Since the Double Seventh Festival, Pei Huai’an had been busy for a while. When he finally found some free time, he realized that it had already been half a month since he confessed his feelings to her.
Half a month should have been enough for her to calm down and think carefully about how to respond to him.
But according to Shen Youran, she had been grounded by her mother, likely because of that night at the Vermilion Bird Bridge, when Liang Liu-lang caught them kissing.
She probably hadn’t confessed to her family yet, and the one with her that day was him—otherwise, the matter would have already blown up at the Pei residence.
This was within Pei Huai’an’s expectations. After all, she had just decided to let go of Qingjian, and wouldn’t accept his feelings so quickly. That night, he’d been impulsive—not only had he kissed her, he’d also confessed.
He ought to be a little more patient.
But since the words were already spoken, there was no taking them back. Now all he could do was wait, hoping she’d give him an answer before that cousin came to the capital.
That night, his colleagues were gathering at the Fengle Tavern. As Pei Huai’an walked toward the reserved private room with his peers, he suddenly saw her, catching him completely off guard.
She wore a pomegranate-red skirt, lively and full of spirit, chattering non-stop to the young man beside her. As he drew nearer, he could hear her saying that she’d go play by the Jinshui River with that cousin tomorrow.
It seemed that the man was indeed the cousin she’d mentioned before—the one who had come to arrange a marriage.
Her grounding had already been lifted, yet she hadn’t come to find him. Instead, she took her cousin around the city.
Pei Huai’an felt a bad premonition rising in his heart.
She finally noticed him too, and he saw guilt flash across her face.
Then her cousin took her hand and led her away. As they brushed past, Pei Huai’an looked back, only to see her hand still obediently held by that man.
Pei Huai’an’s heart completely sank.
Halfway through the banquet, after drinking some wine, he excused himself to hurry the dishes and slipped out of the private room, following the direction she’d gone earlier, until he found the small pavilion where she and her cousin were.
Through a beaded curtain, he could vaguely hear the sounds of conversation inside.
Pei Huai’an didn’t want to disturb them. He just stood quietly by a corridor pillar for a while, regretting that he’d confessed so soon. Perhaps after this, they couldn’t even be friends.
Just as he was about to leave, the beaded curtain moved, and the girl he missed dearly walked out from the pavilion.
Their gazes met, and she froze in place for a moment.
“Is this your answer?” he asked.
The young lady across from him nervously pinched her sleeve and looked at him timidly. “Are…are you angry?”
“I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at myself…”
Liang Qingluo walked up to him and explained, “My cousin is leaving the capital in two days. Mother asked me to show him around, but we haven’t arranged a marriage…”
“Then why did he hold your hand?”
“He…he didn’t mean to…”
“Then why did you let him?”
“I just… didn’t react in time…”
Her voice held a trace of coyness, grievance, and a bit of complaint for being misunderstood by him. Pei Huai’an was a little taken aback—was she… acting spoiled with him?
That knot of frustration in his chest seemed to dissipate in an instant.
Pei Huai’an forgave her immediately. Since she hadn’t arranged a marriage with that cousin, he still had a chance.
He took the hand that had just been held by the cousin and produced a handkerchief, gently wiping it bit by bit. “So, have you decided yet? How will you answer me?”
Liang Qingluo lowered her head and answered honestly, “I… haven’t decided yet.”
“Mm, there’s no rush.” Her delicate white hand was already perfectly clean, yet he wiped it over and over, until the back of her hand turned a little red before he finally stopped. “Go back and continue entertaining your relatives. Don’t drink any wine.”
Liang Qingluo caught the scent of wine on him. “Then why are you drinking?”
“My colleagues are all men…”
“But the Meishou wine here is really good…”
“Then just drink less, two or three cups at most.”
Liang Qingluo deliberately defied him. “Hmph, you can’t tell me what to do.”
His hand suddenly cupped her face, his fingertips softly caressing the gentle curve of her cheek. With his long lashes lowered, the gentleman—graceful as jade and bamboo—looked at her with an unending gentleness in his eyes. “Be good, drink a little less.”
Liang Qingluo’s cheeks grew hot under his gaze. “Got it.”
She turned around, cradling her burning cheeks as she returned to the pavilion. Lifting the beaded curtain, she saw her cousin watching her with a teasing grin, even mimicking Pei Huai’an’s tone and saying, “Be good, drink a little less…”
Liang Qingluo grew even more embarrassed. “Cousin, why are you eavesdropping on other people’s conversation?”
“How did I eavesdrop? You two didn’t even try to be quiet—I heard it fair and square…”
Could they really hear conversations from outside in this little pavilion?
If she’d known, she would have walked farther away to speak with Pei Huai’an.
“Cousin, you have to keep it a secret for me.” Liang Qingluo looked at him pleadingly. “You absolutely can’t tell Mother.”
“Why not? What if he’s just a playboy, toying with your affections? How could I let you be fooled by him?”
“He’s not!”
“Then who is he?”
