Just as the feelings between Gong Ze and Lu Youling were gradually warming up, two days later, the village chief knocked on the Gong family’s door.
“The rundown house I promised to fix up for that little girl is ready,” he said. “The furniture is a bit old and worn, but at least it won’t leak rain or wind. Pick a day and have her move in as soon as possible. Her staying at your place like this just isn’t right.”
The village chief had recently heard some gossip about Gong Ze and the little girl. He smoked his Chinese tobacco worriedly and hinted to Gong Ze, “After all, she’s a young woman, and she was brought in to perform the chongxi for your brother. Even if she never actually married into the family, the situation is still awkward. And you’re a young, unmarried man.”
“Gong Er, do you understand what your uncle is saying?”
Gong Ze was silent for a moment. The hesitant look on his face made the village chief think to himself, Oh no—the rumors in the village might not be entirely false. Gong Er clearly has feelings for that girl.
If Gong Er had taken a liking to some other girl, the village chief would have been happy for him. But the one Gong Er had taken a liking to was the girl who had nearly become his elder brother’s chongxi bride.
It would always look bad. People would talk.
The village chief felt sorry for Gong Er. Not only was Gong Er from the wealthiest family in the village, but unlike the eldest Gong son—who had wasted his life and died of a shameful disease—Gong Er was smart, had been educated in the capital, was polite, and was an intellectual. The village chief had a much higher opinion of him.
That girl, though delicate and pretty, would always be an obstacle when it came to status.
Because she had been a chongxi bride—even if the marriage was never completed—if she married someone else in the future, her husband’s family might hold it against her or consider it taboo.
On top of that, she had been a little beggar with no family on her side…
The village chief sighed and advised, “Gong Er, you’re a good man. Your uncle isn’t some stubborn old fool. But she… she’s not good for your future. You’ve learned so much—there’s no way you’ll waste away in a little place like Fenshan Village forever. But the big cities are even more particular than we are here. Marrying her would affect your prospects.”
“You need to think carefully. In the future, you might even marry a wealthy young lady from the capital. Why do you have to look for a wife here?”
The village chief’s words were not without reason.
Gong Ze looked as if the words had struck a nerve. His face paled slightly. He pressed his lips together, forced a faint smile, and said softly to the village chief, “Thank you, Uncle. I understand. I’ll think about it.”
The village chief took a satisfied puff of his pipe. Seeing that Gong Ze had gone pale, he knew this good young man had likely developed real feelings for the girl. He comforted him pityingly, “Try to see the bright side. You might meet someone you like even more in the future. Don’t bother picking a special day—I think you should have the girl move out this afternoon. It’s for her own good, too. You know how much gossip follows a widow. The way things are, you’ll only get her bullied.”
“Sigh. The sooner you cut it off, the cleaner it’ll be.”
Lu Youling heard that the village chief had come to see Gong Ze. Uneasy, he put down his broom and ran all the way to Gong Ze’s courtyard. Before he even entered, he heard the village chief inside trying to persuade Gong Ze.
Lu Youling felt as if the blood in his entire body had reversed course, freezing him from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
His heart, which had been pounding with unease, seemed to topple from a crumbling platform and fall with a splash into an abyss.
Lu Youling signaled Shuisheng to stay quiet. Under Shuisheng’s conflicted, sympathetic gaze, he stood outside the thick fabric curtain and listened, his mind completely blank.
A jumble of thoughts surged up, but he couldn’t seem to grasp any of them. When the village chief came out, he finally snapped back to reality, stiffly pulling his legs and feet to hide to the side.
After Gong Ze walked the village chief to the gate and returned to his courtyard, he saw Lu Youling standing thin and straight in the middle of the yard. The young man glanced at him with red-rimmed eyes, then silently lowered his head.
“I…” Lu Youling started to speak, but as soon as he uttered the first syllable, he realized how terribly hoarse his voice had become.
He quickly fought back his choking emotions and said in a small voice, his head still bowed, “…When should I move?”
Gong Ze’s heart ached as well. He quietly watched Lu Youling, who was struggling to hold back his tears. “You heard everything?”
Lu Youling: “…Yeah.”
Gong Ze was silent for a moment, then slowly walked toward him.
The two stood close together, so near that it felt as if they were embracing—yet they weren’t.
Shuisheng, sensing the atmosphere, wisely left the courtyard and went to keep watch outside the wall.
When the yard was empty except for the two of them, Lu Youling finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. He raised a hand and wiped his eyes.
Don’t cry, he scolded himself. What’s there to cry about? What do you have to be wronged about? Everything the village chief said was true.
I have no connections, no status. Even the identity of the girl he’s been looking after is just a man pretending. Why should I expect someone as outstanding as Gong Ze to be with me?
Besides, the village chief was right—I almost married Gong Ze’s elder brother. I didn’t care much about it before, but in this era, it would cause problems for Gong Ze.
If Gong Ze got together with me, how many people would gossip about him?
Knowing that Gong Ze has feelings for me too—shouldn’t that be enough?
Gong Ze, who is so restrained and proper, didn’t deny to the village chief that he had feelings for me, his “little sister-in-law.” Lu Youling felt he should be satisfied.
But why…
Why is it that even though I understand all the logic, I still feel so much pain?
“Look at me… I’d forgotten about all that too…” Lu Youling forced a faint smile, pretending to be lighthearted. “I can leave anytime. I—”
Gong Ze closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Lu Youling: …
He didn’t dare look up at the person in front of him. He was afraid that if he met Gong Ze’s eyes, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his tears any longer.
