Page 11 of Silk and Sensibility

Heli, ecstatic to have his kite back in one piece, hugged Ming­ming fiercely. “You’re the best, Auntie Ming­ming!”

Ming­ming patted his head.

With the task accomplished, it was time for the sisters to rejoin Mother, who was spreading ointment on Fan Enze’s palms. His scrapes glistened in the light. Ailin felt her pulse quicken as she neared the young man.

When would Fan Enze leave the courtyard? It was not his fault, but his presence made her nervous, especially after hearing that Fulan visited that morning to forbid her and her sisters from interacting with him. No good would come from countering Fulan’s wishes.

Lingering behind her sisters and Heli, however, Ailin could not miss the gratitude and respect Fan Enze showed toward her mother. As Mother sewed up the tear in his sleeve, his eyes shone like a puppy that had just been fed.

“I don’t know how to thank you, Madame Duan. I don’t remember the last time someone mended my clothes for me.”

“Did your mother not sew?” Mother asked as she tied off her stitching.

“She passed away when I was very young, and my stepmother sent me away to school soon after she married my father,” Fan Enze replied with neither bitterness nor fondness.

Mother’s sympathy, however, was clearly roused. She was a stepmother who had tried her best to care for Junyou when he was young and had worried about his welfare after he left to pursue his official career. Even when he was away, she sewed him a new set of clothes every year. The thought of any child being forcibly separated from its family would naturally tear at her heart.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mother said. “What was your school life like? Was there no housekeeper or maid to take care of you there?”

“Teacher Pang was not wealthy enough to hire servants. He had two nieces, but they were as young as we were, so we pupils mostly took care of ourselves.”

“My dear child, I did not realize that you bore such difficulties in your youth.” Mother cradled Fan Enze’s hands with trembling fingers.

“But your life will get better once you marry Miss Mo, won’t it?” Ming­ming asked in a poor attempt to lighten the mood. “Sister-in-law said that your betrothed comes from a very well-off family.”

Fan Enze turned pale, an unexpected reaction for a young man being teased about his intended marriage, but his tone was collected when he replied, “There must have been a miscommunication. I am not betrothed to Miss Mo.”

Ailin immediately felt lighter. If Fan Enze was not actually betrothed, perhaps this interaction was less improper, even if Fulan wouldn’t be happy about it.

“Who is Miss Mo to you, then?” Meilin asked impertinently, already talking to Fan Enze as if he were an intimate acquaintance.

Perhaps surprised by the sudden and intense interest in his relationship status, Fan Enze fumbled for an answer. His gaze traveled between Mother, Ming­ming, and Meilin. Somehow, in the confusion, his eyes briefly caught Ailin’s before he glanced down. The expression on his face struck a chord with Ailin because it was all too familiar. They were kindred spirits in their susceptibility to embarrassment.

“My parents were friends with the Mo family when I was an infant, and they sometimes discussed the idea of uniting our families through marriage. However, I have never met Miss Mo, and no steps have been taken to formalize a betrothal.”

The song of late-season cicadas filled the gap in conversation as Fan Enze’s words sank in.

Ailin wondered if her family was as curious as she was regarding why Fulan emphasized her brother’s connection with Miss Mo so adamantly while he himself remained uninterested. And why was Fan Enze readily offering so much information about himself to near-strangers?

Heli broke the silence. “Uncle, since you’re not betrothed, can you marry one of my aunties and stay here forever?”

Ailin’s cheeks grew warm as Meilin and Ming­ming burst into laughter. She quickly hushed them. Heli’s words obviously stemmed from a childlike desire to keep his family members close. Laughing was inappropriate.

Fan Enze did not look amused either. The tight expression on his face almost looked like pain. Oddly, it hurt Ailin’s feelings. Certainly, the idea of him marrying her or one of her sisters was silly, but was Heli’s comment so bad as to be painful?

Mother defused the situation with a light laugh and an affectionate pat of Heli’s head. “Children say the funniest things. Don’t give it too much weight, Master Fan. You are my dear Heli’s uncle, so you will be family to us no matter what. You are always welcome here.”

A week later, Ailin sat beneath the persimmon tree with an idle paintbrush. She wanted to paint the auspicious blue-and-white magpie perched on the branch before it flew away, but she was having no luck because Begonia stood next to her, chatting. The maid was supposed to help her create eight pieces of art to pay back Uncle Chen’s loan, but Begonia was more in a mood to gossip than to grind ink.

“Have you heard what all the servants have been saying about Master Fan, miss?”

Ailin set down her paintbrush. In the time it would take to finish a conversation with Begonia, the magpie would likely become a blur in the sky. She might as well take a break. Her thoughts were too jumbled to paint now anyway.

Ever since Fan Enze had arrived at Nuolan Garden, the entire house had been abuzz with excitement. For a household officially in mourning, the young man’s arrival was the most interesting event in months. Yet, his presence was a personal source of anxiety for Ailin, from their first secret encounter to her continued inability to forget it. The heat of his calloused palm seared into her conscience.

“Tell me what you’ve learned.” The more Ailin knew about Fan Enze, the better she could protect herself and her family from conflict. He was Fulan’s brother and special guest. She, her mother, and her sisters could neither afford to offend nor get too close to him, even if they had fallen for his easygoing manners.

Begonia’s dimpled smile showed her eagerness to share the fruits of her fact-finding. “The opinion on whether he is handsome or not is divided, but all the household talks about how down-to-earth he is. He thanks everyone for everything, even the lowest-ranked servants, as if he’s never been served before. Isn’t that peculiar for a gentleman from a rich family?”