Su Ningshuang had also reached the age to be betrothed.
The Su Family had arranged her marriage to the young master of Zhao Ning Manor, Pei Di.
Upon learning this news, Yan Xu was stunned for a long time.
His career had been progressing even more smoothly by then, with a higher position than before, but he remained disliked among his colleagues. He saw the listless Su Ningshuang in the Tea Pavilion and hesitated for a long time before he spoke to her for the first time, "You don’t want to marry?"
"Of course," Su Ningshuang pouted, "I don’t even know him."
After returning, Yan Xu thought it over for a long time and sent for a matchmaker to propose marriage to the Su Family on his behalf.
His thinking was simple: if Su Ningshuang disliked the matrimonial match with the Pei Family, he could use his own proposal to block it. If she was willing, it would also be nice to spend a lifetime painting maple leaves at Danfeng Pavilion.
The matchmaker returned quickly, saying the Pei Family had refused the proposal.
The next time he saw Su Ningshuang, she was sitting by the window in the Tea Pavilion. Unlike the previous days of dejection, she had a spirited twinkle in her eyes.
"I know you meant well by proposing at my home; thank you, but there’s no need anymore," she said.
"I secretly met with that young master of the Pei Family," Su Ningshuang, with her hands propping up her cheeks, couldn’t wait to share with him, "He is handsome, refined, and graceful, and what’s most important is that I tested his understanding through paintings, and he’s knowledgeable about art! He has quite a study in painting and calligraphy!"
"I think this marriage is good! I like him!"
Yan Xu had never seen her like this before, full of the bashful shyness of a young girl.
Many words he wanted to say were stuck in his throat, and he replied calmly, "Congratulations."
"Once the marriage is set, I’ll be busy embroidering my wedding gown, and I probably won’t come here as often. This painting is for you!"
She handed Yan Xu a painting.
It was a painting of the evening glow in the mountains at Danfeng Pavilion, its colors bright and brilliant, leaving a deep impression.
"When I’m married, each year when the maple leaves turn red, I’ll still come here to paint. By then, my painting skills should have improved greatly, so you’d better not refuse to let me paint your portrait anymore!" She said, laughing as she got up, drifting away like a falling maple leaf.
Yan Xu fell silent.
He was alone once more.
He used to think being alone wasn’t bad, enjoying the convenience of it, but he had probably grown accustomed to having someone chattering by his side. When he returned to Danfeng Pavilion, he found the quietness of the mountains somewhat cold and lonely.
Su Ningshuang got married soon after.
This was probably a well-matched union, a marriage of talents and beauty, fitting in social status. News about her life occasionally reached his ears; harmonious melodies played by the couple at banquets, soon after the joy of having a son, a young child who was clever and bright...
She was living happily.
He remained alone.
As his position rose higher and higher, people in the court with nothing better to do dug up the old story of his marriage proposal to the Su Family and made fun of him. To avoid causing her trouble, he intentionally spread rumors, claiming it was just a one-sided love from him to Miss Su, a thing unreciprocated. His reputation wasn’t great to begin with, so a little more tarnish didn’t matter to him.
And Su Ningshuang, having married into the Pei Mansion and become a wife and mother, no longer had her former freedom. Each year when the maple leaves turned red, he would go to the Tea Pavilion to drink tea, but she never appeared again.
He always thought it didn’t matter, as long as he waited for the child to grow up, and for her to have some free time. With the red maples of Danfeng Pavilion returning each year, life was so long that they were bound to meet again.
Until he received the news of her death.
Perhaps those who understand paintings don’t necessarily love them. The refined and graceful young master turned out not to be the good man she had thought he was.
He led a difficult life, with cold-hearted relatives and no true friends, except for one person who was not afraid, did not shun, did not despise him, like the warm evening glow of the Danfeng Pavilion that made his solitary years in the mountains a little less lonely. Yet now, this last person too had departed.
He left in such a desolate manner.
He was very angry.
This anger turned into vengeance.
When Prince Ning extended an invitation, he simply went with the flow—not that he really wanted to climb up the ranks after success. Perhaps he once yearned for power, but that yearning was so faint. When he finally acquired it, it felt meaningless.
He adopted a group of orphans to be his subordinates, save for one exception: her son. He was supposed to despise the bloodline of that man, yet the child resembled his mother so much, even the small dimple on his lip was identical.
He never married, nor did he have any children. Pei Di’s indifference towards Pei Yunmeng was almost terrifying; he cursed him while also treating him as though he was his own son.
Having people striving for the same goal made it seem like life had a purpose. Yet, when the revenge approached its final step, he suddenly felt a void in his heart.
What exactly was he avenging?
Su Ningshuang was not his lover; she was just a slight crush from his youth, quickly eroded by time. Yet, he devoted half his life for her, raised her son, and sought revenge on her behalf. It was terrifying that in this process, he could feel pleasure, one of the rare satisfactions in his empty life.
Ultimately, he was too lonely.
Su Ningshuang was right, "Your silhouette is very lonely. Paintings do not lie; they can see into your heart."
He was just too lonely.
So lonely that after she left, he found the world to be utterly tasteless, and power struggles seemed pointless.
In the end, when the long knife swung towards Xiao Zhufeng, he pushed the other man away. As the blade pierced him, he felt a long-missing sense of relief.
His two disciples were crying messily in front of him, yet he felt very consoled.
In this world, human hearts are fickle. The New Emperor ascends the throne, but the future remains uncertain. Those who shared the same boat may not stand together when it comes to it. Dying at a moment when bonds were deepest was perhaps the best legacy he could leave his two disciples.
He could rest easy now.
It was just so tiring.
At the end of a lifetime of ceaseless striving, what can one truly gain?
He felt as though he had everything, but he was never happy; there was nothing worth joy.
"Yan Xu." Someone called his name.
He looked up and saw a face with curved brows and eyes.
The young girl carrying a book box came through the red maple trees with a sweet dimple on her cheek, lifting her skirt, smiling as she spoke, "Now you can’t say I owe you anything, can you? I’ve been waiting here for a long time, finally able to paint your portrait."
He was stunned for a while, until she came up to him, extending a hand.
"You arrived so late," she complained softly.
He looked at that hand. After a long, long time, he slowly reached out his hand toward hers and took hold of that hand.
"It is a bit late," he said.
The river is empty, wood gone and wild geese cry sorrowfully; frost enters Danfeng Pavilion, and all grass withers... The butterfly, unaware that life is but a dream, again follows the spring hue onto the cold branches...
The maple leaves at Danfeng Pavilion were always red; he never managed to wait for that person until later.
Now, he had finally waited.
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