Chapter Thirty-four: Knots of the Heart (4)

Ye Qianran still lay in bed day after day, taking her medicine and eating at prescribed times. Lülian's injury had nearly healed, and Juanbi and the others never left her side, caring for her constantly and inventing amusing stories to lift her spirits. Though Ye Qianran wasn't interested in their tales, she appreciated their efforts and responded with cooperative smiles.

One day, as Ye Qianran reclined against her pillow, watching the leaves sway outside the window and listening to Juanbi speak, something caught her attention. Juanbi mentioned a person—a man Ye Qianran knew all too well: Wei Zhuang.

Juanbi continued, recounting rumors about him. Ye Qianran listened intently; it was the first time she’d heard anything about Wei Zhuang from someone else. Juanbi said people claimed Wei Zhuang was mysterious and wealthy—no one knew exactly how rich he was. They said he was the secret owner of the Warm Pavilion, involved in a clandestine relationship with the capital's famed beauty, Gu Qingcheng. Others said Wei Zhuang delighted in seducing noblewomen, and anyone he set his sights on would inevitably end up disgraced. It was said he excelled in all manner of vice—drinking, gambling, consorting with brothels. He was rumored to favor dealings with bandits and pirates.

Listening, Ye Qianran felt a chill of fear. She hadn’t realized Wei Zhuang’s reputation was so tarnished, and she had even spent a night alone with him. She had gone so far as to ask him to visit her grandparents when she learned he would pass through Suzhou on his journey south. Her heart raced, as if struck by lightning. How strange—so this was what Wei Zhuang meant when he said that if she knew him, she wouldn’t want to associate with him. Why had she never thought to inquire about him before? She felt foolish; sometimes she even thought he was a good man.

And then she remembered what he’d said at Tianxiang Tower: “If you get entangled with me, you’ll find it hard to escape…” Was he trying to seduce her as he did other women? Did he see her as just another conquest? Her hand clenched tightly atop the brocade quilt. Wei Zhuang was truly insufferable.

Her pale face flushed with agitation; she coughed twice, prompting Juanbi to hurry over, gently patting her back and handing her a cup of warm tea.

The more Ye Qianran thought, the angrier she became. She couldn’t focus on the book in her hands, and after much turmoil, she finally drifted into sleep, her anger subsiding.

When she awoke, it was three quarters past the afternoon. Lülian helped her sit up. The window was propped open, and she could see the vast, clear sky outside. The sun hung at an angle in the west, its warmth tinged with a hint of chill. Flocks of migratory birds flew by, and the faint scent of osmanthus occasionally drifted in. Lülian poured her a cup of tea and spoke softly, “While you were resting, a woman named Lianxin came to visit, claiming to be an old acquaintance. Madam didn’t want to refuse, so she said you were asleep, but Lianxin insisted she could wait until you woke. Madam couldn’t say more and let her stay in the mansion. Do you know her?”

Ye Qianran’s hand paused as she held the teacup, then she brushed aside the tea foam. “She is indeed an old acquaintance. Please invite her in. We should catch up.”

Lülian glanced at her in surprise, but said nothing further, leaving to fetch Lianxin.

Now, only the two of them remained in the quiet room. Lianxin sat by the rosewood table beside the bed, carefully appraising the woman reclining there. It was the first time she’d seen Ye Qianran clearly. Her complexion was pale, her large eyes slightly upturned at the corners, long lashes casting shadows across her snowy face. Her ink-black hair spilled over the brocade quilt, her slender fingers as white as snow. Even in illness, she exuded a graceful charm—a rare beauty indeed.

Lianxin smiled. No wonder Liuyun was moved; anyone would be, faced with such a woman.

Ye Qianran gazed steadily at her. “Madam, what brings you here?”

A slight smile touched Lianxin’s lips. “I was injured because of you, Miss. I ought to visit.”

Ye Qianran continued to look at her, as if trying to see through her, and after a long pause finally spoke, “I didn’t save you for your sake. I simply didn’t want Liuyun to be sad.”

Lianxin started, then laughed in realization. “Miss, you are quite candid.”

Ye Qianran smiled as well, her gentle voice drifting softly, “If you had been hurt, Liuyun would have been even more pained and guilty, unable to forget. I cannot change your past with him, but now, I will not let his heart belong entirely to you.”

Lianxin was taken aback; she had not expected such honesty from the woman before her.

After a long silence, she sighed. “You truly are extraordinary, Miss. No wonder Liuyun—” She broke off, unable to continue.

Ye Qianran quietly waited for her to go on, but she said nothing more. Lianxin rose and slowly walked to the window, gazing at the vast blue sky. Her voice was distant, almost ethereal. “Five years ago, I was your age. When I fell in love with him, I thought of nothing else but becoming his wife, utterly convinced he would marry me. But I hadn’t expected the Minister to refuse so firmly. My family, disappointed, married me off to a local squire. I couldn’t bear for my love to end so abruptly, so I arranged to meet him in the peach grove three days later, planning to elope together. But he never came.”

