Chapter 3
Ailin
Ailin’s heart outpaced her head. As soon as she heard Fan Enze fall, her conscience tugged, compelling her to check for herself whether he was all right. He was barely more than a stranger, but the kindness he’d shown her was already etched into her memory.
His eyes widened when he saw her, registering recognition before confusion. As he hurried to push himself up from the gravel, Ailin noticed his red, scraped palms. He clasped his hands behind his back, hiding a torn sleeve in the process.
“You . . .” He paused when Meilin skidded into the courtyard behind Ailin.
His eyes flicked between the coarse, white mourning dresses both she and Meilin wore.
Her true identity was obvious now. She was not the maidservant she had pretended to be.
Would he confront her about her lie? “You two must be young ladies of the house. I apologize for disturbing you.”
His response surprised her. Fan Enze was pretending to meet her for the first time. He had promised to protect the secret of their chance encounter, and he was keeping his word, even in front of her sister.
“We’ve heard about you, Master Fan. Are you hurt?” Meilin asked smoothly. While Ailin had run straight past their nephew to reach Fan Enze, Meilin must have intercepted Heli and sent him with Ming-ming to get Mother. They would all be here soon.
Would Fan Enze keep protecting Ailin’s secret when the others arrived?
Ailin had told Mother and Ming-ming about her trip to Chen Manor after she returned, but she hadn’t told them about meeting Fan Enze.
Would they worry about her or judge her?
She didn’t know which possibility was worse.
Guilt stirred in her stomach like spoiled rice porridge.
She had reasons for doing what she did yesterday, but she felt embarrassed regardless.
“Are you hurt, Master Fan?” Meilin asked again, her tone light and relaxed.
Ailin was dismayed at how tense she was compared to her younger sister. She should have been more in control of the situation. Instead, she was staring at Fan Enze like a dumb melon, wondering what he thought of her yesterday versus today.
“I’m fine, Miss . . .” He paused as if waiting for an answer.
“I’m Duan Meilin, and this is my older sister, Duan Ailin.” Meilin pushed Ailin a step closer to the man she was trying to avoid.
“Grandma’s here!” Heli announced as he skipped into the yard with Mother and Ming-ming.
Ailin furtively took a step back. She was still too close to Fan Enze for comfort.
“You must be Master Fan.” Mother approached with a smile. Ming-ming followed behind, carrying a basket of medical supplies. “Is it all right if I take a look at your injuries?”
Fan Enze kept his hands behind his back. “I’m fine, ma’am. I don’t mean to bother you all.”
“It’s no trouble at all, I assure you,” Mother said with the confidence of a seasoned matron. She was always most comfortable when she was able to fix things, and—after raising three children, especially Ming-ming—treating light scrapes and bruises came naturally her. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
Ailin wondered how Fan Enze would react. She understood her mother’s need to be helpful, but would a near-stranger like him think she was nosy? Junyou didn’t seem to care, but Fulan had disliked Mother from the start.
Fan Enze expressed his thanks and followed Mother to the stone table in the corner of the yard, and the knot in Ailin’s heart untangled a bit.
Perhaps Fan Enze could be trusted to be kinder than his sister was.
Ailin felt at ease enough to wait with Meilin while Ming-ming attempted to rescue the kite from the persimmon tree.
“Is the youngest Miss Duan safe doing that?” Fan Enze asked, alarmed.
Ailin suddenly remembered that climbing trees was not normal for a girl from a scholarly family. Most young ladies had bound feet like Ailin and didn’t do such physically demanding activities, but climbing was so natural for Ming-ming that Ailin hardly thought twice about it.
“No need to worry. My youngest daughter is the one who harvests the persimmons every autumn,” Mother said proudly. She was always indulgent with Ming-ming, letting her do whatever she pleased, even if it wasn’t ladylike.
“That is a useful skill,” Fan Enze said in a neutral tone.
Ailin could not decipher if he was being polite or sincere. But either was a positive mark for his character. He was good-natured, and his conversation was lifting Mother’s spirits higher than they had been in days.
Ming-ming ascended the tree like a monkey, deftly weaving through the boughs until she reached the kite. The waxy green leaves and bright orange persimmons on the branches shook as she freed the crimson koi from its prison and jumped down from the tree with success.
Heli, ecstatic to have his kite back in one piece, hugged Ming-ming fiercely. “You’re the best, Auntie Ming-ming!”
