Chapter 5

The protective charm I had earned through seven days on my knees was never delivered.

Mother and I settled into an even more uneasy stalemate.

She did not ask, perhaps because she resented that I had obtained only one. I offered no explanation, because I was so full of hurt that anything I said would have come out hateful.

On the Dragon Boat Festival, Li Shuyun happened to be feeling well and suggested that we watch the boat races.

At the teahouse, we unexpectedly encountered Pei Mingjue on the viewing platform upstairs.

He wore a casual vermilion robe edged with cloud patterns in dark gold thread. A jade belt circled his waist, accentuating his tall, slender frame.

I stepped forward to greet him and introduced my family one by one. Pei Mingjue’s manner remained properly courteous, though somewhat distant.

When it was Li Shuyun’s turn, she—usually aloof and sparing with words—pinched her handkerchief, her cheeks flushing pink. “Greetings, my lord.”

I raised a brow. Even Mother looked surprised. Li Shuyun then asked with bashful hesitation, “Will you take part in the willow shooting today, my lord?”

Every Dragon Boat Festival, besides watching the boat races, the young nobles loved to shoot willow branches. They would gallop past, sever a branch with an arrow, and victory went to whoever caught it before it fell.

Pei Mingjue did not answer. Instead, he turned toward me. “What about you? Are you going?”

Everyone in the room was startled. I thought for a moment. “Shall we compete?”

“Gladly. I recently acquired a horse as black as ink.” Pei Mingjue smiled. “If you win, the fine steed is yours.”

My eyes lit up. All thought of propriety vanished as I turned and followed Pei Mingjue downstairs.

In the end, I did not win the black horse. Pei Mingjue’s riding and archery far surpassed mine. From beginning to end, he gave it his all and never once went easy on me.

Though defeated, I felt neither disappointed nor humiliated. I was simply exhilarated by the contest.

By the time we returned to the teahouse, the boat race had ended. When Li Shuyun saw me, she asked, “You look so pleased. Did you win the horse?”

“It must be wonderful to know how to ride.” Her tone was barbed. “Even the heir invited you to shoot willows.”

“It is,” I said, pouring myself tea. “I suppose that is what happens when a person can run and jump.”

“Xiaoman!” Mother, who had been silent until then, slapped the table. “Is that any way to speak to your elder sister?”

The irony struck me at once. I was about to reply when someone called “Xiaoman!” from below the teahouse.

I turned. A wreath woven from willow branches landed lightly on my head. Seated high on his horse, Pei Mingjue looked up and smiled at me.

He said nothing. The wide sleeves of his red robe hung loose as he drew the reins tight, wheeled his horse, and galloped away.

That night, after we returned home, Li Shuyun fell ill again.

The physician carried his medicine chest into Tingfang Courtyard once more. I ignored the commotion. The next day, I accepted Pei Mingjue’s invitation and left the estate for an outing.

When I came home, the servants were grim and silent. Taochun told me the eldest young mistress had coughed blood that day.

“It has never been this severe. The physician says the eldest young mistress is suffering from pent-up distress.”

Taochun bristled. “What distress could she possibly have? Is there anyone in this estate who does not dote on her?”

I said nothing. Frail from birth, Li Shuyun had grown up confined to her chambers and spoiled by the entire household. She had become narrow-minded, intolerant, and prone to extremes.

She could not bear to see me happy, nor could she endure even a sliver of the family’s attention falling on me.

More importantly, I remembered the way she had looked at Pei Mingjue that day and wondered when the explosion would come.

Two days later, the Grand Princess sent an invitation to the marquis’s estate, asking me alone to go boating with her during the Qixi Festival.

Mother read the invitation twice. It plainly named only “Second Miss Li,” not “the ladies of the marquis’s household.”

When Li Shuyun heard, she smashed everything in her room and wept until she fainted. The physician was summoned to Tingfang Courtyard yet again.

My brother, who rarely visited me, came to my courtyard. After hesitating for a long while, he said, “Mother wants you to invite the Grand Princess in your own name on the day of Qixi.”

I laughed aloud. “That way, Li Shuyun will have a proper excuse to meet the heir. Is that it?”

My brother’s expression stiffened. He seemed not to have expected such bluntness.

He sighed. “Xiaoman, Yun’er has never asked for anything.”

Of course she never had to ask. All she had to do was fall ill or shed a few tears, and the entire household would place whatever she wanted into her hands.

“She was frail from childhood and suffered greatly. She did not return to the marquis’s estate until she was ten.”

“Yun’er has taken a liking to the heir. She will not say it, but her fever has returned again and again these past few days. Mother understood long ago.”

“Xiaoman, I know the heir indulges you.” My brother would not meet my eyes. “Hold yourself back a little…and let her have this one last thing.”

“Do I have any right to say no?” I asked. “Mother has already sent the invitation. This is nothing more than a notice.”

“She knows perfectly well how important marriage is to a woman in this world. That is why she did not dare face me and sent you instead.”

“Tell her that some things cannot be understood until people meet.”

“The heir may not take a liking to me,” I said, “but with the Grand Princess’s breadth of mind, she will never approve of Li Shuyun.”