old friend
As dusk fell, the string of glass lanterns was lit up, their warm yellow light filtering through the translucent beads and scattering tiny stars across the bluestone slabs.
Yin Li, dressed in a light pink ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress), moved among the guests, her slender figure like a supple pink peach blossom in the crowd, the mole at the corner of her eye swaying gently with her smile. Having just seen off several old ministers who praised the "elegance of ink chrysanthemums," she turned to check if there was enough tea and snacks, but suddenly a very faint, cool fragrance lingered around her nose.
The fragrance was unique, a crisp scent of pine needles mixed with snowmelt, much like the smell she had faintly caught outside the sacrificial cave ten years ago, and also like the scent that Master Mu Han often carried on his sleeves in her previous life. Yin Li paused, subconsciously looking up at the crowd—not far away, by the moon gate, stood a man dressed in a black brocade robe with gold embroidery.
The brocade robe was embroidered with dark cloud and crane patterns, and the collar and cuffs were trimmed with silver thread, which shimmered under the lamplight with a subtle luster, making it clear at a glance that it was made of extremely precious material.
He had his back to her and was talking to a relative. His posture was as upright as a pine tree, and the lines of his shoulders and back were clean and familiar. Even the way he raised his hand to brush the hem of his sleeve made Yin Li's heart skip a beat. Was it him?
Yin Li clenched the handkerchief in her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly. She wanted to go forward and see clearly, but several famous scholars suddenly surrounded her, asking for her calligraphy. She could only patiently entertain them, but her eyes couldn't help but keep glancing towards the moon gate.
By the time she finally managed to escape, the figure in black had already walked into the depths of the garden, leaving only a tall, straight back as it disappeared into the shadows of the black chrysanthemum bushes.
She hurried after him, her light pink skirt brushing against the flower branches by the altar, scattering a few dark chrysanthemum petals.
But when they arrived at the chrysanthemum bushes, they only saw scattered lamplight shadows on the ground; there wasn't a single person in sight. Only the evening breeze brushed against the flower branches, bringing a faint, cool fragrance, exactly the same as the one they had smelled earlier.
"Young Miss, what are you looking for?" A maidservant carrying a food box approached and asked softly when she saw Yin Li standing by the flower bushes in a daze. Yin Li snapped out of her reverie, the throbbing of her heart still lingering on her fingertips. She shook her head, but a hint of unspoken expectation lingered in her eyes: "Nothing, just admiring how beautifully these black chrysanthemums are blooming." Though she said this, her gaze couldn't help but sweep around—the splendor of the dark brocade robe, the cool fragrance like pine needles, the familiar silhouette—all resembled the person she had been longing for day and night.
She didn't know if it was Master Mu Han, since she hadn't seen his face clearly, but the inexplicable flutter in her heart made her clench her handkerchief tightly.
Perhaps the master escaped?
Or perhaps it's just someone who looks similar? Just then, the steward's voice came from afar: "Miss, the guests are almost gone, we need to start cleaning up."
Yin Li took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in her heart, and turned to walk back. As she passed the moon gate, she couldn't help but glance at it again, as if she could still see that dark figure standing there, carrying her familiar cool fragrance, never having left.
Yin Li had just pulled herself out of her thoughts by the chrysanthemum bushes when she turned around and bumped into a familiar gaze.
Not far away, a woman in a lake-blue dress sat by a stone table, holding a delicately beautiful child in her arms, and feeding the child osmanthus cake with her other hand.
Her left cheek was covered by a half-silver eye patch, concealing her empty eye socket. Her right eye, still sharp, was exposed. When Yin Li looked over, a familiar, thorny smile appeared on her lips—it was Jin Jing.
"Oh, isn't this the eldest daughter of the Silver Prince's Mansion? It's been a few years, and you've become quite the hypocrite."
Jin Jing's voice was still the same as before, with a touch of nonchalant sarcasm. The child in her arms was amused by her and giggled, his little hands grabbing her sleeve and shaking it.
Yin Li was stunned for a moment, then stepped forward, the mole at the corner of her eye brightening slightly: "Jin Jing, what are you doing here?" She remembered that Jin Jing had disappeared after leaving Qinglang Mountain, and she never expected to see her at her own family's flower banquet.
Jin Jing had her maid take the child, then picked up her teacup and took a sip, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of the cup: "My husband is an editor at the Hanlin Academy in the capital. I received an invitation, so I came to join in the fun."