Ye Qianran lowered her head, her slender fingers twisting her long hair in silence. She already knew this story.

Sure enough, Lianxin turned to look at her downcast eyes. “I imagine you know all this, but there’s one thing you don’t. On the day of our meeting, I didn’t go either.”

Ye Qianran looked up, astonished, disbelief in her eyes. Lianxin smiled and returned to the table. “Liuyun doesn’t know this either.”

Ye Qianran’s mouth felt dry; she couldn’t speak.

“That day, I sent my younger sister to the peach grove to tell him I couldn’t go with him. I couldn’t leave my parents and sister behind. I broke our promise and hoped he could forgive me. My sister waited until nightfall before returning, saying that Zhuge Liuyun never came.” Lianxin paused, then continued, “I always believed he would give up everything for me. So long as I knew he still loved me, even married to another, I could live quietly cherishing his love. I was so sure, but he never came. Rationally, I knew this was for the best—no one would be hurt—but emotionally, I couldn’t accept it. For the first two years, I hated him, blaming him for my misfortune. Liuyun thought the same, so we both suffered. Later, when I grew older, I understood more. What I asked of him was to abandon everything he’d relied on since childhood. Without those things, Zhuge Liuyun would no longer be himself. I wanted to tell him I hadn’t gone that day, but I feared he would despise me, forget me, or scorn me. I would rather he hated me than forgot me. I wanted to see him, but was afraid to face him. That feeling has lasted until now. If you hadn’t called out to me that night, I don’t know when I would have found the courage to confront him.”

After speaking, Lianxin poured herself a cup of cold tea and drank it. “These words have weighed on my heart for so long. To finally say them, I feel much lighter. Am I a bad woman?” She forced a smile as she asked.

Ye Qianran was momentarily lost, unsure how to respond. Though Lianxin was the knot between her and Zhuge Liuyun, she felt she ought to comfort her. Women’s feelings are always strange—rarely rational, never truly right or wrong. Everything stems from love.

Ye Qianran looked down at the butterfly embroidered on Lianxin’s collar and softly parted her lips. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have done any better. Matters of the heart are always tangled and impossible to unravel.”

Lianxin smiled with relief. “Even if it’s just a comforting phrase, I accept it. Take good care of yourself, Miss. I’ll take my leave now. When you are better, I’ll come visit again.” She rose to go, and Ye Qianran called for Lülian, who waited outside the door. At the threshold, Lianxin seemed to remember something. She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and turned to the half-reclining Ye Qianran, handing it to Lülian. “This was dropped during his fight with the man in black that night. Please help me return it to him.”

The slanting sunlight bathed her figure as she stood by the door, smiling at Ye Qianran, radiant as clouds at sunset. The maid waited outside, and Lülian saw them to the gate before returning.

The handkerchief still carried a faint, lingering fragrance. Ye Qianran unfolded it to find two delicate ivory dice. Her reclining body suddenly went rigid; the abrupt movement tugged at her wound, making her gasp in pain, yet she stared dazedly at her palm. She distinctly remembered throwing away the first die—how could this be? Looking closely, these were indeed the two she had crafted herself. To make them unique, she had only marked five sides; the last side was blank.

Her nails dug hard into her flesh; she closed her eyes and bit her lip. Was she too foolish, or had he hidden things too well?

The daylight gradually faded, and the candlelight flickered in the room. Ye Qianran could no longer remain seated. She wanted to see Liuyun. She wanted to ask him herself: did she exist in his heart? If so, why had he concealed it so painstakingly? If not, what was the meaning of these dice?

She asked Lülian to fetch her brother and begged him to take her out. Ye An frowned, looking at her pale, frail form, and shook his head. Ye Qianran grabbed his sleeve, gazing up at him with pleading eyes, glistening with unshed tears. Ye An steeled himself and said, “No, your body cannot endure it. I absolutely won’t take you out.”

With that, he left decisively.

Ye Qianran’s anxiety soared, and with no other recourse, she tumbled from the bed in distress, dragging the blanket with her, gasping in pain. Ye An turned back, seeing her pale, disheveled state, torn between anger and concern. He hurried over, picked her up, and Ye Qianran clung desperately to his collar, her voice full of pitiful entreaty. “Brother, please take me to see him, won’t you?”

Ye An’s heart softened, but he remained silent.

Her voice was low and hoarse, stubborn and resolute, as tears slipped from her eyes. “Brother, I miss him. If I don’t see him today, I’ll die.”

Ye An hesitated slightly, then placed her back on the bed. She clung tightly to his clothes, refusing to let him go, her gaze filled with helpless fear and earnest hope.

Looking at her weakened face, Ye An finally nodded in assent. For this sister of his, he could never refuse.