Page 39 of Silk and Sensibility

Meilin wondered how long it would take for Sandy to get bored of hiding or for Treasure and Fortune to realize their mistake.

The next interruption to her song came not from the children but from a man. Captain Bai strode into the courtyard with such vigor that it broke her train of thought, making one of her fingers catch on a zither string. She clicked her tongue in annoyance as the small cut started to bleed.

“Are you all right?” Captain Bai ran toward her. “Here. Allow me.” He wrapped a clean cloth around her finger as if it was second nature. His movements were gentle and swift.

Stunned by the speed of his reaction, Meilin couldn’t respond right away, though a warmth filled her belly. “Um. Thank you.”

Regaining her senses, she pulled her hand back. She couldn’t believe she had lost her focus because of him. She hated even more that, in her moment of weakness, she had enjoyed his care. It was a reflex that betrayed her principled dislike of him.

She could never allow herself to be attracted to a man based on something as shallow as a physiological reaction. Sure, he was more handsome and educated than an average soldier, but he already had an illegitimate child with another woman. Who knew what other experiences colored his history? Furthermore, just last night, he had aggressively interrupted her conversation with Master Wei. That showed he could be actively contrary in addition to being passively unpleasant.

What was Captain Bai even doing here in the first place?

Then she noticed the leopard embroidered on his blue silk robes and the silver belt at his waist. Official robes. He must have come from a meeting with important people in town. He so often wore dusty training clothes when he came to pick up Sandy that she sometimes forgot he was a high-ranking officer, not a poor conscript.

“Your rendition of the ‘Song of Guangling’ was beautiful,” Captain Bai said as he took a step away from her.

“You know it?” Meilin asked in surprise.

“Someone close to me loved to play the zither,” he said, uncharacteristically tender. The softness in his voice was how Meilin expected a man to speak of his lover. It reminded her of her reasons for not trusting him.

“What brings you here?” she asked, trying to make her voice as neutral as Ailin would when speaking to a stranger.

“My duties concluded earlier than expected today so I’m taking Sandy home. The other children said she was hiding, and I thought she might have come here because of your music.”

“Does Sandy like the zither?”

“Her mother did.” The fondness in Captain Bai’s voice was unmistakable, confirming to Meilin that Sandy’s mother could not possibly have been Captain Bai’s sister-in-law.

As if bidden by their conversation about her, little Sandy came running out from her hiding place behind the boulder.

“Uncle!” she cried as she jumped into his arms the way she always did.

The gravity in Captain Bai’s face vanished as he twirled Sandy around with ease. He asked about her day and nodded empathetically when she responded with a childish stream of words. Only after Sandy had finished speaking did he respond.

“Shall we apologize for disturbing Miss Meilin’s playing before we leave?”

“I didn’t disturb her,” Sandy replied. “Miss Meilin helped me win hide-and-seek because I was quiet. You’re the one who made her stop playing and talk with you so long.”

“It’s all right.” Meilin had no intention of comforting Captain Bai, but she didn’t want Sandy to feel any guilt on his behalf. His actions were not her fault.

“I wish I could hear you play another song.” Sandy pouted. “You play so pretty.”

Meilin glanced at Captain Bai. As little as she wanted to play for him, she didn’t want to let down a child with such a remarkable appreciation of the zither. “I would be happy to play for her if you allow it.”

“Are you sure?” Captain Bai’s dark eyes lit up with an earnestness that made Meilin uncomfortable.

It’s a trick. She couldn’t let herself be mesmerized by him. Besides being a respected military officer, he had nothing else in his favor—not in history or personality. He was the opposite of Master Wei in all the ways that mattered.

After pushing down the strong feelings that sprang up whenever Captain Bai was near, Meilin answered honestly, “My music is for anyone who wants to listen.”

“Then we would love to listen.”

Meilin spent the next hour playing her zither for two listeners that she never expected. They listened attentively, appreciating her music in a way no one had in a long time, perhaps not since Father passed away. In a single day, the world had turned upside down. Ailin’s relationship with Enze, which she had taken for granted, was now a forbidden topic. Captain Bai, whom Meilin loathed, was listening to her music like a friend.

On this strange day, there was only one thing Meilin was certain of: If it weren’t for the retreat of the winter sun drawing the day to a close, she might have played on.

天各一方，為情所困。