FMT 24

Chapter 24 If He Has the Heart

The next day, Liandan woke up unusually late, so late that every household in the village had already finished their midday meal and the chimneys were no longer smoking much.

When he woke, he saw Sister Tingzi playing with Xiaodan at the edge of the bed.

Tingzi was teaching Xiaodan hand over hand to stack little wooden blocks high. The plump baby’s bright eyes stared curiously at the blocks. With a swing of his little hand, he knocked them all down into a heap. He froze for a moment, then burst into gurgling laughter.

Hearing that laugh, Liandan fully woke and quickly climbed out from under the quilt.

When Tingzi saw him up, she said with a smile, “It’s fine, you should rest more. Your man told me not to let you get up.”

Liandan’s cheeks reddened. He called her “Sister Tingzi,” but his eyes glanced toward the outside.

Tingzi covered her mouth and laughed. “Enough, don’t look for him. He said there was urgent work in town. Since you’re sick, he asked me to help watch you for half the day.” She looked outside. “He should be back in about half an hour.”

Liandan said, “I’m really sorry to trouble you, Sister Tingzi.”

Tingzi waved her hand. “It’s not for nothing. Your man brought my family two jin of yams this morning. Just right, Denggao has been talking about wanting yam porridge these days. I can’t ask for better timing!”

Liandan said, “Still, thank you, Sister Tingzi.”

Tingzi smiled, then remembered something. She picked up the child and placed him into Liandan’s arms. “I’ll go get you some porridge. It’s been simmering all morning.” Putting the child down, she clicked her tongue, patted her arm, and said, “Your Xiaodan is really heavy. This fat boy is raised so well.”

Talking, she went to the outer room to ladle porridge.

Liandan leaned on the bedhead, letting Xiaodan lie inside toward the wall to play.

His body still felt sore and weak, so he lay down again, facing the bed, and reached out to touch the baby’s plump cheek.

Xiaodan held a little wooden block, waving it around and making “ah ah” sounds, drool soaking his collar.

With some effort, Liandan propped himself up, took the drool cloth from beside the pillow, and wiped the child’s mouth.

When he lay back again, he felt slight pain at his neck and chest. Hearing the clatter of pots and bowls outside, he knew Sister Tingzi would not come in right away. He turned to the side, loosened his collar, and quietly looked at his own body.

As soon as he opened his clothes, he smelled a faint bitter scent of ointment warmed by body heat. But sniffing carefully, it seemed as if there was no smell at all.

He could not see his neck, but he clearly saw his chest, it was smooth as usual, nothing different. Liandan closed his collar, tied it, let out a breath, and lay back down.

At that moment, the door opened. Sister Tingzi carried in a bowl of porridge.

Liandan got up and pulled the table closer to the bed. Tingzi set the porridge down. Liandan said, “Sister Tingzi, why don’t you eat here with me, so Aunt Wu doesn’t have to keep food for you.”

Tingzi was not one to be overly polite. She answered, “All right,” and went to fetch bowls and chopsticks.

From inside, Liandan called, “By the stove, in the jar, there are mustard roots I pickled. Next to it, in the small jar, are salted duck eggs. Sister Tingzi, take two duck eggs so we can eat them together.”

Tingzi happily agreed and quickly brought everything over.

The mustard root was cut into shreds, the salted duck egg cut in half, the yolk oozing oil. Tingzi took one half for herself and gave the other to Liandan. She said, “This is salty, one is enough for the two of us.”

Salted duck eggs were considered good food in every household. Duck eggs themselves were not cheap, a bit more expensive than chicken eggs. Salt sold for twelve or thirteen coins a jin, and curing took time. People usually could not bear to take them out to eat.

Liandan was generous, but Tingzi was not greedy either, so she only took one to taste.

The two of them sat and ate porridge with pickles and duck egg. Xiaodan crawled over, sat by them, smacking his lips. Liandan fed him spoonfuls of rice paste from time to time, and the child swayed his head happily.

After eating, Tingzi tidied the table, wiped her hands, and sat by the bed to chat with Liandan.

By then, Xiaodan was full. He lay down on the bed, tilted his head, and fell asleep.

Tingzi looked at Liandan’s long hair scattered on his shoulders, smooth like satin. She could not resist touching the cool, silky ends and praised, “Your hair is really good, not messy and coarse like mine.”

Liandan said, “Sister Tingzi’s hair is thick and black, very nice too.”

Tingzi pursed her lips and laughed.

She looked him over and asked, “I see you can barely get out of bed. What illness do you have? Your man never explained clearly.”

Liandan himself was not sure. He answered vaguely, “It’s nothing serious, just not feeling well. After a day in bed, it gets better.”

