Chapter 83 -
Chapter 83: Chapter
Wenzhe did not return to his study. Instead, he walked aimlessly through the estate’s sprawling gardens, his steps heavy and his mind drifting backward in time.
Of everyone in the Xi family, Wenzhe was perhaps the one most deeply scarred by Mingyu’s relentless illness. The memories of how it all began still haunted him, locked away behind his cold, stoic military exterior.
It had happened two years ago, right after Wenzhe returned from the brutal northern borders. He had been fighting in a relentless war, leading men into blood-soaked battlefields. Eager to see his family, he had ridden night and day to make it back to the capital earlier than expected. He wanted, more than anything, to surprise his little brother on his fifth birthday.
He could still vividly remember the excitement he had felt as he snuck into the estate, carrying a small, hand-carved wooden toy sword he had bought for the boy.
But there was no birthday celebration.
Instead, he had walked into a nightmare. That very morning, Mingyu’s fragile illness had taken a sudden, violent turn for the worse. The boy’s lungs had seized, his face turning a terrifying shade of blue as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come.
Wenzhe remembered the sheer panic that had seized the household. Without wasting a single second on carriage arrangements, Wenzhe had scooped his tiny, suffocating brother into his arms. He had run straight out of his quarters holding the boy tightly against his chest, sprinting to the imperial physicians. He had roared at the doctors to save him, his voice cracking with a desperation he had never known.
Wenzhe was a general. He had fought in dozens of brutal battles, stood knee-deep in mud and blood, and watched his most trusted comrades-in-arms die agonizing deaths right before his eyes. He had faced down charging cavalry and enemy blades without ever flinching.
But that day, carrying his tiny, breathless brother in his arms, was hands-down the most terrifying day of his entire life. The battlefield had taught him how to kill, but it had left him completely powerless to save the one person who mattered most.
Standing in the shadow of the courtyard now, Wenzhe clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
Mingyu’s fragile life was a treasure Wenzhe would burn the world to protect. The thought of leaving that precious life in the hands of the unpredictable, arrogant Su Yueqing made his chest tighten with a familiar, suffocating fear.
....
The afternoon sun began its slow descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the quiet corners of the Xi estate.
In her private courtyard, Xi Lanyin stood by her wooden shelves, carefully watering her delicate potted orchids. The gentle splash of water and the rustle of the leaves offered her a brief moment of peace, but her mind was still in utter chaos. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still see Zi Han’s handsome, stoic face on the stone bridge, and she could still hear the painful, clinical coldness of his voice.
"If accompanying me causes you this much discomfort... I have no intention of inconveniencing you."
The memory made her chest tighten with a sharp, lingering ache. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the thought, when the hurried footsteps of her personal maid shattered the silence.
"Eldest Young Miss! Eldest Young Miss!" the maid gasped, running into the courtyard and bowing quickly to catch her breath. "You... you have a guest! He is waiting right now at the side reception hall!"
Lanyin didn’t turn around, forcing herself to keep her hand steady as she tilted the wooden watering ladle over another orchid. "A guest? For me? Did Qianqian or Gu Yue invite someone over?"
"No, Miss! He asked for you specifically!" the maid squeaked, her eyes wide with frantic excitement. "It is Master Zi Han! The Prime Minister’s son!"
The wooden ladle slipped from Lanyin’s fingers, clattering loudly against the stone floor. Water splashed over her silk slippers, but she didn’t even feel it. She spun around, her heart leaping straight into her throat, her face instantly turning a bright, flustered pink.
"Zi... Master Zi Han?" Lanyin stammered, her voice shaking as she instinctively reached up to smooth down her hair. "H-Here? Now?"
"Yes, Miss! He is waiting right now!"
Lanyin tried to force her frantic breathing to slow down, smoothing out the folds of her pale green hanfu. "Let... let him in. Guide him to the courtyard pavilion. And quickly prepare some of our finest white tea."
