Bǎihé stood at the door of her room, her hand resting hesitantly on the wooden frame. Beside her, Hépíng waited patiently.
"I don't want to do this," Bǎihé muttered under her breath.
"Gōngzhǔ Fāng, are you alright?" Hépíng asked gently.
Ignoring her, Bǎihé opened the door, revealing her quarters bathed in warm sunlight. Summer flowers bloomed across the space, and a little pond shimmered softly in the corner, where delicate lotus flowers floated like forgotten dreams. But the most striking feature—at least in Bǎihé's eyes—was the small cherry blossom tree beside the open wooden shade platform. Its blossoms bloomed briefly, then withered almost immediately, leaving the floor littered with dead pink petals. Beautiful, yet fleeting. A reminder of her own heart.
And there, beneath the shade, sat Haoyu.
The peaceful morning atmosphere shattered in Bǎihé's mind at the sight of his cheerful smile. He stood gracefully at her arrival.
Bǎihé clenched her fist. Pull yourself together, she muttered inwardly.
"Good morning, Gōngzhǔ Fāng," Haoyu greeted with a bright grin, offering a respectful bow.
"It's Wángzǐ Feng," Bǎihé replied curtly, returning the bow.
Haoyu chuckled softly, the breeze tousling his long hair. His calm dark-brown eyes traced the details of her appearance—her orange dress, her delicate leaf hairpins resting in her side bun. Even in a color she claimed didn't suit her, she looked breathtaking.
"Let's sit, Wángzǐ Feng," Bǎihé said coolly, walking toward the shaded platform.
"Of course," he replied, following her eagerly.
They sat opposite one another on embroidered cushions, a low table between them already set with warm dishes and steam rising like ribbons of fragrance in the morning air.
"I hope you don't mind—Hépíng will stay by my side during the meal," Bǎihé said firmly.
"I don't mind at all," Haoyu said kindly. "In fact, I also brought someone, if you don't mind."
He gestured toward the man standing silently in the corner.
"This is my trusted assistant—Kōng."
"It is an honor, Gōngzhǔ Fāng," Kōng said with a bow, raising his head to meet Bǎihé's gaze.
She froze.
His voice, his presence—it stirred something deep within her. His thick dark-brown hair was tied up neatly with a silver guān, and his light brown eyes held both calm and fire. His sharp jawline and refined features belonged to someone of no notable status, judging by his plain blue robe, yet his aura spoke of silent strength.
Where have I seen him before? Why does he feel so familiar?
"Do I know you?" she finally asked, her voice quieter than intended.
"I do not believe so, Gōngzhǔ. I think this is our first meeting," he replied calmly.
"Ah... I must be mistaken then," Bǎihé said, looking away, embarrassed.
Kōng gave another respectful bow and returned to his corner.
Her attention turned to the food: spicy diced chicken, steamed dumplings, savory prawn stew, and her favorite—rice noodles. Even her secret "pro genius" food invention made the table. The aroma of fish made her mouth water despite her internal frustration.
"You can start eating, Bǎihé," Haoyu said with a smile, picking up his chopsticks.
"Oh," she murmured.
"I thought this was just tea?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Well," Haoyu smiled sheepishly, "it's been a long time since we dined together. I had your favorite dishes prepared."
Her eyes narrowed at the sight of a particular dish. "Glazed pork belly?"
"I thought you liked pork?"
"I used to. Now I hate it. It makes me sick," she said, her voice cold. "You would've known that... if you'd been around."
"I'm sorry. It'll be taken away," Haoyu said quickly, gesturing to Hépíng.
She removed the dish swiftly. Silence fell between them.
Bǎihé cleared her throat. "I didn't want to eat... but since you've brought all this, I won't let it go to waste."
She picked up her chopsticks and took a bite of the spicy chicken. Her mood softened slightly as the flavor burst in her mouth—vibrant, nostalgic, perfect. She couldn't help but sneak glances at Haoyu, who barely touched his food, choosing instead to smile at her, the same warm smile he used to give before... before he left.
"Bǎihé," Haoyu said gently.
"Yes?" she replied with a sigh.
"Would you like some water? The dumplings are quite spicy."
She nodded quickly. Her mouth was on fire.
"Kōng, please get water," Haoyu said.
Kōng hesitated. His eyes briefly met Haoyu's before he turned and left, lips pressed into a line.
As Bǎihé slurped the last of her noodles, Haoyu leaned forward, pulling out a white silk cloth.
"What are you doing?" she asked, eyeing him.
"There's something on your lips," he said. "May I?"
She hesitated, then leaned closer.
His fingers brushed her lips softly—too softly. Her heart fluttered, and she hated it.
What are you doing, Bǎihé? Don't let him get to your head.
She grabbed his hand and pushed it away gently.
Haoyu's smile faded. "I'll always be here... if you're ready to talk. But I'll only wait two more weeks. I miss you."
Bǎihé stood abruptly, adjusting her robe.
"Well, the food was good. You may finish the rest or stay here. I'll be back... hopefully."
"Wait—where are you going?" he asked, standing halfway.
"To get the water," she said, already walking off, leaving Haoyu and Hépíng in silence.