Page 36 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

Snow had even settled on Yun-shan himself, and on his qin. His hair and long eyelashes were dusted white with snowflakes. He looked like an immortal who had stepped out of a painting. Beautiful. Distant. And utterly alone.

“Big brother?” she asked uncertainly. “Where is Qing-he?”

For a long moment, he did not respond, as though he was trying to remember how to talk. The silence in the courtyard felt even heavier, and Yun-si glanced around for signs of Qing-he.

“She has left.” Yun-shan said with his usual perfect composure.

The snow on his eyelashes crumbled away as he looked down at his qin and said very, very softly, with a tone that left her heart in tatters, “She has left me.”

Chapter 16

Two months later

Yun-si tried to glide gracefully in the extravagant excess of silk that threatened to trip her every step. Her dress was fashioned from layers upon layers of the palest celadon silk, discreetly stitched with tiny silver flowers that caught the light like stars. Beneath the outer robes lay shades of pink from the deepest rose to the lightest blush, and color bloomed with every step she took. The dress had cost her entire savings for the year, but she had wanted to look beautiful, not disappear into the background like usual. Right now, every tael of that silver was conspiring against her.

She’d made it down the long palace path to the imperial gardens. Through the garden gate. Past the ornamental rocks. Even navigated the winding bridge without incident. But now, her hem had caught on something—probably that decorative pine branch she’d thought looked so artistic two seconds ago.

Of course,she thought, yanking discreetly at the fabric.Of course this happens when he’s looking.

Gu Ting-zhi’s eyes were fixed on her, she could feel that heated intensity even from this distance. But it was the scholar standing beside him who called out, “Maiden Shen,” his voice carrying that particular tone educated men used when they were trying very hard not to laugh. “The lanterns are quite beautiful here, are they not?”

He was giving her a convenient excuse. Pretending her awkward pause by the pine tree was simply aesthetic appreciation.

Right, that was nice of him, “Yes, they are beautiful.” She smiled gently, her head tilted in that demure position with eyes looking down as usual, while her hands continued to yank at her dress. Who was he again? Xu family... ahh yes, Xu Cheng-yi, the second son of the Xu family, the pastry devourer. Finally, her skirt was free, she tilted her head in farewell and walked towards the garden where the ladies’ gathering was.

“Third Maiden Shen is so demure and shy,” Cheng-yi enthused, his chubby face still tilted in the direction Yun-si had disappeared, watching her blossoming skirts vanish into the lantern-lit garden with the sort of admiration usually reserved for a particularly exquisite pastry. “Look at that quiet gentleness, that proper demeanor. A home with her as the main wife would be a sweet haven indeed. I wonder if her family has already arranged a betrothal for her?”

Ting-zhi’s expression turned thunder-black. He turned the look slowly onto the man he called his friend and stared coldly at him. “Xu Cheng-yi.” he said, very, very quietly. “You must be eating too recklessly at your family’s restaurants again. A man who does not pick what is suitable for his constitution risks injuring his—” a pause, loaded and deliberate, “—health. Perhaps a damaged brain that’s prone to ridiculous delusions.”

Xu Cheng-yi blinked at him. Then blinked again. Then had the good sense to look slightly alarmed.

“No, no, you misunderstand me entirely.” He waved a hand in frantic clarification. “I am not asking for my sake.” A strangled hiccup escaped him, then his face brightened up with an expression that suggested he was rather proud of himself for being clever. “I was asking foryou, our newly-minted Flower Scholar.”

The title landed with all the ceremony of a formal proclamation.

Gu Ting-zhi’s face went still. Then, slowly, like ice thawing in spring, the dark expression dissolved entirely. The edges of his eyes and the corner of his mouth curved upward in a slight smile.

The Jade Grove Banquet was held under an evening sky, in the imperial gardens lit from end to end with silk lanterns. Lacquered tables stretched in two great formations across the garden, seating the ladies to the east and the gentlemen to the west. A broad path of raked gravel ran between them. Behind a latticed screen, musicians played softly, the melody threading through the low murmur of voices. At the far end, a vermillion dais had been raised where the Emperor’s table commanded a view of both sides, with a smaller seat arranged beside it for the Princess.

Curtains hung to shield the ladies’ dining area for propriety. But the translucent white silk curtains, fine as morning mist, did absolutely nothing to obscure vision. Yun-si could see perfectly through them.

She could seehim.

Two months. Sixty days. She devoured the sight of him greedily. Did he seem thinner? Paler? Tired?

Her fingers twisted in her lap, crushing the embroidered silks. The other ladies around her were chattering, their voices pitched to carry through the curtains in that particularly calculated way young women used when they wanted to be overheard but maintain deniability.

The Jade Grove Banquet honored those ranked in the top three hundred during the triennial Imperial examinations. But there was an unspoken understanding: this was an opportunity to observe potential matches. Young ladies from distinguished families received invitations precisely for this reason.

Yun-si attended alone as Lady Shen had fallen ill. Yun-yao would have been an impeccable chaperone, but the fearless Great General had quailed at the mere thought of his pregnant wife navigating a crowded banquet and firmly declined the invitation for her. Lady Shen had her reservations about this arrangement, naturally. But Yun-si had argued that the Chancellor and Yun-shan would be there, making her perfectly respectable. And besides, she’d added shyly, didn’t Mother want her to observe potential matches?

Her mother had relented, though not without a warning about maintaining decorum.

“The Flower Scholar is quite handsome this year,” someone tittered behind her fan.

“Remember the Orchid Gentleman?” Someone giggled. “Surely no scholar has ever been more beautiful.”

“Sigh, Scholar Shen set an impossible standard. He was ranked first for his treatises, and yet he is certainly the most beautiful scholar ever to live. The Flower Scholar that year had a beard! Tsk.”