The waters of the Huan River, turbid from days of continuous rain, lapped against the stony banks. In the east, the horizon brightened slightly, yet the sky remained somber, where leaden mists merged with the water’s surface in a seemingly boundless expanse.
A breeze swept over the river, carrying a slight chill as it rustled through the reed beds.
Su Muhe closed her eyes and took a deep breath, delicately discerning the scents carried by the wind.
Since she was a young child, she had preferred to understand the world through its aromas. Before the age of seven, even though she had never stepped beyond the confines of her small courtyard, she had never found life dull. She had explored every corner of that enclosure, familiarizing herself with the scent of every flower and blade of grass.
Later, when her father permitted her entry into the medicinal gardens and the pharmacy, the world she could explore expanded significantly. She grew accustomed to judging the quality of an object by its scent, and eventually, she learned to distinguish people and the world itself through their fragrances. Whenever she encountered an unfamiliar scent, an irrepressible desire to explore would rise from the depths of her heart.
She wanted to explore a larger world; she wanted to explore more complex people. Even if it meant stepping out of her sanctuary of herbs and medicine.
Su Muhe opened her eyes and knelt by the riverbank, carefully cupping the water to wash the reddish marks from her arm.
Her elder sister, who always strove to be first in everything, maintained her hands with exquisite care. She kept her nails long, supposedly so they would produce a crisp, pleasant sound when flicking the beads of her white jade abacus. The finest and most delicate balsams were grown in the manor specifically for Su Muzhi, yet she still complained that the juice of the balsam flowers was not vibrant enough, much to the distress of the young maid tending the garden.
Thus, Su Muhe had told the little maid of another substance whose juice could be used to dye nails—a color that was brilliant and did not easily fade. Eager to please her mistress, the maid had applied the method to Su Muzhi’s nails almost immediately. Su Muzhi had indeed been very satisfied, finding the purplish-red hue more magnificent than anything she had seen before.
However, her sister did not know that this special extract from the islands of the West Sea was not merely vibrant; it contained a toxin that could cause a racing heart and shortness of breath. If merely applied to the nails, it posed no great danger, but if it entered the flesh, it would rapidly take effect, causing a sudden surge of blood and a loss of consciousness.
And her fierce-tempered sister, whenever under pressure, loved nothing more than to dig her nails into her own palms and fingers.
The cold river water soon soaked Su Muhe's sleeve, but the purplish-red finger marks did not fade in the slightest.
Su Muhe stopped her efforts and stood up.
On the rough, damp shingle of the beach, Su Muhe moved her feet cautiously. Her thin-soled shoes were ill-suited for such terrain; merely standing caused her pain. Yet she refused to leave, pacing in place by shifting her weight from foot to foot, her gaze fixed steadily on the distant river surface.
Having gone and returned, Shang Qu hurried over from the other side of the beach, holding an oil-paper umbrella wrapped in soft cloth. Seeing Su Muhe’s expression and then looking out at the open vista of the river, a sense of irrepressible relief rose in her heart, making her voice turn cheerful.
"Just now, with so many eyes and ears about, Shang Qu did not dare say much. Now that we are alone, I must offer my congratulations to Miss."
Su Muhe turned to look at her and gave a light rebuke, though her expression held little actual blame.
"Do not speak recklessly. With such a great matter befalling the family, and with Father and Brother unable to return in time, Sister’s health has collapsed. I absolutely cannot falter; there are many things to worry about in the future."
"Miss is right," Shang Qu lowered her voice, though a hint of joy remained on her face. "I am simply happy for Miss from the bottom of my heart. You have endured and compromised in the manor for so many years; you are clearly the most capable, yet you were always forced to labor for the benefit of others. This time, it is finally your turn."
Su Muhe did not respond, only looking up at the sky.
"Why has the rain not fallen yet?"
Shang Qu blinked, caught between laughter and tears. After a moment’s thought, she unwrapped the oil-paper umbrella and stepped forward.
"Miss, the wind is strong by the river. Use the umbrella to shield yourself."
The somewhat worn oil-paper umbrella was hardly fitting for someone of the Su family’s status. But when Su Muhe saw it, a faint smile finally touched her lips. She nodded and stepped under its shade.
What did it matter if it wasn't raining? Now, she could finally stand under this umbrella as she pleased, without any reservations.
"Miss is waiting for someone, isn't she?"
Su Muhe said nothing, her eyes still fixed on the distance.
She had faith in her own judgment and possessed infinite patience for the things she desired. Since she could settle her heart to wait for today’s grand performance, she naturally would not miss him.
Near the distant Baosu Pier, the last of the government officials were trickling away, and the bailiffs patrolling the banks had all dispersed.
Finally, there was a slight movement on the river where the reeds interlaced. An inconspicuous black dot emerged from a patch of reed leaves, slowly approaching along the waterway. It occasionally hid in the small islets shrouded by grass and at other times glided swiftly across the water, quietly avoiding all eyes as it made its way toward Yinma Beach.