Tingzi leaned closer to look at him. Suddenly, as if she understood something, her face turned red with embarrassment. But as a mother of two children, she cleared her throat and reminded quietly, “Don’t let your man go too far. Even if you’re both young, you need to restrain yourselves. Otherwise, you’ll be the one to suffer.”

“Huh?” Liandan did not understand at first.

Tingzi smiled, reached out and pinched his cheek. Seeing her expression, Liandan understood at once, his face flushing red. He hurried to say, “No… it’s not…”

But Tingzi had already turned her head, laughing to herself, no longer listening to his explanation.

Liandan grew anxious. “Sister Tingzi, it really isn’t…”

Tingzi waved her hand. “All right, if it’s not, it’s not. Can’t I believe you?”

She stood and said, “It’s about time. Sleep for a while. When you wake, your man should be back. I need to go too.”

Liandan watched helplessly as she left. As she went out, she teased, “Such a thin-skinned face…”

The door closed. She was gone.

Liandan lay back on the bed, wanting to close his eyes and sleep. But he had already slept until past noon, there was no more sleep left.

He lay there, carefully feeling his body. Right now, though he was sore all over, especially his lower back and legs weak and aching, it was not the kind of misery like catching a chill. On the contrary, besides the weariness, he felt full and comfortable.

He pulled the quilt up until it covered his chin.

He rubbed his cheek against the coarse cloth cover, his eyes moist, dazed for a while. His mind was empty, as if some images flashed by, yet as if nothing had.

Liandan blinked. His cheeks flushed red for no reason.

He lay a while longer. The courtyard gate was still quiet. The man who should have been back by now had not returned.

Just earlier, Sister Tingzi had said that in the morning Chen Shuangning brought her two jin of yams to ask her to help take care of him. Liandan could not imagine what that man looked like when asking for help. No matter how he thought about it, it felt strange. Thinking of this, he could not help but shake his head and smile.

….

In the mountains outside Kaoshan Village, just a couple of feet from the entrance of the secluded cave, Chen Shuangning stopped lightly.

He set down the bundle in his hand, raised his hand to the side of his face, and carefully removed a thin mask along his hairline, placing it into a box.

When he lifted his head again and shook his hair, the young man turned into a maiden. That maiden was Xueming.

The real Chen Shuangning had already left the Chen house before dawn, using the cover of night to go up the mountain.

The reason for such urgency was because he had torn apart the mask, and also because…

Liandan was living with Chen Shuangning every day, and being both clever and perceptive, Xueming dared not disguise herself as the Sect Leader in front of him, so she went to the neighboring house to ask someone else for help.

After putting down the box, Xueming said nothing, only bowed deeply toward the inside of the cave.

Inside, the hoarse strange voice sounded somewhat impatient. “Why did it take so long?”

Xueming lowered her head and answered, “The materials for the mask were not enough, I had to find more.”

“You’re blaming me?” The voice inside grew even more displeased.

But Xueming only cupped her fists and replied evenly, “This subordinate would not dare.”

“Hmph.” The person inside snorted coldly and said no more. Silence fell on both sides.

After a while, Xueming pressed her lips together, then still spoke. “The mask can be remade, but once your inner strength loses control, it may break your meridians, even cause your body to explode. Last night, Sect Leader, you should not have indulged in affection and placed yourself in danger…”

“Silence!” the voice inside roared.

But this time Xueming did not obey out of fear. She choked out, “Sect Leader, you know in your heart. If something happens to you, he might not survive either. Then Xiaodan would have no dad and no father, and I too would have no…”

At this point, Xueming abruptly stopped and closed her mouth.

The cave was silent for a while. Then the hoarse strange voice came slowly, he said word by word: “You would have no what?”

Xueming’s hands, clenched her hands hanging at her sides, veins bulging on the backs. She slowly retreated a few steps, returned to the cave entrance, placed the box with the new mask at the opening, then bowed deeply. Turning away, she tapped her toes lightly, disappearing into the dense forest.

Only occasional bird calls remained in the woods.

No one knew how long had passed when faint rustling came from inside the cave.

Before long, a tall figure wearing only a thin white robe stepped out.

His long hair fell over his chest and back, covering most of his face, pale like that of no living person. Between the strands, only a pair of half-lowered eyes showed.

A breeze blew past, lifting the hem of his robe.

“Liu Shuqi.”

He spoke a name.

From the forest emerged a young man in black clothing. He bowed.

“She knows?” asked the man in white.

Liu Shuqi pressed his lips together and said, “She may have always known.”

At these words, the eyelids of the man in white trembled.

Liu Shuqi looked at him, sorrow slowly filling his eyes. He clenched his teeth, stepped closer, and said, “Xue Zong, you should live with more joy.”

The man called Xue Zong suddenly raised his lids, sharp eyes flashing. For an instant, it seemed as if dark red rivers of blood flowed through them.