And Gong Ze said softly, “…I’ll have Shuisheng pack your things. I’ll take you to your new home this afternoon.”
Their unspoken, ambiguous feelings—the budding affection between them—had finally come to an end.
Lu Youling cried after all.
Gong Ze lowered his gaze, his eyes filled with restrained pain as he watched the person he loved shed tears.
Their distance was so close that whoever reached out first could have embraced the other, could have laid bare all the hidden, surging emotions. But neither of them did.
Gong Ze wanted to hold him. Wanted to wipe his tears away. But he couldn’t.
That was his almost-sister-in-law!
The village chief’s words had stabbed Gong Ze’s heart like knives.
He could ignore all the gentlemanly etiquette he had learned over the years and embrace Lu Youling.
But what then?
If he married the woman who had been meant for his brother, people might just tease him or mock him a little. But Lu Youling, as a young woman, might be treated poorly because of him. He would face unfair discrimination and might not be able to continue living in Fenshan Village.
He might even be bullied because of their relationship—called shameless, called a “broken shoe”…
In his childhood, Gong Ze had seen a widow in Fenshan Village whose husband had died years ago. After being widowed for many years, people threw filth on her doorstep, accused her of seducing other women’s husbands, and spread nasty rumors about her.
Rogues had climbed over her courtyard wall trying to take advantage of her. They would corner her when she passed by.
In the end, that poor, unfortunate widow couldn’t bear it anymore and hanged herself.
Gong Ze didn’t want Lu Youling to suffer the same fate…
Lu Youling stood in the courtyard and cried for a long time.
That silk handkerchief embroidered with the little deer was soaked through with tears, the stain spreading like bitterness.
And for as long as Lu Youling cried, Gong Ze stood with him.
They stood so close that their body heat could pass between them—yet they couldn’t share their feelings. Both Gong Ze and Lu Youling held back with excruciating restraint.
Like a dam filled to the brim, about to burst.
Neither dared to make that one small move that would turn all the restraint into madness.
Like the stifling stillness before a thunderstorm.
After the weight of a single raindrop comes the devastating explosion of a downpour.
…
The Gong family did not have lunch. In those days, most families ate only one or two meals a day; lunch was reserved only for days when they were doing heavy farm labor.
But Gong Ze took Lu Youling to the kitchen. Ignoring the curious and probing gazes of the servants, he rolled up his sleeves, found some white flour, and began mixing dough and kneading it. He made a bowl of noodles for Lu Youling, and fried an egg to place on top.
Neither of them spoke throughout this process.
There was a saying: “Long noodles for arrivals, short dumplings for departures.” It meant that when someone in the family was going on a long journey, you made dumplings, and you only saw them off to the gate to avoid the pain of separation, so no one would be reluctant to leave.
But long noodles were for welcoming someone back—it meant you missed the traveling family member so much that you couldn’t wait for them to arrive home and would go far out to meet them.
Yet Gong Ze had made noodles.
In Lu Youling’s hometown in his previous life, there was such a tradition. So when Gong Ze made him a bowl of noodles, he understood what Gong Ze meant—that Gong Ze didn’t want him to leave either, that he too couldn’t bear the separation.
As he picked up the bowl, the steam from the hot noodle soup made Lu Youling’s already tear-dried eyes sting again. Clear drops fell one by one into the broth.
Gong Ze held back his own sadness and deliberately tried to cheer him up with a joke: “Stop crying, or the noodles will get too salty.”
Lu Youling managed a small smile, then lowered his head again with a sob and ate the noodles, one bite at a time.
But noodles always get eaten eventually.
No matter how much they didn’t want to part, separation was inevitable.
As Gong Ze led Lu Youling away from the Gong residence, several servants secretly hid around the corner to watch. The old woman, who had been stifled and agitated for so long, also appeared. With a triumphant, deliberately loud voice, she said, “The jinx is finally gone,” watching with satisfaction as the pair of illicit lovebirds were separated.
She ordered a servant woman to buy firecrackers to chase away the bad luck.
But a sharp, frowning glance from Gong Ze silenced her. She pursed her lips and dared not say another word.
On the road, villagers of Fenshan Village passed by. They looked at the two with gossip gleaming in their eyes and greeted Gong Er with smirking smiles. “Gong Er, where are you off to? And this little girl, she’s that one, isn’t she…?”
Lu Youling walked with his head down, utterly dejected. Gong Ze forced a faint smile and replied, “Yes, I’m taking her to her new home.”
“Oh, oh, that’s good. So she’ll be settling down here in Fenshan Village from now on?”
“Yes…”
As soon as they walked away, the villager excitedly gesticulated to his companion.
“Those two… you know, right?”
“Know about it? Everyone in Fenshan Village knows…”
The men snickered, sharing knowing glances.
Shuisheng carried Lu Youling’s luggage and walked behind them, conflicted. He could see his Second Master’s sadness and Miss Lu’s reluctance to part.
Shuisheng was sharp. He understood that the two liked each other but couldn’t be together.
A feeling of melancholy rose in his heart as well.
Lu Youling’s little house was located pretty far away, at the east end of the village. Few people lived there. There were no stone paths—only dirt roads—and beside the road lay a stretch of abandoned fields.
The original owner of the house had been a solitary old man whose wife and children had all passed away. After he died, the place became even more desolate.
Even after repairs, the house was still dilapidated.
Patches of fresh, yellow mud were splattered here and there, clearly showing where it had been fixed up. The small windows let in hardly any light and still let the wind through. The courtyard wall was ridiculously low—only half the height of the gate—so low that even a child could easily climb over it.
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