That night, A-Ji tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.
He lay on his stomach at the head of the bed. One moment, he kicked away the soft, thick quilts, complaining that the charcoal brazier made the room too hot; the next, he found the sound of wind and snow outside too noisy, disturbing his thoughts.
After all his fretting and irritation, the truth was that he was annoyed because Little Shu had left that afternoon without even eating dinner.
He had done everything Little Shu wanted. He had even agreed not to go sightseeing on the river and watch the snow. He had merely said that Little Shu had grown taller than him—how had that somehow made him angry?
When they were children, Little Shu had not said much, but his thoughts had still been fairly easy to understand. Now that he had grown up, it was becoming harder and harder to figure out what was going on in his mind.
A-Ji tossed and turned in bed, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. It was not until he heard the watchman announce that midnight had passed that drowsiness finally began to overtake him...
He found himself on a familiar yet somewhat strange street. Everything on the street was shrouded in gray. A-Ji knew what colors all these things ought to be, but everything he saw was gray without exception.
He was terribly anxious and hurried forward. Before long, even walking seemed too slow, so he broke into a run. Along the way, he collided with people and even crashed into a carriage. He searched frantically, but he did not know what he was looking for.
The air grew hotter and hotter, and his own body became scorching. The street suddenly transformed into a maze. He searched desperately through it, yet found nothing. He did not even know what he was searching for, which only made him more frantic, until heat enveloped his entire body.
After what felt like an eternity of dizziness and searing heat, a hazy figure finally appeared at the street corner. Only then did the urgency in his heart ease slightly.
A-Ji wanted to see the figure’s face clearly, but it seemed not to have one—only a shadow. The one thing it possessed was a scent he found extraordinarily familiar. Yet at that moment, no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember where he had smelled it before.
The shadow silently led the way. He followed until the two of them entered a house at the end of the street.
He embraced the mass of light. The scene was blurry, but the sensations were strikingly clear—especially that fragrance, which grew ever stronger, winding around the two of them in countless strands.
Suddenly, he felt weightless, and his leg jerked...
A-Ji abruptly opened his eyes. The room was already flooded with daylight.
He had fallen asleep the night before without even lowering the bed curtains. Snow had fallen all night, and the thick layer outside reflected the light into the room, making it exceptionally bright.
A-Ji stared blankly at the canopy overhead, as though he had not fully awakened from his dream. A faint blush still lingered on his cheeks. After a moment, his thoughts returned to him, and he tried to climb out of bed. But when he moved his legs, he realized that the space between them felt sticky.
He froze. Then he lifted the quilt and lowered his head to take a look. The next instant, he hurriedly pulled the quilt over himself.
A-Ji sat there in a daze for quite some time before remembering that he had to “destroy the evidence.” He quickly jumped out of bed, found a fresh set of clothes, and changed. Then, acting furtively, he called for a young servant and ordered him to dispose of his underclothes properly.
The servant looked utterly bewildered, but still followed A-Ji’s instructions.
A-Ji, not entirely reassured, reminded him, “Don’t let anyone else see them! Be careful when you clean everything up.”
“Young Master, stop fussing over your clothes. If you don’t leave for the academy soon, you’ll be late!”
A-Ji let out a cry of alarm and hurried outside.
After a night of wind and snow, the roads were clogged and travel was slow. The carriage was blocked halfway there and could not move an inch. A-Ji jumped down and continued on foot, trudging through the snow with each step sinking deep.
By the time he reached his grandfather’s residence, all the students were already seated in the classroom.
The instructor shot A-Ji a glare. Knowing that the roads had iced over after a night of snow and that traveling had been difficult, he scolded him a few times. In the end, however, he neither struck his palm nor made him stand as punishment, and simply allowed him to enter the classroom.
Qin Shu watched the youth scamper to his desk. The leather boots and the lower hem of his robe were soaked and filthy. He could not help wondering what A-Ji had been doing that morning.
He waited for the boy to pass him a note, as usual, muttering about how his shoes had gotten wet and why he had been late. Unexpectedly, A-Ji merely gripped his brush in silence. He did not cause any trouble, but neither did he listen attentively to the instructor’s lesson. In any case, he did not write a note.
Qin Shu’s brows drew together.
After class, he rarely took the initiative to walk over to A-Ji’s desk.
A-Ji was resting his chin in his hand, gazing distractedly at the snow drifting down outside the window. A scent like snow tea floated into his nose, and his entire body suddenly stiffened. He quickly turned around and found himself facing Qin Shu’s cool, calm eyes.
The familiar scent from his dream—the one he had been unable to identify—suddenly became clear. The faceless figure made of light and shadow seemed at last to have found its owner.
A-Ji opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.
As he looked at Qin Shu’s cold, handsome face, he felt both embarrassed and guilty. The tips of his ears turned completely red.
A-Ji sprang to his feet. “I—I need to use the privy.”
With that, he fled as though escaping for his life.
Qin Shu, who had remained silent the entire time, watched the retreating figure and frowned deeply.
By afternoon, the snow had stopped, and the sun had even come out.
The following day was a day of rest, so the students were at their happiest when class ended. Han Rongrong wanted to play a vigorous game of polo and was the first to ask Qin Shu to join them.
“Winter is so cold. If we aren’t bundled up, we’re hiding indoors by the fire, curled up like hibernating tortoises! We need to move around more and work up a sweat. Uncle Song says that if sweat is trapped inside the body, the toxins can’t be expelled, and over time, the body will grow weak. Brother Heir, come play polo with us!”
