Chapter One: Lu Ying

Spring was deepening, and the green that spread across the land was turning richer and darker. Lu Ying kicked at her wooden clogs, using the motion to rid them of the mud collected during her journey. As she glimpsed a blossoming peach tree not far to her left, her steps quickened.

At fifteen, Lu Ying’s figure had already taken on the graceful lines of a maiden. Although years of malnutrition had left her complexion pale with a bluish tinge, her features were delicate and attractive, and a faint indifference lingered in her expression. Even dressed in sackcloth and straw sandals, she did not resemble an ordinary village girl.

Soon, a Daoist temple came into view, the words "Xuan Yuan Temple" boldly inscribed above the entrance.

Squinting up at the sun, Lu Ying thought to herself, “I've made it just in time!” With a sigh of relief, she hurried her pace.

As Lu Ying approached the temple in quick, small steps, she did not notice that under a cluster of pear trees by the stone steps to the left—no more than two hundred paces away—a young man and woman had ceased their conversation and turned to look in her direction.

After watching her for a moment, the young woman, elegantly dressed in brocade, her face lightly powdered, smiled with pursed lips and said to the man beside her, “Zeng Lang, your Ayin has arrived.”

Her words were spoken slowly, the clear tone lending her an air of refined elegance that was particularly striking in this early Eastern Han era, famous for its scholarly atmosphere and cultured ways. Yet beneath the graceful manner, a trace of jealousy colored her voice.

Upon hearing this, Zeng Lang turned to look at her. Gazing seriously at the young woman, he spoke in a low, gentle voice, “Ayin, why say such things? You should know, I care only for you now.” But as he glanced in the direction of Lu Ying, who was searching for someone with her head lifted, an unexplainable restlessness and guilt stirred within him.

He and Lu Ying had known each other since childhood. Rumors once whispered that Lu Ying’s father came from a noble background, yet neighbors only saw a bookish, somewhat absent-minded man, frail and sickly, who died when Lu Ying was seven. Her mother, ever since giving birth to Lu Ying’s younger brother, had also suffered poor health.

Zeng Lang’s family lived next door. Since childhood, Lu Ying had been a beauty in the making—gentle, sensible, and beloved by Zeng Lang’s parents. When the two were five, their parents had arranged a betrothal between them.

But when Lu Ying was ten, her mother too passed away, leaving the siblings to be taken in by their maternal grandfather. Meanwhile, Zeng Lang’s father had distinguished himself in battle, becoming a cavalry commander. Though not wealthy, their circumstances were far better than those of Lu Ying and her brother, who now lived dependent on others. Especially recently, as his father had caught the eye of an influential patron and might soon be promoted again.

As his family’s fortunes improved, Zeng Lang’s mother grew dissatisfied with the daughter-in-law chosen long ago. Zeng Lang himself, as the wedding approached, felt a growing agitation—particularly after meeting Lu Ying’s close friend and fifth cousin.

Compared with this cousin, always exquisitely dressed, with lavish clothing and the generous dowry prepared by her affluent parents—and, moreover, showing him clear affection—Lu Ying, poor and with nothing to her name, seemed little more than a burden. The thought left Zeng Lang increasingly discontent.

With this in mind, he looked again at Ayin, thinking, “Ayin’s family is wealthy, and she’s beautiful. Only she is truly worthy of me. As for Aying, if I can have her body, she’ll have nowhere else to go and will have to accept whatever arrangement I make. I’ll prepare a generous bride price and welcome her formally—even if as a concubine, it won’t be a disgrace.”

At that moment, Lu Ying finally spotted the two of them. She gave a gentle smile, a rare warmth flickering in her usually cool eyes. Hastily lifting her skirt, she ran over, calling out joyfully to the young woman, “Fifth Cousin!”

As she drew near, Lu Ying turned and, her cheeks flushed, glanced softly and happily at the tall, handsome Zeng Lang, then bowed gracefully and whispered, “Zeng Lang…”

Seeing Lu Ying lower her head, Ayin hurried forward, taking her hands with a playful laugh. “Ay Ying, Ay Ying, as soon as I saw Zeng Lang here, I guessed you’d show up. Caught you this time!” Her mischievous tone made Lu Ying blush to the tips of her ears.

In the spring sunlight, the two girls stood hand in hand, one with delicate skin, the other roughened by labor. Zeng Lang glanced at them, then looked away.

