Jiugao City seemed to spend two or three hundred days of the year in the rain, and of all those days, the early summer rains were the most unbearable.
The lingering, fickle dampness of spring had yet to depart, while the humid, sweltering heat of summer had already arrived. The sky changed its face by the hour; the rain waxed and waned, making it impossible to dress correctly—too much was stifling, too little was chilling. After walking just a few paces outdoors, the soles of one's shoes would be soaked through, leaving one feeling miserable for the rest of the day.
Su Muhe huddled under the narrow eaves of the tea shop’s back door, her heart feeling as heavy and stifled as the weather.
When she had left home this morning, Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, had been acting suspiciously, trailing her carriage for a long time. She’d had no choice but to go to the fabric shop on Songluo Street first, feigning an errand to prepare a birthday gift for her grandmother. She left her maid, Shangqu, and the carriage waiting at the front entrance while she found an opportunity to slip away through the back alley.
As the daughter of a medicinal merchant’s concubine, her outings had never been this troublesome before.
She knew her mother didn’t want her leaving the house, not because she had reached the age of hair-pinning and needed to learn propriety, nor because of concerns for her health. It was simply to prevent her from privately meeting the eldest son of the Qiu family.
The "discarded son" who had once been forced from his home and lived in exile had suddenly ascended to become the most sought-after new official in Jiugao. The entire Su family was truly torn between joy and resentment. They rejoiced that the most powerful and promising marriage alliance in the city had fallen to their house, yet they resented that it had been granted to the most useless, concubine-born daughter.
Before this affair, Su Muhe hadn't even been a thorn in the Su family's side; she was merely a useless existence. The people in the manor often forgot she even existed, and those outside had never even heard the name of the Su family’s second miss.
But everything had changed since Qiu Ling returned from the Qingzhong Mountain Academy. Her mother plotted in the shadows, her brother racked his brains to curry favor with the military, and even her elder sister had begun to treat her with open hostility. Yet Su Muhe had not even seen the face of the young master of the Qiu family. She did not know what was so remarkable about him that he could cause her entire family to treat her with such cold glares and keep her confined like a prisoner.
Whenever she thought of this in the deep of night, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
She was not a precious Ganoderma mushroom grown in the deep mountains, nurtured by the essence of heaven and earth—something to be enshrined as a treasure if plucked, or to remain serene if left undiscovered. She was merely a stalk of barnyard grass hidden in a rice field. No matter how cautious she was or how hard she tried to live, she could never produce heavy ears of grain. She would either fail to escape the harvest or end up as fodder for livestock.
Barnyard grass was lowly, but it still possessed the instinct to survive. It always had to think of how to root deeper, how to lift its head to steal a ray of sunlight, and how to sprout new leaves from a mangled, half-eaten body just to endure on this crowded patch of earth.
Yet, humans are not plants; she possessed a body of flesh and blood. At times, she grew weary of this life, weary of herself for struggling so desperately in the mire.
Did she not deserve other choices? Why was it always others who chose her, and if they did not, she was simply cast aside?
Su Muhe blinked, looking toward the intersection and the gates of the prefectural office behind the stone archway for the umpteenth time.
A few boatmen and porters, having just finished a delivery, walked into the tea shop laughing and cursing. Su Muhe hastily raised her sleeve to shield her face and shrank to the side.
The prefectural office was built upon the river embankment. Not far down the front street was Lotus Wharf, the largest of the major docks in Jiugao. The tea shops and eateries in the nearby alleys were all established for boatmen and traveling merchants. Those entering and exiting were all rough men in a hurry; a delicately dressed young lady standing among them would attract prying eyes no matter how much she tried to stay low-profile.
Su Muhe felt apprehensive, her handkerchief damp with sweat in her palm.
There was still no movement at the gates of the prefectural office. Qiu Ling’s great dapple-gray horse stood silently in the rain, occasionally flicking its tail with leisure, appearing far more composed and tranquil than she was.
The rain showed no sign of stopping. Her maid had still not arrived with the carriage to find her, and the young commander had yet to emerge from the office gates.
Perhaps she shouldn't have risked coming out today.
For over ten years, she had lived her days with caution, politely and obediently rooted in her small plot of land, quietly waiting for time to pass. Today was the first step she had tried to take outside that world, yet nothing was going as smoothly as she had imagined.