She paused, glanced at Yin Li with her right eye, and said in a still sharp tone, "But speaking of which, I recognized you as soon as I entered the manor—the pearl hairpin in your hair is a pearl taken from a clam shell on the back of Qinglang Mountain. You've worn it for so many years and you still haven't lost it."
Yin Li's heart skipped a beat: "You recognized me a long time ago? Then why..." "Why didn't I acknowledge you immediately? Even when we were at Qinglang Mountain, I didn't expose that you were a daughter of the Yin family?" Jin Jing interrupted her, scoffing, but without the previous sarcasm. She lightly tapped the stone table with her fingertips, "Do you think I'm stupid? When you first entered Qinglang Mountain, you were already burdened with the title of 'orphan of a heretical sect.' If people knew that you were the daughter of the Yin Royal Mansion, that old bastard of a master might have used you in some way."
I didn't say it because I didn't want you to fall into his trap.
She paused, her eyes softened, and her voice lowered: "Besides, back then I always made things difficult for you, deliberately fought with you for the stone platform to practice swordsmanship, and laughed at your crooked talisman drawing. It wasn't that I really disliked you."
There are so many people on Qinglang Mountain. They're either afraid of our master or they ostracize us 'outcasts.' I was thinking... if I argue with you, at least you'll pay more attention to me. Don't always cower in a corner, leaving no one to help you when you're bullied."
These words were like a pebble, stirring up ripples in Yin Li's heart.
She suddenly remembered that back in Qinglang Mountain, whenever she was mocked by other disciples for "not having parents," Jin Jing would always jump out immediately and retort with even more venomous words; when she twisted her ankle while practicing swordsmanship, it was Jin Jing who scolded her for being "clumsy," but silently handed her medicine.
Even when her master suspected her identity and questioned her indirectly, Jin Jing deliberately knocked over her teacup to interrupt the conversation. It turned out that those seemingly difficult actions were all subtle forms of protection.
"Thank you." Yin Li's voice was a little hoarse, her fingertips clutching a handkerchief, her eyes slightly red. "I used to think... you hated me."
"Hate you?" Jin Jing raised an eyebrow, picked up a teacup and handed it to her. "I'm not that bored."
"But you didn't disappoint me. I heard you dealt with that woman Yinmo and even brought the old geezer of the clan under your thumb. I never would have guessed that the little girl who couldn't even draw a talisman properly back then actually had some skills."
These words still sounded sarcastic, but Yin Li detected a rare hint of approval in them.
She took the teacup, sipped the warm Longjing tea, and looked at the child in Jin Jing's arms: "Is this your child? How old is he?" "Just turned one year old, his name is A Yuan."
Mentioning the child, a hint of tenderness flashed in Jin Jing's eyes. She reached out and teased the child's little face. "It's much more interesting than arguing with you on Qinglang Mountain back then. At least the child doesn't talk back to me."
Yin Li couldn't help but laugh, her eyes curving into crescents: "You're still the same as ever, always so sharp-tongued."
"But... I'm relieved that you're doing well now." "Stop with the sentimental act." Jin Jing rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything more sarcastic. She just looked at the string of glass lanterns in the distance. "You're the same. Now that you've dared to establish yourself in the Silver King's Mansion, don't be as soft and weak as you were back then."
If anyone causes you trouble again, just stand your ground. After all, you're the master of the Silver Prince's Mansion now. Don't lose the spirit you had when you argued with me back then.
The two sat there, exchanging a few words occasionally, but mostly remaining silent. There was no awkwardness, only an inexplicable mutual appreciation—back in Qinglang Mountain, one was an orphan girl practicing "unorthodox" methods, and the other an anomaly with "special bloodlines," both ostracized by others.
Now that they meet again, one has protected his family, and the other has a stable home; both are living the lives they wanted. "It's getting late; I should take A-Yuan back."
Jin Jing stood up, and a maid came over carrying the child. She gently stroked the child's head, then looked at Yin Li, "If there's anything, have your steward go to the Hanlin Academy to find my husband. I'll know."
Yin Li nodded, watching Jin Jing leave with the child in her arms, her smile deepening.
As soon as I turned around, that familiar, cool fragrance lingered around my nose again, but this time when I turned back, I saw nothing.
She clenched the handkerchief in her hand, but felt more at ease than before—whether it was reuniting with Jin Jing or catching that familiar scent, it made her feel that the road ahead would not be so difficult anymore.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
