As the end of the year approached, both inside and outside the palace became exceedingly busy. As a prince, Yan Huaijin’s official duties were endless, so since the start of the twelfth lunar month, he and Pei Yunting had scarcely seen each other a handful of times.
Zhou Sinian was no less overwhelmed. The Dali Temple seemed cursed lately—countless cases had piled up at year’s end, and every miscellaneous matter landed squarely on his shoulders. Pei Yunting happened to run into him once while out, but after exchanging hurried greetings, they had gone their separate ways.
Although she was not yet responsible for managing the household, she felt she ought to begin learning, so recently she had followed behind Pei Yaosheng, helping her handle various domestic affairs. By nightfall, she was so exhausted that she fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.
On New Year’s Eve, Lady Lin Shuyu entered the palace with Pei Yunting, Pei Yaosheng, Pei Xuan and Pei Hui from the second branch, and Pei Ran from the third branch to attend the imperial banquet.
Although the second and third branches were collateral lines of the family, Lin Shuyu had never treated them harshly. However, the longstanding conflict between the legitimate and collateral branches of the Pei family spanned generations and could not be resolved overnight. Thus, while they maintained cordial appearances, they were never truly united behind the scenes. Even so, whenever there were grand celebrations or festivals, and circumstances permitted, Lin Shuyu always tried to bring all the young ladies with her.
As their carriage passed through the bustling streets, the lively voices outside the window filled the air. She suddenly thought of the young man who had once leaned against the carriage wall with his eyes closed in quiet rest. Counting on her fingers, she realized it had been a full ten days since they had last met.
As night fell, countless lanterns illuminated the sky. From the overpasses to the main avenues, shops and buildings stretched one after another in orderly rows. The streets overflowed with people out celebrating beneath dazzling lights and glittering decorations.
While Lin Shuyu brewed tea at the low table, Pei Yaosheng leaned toward her absent-minded younger sister and pressed a hand against her chest.
“Wanwan, I don’t know why, but my heart has been pounding nonstop. It hasn’t calmed down for quite some time. Do you think… something important is going to happen tonight?”
Pei Yunting snapped out of her thoughts and comforted her.
“Elder Sister, don’t frighten yourself. You’ve probably been overworking lately and haven’t rested well. Tonight is New Year’s Eve—a joyous occasion. You should be happy.”
Even so, Pei Yaosheng still looked deeply troubled.
“I hope you’re right…”
Before the banquet officially began, Pei Yunting finally saw Zhou Sinian again after many days. His face looked noticeably worn.
He first bowed respectfully to Lin Shuyu, exchanged a few polite words with her, then turned toward Pei Yunting. Seeing the concern in her eyes, he forced a faint smile, silently assuring her that he was fine.
From the moment Zhou Sinian appeared, Pei Hui’s affectionate gaze had never left him.
Unfortunately, Zhou Sinian never once looked her way, perfectly illustrating the saying: one may be willing, but the other remains indifferent.
Pei Yunting and Pei Yaosheng exchanged a glance, inwardly sneering.
Only Pei Ran lowered her head quietly, causing no unnecessary trouble.
…
Rows of candles illuminated the great hall as brightly as daylight.
The Forbidden City always appeared unchanged—its carved balustrades, jade palaces, and orderly pavilions standing exactly as they always had. Only amidst the music, dancing, flowing wine, and festive merriment did it finally display a hint of earthly celebration.
Golden cups were raised in celebration while graceful dancers performed in the center of the hall. The sounds of zithers, flutes, and pipa never ceased, the pipa’s notes cascading like pearls upon jade, as melodious as birds singing beneath blooming flowers or spring water murmuring through hidden valleys.
Seated among the ladies, Pei Yunting could keenly feel an ardent gaze repeatedly falling upon her.
Yet she never once looked back.
After the customary toasts and the imperial consorts had presented their gifts, the Emperor and Empress would invite several outstanding young gentlemen and ladies to present poetry or display their talents.
Princess Nanping eagerly volunteered, performing a dance she had painstakingly learned from foreign dancers over many days. It earned generous praise and rewards from Their Majesties.
Filled with anticipation, she looked toward Yan Huaijin, believing her efforts would surely catch his eye this time.
Little did she know that he had watched only briefly at the beginning before turning to quietly instruct Zhanzhao behind him, paying no further attention to her dance.
Seeing his indifferent expression, disappointment flooded Nanping’s heart. Returning to her seat, she buried herself in wine and lost all interest in everyone else’s performances.
Meanwhile, on the Zhen’an Marquis Manor’s side, Pei Yaosheng had always been the most renowned among the sisters.
Naturally, she was the first to be called upon to perform.
She excelled at playing the konghou. At previous palace banquets and poetry gatherings, her performances had always dazzled the audience, earning praise that compared her music to:
“Like jade shattering upon Kunlun Mountain and phoenixes crying; lotus flowers weeping with dew while orchids smiled in fragrance.”
