[The next day dawned clear.]
[Perhaps because of yesterday's wind and snow, when the sun shone today, the cold rose from the ground, making it feel especially bleak and freezing.]
[Birds chirped noisily outside. By the time Parasol Tree hazily rose from bed, the sun was already three poles high.]
[She rubbed her head, still feeling a little dazed. She truly could not remember what had happened last night, only that she had gone to the Gathering of Beauties Banquet with Miss Ying and Dew Bud, then had drifted off to sleep in a muddle.]
[Her final vague memory was of Young Master carrying her home.]
[Her cheeks flushed as she secretly thought, What master carries his maidservant on his back?]
[Once she had dressed and stepped out of her chamber, smoke was already curling up from the little courtyard. The fragrance of food from the stove made her stomach rumble and her mouth water.]
[Young Master must already be up.]
[Young Master had been sensible and managed the household since childhood. He was skilled at every sort of chore, from cooking to washing clothes.]
[Sure enough, once she entered the sitting room, a wave of heat rushed over her face. The stove had already been lit that morning, and warmth spread through her whole body.]
[By the window, a young man leaned against the frame, reading.]
[The noon sunlight fell across his face, making him seem especially tranquil.]
[Hearing Parasol Tree's footsteps, you put down your book and looked over.]
[Parasol Tree said somewhat bashfully, "Young Master, Parasol Tree woke up late."]
[You smiled, your tone gentle. "There's food in the pot. I kept it warm for you."]
[Parasol Tree's heart warmed. She and you had long become familiar with one another; the two of you depended on each