Chapter 21: Heartache, A Bizarre Beauty

In the evening, Su Zhenyue took down the zither hanging on the wall and idly plucked its strings.

The gurgling notes flowed, sounding quite cheerful.

When she finished the piece, Nanxing couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Miss, what on earth has made you so happy?”

She had wanted to ask this question since the afternoon.

Su Zhenyue didn’t answer, only smiling. “Guess.”

“It’s because of Young Master Shen, isn’t it?” Nanxing conjectured.

Su Zhenyue lowered her gaze and remained silent for a few breaths before asking, “Why do you say that? Is it that obvious?”

“Miss has been seeking out Young Master Shen frequently these past few days. Although it’s for proper business, you’ve been going a bit too often. Even before, with the Heir Apparent, you didn’t interact this frequently,” Nanxing said, watching her expression. “Besides, Miss has been smiling ever since you returned from Qingfeng Courtyard today. If it’s not because of the Young Master, who else could it be?”

Su Zhenyue sighed and said softly, “It’s because of him, and yet it’s not. Nanxing, it’s actually a very important matter that I’m about to complete.”

—If that person wasn’t Shen Ji, but someone else, she would probably be just as happy.

Nanxing blinked, somewhat confused.

Su Zhenyue didn’t elaborate, only squeezing Nanxing’s hand. “In any case, we will both be fine.”

The sharp sword hanging over her head had finally moved a little farther away.

That night, Su Zhenyue slept very peacefully.

The next day, she set about trimming wintersweet branches for Shen Ji.

The tender yellow wintersweet blossoms hung on the branches, defying the frost and snow, their fragrance cold and secluded.

Su Zhenyue picked and chose, selecting two branches she was satisfied with. She found a celadon vase herself and arranged the wintersweet in it. Instead of going in person, she had Doukou deliver it to Qingfeng Courtyard.

—Their relationship had just grown a little closer yesterday. At this moment, she couldn’t be overly eager.

Su Zhenyue carefully instructed Doukou, “This is a thank-you gift. Be careful on your way.”

“I know,” Doukou replied, and carried the vase to Qingfeng Courtyard.

About half an hour later, Doukou returned. When she came back, she was unexpectedly carrying another vase, this one holding red plum blossoms.

Su Zhenyue was slightly taken aback. “The red plums have bloomed too?”

That was right. It was already the twelfth month; wasn’t it time for the red plums to bloom?

“Yes,” Doukou answered crisply. “The Young Master cut these in the Plum Garden. He said he cut too many and wanted to give some to you, Miss.”

“I see. Go put it on the table,” Su Zhenyue instructed casually. Then her gaze shifted, and she belatedly noticed the vase’s appearance.

The vase Doukou was holding was no longer the celadon one from the West Wing Courtyard, but a high-necked white porcelain vase with a red peony pattern.

On the plain white, high-necked vase, two splendid peonies were in full, gorgeous bloom, complementing the red plum blossoms within.

It wasn’t quite harmonious, but it possessed a bizarre sort of beauty.

Peonies?

A peony pattern was rather rare.

“Wait!” Su Zhenyue called out to Doukou. “Give it to me. I’ll put it down.”

She walked over quickly, took the vase from Doukou’s arms, and carefully placed it on the table by the window.

The fragrance of red plums was elegant and subtle, different from that of wintersweet.

If she wasn’t mistaken, both the peony pattern and the red plums had been specially chosen by Shen Ji.

She had to admire the excuse he had given Doukou.

…

Shen Ji had promised Fourth Young Master Gu that he would write out the Painting Sutra for him from memory. As his thoughts had been in turmoil for the past two days, he decided to take the time to do it. He had Ping An spread the paper and grind the ink, and he began to write it out from the beginning.

The Painting Sutra was not a very long book.

Using his spare time, Shen Ji wrote intermittently, finishing the transcription amidst the cold fragrance of wintersweet. He then had Ping An deliver it to Gu Yuanjing.

Gu Yuanjing was naturally grateful and came to thank him again in person.

In the study, his eyes fell upon the wintersweet on the table, and he let out a soft “Yi.”

“What is it?” Shen Ji raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Has this wintersweet been replaced?” Gu Yuanjing asked hesitantly.

He remembered that the last time he saw it, it had already begun to wither.

“Mm, it has,” Shen Ji replied, a hint of a smile rippling in his eyes as he added nonchalantly, “That friend sent some more.”

Gu Yuanjing nodded. “Nice.”

Shen Ji waited for him to say a few more words, but unexpectedly, he changed the subject directly. A flicker of disappointment crossed his heart, but he said nothing more.

Gu Yuanjing did not stay long, leaving after a short while.

Shen Ji rose to see him off.

Just as the two reached the courtyard, they saw Ping An approaching with a white cat with a black tail in his arms. He said with a grin, “Young Master, the cat from the West Wing Courtyard jumped the wall and came over here. I’ll take it back to Miss Su.”

