At sunset, as dusk fell.
Chen Mu and Ye Qingcheng concealed their auras, looking like an ordinary young gentleman and lady out for a secret rendezvous.
As they walked down the street, he noticed Ye Qingcheng staring at some candied hawthorns for a moment.
Chen Mu went straight over and bought her a skewer.
"Here." He held it out.
"Thank you, husband." Ye Qingcheng bit through the sugar coating into the hawthorn inside. Though it tasted a little sour, her heart was so sweet it was almost cloying.
Afterward.
Chen Mu boarded a Food Boat with Ye Qingcheng.
It was essentially a floating inn drifting across the lake.
After hearing that lotus lanterns would be released later, Chen Mu reserved an upper-deck table by the window, where the view was excellent.
He sat down with Ye Qingcheng and ordered a few pastries and some wine.
They listened to other people chatting and watched children chase one another around the boat, playing and roughhousing.
Then they savored a bite of pastry and a little cup of wine.
To Ye Qingcheng, such a life was somewhat too peaceful, yet it had its own pleasures.
"On this festive occasion, why don't we each compose a poem about what we've seen and heard?"
"Excellent! Brother Lü, you first!"
"Then forgive my humble offering."
The conversation caught Ye Qingcheng's attention. She looked over and saw several self-proclaimed talents reciting poetry and matching verses.
From the folding fans in their hands to their attire, they seemed afraid others might not realize their bellies were filled with learning.
Yet once the verses actually tumbled from their mouths, Ye Qingcheng shook her head with a smile. "Ornate on the surface, but utterly devoid of nourishment."
There was no need even to compare them with Chen Mu's poems.