Midnight Breeze

At some point, Ye An had grown accustomed to sitting beneath the flowering tree, reclining on a bamboo chair, his long legs propped up on the stone table, idly swaying as he gazed at the sea of stars above. In the evenings, Ye Qianran would come searching for her brother, carrying her guzheng with Lülan in tow. As expected, she would always find Ye An lounging beneath the silk tree, cooling himself with a folding fan, a few wine cups set out on the stone table. The pale moonlight cast its glow over emerald leaves and crimson blossoms, the swaying greenery bringing a hint of coolness to the night.

Ye Qianran would weave her way through the flowers, smiling as she stood beside him, picking up the chess manual that covered his face. His eyes were closed, yet his dark lashes trembled incessantly, making her giggle. She scolded him gently, “Brother, if you are going to pretend, at least try to make it convincing. You’re always caught so easily—your little sister sees through you at a glance.” With that, she instructed Lülan to set the guzheng on the table, then lifted her skirts and sat gracefully beside it.

Ye An slowly opened his eyes, sat up from the bamboo chair, and took a quiet sip from his white porcelain cup. Tilting his head with a faint smile, he said, “Sister, why don’t you play a piece for your brother?” With that, he lay back down, covering his jade-like face once more with the chess manual.

Ye Qianran smiled and, once settled, began to tune her instrument, asking, “What would you like to hear, brother?”

“Phoenix Seeks the Phoenix,” came Ye An’s dreamy reply from beneath the book.

Moonlight poured onto the ground, ethereal and gentle, gliding over the strings of the guzheng. The clear notes were like icicles melting into spring water, trickling down mountain streams, flowing into barren soil, nourishing countless lives. The young, beautiful woman sat beneath the flowering silk tree, the wind brushing her hair, her face fair as cream, lashes casting delicate shadows as she lowered her gaze—so still and lovely. Standing atop the garden wall in a dark blue robe, Zhuge Qingfeng found himself unexpectedly entranced, his expression distant and dazed. The final note drifted from her fingertips before he could collect himself.

Ye An had noticed his presence long before but had deliberately kept silent. Seeing him remain motionless atop the wall, he couldn’t help but laugh. Rising, the chess manual sliding from his face, he called out, “Do you plan to stand there forever?”

Following her brother’s voice, Ye Qianran looked up to see a tall figure on the leafy wall. Even at such a distance, his features were indistinct, but she watched as he leapt down and strode forward from the shadows. The wind lifted his robes, and the pink silk blossoms fluttered around him like a flurry of crimson snow. As he approached, close enough for Ye Qianran to discern his face, she slowly stood, astonishment evident in her gaze as she stared at him, unable to look away.

Moonlight bathed his young, handsome features, not a hint of shadow marring his face. The faint smile at his lips radiated a gentle warmth. He turned slightly to look at her, a trace of surprise flickering in his dark eyes as he asked, “Have we met before, miss?”

A soft dimple appeared at the corner of Ye Qianran’s lips. There are some people in this vast world you meet for the first time, yet it feels as if you have known them forever; while others, despite a lifetime of acquaintance, remain strangers. They were the former.

Ye An replied with a teasing air, “Perhaps we met in a dream, hmm?” He arched a brow in playful inquiry.

Without hesitation, Zhuge Qingfeng tapped Ye An with his folding fan, his smile as mild as spring rain, his voice crisp, “After half a year apart, Brother Ye, your tongue has grown even sharper.”

Ye An burst into hearty laughter—the first since returning from the warm chambers. Ye Qianran immediately sensed there was something extraordinary about the bond between this man and her brother; perhaps he was the elusive Zhuge Qingfeng, the very one her brother often described as a dragon seen only in glimpses.

Seeing her silent and staring, Zhuge Qingfeng leaned forward to ask, “And who might this be?” Though the question was addressed to Ye An, his eyes remained fixed on Ye Qianran.

“Haven’t you met her before? Take a guess,” Ye An replied from his bamboo chair, watching with amusement.

“I suppose…” Zhuge Qingfeng twirled his fan, scrutinizing her intently.

Before he could venture a guess, Ye Qianran laughed. “You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are.”

“Oh?” Zhuge Qingfeng raised a brow, smiling as he asked, “Who am I, then?”

“You’re Liuyun’s younger brother, Qingfeng,” Ye Qianran answered with certainty. Indeed, anyone who had seen the two of them would never doubt they were brothers—the resemblance was striking.

“Ah,” he drew out the syllable, speaking slowly, “So I am only Liuyun’s younger brother, and then Qingfeng.”

“This…” Ye Qianran found herself at a loss for words, having spoken without thinking, not expecting him to care so much about the order.

Embarrassed, she fell silent, then raised her head again, her bright eyes sparkling as she said, “But you still haven’t guessed who I am.”

“Well…” Zhuge Qingfeng feigned distress, slowly sitting on a stone stool and sizing her up as if genuinely unable to guess. In truth, he already knew—Ye An had spoken of her before.

Noticing his troubled expression, Ye Qianran’s eyes gleamed with a touch of pride, but before it could blossom, her composure returned, for Zhuge Qingfeng spoke, guessing with uncanny accuracy.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Ye An’s sister from Jiangnan, Qianran?” he asked, peering at her.