A moment later, the dot drew closer. It was a youth punting a small skiff. His head was lowered. Once the skiff touched the shore, he leaped out and stepped onto the shingle without looking back. After walking a short distance, he stopped and stood by the water’s edge, lost in thought.
He was clever and cautious. After escaping on the emergency skiff from the Su family cargo ship, he had used the dim light of dawn to hide among the nearby fishing boats. When the Su family ship docked, he had not rushed to land. Instead, he hid in the nearby reeds, waiting until everyone on shore had dispersed before landing at this shallow beach near the pier.
She had predicted all of this with near-perfect accuracy, and finally, he had appeared.
"Wait for me here. I will be back shortly."
Su Muhe spoke, and without waiting for Shang Qu’s complaints, she took the umbrella and walked alone toward the youth by the water.
Li Qiao had not gone far. He stood where he was, his expression hazy and indistinct in the morning light.
The morning waters of the Huan River shimmered with a grey-blue hue, nearly blending with his dust-stained outer garment. In the distance, several foraging waterbirds glided on the wind, causing ripples on the surface. The stray hairs on his forehead were lifted by the breeze, swaying slightly like soft water-lilies in the current.
"Li Qiao."
The youth turned his head and looked at Su Muhe quietly. His gaze was unreadable, and the moment their eyes met, he turned away again.
"The Second Miss should have matters to attend to. Why waste time here with an idle person like me?"
He had indeed seen the scene at the pier earlier. Her choice not to leave had been the right one.
"I have been waiting for you."
The youth looked up at the void of the sky, the last trace of a curve at the corner of his mouth flattening out.
"Waiting for me? Waiting for me to do what?"
To do what? In truth, she did not know. She simply wanted to see him again at a moment like this, to tell him that she was now very different from who she had been.
Su Muhe stopped three or four paces away from him, suppressing the urge to step closer. She steadied her breath before speaking.
"About the matter with the people from Tingfeng Hall... I am truly sorry. But it won't happen again. In the future, I will..."
He did not turn to look at her, merely cutting her off.
"The Second Miss need not blame herself, much less explain anything to me. There was never any connection between us, and what happened last night held no other meaning."
A gust of wind blew from the river. It seemed as though something dissipated in that wind, or perhaps there had never been anything in the wind to begin with.
Su Muhe felt a strange sensation in her heart. Everything today had gone according to her expectations, except for this scene before her. Where had it gone wrong?
She softened her tone, her voice exceptionally sincere.
"Rest assured, I have never mentioned you to anyone in the manor. They won't be able to trace today’s events back to you. From today onward, I will return everything in the Su Manor to its proper track. If you are willing, we can still be as we were before... No, we don't have to be as reserved and distant as before. You can come to the manor to find me; I promise no one will cause trouble again. You don't have to work for the Second Young Master of the Qiu family anymore. I can arrange for you to enter the Su Manor and stay by my side. If you don't like being seen, I can find a quiet post for you..."
Su Muhe’s voice was as soft as late spring rain falling on the river. Yet, the moment it reached the youth’s ears, it transformed into the whispers of a mountain ghost in a midnight dream.
He gazed at the void of the sky, and in a daze, he seemed to see unsettling shadows within the churning, dark-blue clouds.
Their faces were all noble and beautiful, yet all filthy and hideous. Their voices were all gentle and sweet, yet all violent and sinister. They surrounded him like damp air, soaked him like continuous rain, and imprisoned him like a muddy swamp. In the name of cultivation, they constantly pruned him, wanting him to become elegant and submissive, to be easily manipulated, to lose the will to resist—otherwise, they would punish him as if uprooting him, torturing him so he could never rise again for ten thousand years.
He often thought he had left hell, yet he could always return there in a single moment just by lifting his head.
The rain was about to gather and pour down, just as those condescending figures were about to surge toward him.
"Enough. There is no need to say more." Li Qiao finally turned around. The look he gave Su Muhe was freezing; his light brown eyes had lost all warmth. "Whether the Su Manor is in the hands of Master Su, the Eldest Miss, or you, the Second Miss, makes no difference to me. Previously, I was willing to lend you my umbrella because I thought you might be somewhat different from them. But looking at it now, you are all the same."
An indescribable unease struck her, and Su Muhe stumbled back half a step.
The receding tide surged back up, wetting the hem of her skirt. It was damp and heavy, reminding her of the rain in front of the county magistrate's office that day.
"How can there be no difference? I am not my father or brother, and certainly not my sister. I have my own bottom line and my own persistence. Since I am in charge of the Su family, I can give you protection. And if I can give you protection, I can give you other things. You needn't be afraid; I won't force you. I actually... have a bit of a liking for you..."
"The Second Miss has said so much, but it is only about what you want or do not want, not about liking or not liking." The youth’s voice rose again, ruthlessly cutting through her confession. "You simply want me, but I prefer to be alone."
