Chapter Thirty-One: Knots of the Heart (1)

The next day, Ye An truly did go to the Minister’s residence to propose marriage. Ye Yuandao was naturally delighted—he had waited so long, and now, at last, this day had come. As the match had already been agreed upon by both families, the proposal went smoothly. When Ye Qianran heard of it, she was astonished for quite some time, finding it somewhat unbelievable. Yet, since this was a good thing, and since Sister Meng was already close to her, she could not be happier to have her as a sister-in-law. She was sincerely glad for her brother: after all his waiting, the clouds had finally parted to reveal the moon. But when she thought of herself, a trace of melancholy surfaced—when would her own clouds part? At the same time, however, this event filled her with hope; she believed that one day, her own yearning too would find its answer.

In the blink of an eye, the Mid-Autumn Festival drew near, and the Ye residence was filled with jubilation. Red lanterns hung from every pavilion and corridor. When night fell and all the lanterns were lit, the estate was awash in a sea of crimson. After dinner, the whole family gathered by the lakeside pavilion to admire the moon. On the stone table were mooncakes, sunflower seeds, and an array of seasonal fruits—watermelon, grapes, apples. Everyone chatted idly of daily affairs. Ye Qianran regaled them with amusing anecdotes she had heard, while Juanbi and Lüluan occasionally chimed in, stirring bursts of laughter. Qianzhi nestled in Ye Qianran’s arms, her large eyes wide with earnest attention as she listened to the conversation. Ye Yuandao and Wen Qiumei reminisced most about Ye An and Qianzhi’s childhood. Ye Qianran listened closely, her heart warmed with affection. This, for her, marked the first Mid-Autumn Festival she truly counted as her own.

Later, Qianzhi gradually dozed off in her embrace. The clear, bright moon hung quietly in the sky, casting a gentle light. The night deepened, the moon grew rounder—so flawlessly round it seemed unmarred by any flaw. In the thick darkness, not a single star shone. Sometimes, her thoughts drifted to her grandparents far away in Jiangnan, and her expression would dim, but she would quickly compose herself. She could not let her parents see her mood, lest it bring them sorrow for many days.

After a while, seeing it was still early, Ye Qianran clung to Ye An and pestered him to take her out for a walk. This being her first festival in the capital, Ye Yuandao and Wen Qiumei agreed, though they cautioned them not to stay out too late. Delighted, Ye Qianran dragged Ye An out with her.

The world outside was alive with festivity. The street vendors’ stalls were adorned with lanterns that dazzled the eye. Brilliant fireworks burst across the sky, lantern light shimmering everywhere. Children played in the streets, carrying all manner of lanterns. Men lounged in groups at roadside stalls, drinking and admiring the moon. In the open squares, women danced, encircled by onlookers; beside them, ornate towers bedecked with red silk and blossoms rose splendidly. Scholars and gentlemen drank and recited poetry atop high terraces. Music filled the air, the sounds of strings and pipes never ceasing, and the streets bustled with throngs of people.

Yet Ye Qianran remained oblivious to the revelry, pulling Ye An along, pressing ever forward. When he asked where she wished to go, she did not answer; the bustle of the streets passed her by unheard. At last, as they turned onto Xuanwu Street, understanding dawned for Ye An—he finally realized what his sister intended.

They stood before a secluded mansion, its own walls and gate, a large locust tree planted out front. Lanterns hung at the entrance, casting their glow upon the bold characters of “Minister’s Residence.” The two stood at the threshold. Ye Qianran raised her gaze to those three words; Ye An fixed his eyes on her and chuckled, “Qianran, is this the fun place you spoke of? Somehow, I don’t find it entertaining at all.”

Moonlight poured like water.

She stared blankly at the vermilion-lacquered gates, unsure what compelled her, only that she wanted to see him. Though it had been but a few days since their last meeting, she vividly remembered how he had impatiently sent her away. Each time she begged Qingfeng to bring her here, she promised herself it would be the last—if his attitude remained unchanged, she would not return. But—just but—her mind could never restrain her heart.

Now, standing here, even before a tightly shut door, she felt at peace. Even if she could not see him, simply beholding the place where he dwelled brought her joy. Her wish was simple.

Seeing her unmoving, Ye An waved a hand before her face to bring her back to herself. She smiled, turned to leave, but he caught her. “Since we’re here, shouldn’t you at least gain something? Are you really so faint-hearted?”

She looked back at him. “What else can I do? Knock? What difference would it make—he doesn’t wish to see me anyway.” Her tone was firm, but tinged with grievance.

Ye An’s eyes flickered as he dragged her toward the door. Ye Qianran struggled, unwilling to go—how could her strength match a man’s? If he were to suddenly knock, how would Zhuge Liuyun see her? What would his family think? Surely, they would mock her for her shamelessness. No, she could not bear such an outcome. She wrenched herself free, eyes shining with unshed tears as she stared at him as if at a stranger.

Ye An bit his lip, a look of exasperation on his face. After a long silence, he sighed, “Fine, I won’t knock. Why get so upset over this?”

