Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
My sister said Xie Xun must be like the men in storybooks who said the opposite of what they felt.
Desperately fond of someone, yet determined to seem indifferent.
When I came of age and returned from my grandmother’s to the Song household, she took me to meet him for the first time.
He turned away after one glance, refusing to look again.
Irritably, he said, “Whose country girl is this? She’s hideous.”
My sister was so angry she threw a bowl of tea over him.
Later, when she took me out with them, he still never looked at me.
She told me secretly that he had approached her in private.
He asked her to pass a few little trinkets to me as an apology.
And not tell me.
“Of course I’ll tell you. You’re my sister, not a stranger.”
Yet whenever I looked at him, his eyes were always on her.
I couldn’t make sense of it.
Only after our wedding did I gain a little conviction.
Xie Xun liked me too.
It shattered quickly.
My sister died.
Somehow, he heard that I had secretly swapped her painting to win first place. Without me, she should have been his wife. She wouldn’t have died in the fire.
Overnight, we became distant. More estranged than before.
He regretted it again and again, repeatedly demanding to know where her grave was.
His devotion made me sick.
I couldn’t accept it either.
I would never tell him.
Neither of us yielded, even as I lay dying.
At least I played one last trick on him before I died.
6
His rudeness displeased his mother.
“Xun, come back.”
Someone pulled him aside.
“Miss Zhou and the elder Miss Song, please come forward.”
A peach branch was put into his hand.
As in my previous life, his mother asked, “Give it to whichever lady’s painting you prefer.”
Everyone knew what lay beneath it: give it to the woman you liked, the woman you wanted as your consort.
I gripped my handkerchief and stared at the branch, afraid he would give it to my sister.
Instead, he stood unsteadily, motionless, as though sleepwalking.
His mother had to remind him again before he came to himself.
His voice weakened.
“Mother, there are so many paintings today. Perhaps I should take more time to consider…”
After a while, she smoothed things over.
“True. With so many begonias, they’re very evenly matched.”
“Think carefully. Decide when you’re sure.”
I breathed in relief.
My sister still had a chance to change things.
The banquet had left me tired.
Before I went, she held my hand reluctantly.
“There’s still time. Come home with me, Xiaoxue. Can’t we talk all night?”
I looked at Mother. Her expression was unreadable. She nodded.
“You haven’t seen your sister for a long time. She misses you terribly. Visit when you have time.”
Trying to bring Mother and me closer, my sister teased, “Not just me. Mother misses you too.”
Warmth filled my heart. I was about to agree when her gaze passed over my shoulder.
“Oh dear. Perhaps not today.”
Confused, I turned.
Jiang Huaiyou’s graceful figure stood not far away.
Meeting her teasing eyes, I blushed involuntarily.
He approached and bowed respectfully to Mother and my sister.
“I’ve been remiss. I intended to visit properly with Jinxue once the work was settled. Please forgive me, Mother and Sister.”
Mother smiled.
“We’re family. No need to speak of formal visits. Just come home when you can.”
In the carriage, I complained that sitting so long had made my lower back ache.
Before I finished, his hands settled at my waist and slowly kneaded with firm pressure.
He suddenly murmured, “Hm?” and looked through the window.
“Who’s that? Why is he staring at you?”
I looked out doubtfully but saw no one. I leaned against his chest.
“Perhaps you imagined it.”
7
Xie Xun shifted and slipped into the shadows.
He had nearly been discovered.
His mind was still in turmoil.