She hesitated, then said, “He’s the seventh young master of the Grand Tutor’s residence, Assistant Editor of the Hanlin Academy—Pei Huai’an.”
“Oh? So it’s him.”
“Cousin, you know him?”
“His essays are excellent. I’ve read them.” Her cousin teased, “With such an outstanding man, no wonder you refuse to arrange a marriage with me for his sake.”
Liang Qingluo retorted, “It’s not like I like him.”
“If you didn’t like him, when I held your hand earlier—”
“I… I was just worried he’d misunderstand the relationship between us…”
“So it’s because you like him, isn’t it?”
“I…” Liang Qingluo wanted to protest, but seeing her cousin’s certain gaze, she hesitated. “Do I like him?”
How could that be?
She had always liked Qingjian. A month ago, when Qingjian rejected her again, she had cried so sadly.
But when her cousin held her hand just now, she felt very unwilling—not just because she was worried Pei Huai’an would misunderstand, but also because she didn’t want to be touched by another man…
Though her cousin was related by blood, he was still, in the end, an outsider. Men and women shouldn’t touch.
But Pei Huai’an was even more of an outsider to her. Why was it, then, that when he held her hand, hugged her, kissed her, or even guided her hand to touch his most private place, she never felt repulsed? Instead, she only felt flustered, shy, her heart racing…
When she saw Qingjian before, it seemed she felt the same way.
Why didn’t she realize it when it came to Pei Huai’an?
Maybe it was because he had always helped her pursue Qingjian, so she never considered that he might like her, nor did she think, after liking Qingjian for two years, that she could have feelings for another man.
But then again, if she liked Qingjian and also Pei Huai’an, wouldn’t that make her a fickle, inconstant girl?
So did she like Qingjian more, or Pei Huai’an more?
“Cousin, I don’t seem to see my own heart clearly.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have two people in my heart, but I don’t know which one I like more.”
Her cousin widened his eyes, curious. “Who’s the other one?”
“It’s definitely not you.”
He made a face and took a sip of wine, clearly rejected.
Liang Qingluo watched him drink, and a sudden thought flashed in her mind: people say drunken words reveal true feelings—if she got drunk, and someone asked who she really liked, wouldn’t she be able to find the real answer?
Thinking this, she snatched the wine pot from her cousin, poured herself a full cup, drained it in one gulp, then poured another and drank it down…
Across from her, her cousin counted each cup. When he saw her finish three in a row, he quickly stopped her. “Didn’t he say you should only drink two or three?”
“Cousin, do me a favor.”
“What is it?”
“When I get drunk, ask me a question.”
“What question?”
“Ask me, who do I really like?”
“Ah…” Her cousin realized her plan. “Alright, but don’t just drink—have some food too…”
Meanwhile, back at the banquet, Pei Huai’an, as a newcomer to the Hanlin Academy, could not avoid being urged to drink.
But in his current good mood, he didn’t mind. However, his tolerance wasn’t great, and he rarely drank so freely. After several rounds, the effects of the wine surged over him like a tide.
The night wind blew through the lattice window, carrying the clean fragrance of osmanthus and bringing a refreshing coolness. He turned his head, gazing at the street outside, just in time to see the general’s carriage leaving the tavern.
She was gone.
So soon—she must have listened to his advice and not drunk too much.
Her face, lovely whether coy or cross, appeared in his mind, and his heart softened unconsciously. A faint smile curved his lips.
After the banquet, Pei Huai’an was helped onto his carriage by a servant from the tavern.
At the front, his own driver looked at him, as if wanting to say something.
“What is it?” He rubbed his dizzy forehead and asked.
“Young master, there’s someone in the carriage.”
“Who?”
“She wouldn’t let me tell you…”
Oh?
Who had taken over his carriage and forbade the driver from telling him?
Pei Huai’an lifted the bamboo curtain. His gaze was hazy, but he looked inside the carriage.
Inside, the dim lantern light fell on a young girl’s peaceful and sweetly innocent sleeping face. She was slumped softly against the carriage wall, her hands resting unconsciously on her red pomegranate skirt, sleeping utterly defenseless.
Why was she here?
Pei Huai’an climbed into the carriage and sat down beside her. He could smell the wine on her—much stronger than on himself.
Didn’t she promise not to drink too much? How did she end up this drunk?
Pei Huai’an frowned, looking at this disobedient girl. “Qingluo, wake up…”
How could she sleep in his carriage?
He was drunk, too—and a drunk man could be dangerous.
“Qingluo, Qingluo…” His long fingers pinched her cheek. If he pinched too hard, he’d hurt her; too softly, she wouldn’t wake up.
Before his drunkenness could overwhelm his senses, she’d better wake up quickly.
The drunk girl’s lashes fluttered, reluctant and lazy. She finally opened her eyes slowly, her gaze hazed by a mist of wine, blinking in confusion a few times before recognizing the man before her.
When she saw it was him, she threw herself into his arms with a drunken giggle. “Pei Huai’an, I like you—Pei Huai’an…”