The cat clung to Ping An’s clothes, meowing incessantly.

“The West Wing Courtyard?” Gu Yuanjing was slightly surprised. “A Yue raises a cat too?”

Shen Ji’s brow twitched. “A Yue? You mean Miss Su?”

“Ah, yes, Miss Su. It’s what I called her when we were children, and I’ve forgotten to change it after all these years,” Gu Yuanjing said with a slightly embarrassed smile. Fearing Shen Ji might not understand, he explained, “A Yue’s father was an Adjutant General under my uncle. He sacrificed his life on the battlefield eleven years ago. When her grandmother heard the news, she was overcome with grief and passed away soon after. A Yue is the same age as me; she was only six at the time. All alone and with no one to rely on, she was brought into the Gu family.”

“Eleven years ago?” Shen Ji frowned. “The suppression of the southwest rebellion?”

“Yes.”

Shen Ji’s learning was extremely varied, and he had some knowledge of major court affairs. Eleven years ago, a rebellion broke out on the southwestern border, and Jing’an Hou, Gu Nianzhang, was ordered to lead the troops. That same winter, the imperial army fought a fierce battle with the rebel forces for several days, finally quelling the rebellion at the cost of tens of thousands of soldiers and generals.

A thought stirred in his mind, and Shen Ji asked, “Is that General Su’s death anniversary on the twenty-ninth of the eleventh month?”

Fourth Young Master Gu paused. “The twenty-ninth? I’m not too sure about that.”

After all, he had only been six years old at the time.

Shen Ji fell silent, thinking to himself that it was almost certainly the case.

He had only known that she was an orphan whose parents were both deceased, forced to live in the Marquis’s residence. He never expected this to be her story.

Remembering the scene of her secretly offering respects that night, Shen Ji suddenly felt a pang of heartache.

After Fourth Young Master Gu left, Shen Ji stared in the direction of the West Wing Courtyard, lost in thought for a while.

…

Having succeeded in the broader direction, Su Zhenyue was no longer in such a hurry. She didn’t seize every opportunity to find Shen Ji as she had before.

After all, the Spring Examination was imminent, and she didn’t want to be a variable that caused him to perform poorly.

Of course, she couldn’t be too lax either.

The following afternoon, Su Zhenyue found an excuse to visit Qingfeng Courtyard again.

Shen Ji was drinking tea in the Warm Pavilion. Hearing the commotion, he immediately came out into the courtyard, his expression a little odd. “I thought you weren’t coming over anymore.”

—For the past two days, she hadn’t come in person, instead sending that little maid named Doukou to deliver things.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to avoid suspicion.

Su Zhenyue took a few steps closer and said in a very low voice, “Cousin, the words you spoke in the Warm Pavilion that day, do they still count?”

Shen Ji raised his eyebrows and asked deliberately, “Which words?”

“Ah?” Su Zhenyue was stunned, her face paling slightly. “You—”

Shen Ji let out a soft “tsk.” “When I say something, I naturally mean it. Cousin can rest assured.”

In just a few short breaths, Su Zhenyue’s mood had risen and fallen several times. She couldn’t help but shoot him a glare.

The young lady’s eyes shimmered. Shen Ji chuckled, a slight itch stirring in his chest.

Su Zhenyue still had a legitimate reason for coming this time.

She took out an old music score. “Cousin, this music score was left to me by my mother, but for some reason, it has a few holes in it. I heard from Ping An that you know how to repair books. I was wondering if you could teach me?”

Seeing her turn to proper business, Shen Ji reined in his smile and accepted the score with a serious expression, flipping through it carefully for a moment.

The method for repairing books was simple; most scholars knew it. But Shen Ji didn’t tell her this directly. Instead, he said, “Leave the music score here. Come back for it in three days.”

—This way, they would have another legitimate reason to meet again in three days.

“Thank you, Cousin.” After a thought, Su Zhenyue added, “This music score is very important to me.”

Shen Ji sighed and said softly, “Although your parents are no longer in this world, they would hope from the netherworld that the living can be happy.”

Su Zhenyue was a little surprised. She blinked, realizing he was trying to comfort her.

“I know,” Su Zhenyue said with a smile. “Actually, I… I don’t miss them that much…”

Thinking of her deceased parents, she was inexplicably at a loss for words. After a long moment, she only managed to say, “I can barely remember what they looked like.”

The words were spoken calmly, but they were clearly tinged with a forced heartache.

Shen Ji didn’t speak, only giving her a deep look.

Three days later, Su Zhenyue went to Qingfeng Courtyard to retrieve the music score.

But Shen Ji first handed her a painting.

“What is it?” Su Zhenyue asked, puzzled.

“Open it and see.”

Su Zhenyue did as she was told. After a brief, stunned moment, her nose tingled, and tears almost burst from her eyes.

The painting was of a young general with thick brows and large eyes—exactly the image of her father in her memory.