Shangqu had not appeared; she didn't know if the girl had been caught by her mother’s people. The person she intended to "accidentally encounter" was still nowhere to be seen. She didn't know how much longer she would have to wait like this.
Su Muhe’s heart sank bit by bit. She began to involuntarily wonder what excuse she would give when her family eventually found her. After this futile struggle, how long would it be before she was allowed to step out of the manor gates again?
Forget it. If he doesn't come out, he doesn't come out. To her, the world outside wasn't much better anyway.
The rainwater accumulating by the roadside seemed to rise a bit higher. Su Muhe carefully stepped back. The hem of her skirt was soaked, clinging to her leggings. Despite her best efforts to stand with dignity, she looked rather bedraggled.
With her head down, she didn't notice a cargo-laden carriage rushing past from the direction of the wharf. The driver brought with him the stench of horse manure. She only had time to instinctively cover her nose and mouth before a spray of muddy water flew toward her.
In her panic, she instinctively tried to retreat, forgetting she had already taken a step back. The wooden threshold of the tea shop caught the back of her embroidered shoe. Her foot snagged, her body tilted, and just as she was about to fall, a pair of arms reached out from behind to catch her gently. Then, a worn oil-paper umbrella was deftly positioned in front of her.
Su Muhe stared blankly ahead, watching the splashed mud slide down the surface of the umbrella and drip onto the ground, forming dark blossoms in the dirt.
A scent of hearth-fire and dampness drifted past her nose. It was the smell of firewood mixed with rain; if she focused, there seemed to be hints of mint and iron as well.
She had rarely smelled such a complex and contradictory scent.
Once she had regained her footing, Su Muhe quickly stepped away and turned around. Simultaneously, the arm behind her withdrew.
"Careful now."
The voice was low and slightly raspy, sounding reliable and deep.
Yet the face was far too young, carrying a hint of youthful spirit. His features were refined, but his gaze was bold.
The youth, dressed in plain cloth, closed the umbrella. He shook his head to flick the droplets from his dark hair while casting a glance at her.
"This is a place where people come and go. If you're waiting for someone, Miss, you might want to find another spot."
Su Muhe said nothing. After catching her breath, she couldn't help but study the person before her.
He wore a coarse cloth garment that had faded to a pale hue. His hair was tied back casually, with a few wet strands clinging to his fair forehead. His back was exceptionally straight; even as he looked down to fiddle with his umbrella, the lines of his body remained fluid and resilient. He seemed like a bow pulled taut.
She found it difficult to look away. Having just left the fabric shop on Songluo Street, she had seen countless exquisite silks and gold-threaded robes, yet now her gaze was arrested by a suit of coarse cloth.
He seemed to sense her stare and looked back at her without blinking.
"What is it?"
There was a brilliance in his light brown eyes, a kind of light she had never seen in her world.
Su Muhe felt as if she had been stung from a distance by an invisible scorpion; she hastily lowered her head.
"The rain has turned heavy. I didn't bring an umbrella, so I could only take shelter here for a moment."
He looked up at the sky, his jawline tracing a handsome arc before her.
"You didn't bring an umbrella? I'm afraid it’s going to rain for a while longer."
Indeed. When she left this morning, how could she have known she would end up in such a state?
Because it was so dull, her life had never even known the rain. Thus, she was at a loss; thus, she could only stand here in such a sorry state. If she hadn't met him just now, her dress would likely have been ruined, and she would surely have been mocked by the inner court when she returned to the manor.
"I don't go out often..."
Her voice was very low. Before she could finish, the old oil-paper umbrella returned to her field of vision.
She looked up in a daze. His gaze was perfectly candid, as natural as a casual favor between close friends.
"If you don't mind it, Miss, please take this umbrella."
His words were polite, but the action of handing over the umbrella was somewhat brook-no-denial. By the time she reacted, the umbrella was already in her hands.
Why? Why give her an umbrella? Was it because he saw her finely crafted, expensive gown and wanted to curry favor? Or did he see her alone and decide to flirt on a whim?