Ming-ming patted his head.
With the task accomplished, it was time for the sisters to rejoin Mother, who was spreading ointment on Fan Enze’s palms. His scrapes glistened in the light. Ailin felt her pulse quicken as she neared the young man.
When would Fan Enze leave the courtyard? It was not his fault, but his presence made her nervous, especially after hearing that Fulan visited that morning to forbid her and her sisters from interacting with him. No good would come from countering Fulan’s wishes.
Lingering behind her sisters and Heli, however, Ailin could not miss the gratitude and respect Fan Enze showed toward her mother. As Mother sewed up the tear in his sleeve, his eyes shone like a puppy that had just been fed.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Madame Duan. I don’t remember the last time someone mended my clothes for me.”
“Did your mother not sew?” Mother asked as she tied off her stitching.
“She passed away when I was very young, and my stepmother sent me away to school soon after she married my father,” Fan Enze replied with neither bitterness nor fondness.
Mother’s sympathy, however, was clearly roused.
She was a stepmother who had tried her best to care for Junyou when he was young and had worried about his welfare after he left to pursue his official career.
Even when he was away, she sewed him a new set of clothes every year.
The thought of any child being forcibly separated from its family would naturally tear at her heart.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mother said. “What was your school life like? Was there no housekeeper or maid to take care of you there?”
“Teacher Pang was not wealthy enough to hire servants. He had two nieces, but they were as young as we were, so we pupils mostly took care of ourselves.”
“My dear child, I did not realize that you bore such difficulties in your youth.” Mother cradled Fan Enze’s hands with trembling fingers.
“But your life will get better once you marry Miss Mo, won’t it?” Ming-ming asked in a poor attempt to lighten the mood. “Sister-in-law said that your betrothed comes from a very well-off family.”
Fan Enze turned pale, an unexpected reaction for a young man being teased about his intended marriage, but his tone was collected when he replied, “There must have been a miscommunication. I am not betrothed to Miss Mo.”
Ailin immediately felt lighter. If Fan Enze was not actually betrothed, perhaps this interaction was less improper, even if Fulan wouldn’t be happy about it.
“Who is Miss Mo to you, then?” Meilin asked impertinently, already talking to Fan Enze as if he were an intimate acquaintance.
Perhaps surprised by the sudden and intense interest in his relationship status, Fan Enze fumbled for an answer.
His gaze traveled between Mother, Ming-ming, and Meilin.
Somehow, in the confusion, his eyes briefly caught Ailin’s before he glanced down.
The expression on his face struck a chord with Ailin because it was all too familiar.
They were kindred spirits in their susceptibility to embarrassment.
“My parents were friends with the Mo family when I was an infant, and they sometimes discussed the idea of uniting our families through marriage. However, I have never met Miss Mo, and no steps have been taken to formalize a betrothal.”
The song of late-season cicadas filled the gap in conversation as Fan Enze’s words sank in.
Ailin wondered if her family was as curious as she was regarding why Fulan emphasized her brother’s connection with Miss Mo so adamantly while he himself remained uninterested. And why was Fan Enze readily offering so much information about himself to near-strangers?
Heli broke the silence. “Uncle, since you’re not betrothed, can you marry one of my aunties and stay here forever?”
Ailin’s cheeks grew warm as Meilin and Ming-ming burst into laughter. She quickly hushed them. Heli’s words obviously stemmed from a childlike desire to keep his family members close. Laughing was inappropriate.
Fan Enze did not look amused either. The tight expression on his face almost looked like pain. Oddly, it hurt Ailin’s feelings. Certainly, the idea of him marrying her or one of her sisters was silly, but was Heli’s comment so bad as to be painful?
Mother defused the situation with a light laugh and an affectionate pat of Heli’s head. “Children say the funniest things. Don’t give it too much weight, Master Fan. You are my dear Heli’s uncle, so you will be family to us no matter what. You are always welcome here.”
A week later, Ailin sat beneath the persimmon tree with an idle paintbrush.
She wanted to paint the auspicious blue-and-white magpie perched on the branch before it flew away, but she was having no luck because Begonia stood next to her, chatting.
The maid was supposed to help her create eight pieces of art to pay back Uncle Chen’s loan, but Begonia was more in a mood to gossip than to grind ink.
“Have you heard what all the servants have been saying about Master Fan, miss?”