Ye Qianran pouted, her features shadowed by a hint of grievance. “You’re a man, so you needn’t worry about such things. But for a girl to knock so brazenly—what would people think of me?”

Ye An nodded. “I was indeed too rash. It’s just—I can’t bear to see you wrong yourself. Sometimes I resent Liuyun. What right does he have to torment my sister like this? But I know, too—matters of the heart are never ours to command.”

Just then, the door creaked open. They turned at the sound to see Zhuge Qingfeng’s tall figure elongated by the candlelight. He stood in the glow, a faint, ambiguous smile on his face. “Gossiping outside someone else’s front door—aren’t you two bold indeed?” he said, descending the stone steps with measured gait.

At the appearance of someone opening the door, Ye Qianran’s face lit up, but when she realized it was only him, her eyes dimmed. Ye An looked at him in surprise. “Why are you out here?”

Zhuge Qingfeng caught the fleeting darkness in Ye Qianran’s eyes before turning to answer Ye An, “So you two can come out, but I can’t?”

Ye An pursed his lips at the reply and asked, “Where’s Liuyun?”

A spark of brightness flickered in Ye Qianran’s eyes—the mere mention of that name was bewitching to her. She waited quietly for his answer.

“Liuyun?” Zhuge Qingfeng deliberately paused, as if pondering. Seeing his teasing manner, Ye Qianran could no longer contain herself and seized his sleeve, urgently asking, “Where is he? Say it quickly!”

It seemed Zhuge Qingfeng wanted to test her patience; he propped his chin in mock thought. “Hmm… let me think.”

A surge of irritation sparked in Ye Qianran’s gaze. She pushed him away, turning her head, a huff escaping her nose. Seeing this, Zhuge Qingfeng quickly turned her back toward him, relenting. “Alright, I won’t tease anymore. I’ll tell you.”

Ye Qianran ignored him. Ye An chuckled and nudged Zhuge Qingfeng. “You wouldn’t take the easy way, so you must take the hard—serves you right.”

Zhuge Qingfeng shot him a glare, pushing him aside, then looked intently at Ye Qianran. “He’s gone to Biyun Temple.”

Ye Qianran lifted her eyes, regarding him skeptically. “You’re not tricking me again, are you?” Zhuge Qingfeng shrugged, his expression sobering. “When have I ever lied to you?” At once, Ye Qianran fell silent, a look of chagrin on her face. Zhuge Qingfeng could only shake his head helplessly.

Ye An raised his chin. “Then let’s go.” Ye Qianran, almost instinctively, asked, “Go where?” Zhuge Qingfeng looked at her with disdain. “You really don’t know?”

Her cheeks flushed; the moment she spoke, she knew exactly where they were headed. Thinking he believed she was feigning ignorance, she suddenly felt embarrassed.

Fortunately, it was night, and her blush could not be seen. She asked softly, “Are we going to Biyun Temple?”

“Let’s go, then. No point standing here wasting time—if we’re late, Liuyun might already have left,” Ye An urged.

So the three of them set off for Biyun Temple. Along the way, Zhuge Qingfeng explained the reason for Zhuge Liuyun’s visit. When she heard it, Ye Qianran’s heart sank.

It turned out he went to Biyun Temple only to see the woman etched into his very soul—yes, her name was Lianxin. Every year, on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, she would visit Biyun Temple to offer incense. So every year, he would go to wait for her, watching silently as she entered, offered her prayers, and departed, never uttering a single word.

Qingfeng recounted how, one year, he had secretly followed him and discovered this secret. It made him angry—angry at Liuyun’s foolish cowardice, watching her pass before his eyes yet refusing to call out to her. Sometimes, if things are spoken aloud, they lose their sting. Yet he would not speak; Lianxin, though clearly seeing him, treated him as invisible and never paused for even a moment.

A faint bitterness welled up in Ye Qianran’s heart. Lianxin… what kind of woman must she be, to linger in his thoughts for five years, to wound him so deeply for five years? And yet, faced with herself, he remained utterly unmoved. What an extraordinary woman she must be.

Suddenly, a longing surged within Ye Qianran—a longing to meet Lianxin. Though they existed in different times, they both loved the same man. Lianxin was Liuyun’s knot, and now, hers as well.

The moonlight was cool as water, spilling softly upon this Buddhist sanctuary. Incense seekers streamed in and out of the temple. On either side of the path, simple long wooden tables displayed Buddhist wares—amulets, prayer beads, jade Guanyin figures. The stall owners hawked their wares tirelessly, while a white-bearded elder sat beneath a tree, reading fortunes. Occasionally, a monk in blue robes passed by, greeted with respectful nods. Ye Qianran saw Zhuge Liuyun reclining beneath a bodhi tree, quietly gazing ahead, the moonlight filtering through the leaves, dappling him with shadow. From such a distance, she could not make out his expression.

They did not approach, but simply watched from afar.

Ye Qianran fixed her gaze on the scene ahead; her breathing quickened, her heart grew restless. Her hands clenched tight within her sleeves. At last, she would see Lianxin—the person who had haunted her thoughts for so long.