She had always disliked thick-skinned libertines, yet at this moment, she couldn't bring herself to feel any loathing. How could someone be born with the ability to make a gesture of kindness feel so appropriate and natural? Or perhaps there was a trace of genuine emotion in it; otherwise, why would her heart be fluttering so...
Su Muhe shivered, instinctively reminding herself to maintain boundaries.
She held the umbrella, unsure whether to keep it or return it.
"If you give the umbrella to me, what will you do?"
The other party reached out and gave a gentle push—the force was just right—sending the umbrella back into her arms.
"I have another."
Only then did Su Muhe notice he had another old umbrella strapped to his back.
She bit her lip, a hint of stubbornness in her voice.
"I don't like owing people favors."
"Then next time I'm caught in the rain, you can return it to me, Miss."
The young woman’s tense expression faltered for a moment, and she involuntarily looked away.
She had expected him to say "It's a small matter, don't worry about it," or perhaps boast like those wandering martial artists, saying "It's just rain, I'm used to it." But he told her to return it to him, and even spoke of a "next time"...
She deliberately knit her brows, her almond eyes filling with a touch of thin anger, but because the gesture was unfamiliar, it looked more like a playful reproach.
"I don't even know your name, sir. How am I to return it? Are you merely joking?"
"I am no 'sir,' just a country bumpkin. My surname is Li. As for my name..." He paused, once again revealing that intriguing smile. "My name is crude and not worth mentioning. You needn't keep it in mind. If fate allows, we shall meet again."
Su Muhe felt a surge of urgency, unsure what he meant by those words. Just as she was about to press him, the youth took the umbrella from his back and stepped into the rain, heading straight for the prefectural office.
"It's getting late, and the person I'm waiting for hasn't come out. I'm going in to find her."
He was waiting for someone too? And the person he was waiting for was also inside those gates?
Su Muhe was stunned. Her first instinct was that the youth before her was likely naive, unaware that the Prefect's office was not a place one could simply enter at will. She quickly offered a kind warning.
"This place is not like other parts of the city. They say Prefect Fan has the most rules; without a summons, you cannot just barge in..."
The figure under the umbrella didn't pause for a second.
"Thank you for your concern. Whether I can enter or not, I'll only know once I try."
Watching his retreating back, Su Muhe suddenly realized that although he was also waiting in the drizzle, he was nothing like her—he would never hesitate. He had likely made up his mind long ago and would not be swayed by a few words from her.
It was true now, and it had been true when he handed her the umbrella. Perhaps that was simply the kind of person he was.
Who was he waiting for? Who could make him charge in so recklessly? What was their relationship? Perhaps it was a master or a lady he served...
In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through Su Muhe’s mind. She had never been so curious about a person—so curious that her heart felt itchy and restless, so curious that she felt an impulse to investigate regardless of the cost, so curious that she felt as if another version of herself was about to break through the soil. And that version of herself looked nothing like the second miss of the Su family.
Su Muhe looked down at the worn oil-paper umbrella in her hand.
Perhaps what he had placed in her hand was not just an old umbrella, but her justification for leaving the manor next time, the courage to walk alone in the world, and the possibility of a new life.
She lifted her foot and took a step forward.
The rainwater on the ground was half an inch deep; her thin embroidered shoes were soaked through the moment they touched it.
The fine rain dampened her hair. She shook her shoes, and a strange yet exhilarating emotion took hold of her. She curled her lips into a smile, raised the old umbrella, and ran into the rain toward the receding figure.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 细雨沐禾 | Rain Upon the Grain | Chapter title; also a pun on Su Muhe's name. |
| 苏沐禾 | Su Muhe | The second daughter (concubine-born) of the Su family. |
| 稗草 | Barnyard grass | Echinochloa crus-galli; used as a metaphor for Su Muhe's low status compared to rice. |
| 弃子 | Discarded son / Abandoned piece | Refers to Qiu Ling's past status in his family. |
| 莲花码头 | Lotus Wharf | A major dock in Jiugao City. |
| 襦裙 | Ruqun | A traditional Chinese outfit consisting of a blouse (ru) and a wrap-around skirt (qun). |
| 袴腿 | Leggings / Trousers | Undergarment trousers worn beneath a skirt. |
| 李 | Li | The surname of the youth who gives Su Muhe the umbrella. |