Su Muhe was stunned.
If she were to look down at her reflection in the river at this moment, she would find that the shock in her eyes outweighed the sorrow. She stared blankly at the person before her, suddenly understanding where that alluring yet detached aura about him came from.
Perhaps the plantain was meant to grow wild, and it was only through later pruning that it became so elegant. And because of this, whenever it saw someone approaching with shears, it would instinctively resist.
But she could not give up. "Wielding her shears," she approached once more.
"Li Qiao..."
She called his name, but he frowned as if in disgust.
"Congratulations to the Second Miss for obtaining her heart's desire. Since I played a part in it, I should feel honored. However, now that the Second Miss is sober, she should stop speaking such drunken words. It is best we part ways here and never meet again, lest others see us and start rumors, rendering the Second Miss’s painstaking efforts today in vain."
Su Muhe’s face was paler than the morning light on the horizon.
"It’s not like that... it shouldn't be like that..."
Anxiety filled her heart, and for a moment she forgot her manners. Thinking there was no one around and desperate to explain, she could not help but step forward to grab him.
But just as she was about to touch him, he suddenly dodged.
His movements were too agile; he evaded her hand in an instant.
Su Muhe’s hand remained suspended in mid-air, filled with an indescribable sense of frustration and embarrassment.
"Second Miss, please conduct yourself with dignity."
Su Muhe froze where she stood. She had never reached out to another young man in her life, and thus had never encountered such a situation. She felt the blood rush to her head, leaving her unable to react.
Not far away, her maid in pink saw this and hurried over, her lips trembling with rage.
"You... you country bumpkin! How dare you spurn our Miss?!"
The "bumpkin" still standing there lowered his fair face, his expression devoid of any anger.
"I am indeed merely a coarse man, truly unworthy of the Miss. As for this umbrella... if the Second Miss finds it too old and worn, simply throw it away. There is no need to return it to me."
A single sentence, like the flick of an invisible blade, severed the last thread of connection between them.
Su Muhe finally stopped moving. She stood rooted to the spot, offering no further words to make him stay.
The rain arrived as expected, drenching everything in an instant.
Having said his final piece, the youth did not give her another glance as he turned and walked away quickly. He walked with such speed and resolve that the woman knew, with just one look at his back, that today was entirely different from that day in the fine drizzle.
That day, she could catch up to him. Today, she could never follow in his footsteps.
"Miss, please don't be angry... He... he is just a brute who understands nothing. He has no heart..."
Su Muhe’s voice was soft, as if she were not responding to her maid, but merely whispering to herself.
"It is no matter. Perhaps from the day we met, it was destined to end this way."
In truth, perhaps it was only the rain that had led her to take that step that day, yet she had believed it was because of him. He had merely shown her another possibility for the world, and she had mistakenly thought that as long as she went to that world, he would accompany her all the way.
He was indeed her opportunity, just not the kind she had imagined.
In a daze, Su Muhe felt as if she had returned to the square medicinal garden of her childhood.
Her grandmother, a practitioner of Buddhism, had planted many plantain trees beside the garden. Upon seeing them, she would say, "There is no solidity within; they are the most ethereal," words Su Muhe had not understood at first. Once, a gardener weeding the area had accidentally cut one down and was scolded. Curious, she had approached the fallen plant.
She still remembered how she had used a small knife to peel away the layers of that elegant stalk: withered brown, deep green, verdant green, tender yellow, until reaching the pale white core...
Yes, how could she have forgotten? No matter how people spoke of the plantain’s lush and magnificent form, or how tenderly it received the fine rain, that was not its true nature. Once you peeled back the stalk, you would find it was merely an illusion formed by layers upon layers of leaves. Its structure was not solid; it looked like a tree, but it had no heart.
He was like a wild plantain planted in a courtyard. Within its lush stalks, it might hide a small insect for the winter, a trace of midsummer heat, or the melancholy soul of a poet—but it would never grow a heart.
No matter how the pattering rain struck and nourished it, a heartless plantain would never give any response. In a certain moment just now, she seemed to have peeled away the youth’s layers with her bare hands, peering into the deepest corners of his being.
There was nothing there but the instinct for wild growth.
And the reason she had let go was because she knew that the barnyard grass growing in the rocky crevices of the fields was exactly the same.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 洹河 | Huan River | A river mentioned in the setting. |
| 凤仙花 | Balsam / Impatiens | Also known as rose balsam; used for dyeing nails. |
| 宝粟码头 | Baosu Pier | A specific pier/docking area. |
| 饮马滩 | Yinma Beach | Literally "Horse-Drinking Beach," a location by the river. |
| 芭蕉 | Plantain | Specifically the *Musa basjoo* (Japanese fiber banana), often used in Chinese literature as a metaphor for emptiness or heartlessness because it lacks a solid woody trunk. |
| 稗草 | Barnyard grass / Weed | A common weed that looks like rice; used here as a metaphor for Su Muhe's own nature. |