Her fingers danced across the strings, producing layered, intertwining melodies that flowed as naturally as birdsong beneath flowering branches—graceful, smooth, and utterly captivating.
When the performance ended, the Emperor and Empress dispensed with the usual formal compliments.
Instead, as though they had been waiting for this very moment, the Empress smiled and beckoned Aunt Jing behind her.
“I’ve watched you grow up. And now you’re already betrothed… Time truly passes swiftly.”
Pei Yaosheng had no idea why the Empress suddenly brought this up, but she still replied modestly,
“Your Majesty and Her Majesty have shown my sister and me endless kindness over the years. We remain forever grateful.”
Among those seated below, Pei Yunting knew the Empress’s temperament well.
The moment those first words were spoken, she sensed something unusual.
Following that intuition, she caught sight of a corner of a black robe outside the palace doors.
Instant understanding dawned upon her.
“I’ve always enjoyed watching young people reunite in happiness…” the Empress said with a smile. “Yaosheng, turn around. See who’s come.”
Pei Yaosheng froze.
At last, she understood the Empress’s intention, disbelief filling her eyes.
Turning around abruptly, she saw the person she had not seen for so long slowly walking into the hall.
Moonlight poured down like flowing silver, pure as snow and cold as frost.
The scene resembled a painting brought to life.
Meeting her ever-changing gaze, filled with countless emotions, the man in black knelt beside her and saluted the Emperor and Empress.
“This humble official arrived late. I beg Your Majesty’s punishment.”
Emperor Ren’an chuckled heartily and waved a hand.
“Why stand on ceremony? On New Year’s Eve, you rushed back with all your might simply to surprise the one you love. I certainly won’t be the one to separate lovers. Enough—you two may withdraw. Once you’ve returned home, take your time catching up.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After completing his salute, he rose and extended a hand to help Pei Yaosheng stand.
Seeing her avoiding his gaze while her cheeks flushed red, he said in a low voice,
“It was my fault. Tomorrow, I’ll personally visit your home to apologize.”
Watching the pair standing together hand in hand in the center of the hall, warmth quietly spread through Pei Yunting’s heart.
New Year’s Eve truly was a day meant for reunions.
…
“Do not lament that spring fades too quickly. Though this year’s spring has passed, there will always be another.”
During the banquet, Zhanzhao quietly delivered a message to Pei Yunting on Yan Huaijin’s behalf.
“Leave the banquet in three quarters of an hour. Meet at Chengqian Palace.”
After informing Lin Shuyu, she quietly excused herself without attracting anyone’s attention.
As she walked beneath the palace corridors, she suddenly heard someone reciting melancholy verses.
She paused.
Recognizing the figure ahead, she offered a courteous salute.
“I did not mean to disturb your peace. But on such a wonderful night as New Year’s Eve, why not drink happily instead of sighing so sorrowfully?”
The man turned around.
He was a slender, refined young man who looked so frail that a strong gust of wind might carry him away.
“No matter,” he replied gently. “We’ve met once before. There’s no need to be so reserved.”
She searched her memory but couldn’t place him.
“May I ask who you are?”
“You’ve forgotten?” He slowly straightened up and carefully looked her over. “You’ve grown quite a bit taller.”
That only made him seem even more familiar.
“Where have we met before?”
The young man laughed softly.
“Young Lady truly has a noble person’s memory.” He waved it off. “I am the youngest son of Chancellor Han. It’s a rare occasion for me to accompany my father to the banquet. Unfortunately, I drank a little too much and couldn’t hold my liquor, so I came out to enjoy the cold breeze.”
Pei Yunting knew he was lying.
Likewise, he knew she was clever enough to recognize the lie without exposing it.
She knew very little about him—not even his name.
She only knew that Chancellor Han’s youngest son had been the capital’s most famous invalid since childhood. Rumor had it that he had been born weak from the womb. Countless renowned physicians had examined him after birth, yet none had been able to save him.
The icy winter wind swept through the corridor, lifting the hem of her skirt.
Half comforting him and half testing the waters, she said,
“…Don’t be sad. If there’s no one you can talk to, you can tell me instead. I keep my word. I won’t repeat a single thing you say.”
Looking at her utterly serious expression, the young man burst into laughter.
“Hahaha…”
“What are you laughing at?” she asked earnestly. “I was being serious.”
Before she could say anything else, Yan Huaijin’s voice called her name from the distance.
Pei Yunting bowed politely to the young man beneath the corridor.
“I should be going now. Young Master, you shouldn’t stay out in the cold any longer either, or you’ll catch a chill. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”
“Very well. Go on.”
He withdrew his gaze.
The place where her skirts had fluttered moments before now seemed as though no one had ever stood there.
From beginning to end, he had always been alone.
“The Zhen’an Marquis Manor… Pei Yunting.”