"Yes, Miss!" The maid bowed and scrambled away to fetch the guest.
Once the maid was out of sight, Lanyin pressed her cool hands against her burning cheeks, her thoughts running absolutely wild.
’Why is he here?!’ her mind screamed in absolute panic. ’The Prime Minister’s son... the most brilliant, eligible scholar in the capital, coming to visit me after I ran away from him in tears? Did he come to formally rescind the invitation? Is he going to tell me how dramatic and foolish I was on the bridge? Or...’
Before she could finish her thought, a tall, elegant figure stepped through the arched moon gate of her private courtyard.
It was Zi Han. He wore a crisp, midnight-blue scholar’s robe, his hair immaculately tied back with a simple silver hairpin. He looked as breathtakingly refined as ever, but as he stepped into the courtyard, Lanyin noticed something unusual. His shoulders were incredibly tense, and his hands were clasped tightly in front of him.
As he caught sight of her standing by her orchids, he stopped. For a fleeting second, the brilliant young scholar who could debate imperial court policies looked completely lost.
"Young Lady Xi," Zi Han spoke, his voice unusually quiet. He stepped forward and bowed, deeper and more formally than was strictly necessary for a casual visit. "Forgive my unannounced intrusion into your courtyard."
Lanyin swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing her voice to remain steady. She curtseyed gracefully, keeping her eyes slightly lowered to avoid his intense gaze. "Master Zi. To what do I owe the honor of your visit? I thought... after our last conversation, you would have no desire to speak with me."
Zi Han’s tensed shoulders stiffened further. The memory of his mother’s firm words from the previous night echoed sharply in his mind: "Show her your warmth, not your vocabulary. Tell her clearly that you want her by your side, and don’t let her run away until she hears it."
He took a deep breath, stepping closer until only a few paces separated them.
"I came because of what happened on the bridge," Zi Han admitted, his voice dropping to a lower, earnest register. "And I came to apologize. My behavior that evening was... incredibly foolish."
Lanyin’s head snapped up in surprise. She had expected him to offer a polite, logical excuse, or perhaps a message passed through their mothers. She never expected the proud, blunt Prime Minister’s son to stand in her garden and call himself foolish.
"I am a man of books, Lanyin," Zi Han continued, using her name directly for the first time, which sent a shiver of warmth straight down her spine. "I spent my life training my mind to analyze facts, to seek rational paths, and to offer people honorable ways out of situations they might find taxing. But when I saw you looking so overwhelmed at the banquet, my logic failed me entirely."
He looked directly into her eyes, his dark gaze filled with a vulnerability he had never shown to anyone else.
"When I asked if you wanted to rescind the invitation, I did not say it because I didn’t want to go with you. I said it because I was terrified that I was forcing you into a position of discomfort. I thought I was being considerate. But instead, I was a coward who hid behind clinical words because I was too proud to admit the truth."
Lanyin’s breath caught. "The truth?" she whispered.
"The truth is," Zi Han said, his ears flushing a deep, unmistakable crimson, though he refused to look away, "I have wanted to accompany you to the Governor’s gathering since the moment my mother first mentioned it. I do not care for the banquet, nor do I care for the other guests. I only care to go because... because I want to spend the evening by your side."
He stepped even closer, his hands finally relaxing as he reached out slightly, though he kept a respectful distance.
"I was clumsy, and my words were cold. I deeply regret causing you pain, Lanyin. I do not ask for your immediate forgiveness, but I ask that you allow me the chance to prove my sincerity. Will you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the Youth Banquet? Not because of our families, and not out of obligation.. but because I am asking you, from my heart."
Lanyin stood completely frozen, her watering ladle entirely forgotten as she stared at the young scholar.
The cold, clinical magistrate of the stone bridge was completely gone. In his place stood a young man, flushed and anxious, waiting for her answer with bated breath.
A soft, genuine smile finally broke through Lanyin’s guarded expression, her cheeks matching the pink of the plum blossoms.