Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Beneath a golden osmanthus tree, Yu Hebai was raising his cup and drinking with that woman.

She had delicate, lovely features and a graceful, slender figure.

Every frown, every smile held an endless, gentle charm.

Looking at her, I was suddenly reminded of the lines Yu Hebai had once recited.

The moon rises bright and fair; the beauty shines with grace.

So lithe, so lovely; she leaves the heart in quiet ache.

If I had not once seen someone even more extraordinary, I might have worshiped her as a Goddess then and there.

When Yu Hebai saw me approach, the smile at the corner of his mouth faltered.

He spoke softly, as though afraid of disturbing the woman. “She is no one of importance.”

“Fairy Maiden, please wait a moment. I will send her away and return.”

Even though I had already heard from Madam Yu that he had become infatuated with the Goddess, utterly entranced by her, those words-“no one of importance”-still made my chest twist in pain.

What others told you could never compare to seeing it with your own eyes.

One month ago, I had still been the fiancée he thought of day and night.

At my coming-of-age ceremony, Madam Yu had placed a crescent-shaped gold hairpin in my hair. The warmth in her pleased gaze made my cheeks burn.

She had leaned close and whispered to me, “Little Wangyue, in a few days, I will bring Hebai to your door to propose marriage.”

“From now on, will you be my daughter-in-law?”

Smiling, she looked at me, then at Yu Hebai among the guests.

The young man carried himself with an otherworldly poise. Yet for all his maturity and composure, his mother’s blunt gaze still made his face flush red.

But I waited and waited. I chose and chose again the fabric and patterns for my embroidered red bridal veil.

Yet the pair of betrothal geese never came.

At the end of the street, the gates of the Yu family were shut tight, as though locking away some unspeakable secret.

Each time I passed by, my heart felt hollow and afraid.

Afraid that he was in some difficulty and refused to tell me.

Afraid that something had happened to him, and he did not want to drag me down with him.

In my dreams, again and again, scenes from storybooks played out-villains forcing their way into his home. Until the day I nearly could no longer stop myself from climbing over the wall and breaking in.

That night, Madam Yu, who had not shown herself for so long, came to me under cover of darkness. Scalding tears fell onto the back of my hand.

She spoke of the Goddess descending to earth. She said he and I were fated to meet, but not fated to be together.

I refused to believe it, so I came in person to confirm the truth.

Only then did I learn that whether the Goddess had truly descended to earth was uncertain-but my lover’s change of heart was absolutely real.

The lover who had changed his heart stepped toward me, intending to lead me outside the courtyard to speak.

I knew his heart had changed, but I did not think myself someone unworthy of stepping through the front hall.

My feet stayed rooted to the spot. In a trembling voice, I asked him, “What do you mean, no one of importance?”

Yu Hebai had never liked me acting too lively or unrestrained.

He was the youngest provincial graduate in the city, and now he had passed the metropolitan examination as well.

His future wife had to be the very picture of serenity, refinement, and beauty-like a cascade of golden osmanthus blossoms.

Just like that woman sitting beneath the osmanthus tree at this very moment, perfectly composed and at ease.

I did not want to lose face in front of them.

So I reined in my temper, held back my tears, and questioned him softly.

But feigned propriety was like a paper lantern pasted together with thin sheets.

When Yu Hebai saw that he could not make me move, he frowned.

The light breeze billowed his sleeves, making him look as transcendent and aloof as ever.

He looked the way he had for years-the way that always made my face flush and my heart race at the mere sight of him.

But the words he spoke, along with the autumn wind, struck my face coldly.

“It was merely a joke between our elders. Do not take it seriously,” he said coolly. “An engagement can be made, and it can also be annulled. My mother and I have already discussed it. We will come another day to break off the engagement.”

He was so cold and self-possessed, as if nearly eight years of knowing each other had been nothing more than a scene performed from a storybook.

Once the curtain fell, no one should have taken it seriously.

But I could not do that.

My heart hurt so much.

I wanted him to hurt as much as I did!

So I showed him the money-grubbing face he hated most and demanded compensation from him in a loud voice.

“You can break off the engagement, but can you pay back everything you owe us?”

“Do not forget whose family paid to support you until you passed the metropolitan examination, and who ran herself ragged so your paintings could catch the eye of noble patrons!”

“All these years-the repairs to your house, the brushes and ink, your schooling, and the travel expenses for your examinations. You are a dignified metropolitan graduate now. Surely you are not going to repudiate your debts, are you?”