Qin Shu had to return to the palace today and would not normally have had time to fool around with them. He thought for a moment, then quickly glanced toward the other side of the screen. In the end, he gave a quiet assent.
Han Rongrong was so delighted she nearly jumped for joy. Once she had persuaded the heir apparent, Duan Ji would certainly be able to come along too.
When class ended, she tossed a little paper ball toward A-Ji.
The paper ball struck him squarely on the forehead before bouncing to the floor.
Han Rongrong’s eyes widened. Normally, the boy was as sly as a loach. It was rare enough for a paper ball to hit his head—hitting even the hem of his robe was practically impossible.
She hurried over. “What’s wrong with you?”
A-Ji was not annoyed. He picked up the paper ball. “What do you want?”
Han Rongrong lifted her chin. “The sky’s cleared up. Let’s go play polo!”
“Brother Heir is going too! Stop spacing out and hurry up!”
A-Ji instinctively glanced at Qin Shu, then quickly looked away again as though he had been caught doing something suspicious. He clenched his teeth in secret.
Having a dream like that was one thing, but how could he have dreamed about Little Shu in such a way...? He felt terribly guilty. He had no idea how he was supposed to face Little Shu, and he was also a little worried that if he stayed around him, he might have another strange dream that night.
He lowered his head and put his books into his case. “You all go ahead. The provincial examination is coming in spring, and I still have some schoolwork to ask Grandfather about.”
Han Rongrong stared at him as though he had just said something absurd. “Are you all right? Tomorrow is a day of rest, and today is such a fine day. You’re actually going to ask Lord Song about your studies?”
A-Ji did not argue. He simply continued with what he was doing.
“Brother Heir, look at him!”
Han Rongrong ran over to Little Shu. “Go on, tell him he can go!”
Qin Shu glanced at A-Ji, but before he could say a word, he had already gathered up his book chest. “I’m leaving first.”
With that, he truly did not linger for even a moment. He simply left without so much as looking at him.
Qin Shu stood motionless where he was. Rongrong said a few more things, but he did not hear a single word. He did not even notice when the girl stamped her foot and walked away.
Was he angry because Qin Shu had refused to let him go see the snow yesterday?
On the way back to the palace, Qin Shu’s thoughts were elsewhere. He kept wondering whether he had been too strict with A-Ji…
After the academy’s break ended, they studied for a few more days before the long New Year holiday arrived.
During the New Year season, the capital was livelier than ever. For high-ranking families like the Song and Duan households, the entire first month was barely long enough to visit all their relatives and friends. Everywhere was filled with festive bustle.
Listening to the firecrackers roaring so loudly that they seemed capable of shaking the gates off their hinges, watching the dazzling fireworks in the night sky and the flower lanterns of every description lining the streets, A-Ji—who had always loved a good spectacle—would normally have dragged Qin Shu out to run wild with him long ago.
During the New Year festivities, he missed Qin Shu, but he did not dare let himself miss him too much, much less go looking for him.
After that absurd incident, they had gotten into trouble several more times in succession, and A-Ji could barely bear to remain at the academy.
At last, the long holiday arrived. He no longer had to face Little Shu, which ought to have brought him some peace. Yet his heart felt more unsettled than ever.
A while ago, he had stopped pestering Little Shu. Qin Shu had even come looking for him twice, but A-Ji had used studying as an excuse to avoid him. After that, whether Qin Shu had been too busy with palace banquets or for some other reason, he never came to seek him out again.
A-Ji slumped over a chair, sighing miserably, with no idea how to break the deadlock.
Han Rongrong came running over with several bright-red Kongming lanterns in her hands. “Why are you looking so glum? Look at yourself. Whatever’s troubling you, write it on a lantern and send it far, far away.”
A-Ji hesitated for a moment, then pulled his cloak over his shoulders. “Let’s go!”
The two of them carried the Kongming lanterns out together, intending to release them outside.
They did not know that as soon as they had left the general’s residence, Qin Shu arrived.
Watching the two figures walking away in the snow-covered street, chatting and laughing together, Qin Shu stood there for a long while.
“Let’s go back.”
After returning from releasing the lanterns, A-Ji felt much more cheerful. Not wanting to disregard Little Shu’s advice from before, he spent the entire first month of the year without going out to amuse himself. Instead, he stayed behind closed doors in the courtyard and devoted himself to his studies.
The examination held that February was the provincial examination. Ordinarily, the provincial examination was held in the eighth or ninth month, but that year the emperor had established an additional examination to celebrate the empress dowager’s grand birthday, so the schedule had been moved forward.
The examination hall was bitterly cold in February. A-Ji wrote furiously, his fingers red with cold, and finished answering every question.
On the day he left the examination hall, his whole family came to receive him. Even his father had made a special trip back from the military camp. A-Ji looked around outside the examination hall, but did not see the person he had been thinking of. He lowered his head and climbed into the carriage, refusing to say a word once he was inside.
His family assumed that several days of hardship had exhausted him, and that perhaps he had not performed well. They did not question him further.
They had all witnessed the boy’s diligence during the New Year holiday. Even if he had not done well, no one would blame him.
Who could have imagined that when the results were posted, the boy would actually place first?
At last, a hint of a smile appeared on A-Ji’s face. But even then, he still did not get to see Little Shu.
After hesitating several times, he took the official document announcing his success, refused the carriage, and rode straight to the heir apparent’s residence.
