietly watched him for a moment. The clear, sharp light in her eyes seemed to settle, transforming into a deeper scrutiny.
“Since Master Zhan, like me, holds certain ‘personal’ expectations for this marriage… there are some things I wish to make clear to Master Zhan before the wedding.”
She raised her eyes, her gaze unflinchingly locking onto him:
“Master Zhan, before the imperial decree of marriage, did you have a woman you favored in your heart?”