The late autumn wind, wrapped in ginkgo leaves resembling broken gold, rustled through the winding corridors of the Prime Minister's residence. Jiang Yan sat on a patinated rattan chair beneath the corridor, his bony fingers gripping a curled-edge ginkgo leaf. The veins trembled slightly in his palm, like a butterfly trying to spread its wings. He wore a newly sewn fox fur coat by Su Jinli, but the collar was tilted to one side, revealing the moon-white undershirt beneath—the same material he had loved wearing when he was a Hanlin editor. Even now, the cuffs were frayed, yet he still wore it with great care.
"Master, it's time to take your medicine." Wanyun approached, carrying a black lacquer tray. The medicine in the bowl was steaming, and the aroma of codonopsis and angelica permeated the cool air. She walked softly, afraid to disturb the old man's deep thoughts.
Jiang Yan didn't respond, but simply muttered to himself towards the old pomegranate tree in the courtyard, "Sugar painting...Phoenix..." His fingertips traced the lines of the ginkgo leaves. Suddenly, he looked up, a fleeting glint of clarity flashing through his cloudy eyes, like a deep pool into which a stone had been dropped. "Girl, have you seen the sugar paintings by Old Man Zhang from West Street? The phoenix's tail can be stretched into a three-foot-long thread."
Su Jinli had just emerged from the kitchen, bearing a celadon plate of freshly baked almond pastries, their golden crust sprinkled with chopped sesame seeds. Hearing this, her hand holding the plate jerked, sending several pieces tumbling to the floor, carried forward by the autumn wind. She stared at the unfamiliar glint in her husband's eyes—the unvarnished starlight of a newly crowned top scholar from thirty years prior. Her heart felt like it had been pierced by an icy spike, the pain so intense that she could barely hold the plate.
"Master, it's time to take your medicine." Wan Yun urged again softly, trying to pass the bowl of medicine to his mouth.
"Who are you?" Jiang Yan suddenly waved Wan Yun's hand away, spilling a few drops of the dark brown medicine, leaving dark stains on the blue bricks. He stood up, propped up by a rattan chair, and stumbled towards Su Jinli, his eyes as focused as if they had first met on the street fifty years ago. "I recognize you. You're the girl from the South City Poetry Society who always changed 'The spring breeze greens the south bank of the river' to 'The spring breeze blows green the watermelon fields.'"
Su Jinli placed the almond biscuits on the stone table beside her, her fingertips trembling uncontrollably. She looked at the frosty white hair on Jiang Yan's temples, the knife-like wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but deep in his pupils she saw the young scholar in a green shirt squatting in front of the sugar painting stall, laughing at her dragon drawing that looked like an earthworm.
"My...my name is Jiang Yan." He pulled something from his sleeve pocket, seemingly summoning all his courage. It was a piece of bamboo, smoothed by time, with a naive phoenix sketched in light ink. The lines of its tail feathers were crooked, but they had been stroked countless times until they shone. "I know you like sugar painting, so this... is for you."
It was a bamboo candy painting he had given her fifty years ago. Back then, he was a poor scholar with a meager salary. He had saved three days' worth of food to buy her a candy painting, but she had gotten there first. In the end, he blushed and thrust his own phoenix painting into her hand. Su Jinli took the bamboo, her fingertips touching the rough calluses on his palm, marks from reviewing memorials and grinding ink for her. Suddenly, hot tears burst forth.
"Jiang Yan..." She choked, her throat felt like it was blocked by cotton.
"Miss," Jiang Yan gently held her hand. His fingertips were cold, but his grip was incredibly firm. His eyes were as serious as if he was answering questions in the throne room. "I'm just a poor scholar now. I don't have a fortune, but I have a lot of sour poems in my heart. But I will work hard, I will pass the imperial examination, and I will buy you the best sugar painting in West Street... Will you...will you marry me?"
He had said this in the dilapidated temple, when she was being harassed by Liu, and at their golden wedding celebration. But now, when he spoke from his confused mouth, every word was like a blunt knife, repeatedly cutting into Su Jinli's heart.
"Master!" Wan Yun was so frightened that her face turned pale. She hurried forward and tried to pull Jiang Yan away, but was stopped by Su Jinli with a look.
Su Jinli took a deep breath, wiped her tears with a handkerchief, and gave Jiang Yan a smile that was uglier than tears. She held his hand, her fingertips pressing hard, as if to transfer all her body warmth to him: "Okay."
"Really?" Jiang Yan's eyes lit up, like a child who had received a candy bar, a long-lost, pure smile bloomed on his face, "Then let's make a pinky promise!"
He held out his withered little finger, a trace of light ink from the ink grinder still lingering between his nails. Su Jinli held out her hand, trembling, and her two fingers, covered in age spots and wrinkles, intertwined and swayed gently in the autumn breeze.
"Sister! Sister! I heard it!" Su Heng's voice suddenly came from outside the moon cave door. He was holding a toy sword that was taller than his grandson, and the red tassel on the blade swayed in the wind. "Is Jiang Yan confused again? I just went to the study to look for him, and I saw him calling 'father-in-law and mother-in-law' to the portraits of our parents!"
Su Jinli quickly winked at him, signaling him to keep his voice down. Jiang Yan, however, turned to look at Su Heng curiously, his eyes full of vigilance: "Who are you? Jinli... No, Miss, who is he to you?"
"I'm her biological brother!" Su Heng stabbed the toy knife into the ground with a clang, then put his hands on his hips and acted like the "Little Bully" he was back then. "Jiang Yan, listen up! My sister is the daughter of the Prime Minister, a daughter of a royal family! If you dare to bully her, I'll... I'll take all those sour poems you've hidden under your bed and use them to provoke a fight!"
"Young Marquis!" Su Jinli hurried forward to stop him, "Don't scare him."
Jiang Yan wasn't afraid. Instead, he took a step forward, standing in front of Su Jinli like a hen protecting her chicks. He said firmly, "Don't be mean to her! She's the girl I'm determined to marry. If anyone dares to bully her, ask the sugar painting in my hand first!"
Su Heng looked at his serious expression, and remembered that when his sister first got married, Jiang Yan also protected her in this way. His eyes suddenly reddened. He turned around and said in a muffled voice: "I... I'll go to the front yard to see if Doctor Liu has arrived!"
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