But Liu Shuqi showed no fear. He stepped closer, looked at him, and said, “You fulfilled everyone else. Why can’t you once fulfill yourself?”

Xue Zong stared fixedly at him without speaking. But Liu Shuqi knew he was listening.

“Just this once, be selfish, be reckless,” Liu Shuqi said earnestly. “Don’t worry. Xue Ming and I will handle it for you.”

At the end, he spoke softly. “Just think of him as the world’s compensation to you.”

Liu Shuqi bent and picked up the box with the new mask, lifting it over his head with both hands.

The man in white silently accepted the box, turned, and went back inside the cave.

After a while, when he came out again, he was already wearing the coarse cotton robe Liandan had arranged to have bought from town, his hair neatly tied.

The mask fitted seamlessly to his face. Even under sunlight, there was no flaw.

Only when those eyes lifted, they did not match the delicate features of the face, shocking to behold.

Chen Shuangning raised his hand to take the bundle handed by Liu Shuqi, which Xue Ming had left earlier.

Liu Shuqi stepped back a few paces, cupped his fists, and bowed. When he lifted his head, the figure before him had already vanished.

Liu Shuqi looked at the forest in the distance, sighed slowly, and wiped his face, showing fatigue.

He walked to the cave entrance and erased the traces around it. With a wave of his hand, the cave mouth disappeared like ink wiped from a table, leaving only barren ground.

After finishing, Liu Shuqi tapped his toes and leapt away, vanishing into the forest depths.

…..

When the courtyard gate finally creaked, Liandan was just drifting into sleep.

Hearing footsteps in the yard, he woke instantly, propped himself up, and looked.

He did not know why, but though the footsteps sounded no different, he felt sure it was Chen Shuangning returning.

Sure enough, the inner door was gently pushed open, and Chen Shuangning’s tall figure entered. The moment he stepped in, his gaze went straight to the bed.

Their eyes met. Liandan felt an unexplainable embarrassment but still waved at the man who had just come in.

Chen Shuangning turned, closed the door, and carrying a bundle, slowly walked over.

Liandan patted the chair by the bed and said softly to him, “Xiaodan has been asleep a good while. He should be waking soon.”

Chen Shuangning gave a quiet “Mm,” sat on the chair, and placed the bundle on the bedside, in front of Liandan.

Liandan curiously glanced at it and asked, “What is it?”

Chen Shuangning untied the bundle wrapping and showed him. Liandan leaned forward to look, and his face lit with delight.

Inside the bundle was a stack of sky-blue fabric, very much like what Chen Shuangning had worn when he first came back.

Earlier, when buying cotton to make jackets and trousers for the child, Liandan had seen the price reasonable and bought plenty to keep.

With this cloth, he could make another jacket for Chen Shuangning.

Liandan looked up at the young man and said softly, “Do you like cross-collar or straight collar? These next two days I’m free, I can make you a jacket.”

But Chen Shuangning shook his head and said, “This fabric is for you.”

Liandan froze, stunned, and after a long while, asked uncertainly, “For me?”

Chen Shuangning said, “This winter should be colder than last. Make yourself a thick jacket.”

Liandan asked, “And you?”

Chen Shuangning said, “It’s not freezing yet. This jacket of mine can last for a while. Later, when I’ve saved enough from day work, I’ll buy more.”

Only then did Liandan feel at ease.

After a bit of talk, Chen Shuangning took another paper packet from the bundle and opened it for Liandan. Liandan had never even seen what it was, only knew it was food. It smelled wonderful, sweet and fragrant.

Chen Shuangning took out a piece, motioning him to eat. Liandan did not reach out but instinctively leaned forward and ate it straight from his hand.

The cake was white and glutinous, with a faint fragrance of lotus. Liandan had never tasted anything so fine. His eyes narrowed in happiness.

He did not notice the way Chen Shuangning’s expression had suddenly gone taut when he ate from his hand, nor how afterward, the man’s fingertip rubbed against his own thumb again and again.

“It’s delicious,” Liandan said happily.

Chen Shuangning, still looking down at his hand, said calmly, “If you like it, eat more. Dinner can be later.”

Liandan took another piece from the packet, but did not put it in his own mouth.

He still remembered Tang Hua’s words. Affectionate words, he could only manage that one sentence. Another he could not say.

But… Liandan held the piece of cake forward and said, blushing, “You eat too.”

Chen Shuangning lifted his eyes. Seeing the red blush on Liandan’s face, he now understood the husband’s heart. He no longer found his thoughts puzzling.

Chen Shuangning did not move for a long time, only quietly watching him.

Liandan held the cake in his hand, his gaze soft as water, gently enveloping the young man before him. At this distance, he seemed again to see the snowfields and playful fish in the depths of those eyes.

Liandan bit his lip. His face was burning, but he still pushed the cake forward again.

This time, Chen Shuangning did not stay motionless.

