Chapter 55: Why Does the Autumn Wind Mourn the Painted Fan

When he had gifted her that dagger, what had he said? Shen Yu had spoken many words that day…

"Which words do you mean?" Chu Xiu thought back for a moment, puzzled by his intent.

At her response, Shen Yu sighed softly, his face wearing an expression that seemed to say he had expected this. After a pause, he drew another dagger from his sleeve, placed it beside the first, and set them both on the desk. "I once said, if you were willing to return, this dagger would be the token of our bond."

Under the wavering blue candlelight, the two cold, hard objects lay quietly on the table—embossed with gilt patterns, chilling to the touch. One was set with a red gemstone, the other with a green, both exquisitely delicate. Now, seeing the two daggers together, Chu Xiu finally noticed that the sheaths were carved with mandarin ducks, and the two gemstones were the eyes of the pair.

In the past, ignorant of love's taste, she had thought her heart was only broken by Helian Qi, unable to comprehend the meaning behind Shen Yu's words. Yet now, after the subtle emotions she had experienced with Yun Ci, and with the mandarin duck daggers before her, the words "affection" and "depth" became inescapable truths.

Even if she were more dense, Chu Xiu could now understand Shen Yu's meaning.

"Young Marquis..." Chu Xiu's eyes widened in disbelief, her face full of shock. "Are you... making a jest of me?"

"Look at what state you're in—would I choose this time to jest?" Shen Yu replied in a low voice, not a trace of frivolity in his tone. "Or do you believe that when I risked offending the Ming family to hide you in Zhuihong Courtyard, it was merely out of infatuation?"

Chu Xiu pressed her lips together, only staring at the pair of daggers, not answering.

"The fault lies only with me, back then..." Shen Yu began, then sighed. "Forget it... You left with Wan Zhi last October, and now it's already September. In this year, I've thought much... I intended to make this trip, to confess my feelings properly, and now the chance has come. Chu Xiu, since he doesn't cherish you, I—"

"Young Marquis." Chu Xiu felt as if the red and green gems on the daggers stabbed her eyes; she looked away, flustered. "I am unclean... unworthy."

"Is it because you're unworthy, or simply unwilling?" Shen Yu asked bluntly. "You can't let him go? Do you like him that much?"

This time, Chu Xiu did not directly reject him. After a pause, she replied, "Setting aside whether I like him or not... The two of you have shared a bond for over ten years. Should you truly ask for me to return, how could such brotherhood endure?"

She sighed as she spoke. "Back then, when he asked you for me, he regarded me as your maid, and you did not refuse. If I had only served at his side, it would be nothing. But now, can you still bring yourself to ask?"

"Han Chu..." Shen Yu murmured her name, his expression complex, as if weighing his words.

Hearing that name again, Chu Xiu felt a strange sense of dislocation, as if from another lifetime. She turned to gaze at the window drapes, a self-mocking smile on her lips. "They say never covet a friend's wife. I dare not claim to be his wife, but things have come to this—he must give me up of his own accord; you cannot demand me back. This, you must understand better than I."

"In the end, you simply don't wish to leave him, is that it?" Shen Yu added with a bitter smile. This, in truth, was the heart of the matter.

"Yes." Chu Xiu answered without hesitation, clear and resolute.

"I once thought you were foolish... but now, I wonder, which one of us is the greater fool?" Shen Yu did not press her, only gave a lonely smile.

At this, Chu Xiu offered some comfort. "You only pity me and were momentarily bewitched. If you truly spoke out, you would surely regret it in the future."

"Is that so?" Shen Yu asked softly, but he no longer needed her reply.

The September breeze gently lifted a corner of the window curtain, carrying with it the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Martial artist that he was, Shen Yu's hearing was keen; his brows drew together. "I must go, lest your reputation be ruined."

Before he could move, a knock sounded at the door. "Chu Xiu." It was Dan Xin's voice.

Only then did Shen Yu breathe a long sigh of relief and turn to Chu Xiu. "Did I lose my temper with her just now?"

"Only just realized?" Chu Xiu replied with a laugh, going to unbolt the door. But when she saw clearly who was outside, her radiant smile froze on her lips.

Dan Xin was still at the door, but behind her stood Zhu Ying and... Yun Ci.

In that instant, Chu Xiu's eyes burned and stung; she could only stare fixedly at the man standing in the courtyard.

Yes, standing. Whatever medicine he'd taken, he was upright, hands clasped behind his back, tall and elegant. The night breeze lifted the hem of his dark red robe embroidered with golden clouds—a sight truly noble and fitting.

Since their acquaintance, this was the first time Chu Xiu had seen Yun Ci in any color but white. The immortal in white seemed to have become a new person, and in this groom's attire, he seemed touched by the mortal world, every bit a young aristocrat.

She had to admit—he wore it very well.

Chu Xiu dared not look at Yun Ci's expression, nor guess why he had come here on his wedding night, not even changing out of his ceremonial robes. She forced her lips into what remained of a smile, lowered her eyes, and bowed respectfully. "Congratulations, Marquis."

A soft reply came from across the way—just a single, indistinct "Mm," betraying no joy or sorrow.

Still with her eyes lowered, Chu Xiu saw a pair of costly boots embroidered with auspicious patterns pass before her, pausing for a moment before striding into the room, accompanied by the faint scent of wine.