Noticing Lu Ying’s discomfort, Ayin continued cheerfully, “Zeng Lang was just talking about you, saying how beautiful, kind, and capable you are.” As she teased, Lu Ying’s head sank lower, unaware that at that moment, her most trusted cousin was glaring fiercely at Zeng Lang, who had been gazing at Lu Ying with tenderness. Caught by her look, Zeng Lang quickly hid any sign of affection, turning away with a blank expression as if to prove his innocence.

Ayin withdrew her gaze, laughing again as she sashayed to Lu Ying’s right. “Still shy? Go on, go to your beloved.” With that, she gave Lu Ying a hearty shove toward Zeng Lang.

The push was too forceful. Caught off guard, Lu Ying stumbled to the left. Recent spring rains had left the stone steps slick with fresh moss, and her foot slipped. With a cry, she toppled backward, tumbling down six or seven steps like a rolling ball. With a terrible thud, the back of her head struck the stone at the edge, and her body twisted before falling still. A bright red pool of blood rapidly spread across the stone, dripping down the steps…

The accident happened in an instant. Zeng Lang only turned around after hearing her cry. His face went pale as he stumbled down to her side, gathering her in his arms, his tunic quickly soaked with blood.

While he was still frozen with shock, Ayin screamed and rushed over, her voice trembling with tears, “How is she? Is Aying all right?”

She called several times, but Zeng Lang seemed dazed. She quickly pushed him, urging, “Go, go get a doctor!”

At the same time, Ayin’s eyes fixed on Lu Ying’s face, and inwardly she cursed—why couldn’t she have struck her face instead?

Prompted by Ayin, Zeng Lang came to his senses. “Yes, yes, get a doctor, hurry!” He lifted Lu Ying and dashed down the mountain.

…

When Lu Ying awoke again, it was already evening. The familiar scent of medicine filled the tiny wooden house she called home.

She lay on her back, blinking up at the ceiling. Her head still throbbed with pain, but strangely, the very air seemed clearer and fresher, as if something within her had awakened, as if the world itself had been washed clean—every particle of dust and fleck of light now sharp and distinct.

Slowly turning her head, Lu Ying surveyed her surroundings. After a long moment, she struggled upright, pushing aside the rough linen quilt and reaching up to touch the back of her head.

It was wrapped in bandages, swollen and tender to the touch. With a hiss of pain, the events of the morning came flooding back, and she frowned slightly.

Perhaps hearing movement, footsteps approached, and soon a boy of thirteen or fourteen appeared. He bore a strong resemblance to Lu Ying, with clear, handsome features, though he was painfully thin. Holding a bowl of medicine, he frowned at her as she sat up. “You’re awake?” His tone was tinged with impatience.

After saying this, the boy saw Lu Ying still staring at him, and his frown deepened. Embarrassed, he snapped, “Why are you staring at me?”

But Lu Ying continued to study him, until he huffed and shoved the bowl into her hands, turning to leave. Only then did she say softly, “A Yuan, your eyes are red—not from smoke, but from crying recently. You were worried about me, weren’t you? When you first saw me awake, the corners of your mouth lifted—you were glad to see me well.”

After a pause, she added, “Also, did Zeng Lang try to give you money, but you refused? Your hand kept brushing your sleeve pocket just now. Don’t worry, I’m completely fine now. I don’t need the medicine.”

Her words came slowly, not for effect, but because she was searching for the right way to express this new sensation. The moment she saw A Yuan, she could read his feelings as clearly as if she’d witnessed them herself.

Lu Yuan turned slowly, staring at his sister in astonishment. He knew her well—since their parents’ deaths, she had borne the burden of their lives alone. The hardships, the petty cruelties from some in their grandfather’s house, had left her little time or energy to notice the thoughts of others, much less display such keen perception.

After a long silence, Lu Yuan frowned and asked, “Sister, what’s happened to you?”

“I’m fine,” Lu Ying replied with a smile. She threw off the quilt and slipped on her clogs. “Truly, I am very well.”

Yes, she truly was. This feeling of clarity, of seeing the world and people’s hearts so plainly, was wonderful.

Smiling at her still-worried brother, Lu Ying pushed open the rickety door and stepped into the courtyard.

Outside, peach blossoms were in full bloom, butterflies fluttering through the air. The rosy and white petals transformed the world into a spectacle of brightness and color—brilliant, transparent, and clear. This newfound sharpness, this ability to see right and wrong without confusion, was a gift beyond words. It was truly, truly wonderful.