He leaned forward slightly, opened his lips, and ate the cake from Liandan’s hand.

Liandan pulled his hand back, his heart racing, even the tips of his ears red. But he did not retreat, and instead smiled at the young man with curved brows and eyes, looking very lovely.

Chen Shuangning’s gaze stayed fixed on his face for a long while before finally looking away.

….

With the cakes eaten, they were not hungry. At night, they reheated the leftover porridge from noon and stewed dried potato slices with lard. That was dinner.

The porridge was reheated by Chen Shuangning, the potatoes stewed by Liandan.

By then he was not feeling so unwell, so doing a bit of work helped him move about.

After eating and tidying, Xiaodan crawled back and forth on the bed. Liandan blocked him in with a quilt and his own body, letting the child play freely.

The plump baby had slept too much in the day, so he was not sleepy at night. Liandan let him crawl to tire him out, so he could sleep soundly later.

When Chen Shuangning finished tidying the outer room, he washed his hands and, as usual, brought brush, ink, paper, and inkstone to teach Liandan to read and write.

By then Xiaodan was tired from crawling. Liandan held him in his arms while listening to Chen Shuangning explain the characters.

After learning more than ten characters, Liandan began practicing writing.

He reviewed his own name, then wrote Xiaodan’s name to show him.

Xiaodan smacked the paper with his little chubby hand, babbling “ah ah,” as if he understood and was pleased.

After finishing both names, Liandan’s brush stopped. He looked at Chen Shuangning, who was reading.

Chen Shuangning must have felt his gaze, for he lifted his eyes.

Liandan moved his lips and said softly, “How do you write your name? I want to learn.”

At those words, Chen Shuangning’s pupils seemed to contract. Then he silently took the brush from Liandan’s hand and carefully wrote “陳霜寧.”

Liandan lowered his head to study it. He gathered Xiaodan’s mischievous little hands and chubby body into his arms, then looked at Chen Shuangning and asked, “Can I try?”

Chen Shuangning handed him the brush and placed Xiaodan on his own lap.

Liandan wrote each stroke very carefully, imitating the young man’s writing, and wrote out the three characters.

Afterward, he examined it and said, “This name looks beautiful.”

Chen Shuangning said slowly, “People say names sound good, not that they look good.”

Liandan looked at him earnestly and said, “The three characters of Chen Shuangning sound good when spoken and look good when written.”

After speaking, Liandan stared at the young man so close before him.

He had finally spoken another affectionate sentence. But the other still looked unmoved.

Tang Hua had said, scholars understood feelings. If he spoke affectionate words, as long as the other had the heart, then naturally…But what if he did not?

Yet Xiaodan was now in Chen Shuangning’s arms. They even had a child between them!

Liandan’s brow moved. He suddenly realized that when he had married into the Chen family, Chen Shuangning had not even known. That night at Lingyun Temple, it was he who had begged him, and so there was that one night, and afterward Xiaodan.

Thinking of this, Liandan felt dispirited. His shoulders drooped. But Chen Shuangning still sat at the table, looking at the words on the paper.

On the yellowed paper, Liandan’s crooked name was written, Xiaodan’s slightly slanted below it, and beside Liandan’s name, above Xiaodan’s, was Chen Shuangning’s.

It looked like a family record of three. The child was Xiaodan. The dad was Liandan. And the father was him.

Liandan lowered his head, his eyes slowly reddening. He did not want the young man to see his tears, so he turned toward the bed, trying not to let his sobs escape, and said with his back to him, “I’m tired, I want to rest.”

Behind him, there was still no sound. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and Liandan felt bitterly pained, he wanted to dive into the quilt.

But he failed. A cold hand held his wrist. Liandan stiffened, not knowing what the man meant, while his tears still fell in grievance. He wanted to look back but could not.

“Liandan.” The hoarse strange voice slowly called his name.

Hearing it, his tears only flowed harder.

The hand on his wrist let go, moved to his thin shoulder, and ignoring his struggles, turning his body to face him.

Liandan raised his tearful eyes toward Chen Shuangning. Since he could not hide it, he gave up. He cried until even his cheeks and nose were red, his face covered with tears.

Chen Shuangning stood at the bedside, eyes lowered on him.

Liandan seemed to see again in those eyes the boundless white snowfields. Words he had been unable to say for days surged up, and he had to say them. Wiping his face with his hand, choking, he said, “It’s so cold by the window. Will you sleep on the bed?”

He waited, but Chen Shuangning did not answer, only looked at him with an expression he could not understand.

Liandan could not bear it anymore. Struggling, he tried to burrow into the quilt, but his shoulder was gripped tightly, leaving him unable to move.

Crying, he said brokenly, “You…!”

Only the first word came out. He could not speak further.

Because those small crimson lips had already been sealed by another pair, thin and cool.