The one who used to drink only dew from among the flowers had not escaped wine tonight.

"Zifeng, why are you here?" The question drew Chu Xiu back to herself. Yun Ci's voice was clear, even a little spirited. "At the banquet I tried to catch you to drink in my stead, but here you are, sneaking away."

Shen Yu only smiled, saying nothing, still visibly troubled.

Chu Xiu greeted Dan Xin and Zhu Ying as they entered, asking with a smile, "Has the banquet ended?"

"No, the Marquis claimed to be stepping out to clear his head," Zhu Ying replied.

Chu Xiu said no more, quietly closing the door.

By then, Yun Ci had noticed the pair of ornate daggers on the table, his brows knitting slightly. "These are..."

"I gave them to Han—"

"These are a private wedding gift from the Young Marquis," Chu Xiu swiftly interrupted, hastening to add, "He heard my throat had healed and came to check on me. He couldn't help showing off the daggers in front of me."

"Is that so?" Yun Ci tilted his head slightly, not turning back, then looked at Shen Yu across the table.

Shen Yu glanced at Chu Xiu and forced a smile. "Indeed! I wanted her opinion first."

The candlelight flickered in Yun Ci's clear eyes as he spoke, seemingly offhand, "Didn't the Wenchang Marquis's household already send their gifts? Still, this is just like you—always thoughtful."

Shen Yu kept up his strained smile. "It's just a token of my regard."

Without another word, Yun Ci ran his fingers over the carved patterns, his thumb tracing the red and green gems. Finally, he gave a faint smile. "Since that's the case, it would be rude to refuse." With that, he slipped the daggers into his sleeve.

To be honest, Chu Xiu was quite fond of that dagger. It had been a keepsake from a friend, and she had meant to treasure it. Yet fate had led to this outcome. She felt both reluctant and guilty, but somehow more at ease.

Since it was meant as a token of affection, perhaps it was better not to keep it at all.

Yun Ci showed no intention of lingering. Having accepted the daggers, he called out to Shen Yu, "Come, if you don't rescue me soon, I won't make it through."

Shen Yu agreed with a laugh, and the two left together.

As they passed her again, Yun Ci's steps were still steady. She could sense his displeasure at last, though she could not say whether it was directed at Shen Yu's nocturnal visit, the charade of the banquet, or simply at her. She dared not guess. From beginning to end, their encounter tonight went no further than this.

*****

Shen Yu had always been able to hold his liquor, yet tonight he was truly drunk, having shielded Yun Ci from who knew how many toasts. In the end, his mentor Qu Fang could not bear to watch, and sent someone to bring sobering soup and help Shen Yu to his quarters.

Yun Ci kept a faint smile on his lips as he saw each guest off. He seemed tipsy, but on closer look, his gaze was clear and cold.

Inside Zhiyan Pavilion, everything was awash in red—red silken canopies, red lanterns, every branch and flower tied with crimson cords. The windows bore the character for "joy," and even the door curtains were embroidered with a hundred blessings, so that the night itself seemed to burn with red light.

Yun Ci stepped slowly into Zhiyan Pavilion, his eyes dazzled by the blaze of color.

In the bridal chamber, the dragon and phoenix candles burned bright. The maids and attendants lined up, offering congratulations as they went through the rituals—changing clothes, extinguishing the candles, untying the red knots. At last, when only the two newlyweds remained, Yun Ci approached the bed.

The bed was strewn with red dates, peanuts, longans, and lotus seeds—symbols of fertility and happiness. Yet who knew he had just lost a child? The bride sat quietly at the bedside, graceful and demure, the very ideal of a noble lady.

Suppressing his emotions, Yun Ci picked up the golden stick and lifted her veil. For a moment, the exquisite beauty beneath left him dazed. Who was this flawlessly adorned woman? Was it truly her? Had she ever worn rouge before? She should have been unadorned.

Yet the shyness on her face was just the same—bright eyes glistening, a teardrop mole at the corner.

"Brother Wanzhi." The bride slowly raised her eyes, smiling softly, pulling Yun Ci's thoughts back to the present. The woman before him, so strikingly similar, was another person. In truth, he had known her even longer, perhaps knew her better.

"Pingyan." He still called Xia Yanran by her childhood name, bowing his head.

That single address was enough to bring a flush to Xia Yanran's cheeks. Remembering something, she gazed at him with limpid eyes. "Brother Wanzhi, do you still remember our wager from seven years ago?"

"I remember." Yun Ci stood at the bedside, looking down at her.

"I had no idea that my casual jest about renaming the garden would be taken so seriously by you." Xia Yanran raised her sleeve to hide her smile. "Only today did I learn it's now called Zhiyan Pavilion." Her words held a hint of anticipation, as if waiting for his response.

Yun Ci pressed his lips tightly, showing no amusement. "A wager is a wager. Since I lost to you then, I had to keep my word." He had no desire to dwell on such trivialities, and turned to pour the nuptial wine, handing a cup to Xia Yanran in silent invitation.

She understood and, with slender hands, accepted and drank with him, her face blushing even deeper.

The shadows of the dragon and phoenix candles danced uncertainly, and at some point, someone had snuffed them out. But tonight, someone was destined to remain sleepless.