Ye Qianran was left speechless.

Ye An laughed aloud. “Sister, your Brother Qingfeng is no ordinary man; conversing with him always leaves one at a loss. With time, you’ll see.”

Ye Qianran shot Ye An a glance, then sat on the stone stool opposite Zhuge Qingfeng, curiosity lighting her features. “But why did you climb over the wall instead of coming through the main gate?”

“Oh, that…” Zhuge Qingfeng scratched his neck with his fan, “Perhaps I’ve just gotten used to it.”

“What?” Ye Qianran stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re in the habit of climbing over people’s walls?”

“Ah, sister, you guessed right. Qingfeng’s favorite pastime is exactly that. Whenever he returns from a trip, he tells us how many walls he’s scaled.”

“Really?” Ye Qianran’s disbelief was plain on her face. Though she had seen many oddities traveling with her grandfather as a child, this was the first time she’d heard of such a hobby.

Zhuge Qingfeng shot a reproachful look at Ye An, who was still lounging in his bamboo chair, then turned back to explain, “Don’t listen to your brother’s nonsense. It’s just that sometimes there’s no better way. It was so late, I didn’t want to disturb too many people, so I climbed over the wall.”

“I heard from my brother that you left home at a young age to follow a Taoist priest. Is it true?” Ye Qianran blinked her large eyes at him.

Zhuge Qingfeng pressed a hand to his forehead, feigning misery, “What on earth has your brother told you? I feel as though my whole image is ruined.”

“My brother said that a Taoist saw potential in you when you were ten and took you as his disciple. You’ve traveled with your master ever since, rarely returning home. He also said you’ve long seen through the mundane world, are preparing to inherit your master’s mantle, and aim to promote the Tao, becoming the next great Daoist master.”

Zhuge Qingfeng looked at Ye An, both amused and exasperated, then turned to see Ye Qianran’s eager, curious face. He explained, “Well… I did travel with my master, that part is true. But as for seeing through the world’s red dust—my cultivation is far from sufficient. Besides, my greatest wish isn’t to inherit my master’s teachings, but to find a lovely bride and wander the world with her. As for spreading the Dao—such a daunting task is best left to the next generation.”

“That’s it? How simple.” Ye Qianran sounded disappointed, but suddenly remembered something else. “My brother also said you and your master often climbed over people’s walls when you traveled. What’s that about?”

“Uh…” Zhuge Qingfeng rubbed his brow, frowning as he searched for an explanation that wouldn’t be misunderstood. “Well… I think that’s best discussed among men. Girls needn’t know.”

“Qingfeng, why pretend? If you’ve done it, there’s no point hiding it from others,” Ye An said impatiently, seeing through his act.

“Enough,” Zhuge Qingfeng shot him a glare.

He then noticed Ye Qianran’s expression of disdain and felt a shadow cross his mind. He gently explained, “It’s not what you think. It was simply that, during our travels, my master and I often found ourselves bored. We’d climb over people’s walls and listen to their family gossip…”

“What, you spied on people?” Ye Qianran exclaimed, as if she’d uncovered a major scandal.

“Don’t put it so harshly. We were immersing ourselves in real life, learning about the hardships of the common folk…”

“So, what interesting things did you learn? Tell me a story.”

“Well, there was this one time, in the middle of the night…”

…

The voices of the three mingled with the drifting silk blossoms, floating further and further into the summer night. Overhead, the moonlight spilled its gentle radiance onto their young, vibrant forms, while the occasional song of orioles and swallows drew out the night, making it seem both longer and more beautiful.

When Zhuge Qingfeng left, he insisted on climbing over the wall again, and only then did Ye Qianran believe it truly was a habit. But suddenly, he turned back and walked toward her, his gaze fixed intently on the jade pendant at her waist. After a long moment, he looked up and asked, “Did Liuyun give you that jade?”

Ye Qianran glanced down, her slender fingers brushing the snow-white nephrite. Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, her eyes softening with a fleeting tenderness before she looked up again, her gaze serene. “He left it at our residence.”

Zhuge Qingfeng smiled, muttering to himself, “I thought as much…” He reached out his hand. “Let me return it for him.”

Ye Qianran instinctively drew back, her meaning clear.

Ye An, still reclining in his bamboo chair, smiled silently.

Zhuge Qingfeng bowed his head in thought, then after a while looked up, a smile at his lips. “I understand.” With a leap, he vaulted onto the wall, then over it, vanishing like a great butterfly behind the towering barrier.

Ye Qianran stood stunned, hardly able to believe it. She turned back to the stone stool and murmured, “He truly comes and goes like the wind… Yet their personalities are so very different.”

Ye An laughed aloud from his bamboo chair. “You’ve only met him once. When you spend more time together, you’ll see—their temperaments are worlds apart.”

Ye Qianran gazed at the spot where he’d disappeared. Moonlight filtered through the trees, and the windbells atop the wall swayed in the night breeze, their faint chimes audible only to her. “Is that so?” Her words drifted into the vast darkness, leaving no trace behind.