In a haze of panic, I hatched a reckless plan. Only one way to kill Yan Ming’s longing completely.
I would elope with him.
If I left with him, then perhaps sun could return to sun, moon to moon, and wild grass could surrender itself to the wilderness again.
That night, storm clouds gathered, thunder grumbling from the heavens.
I tidied Shen Weilin’s books one last time, hands shaking with final duty. He sat by the window, for once not reading, simply watching me with unreadable eyes. Lightning forked behind him in brilliant flashes.
I could not meet his gaze. I stacked his pages neatly, committing his silhouette to memory, fearing I might never see him again.
At last, I reached for the pendant he had given me, hoping to return it.
But his voice broke the silence, lower than usual, weighted with something trembling and restrained.
"What I’ve given you, I won’t take back."
His eyes, when they met mine, seemed to hold entire worlds I could not decipher. He rose, walked toward me, stood close enough that I felt the storm hum between us.
"Don’t go out tonight," he said quietly. "The weather is dangerous."
I swallowed down emotion and mumbled agreement, but turned away anyway, drawing the door open.
Suddenly his hand gripped mine, as if holding back a thousand words.
But before he could speak, my mother’s voice called from the hall, "Young Master, is Lanying in there? Yan Ming is waiting for her."
I shook free, guilty, cowardly. When the door shut behind me, I dared a single glance back.
Shen Weilin stood in the lamplight, his eyes cast downward, loneliness etched across his posture like shadow.
And so I left. I ran into the rain.
The storm was merciless. Rain poured as if heaven itself tried to wash us from the earth. Yan Ming shielded my head with his jacket, shouting above the roar, "Hold on to me, don’t fall."
We stumbled through mud, slipping and clutching each other. We didn’t speak of Shen Weilin or Zhao Yulan. For that one wild hour, we pretended the world belonged only to us and our future.
But the storm swelled too fierce. The mountainside gave way, soil and roots tearing loose in a landslide. Our path collapsed.
Yan Ming pushed me toward a higher ledge, but even together we could go no farther. Shivering, we hunched beneath the torrents, waiting for the storm to break.
His voice, hoarse with cold, trembled, "Do you think we’ll die here? If I had known if this was the end, I would have...."
My chest ached with regret. "Forgive me. I was foolish. There must have been a better way."
His lips were blue, yet still, he lifted a shaking hand to pat my head gently. "You’re right. Yulan was meant for the sky. I was selfish to drag her down. Lanying, tell me one thing. The one you truly love is it Shen Weilin?"
My breath caught. He knew.
I turned and met his gaze. There was no judgment only sorrow and tenderness.
"Yes," I whispered. "From the first moment I saw him. He is my sun, my moon, my stars, my god. But he is also untouchable, beyond what I can hope for. I want him happy, even if happiness means he belongs to someone else. Just as you want Yulan happy."
Yan Ming’s lips curved faintly. "At least your eyes have wisdom. Shen Weilin is a very, very good man. Our Lanying has fine taste."
We held each other beneath the storm as if conceding ourselves to fate.
What we didn’t expect was to see torchlight cut through the downpour.
Shen Weilin and Zhao Yulan had come searching.
Our elopement, the desperate rebellion, sank into failure.
"What foolish children you are," Madam Shen scolded the two of us later, half angry, half bewildered. "If you wished to marry, why not say so? Who was trying to separate you that you must run away like this?"
Yan Ming and I sat soggy and ashamed, like whipped dogs.
But Madam Shen had no inkling of the truth. Only my mother knew.
That night she dragged me into my room.
"Tell me," she demanded, "is it true? Do you love the Young Master? Does Yan Ming’s heart really belong to Yulan?"
My lip bled under my teeth as I shook my head vehemently.
Her eyes narrowed. "Then how do you explain this? This pendant, it was Madam Shen’s dowry. Why is it on your neck?"
The blow seared my cheek before I realized her hand had risen.
"You ungrateful girl," she spat. "We came to this family to repay kindness. And this is your repayment? To tangle their children so they fall into ruin?" Tears streaked her furious face. "Do you think the Shens or the Zhaos would ever allow the likes of you? You disgrace me. You disgrace us all."
Shame scorched me alive.
She locked me inside, forbidding me to leave. Day after day, she delivered meals in silence. A week passed in suffocating punishment.
Then one evening she brought a bowl of soup.
I drank, trusting her without suspicion.
Soon fever roared within me, my body writhing in heat, a raging fire devouring my blood. She slipped out, locking the door soundly.
I twisted in agony, and through the haze I heard it a click, the door opening.
A familiar voice rushed to me. "What’s wrong?"
Cool hands pressed to my forehead. Electricity sparked through my fever. Instinctively, I leaned closer, drawn helplessly.
The rest dissolved in fragments. His arms catching me. Words whispered gently between breath, "Slow down... Ying, slow down...."
And then slam. The door burst open.
Gasps. A scream.
My mother’s shrill cry colliding with Madam Shen’s own horrified wail.
Chapter 07
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