Her Love

When the gentle breeze pushed Ye Qianran to stand before Zhuge Liuyun’s window, the courage and recklessness she had mustered in the courtyard suddenly dissolved into fear. The moment she caught sight of his shadow cast upon the window, all her resolve evaporated. She began to question whether this was truly bravery or merely blind impulse. She wondered what he would think of her—a woman coming to a man’s house in the dead of night. Would he look down on her, think her lacking in propriety, or... Ye Qianran dared not let her thoughts wander further. She turned, intent on fleeing, but Qingfeng gave her no chance. He gripped her hand firmly and knocked on Zhuge Liuyun’s door.

Ye Qianran hid behind Qingfeng, her heart pounding as if it might leap from her chest.

With a soft creak, the door opened. Zhuge Liuyun stood quietly at the threshold. Every muscle in Ye Qianran’s body tensed, her very breath stilled. Sensing her anxiety, Qingfeng gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and gently pulled her forward. The moment her gaze met Zhuge Liuyun’s, it was as if his eyes held a quiet magic—her tumultuous thoughts instantly sank, leaving her heart tranquil. She did not know how to describe that moment—was it joy, sweetness, sorrow? Perhaps all and none. But suddenly, she understood the feeling her grandmother once spoke of in that beautiful love story.

The tale was of Ananda, a disciple of Buddha. Before taking his vows, Ananda encountered a maiden on the road and was smitten, unable to let go. The Buddha asked, “How much do you love that maiden?” Ananda replied, “I would become a stone bridge, enduring five hundred years of wind, five hundred years of sun, and five hundred years of rain—just so she might one day cross over me.” As a child, Ye Qianran had only thought the story lovely, never comprehending what kind of love could inspire such devotion. Now, standing before him, gazing at his handsome brow, the faint, elusive smile at his lips, she felt all her recent suffering, longing, and relentless thoughts swirl together, transmuted into a gentle, abiding affection.

When Zhuge Liuyun saw her, his brows twitched ever so slightly before relaxing into serenity. He tilted his head, glancing at Zhuge Qingfeng, who offered a mysterious smile, nudged her forward to Zhuge Liuyun without a word, and then quietly withdrew.

The courtyard was left with just the two of them: one standing inside the house, the other at the door. The moon hung high, stars scattered sparsely, a thin mist veiling the world, the occasional call of a bird painting the night in deeper silence.

A faint, deliberate smile touched Zhuge Liuyun’s lips. He seemed uncertain how to face this unexpected visitor, so he simply gazed at her. In her eyes, starlight flickered—so bright it might outshine a meteor. After a long while, he quietly asked, “Miss Ye, what brings you here tonight?”

Had it been a few days earlier, such a polite, distant question would have wounded her. But now, she no longer cared. She felt braver than ever, having set aside her reserve and shyness. There was nothing left to fear.

She did not answer him; her eyes lingered on his elegant features. After a long silence, she finally asked, “Do you truly not know why I’ve come?”

Zhuge Liuyun pressed his lips together and sighed. “Miss Ye, why do you do this to yourself?”

Ye Qianran ignored his question, tilting her head, her eyes shining with innocent light. “Aren’t you going to invite me in to sit for a while?”

Zhuge Liuyun was at a loss for words. After a long pause, he closed the door behind him and came out to stand beside her beneath the eaves. The moonlight pooled around them, illuminating his sharp features and her radiant beauty. His eyes were as dark and cool as the night, his lips unsmiling, his voice drifting softly through the mist: “Miss Ye, your reputation should not be compromised on my account. I must beg your forgiveness.”

Ye Qianran bit her lip, her voice gentle yet resolute. “You must know that by coming here tonight, I’ve already put such concerns aside.”

“Miss Ye, why persist in this? By the lakeside at Shichahai, I thought I had made myself clear.” His words were resolute, but spoken with such softness, they sounded almost like a sigh.

Ye Qianran’s eyes dimmed, her gaze dropping to the shadows the moon stretched behind them—so well-matched, those two silhouettes. After a long silence, she shook her head in a daze and murmured, “I know all that you’ve said, but feelings are not something I can give or take away at will.”

A warm summer breeze stirred, lifting the hem of her dress, the folds of his robe, the dark silk strands at her temple, brushing his cheek with a teasing touch. The moonlit fragrance was cool and intoxicating. He reached out to catch that wisp of scented hair, lost in a moment’s trance, but swiftly withdrew his hand. Yet Ye Qianran gave him no chance to escape. Her slender, white fingers caught his, clutching the lock of hair between them. She looked up at him with her clear, burning eyes, her voice soft as a lover’s whisper, calling his name.

