Chapter Thirty-Four: Shadows Deepen

Lu Ying read her book for a while and soon forgot all about the young man. She busied herself with reading and writing until the sun dipped toward the west. Remembering that her younger brother would be out of school soon, she quickly picked up her basket and set out for the market to buy some vegetables.

She walked through the alleys with her head down, but as she went, she sensed a gaze fixed upon her. Lu Ying stopped and slowly turned around.

As she looked back, she saw the boy from next door once again. He appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen years old, right at the cusp of adolescence, clad in a simple blue scholar’s robe. Though it was the most common attire for a student, on him it gave an air of understated rigor and elegance.

He stood tall and straight, though his frame was slender and long. His fair skin had not yet gained the sheen of maturity, and an obvious blemish stood out at his throat. But none of these details mattered—what caught Lu Ying’s attention was that simply by standing there, the youth exuded an aloof, clear beauty.

Especially his eyes: they were like brushstrokes from an ink painting, delicately layered, always shrouded by a faint mist, as if only the rarest sights in this world could truly reach them.

It was almost impossible to imagine that this same boy had, not long ago, scrambled over her garden wall, and had even tumbled down in such a sorry state.

At this thought, Lu Ying couldn’t help but chuckle to herself: What am I thinking? However cold and proud he may look, he’s still just a boy of fifteen or sixteen.

Now, the youth with features as if painted was staring at Lu Ying from beneath long lashes. When she met his gaze, he pressed his lips together as though he meant to look away, but instead, he fixed his eyes on her with even greater resolve. Only the tips of his ears gradually flushed with red.

This youth, so exquisitely cold in his beauty, exuded an aura that kept others at a distance, yet drew them in irresistibly. Lu Ying had never seen anything quite like it. Looking at him, she suddenly recalled a phrase she had once overheard last year, passing by the Fifth Branch of the Ping family: “I know he hates me! But somehow, when he stands there, properly dressed and expressionless, staring at me, I just want to tear off his robes and force him to kneel before me, begging for mercy!”

After a long moment of eye contact, the boy spoke hoarsely: “My name is Yin Che.”

Yin Che? The name sounded familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere before. Lu Ying pondered for a while but could not recall, so she simply nodded.

The boy’s ears reddened further, yet his gaze grew even more intent.

He waited for Lu Ying’s reply, as if hoping she would say something in return.

But what could she say? Lu Ying lowered her head, murmured an assent, and turned to leave.

Seeing this, the boy called after her anxiously, “Wait, A Ying…”

He hurried a few steps to catch up, stopping behind her, his voice dry as he said, “I’m sixteen this year, and I… I haven’t been promised to anyone. My family only moved to Hanyang four months ago.”

What was he doing—introducing himself?

Lu Ying, for reasons unknown, felt her own cheeks grow warm. She opened her mouth, gave another soft assent, and quickened her pace.

When she tried to leave, the boy rushed after her, grabbing the handle of Lu Ying’s basket and awkwardly offering, “Let me carry this for you.”

“No need.”

“…I heard you broke off your engagement. I—I don’t have a betrothal either, so it’s all right.”

Listening to his crisp voice stumble over such words, Lu Ying almost wanted to laugh. Just because neither of them was engaged, did that mean they could so boldly walk together?

“This isn’t proper,” Lu Ying said, glancing back at the boy. As she expected, when her eyes met his, he immediately turned his head aside, but by now, the red at his ears had spread across his cheeks.

The boy refused to look at her but still clung to the basket, and Lu Ying found herself at a loss. She pressed her lips together and said softly, “This isn’t proper.”

As she spoke, she gently brushed his hand away with her left hand. At the touch of her fingers, the boy’s hand trembled and released its grip. Even after Lu Ying had walked far down the alley, he still stood there, head lowered, staring at the hand she had just touched.

At that moment, a woman’s voice called from nearby, “Che’er, Che’er?”

She called several times, then opened a side door with a creak. Spotting the silent boy, she cast a disapproving glance toward Lu Ying’s house at the end of the alley and called out, “Che’er, didn’t you hear what your aunt told you yesterday? That family has fallen on hard times; that girl is nothing more than a common village girl—worse yet, a village girl who’s been jilted and slandered. You’ll have to return to Luoyang someday. Girls from such small places are not fit to stand beside you.”

Seeing the boy’s cold expression, the woman sighed. “Che’er, times are different now. Didn’t your grandmother say before you left Luoyang that you shouldn’t discuss marriage for the next few years? Child, your future is what matters most right now.”

Hearing this, the boy lifted his head. He glanced at the elegant and well-dressed young woman before him, and said softly, “She’s not that young anymore…” His voice was so low that the woman didn’t catch it, nor did he want her to. In the next instant, he raised his head, expressionless, and walked into the house.

It was the season when all things flourished, and wild greens could be found everywhere in the market. Lu Ying bought two pounds of pork and five large pork bones, then filled her basket with wild herbs before heading home.

When she returned to the alley, the spot where the boy had stood was now empty. She glanced in that direction, smiled, and then went into her own home.

She had only just broken off her engagement with Zeng Lang, and her heart was still weighed down by an indescribable fatigue. It seemed that all men in the world were not to be trusted, and perhaps living alone wasn’t so bad after all. When she had nothing else to do, she even thought of using the money she had received from Ping Yin to buy herself a small house in Chengdu. Once her brother married, and if she could no longer endure the gossip and slander, she could live there under the guise of a widow.

Perhaps she would never marry for the rest of her life. Though it would be a solitary existence, it would be peaceful and free.

Lost in these idle thoughts, Lu Ying lit the stove, stacked a few hard logs inside, and filled a large pot with water before adding two of the pork bones. When she had finished these tasks, she cleaned out her basket, picked up the bamboo slips she had written, and set off for her brother’s school.

Today she arrived later than usual. Just as she reached the school gates, a burst of youthful laughter rang out—the students were being dismissed. Like several other women scanning the crowd, Lu Ying lifted her head to search among them. Soon, she spotted Lu Yun running toward her, his cheeks flushed, his handsome eyes alight with joy.

“Sister!”

“Why are you running so fast?” Lu Ying scolded playfully, taking out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Sister, the teacher praised me today.” Like Lu Ying, Lu Yun had particularly dark eyes that sparkled as he excitedly whispered, “Today the teacher was explaining the Doctrine of the Mean, and when he got to ‘What Heaven has decreed is called nature; to follow nature is called the Way; to cultivate the Way is called teaching,’ he asked me to interpret it. After hearing my explanation, he said I have a real talent for study, and that perhaps one day I might become a scholar.”

In these times, to become a scholar meant being recommended by elders for one’s outstanding literary talent, a path that paralleled the selection of filial and incorrupt individuals—another avenue by which the court recruited talent.

Hearing this, Lu Ying was genuinely delighted. “Really? That’s wonderful!” She thought of all the time she had spent lately poring over the Doctrine of the Mean, often discussing it with her younger brother. It was precisely these discussions that had instilled in him the habit of reflecting deeply on the classics from the very beginning. Lu Ying smiled broadly, thinking: From now on, I can discuss the sages with my brother even more.

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I still think the surname Yin suits my character better, so I’ve changed it back. My apologies—I thought the name I picked sounded quite classical, but I never realized what a terrible pun it made.