Fu Niang received the lyric as though she had received a rare treasure.
Standing beneath the window with her head bowed, she read the words on the sheet of Xuan paper once again.
The ink had not yet dried completely, and her face flushed again, for no reason at all.
Clearly, Wei Nisheng had written the lyric; clearly, she had done nothing.
Yet why did those words, "laughing, they steadied each other," make her heart race whenever she looked at them?
So Fu Niang gently blew on the Xuan paper, then blew again, wishing she could dry the ink with a single breath.
"Qingluo," she called toward the door.
The maid waiting beside the carriage hurried inside.
She was a girl of fifteen or sixteen, round-faced and fond of smiling.
Her name was Qingluo, and the Feng Residence had assigned her to be Fu Niang's personal maid.
Qingluo ran in, saw the paper cradled in Fu Niang's hands, and asked with a smile,
"Young mistress, what is that?"
"A lyric." Fu Niang passed the Xuan paper over with the utmost care.
"Keep it safe for me. Don't crease it, don't get it dirty, don't..."
"I understand." Qingluo took the Xuan paper and carefully rolled it up and wrapped it.
"Let's go, young mistress, or we'll be late for the flower gathering."
Reminded of the time, Fu Niang lifted her skirts and skipped toward the courtyard gate.
After two steps, she stopped again, turned her head, and glanced at Wei Nisheng.
Wei Nisheng still stood beneath the window, holding the brush and watching her.
"I'm off!" Fu Niang smiled with her lips pressed together, then turned and ran out through the courtyard gate.
Wei Nisheng stood beneath the window and watched for a while before lowering his head. The ink on