He frowned slightly, a strange, bittersweet heat rising in his chest. Staring at her, he felt something restless stirring inside him. Abruptly, he drew his hand away, as if scalded, and averted his gaze, fixing it instead on the double-petaled hibiscus ahead. The flowers resembled mallows, tinged with pale purple and red, their delicate petals glimmering silver in the moonlight. After a while, his fingers found the jade pendant at his waist. Its cool touch seeped into his heart. He gripped it tightly, and his eyes, dark and fathomless as the night, met hers. The chill in his gaze made Ye Qianran’s heart sink. He quietly took several steps back, putting a distance between them so great that she could no longer discern his expression. His voice, emotionless, floated through the night: “Liuyun’s heart was given wholly to the girl he met at seventeen. Never again in this life will anything compare. Miss Ye, you are wise enough to know that some things cannot be forced. I hope you will soon find your true happiness. On the day of your wedding, I shall certainly come to drink a toast.”

Her teeth bit hard into her lip. Eyes shut tight, her hand clenched in her sleeve. Qingfeng had said it would be either a beginning or an end—was this the result of her insistence tonight?

Zhuge Liuyun did not look at her again, but turned and went inside. After a moment, he opened his palm—a delicate dice Ye Qianran had given him reflected the cold moonlight, its chill stabbing his eyes. All those years of longing and hope, it seemed, were utterly worthless to him.

She had known the outcome would be thus, yet came anyway, unable to help herself. Now, hearing his cold words, she found she was far less calm than she had imagined.

She forced herself to reach for the dice in his hand, as if it took all her strength, her hand trembling uncontrollably. Scalding tears rolled down her cheeks, falling on the cold stone steps below and blooming into dark circles, unnoticed. The night breeze was gentle, yet she felt chilled to the bone. Biting her lip, she mustered her last ounce of strength and flung the dice into the shadowy grass, not a sound betraying its fall. She wiped her tears away, head held high with pride. Yes, once she had been the moon adored by all, a beauty so proud she verged on arrogance. Only with him had she ever been so humble. Yet such humility could never win his love.

Zhuge Liuyun watched her in silence. He had always thought her a spoiled child, used to getting her way, and that was why she pursued him so persistently. He had never realized how genuine her feelings were. Now, seeing her lift her chin with stubborn pride, he thought: this was the true Ye Qianran.

He did not know why a trace of bitterness rose in his heart. This time, he had truly pushed her away.

Ye Qianran managed a faint smile, her eyes darker than the night itself. “I knew all along you did not want to love me, but I still clung to a shred of hope. It took so much courage to come to you step by step, but you remain unmoved. As you said, some things cannot be forced. I will not press you, just as I hope you won’t force yourself.”

With that, she turned and descended the stone steps, leaving him only a proud, unyielding figure. Zhuge Qingfeng emerged quietly from the shadows; the moonlight, filtered through swaying parasol trees, dappled the ground in lonely patterns. He watched her and Qingfeng walk away, unable to take a single step after them.

The street had long since lost its daytime bustle. The cool, empty road was crossed now and then by a late passerby. Some inns by the roadside still shone with scattered lights, and a distant dog barked once or twice. High above, white clouds slowly veiled the moon, plunging the street into deeper darkness. Ye Qianran walked on in silence, and Zhuge Qingfeng matched her pace, wordless. After a long while, she asked in a voice thick with tears, “Does loving someone always hurt this much?”

Zhuge Qingfeng did not answer at once, only narrowing his eyes before quietly replying, “What is love in this world? It makes us pledge life and death.”

Ye Qianran stopped abruptly, her brows drawn tight, hot tears streaming down her face. All her pent-up pain and grievance found its escape at last; she could no longer hold them back. She buried her face in Qingfeng’s chest, weeping uncontrollably. He held her gently, trying to offer comfort, his hand softly patting her back. Her tears soaked his robe, and a quiet sigh slipped from his lips.

After a long while, she slowly pulled away, raising her head at last. Her jade-green sleeves wiped the tears from her face; the weakness and helplessness of a moment ago had utterly vanished, as if her sobs had been nothing but a fleeting illusion. She was once more the girl with a hint of pride in her bearing.

She gave him a broad, radiant smile. Looking at her beautiful face, Zhuge Qingfeng thought to himself: here was another stubborn, unyielding girl.