Remarriage

Liang Yun had not deceived her.

The next morning, with dark circles beneath their eyes, the two of them continued downstream, soon reaching the foot of the mountain.

At the mountain’s base lay broad stretches of cultivated fields and five or six farmhouses scattered in a picturesque fashion. The valley air was stirred by a gentle wind, sending flocks of birds into flight, while the sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking filled the air. All of it was a peaceful serenity the likes of which Yingshi had never seen before.

But that tranquil moment was short-lived. The yellow dogs gamboling in the fields quickly spotted the two strangers from afar. In groups of three or five, they dashed over, barking wildly at the pair.

Dogs, as the old saying goes, look down on people and rely on their masters for courage—none of the phrases involving dogs are particularly flattering. Was this not the wisdom of the ancients?

The more you fear a dog, the bolder it becomes; it is the very embodiment of bullying the weak and fearing the strong.

As Yingshi glanced down, she saw two old dogs with sleek black fur and somewhat lecherous looks circling her feet. It seemed as if the pair of dogs could sense who among the two was more timid, who feared them more.

Sharing a knowing look, the two dogs, their four stubby legs working in concert, flanked Liang Yun, circling to his back and then barking furiously at Yingshi on his back.

“Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!”

Yingshi was so startled her face drained of color, and she nearly scrambled onto Liang Yun’s shoulders in panic.

“Go away! Go away!” All she could do was shriek at the top of her lungs.

With her clinging tightly from behind, he had to steady himself while fending off the dogs—a sight that surely looked rather disheveled.

Liang Yun took a deep breath, only to have the faint, sweet fragrance from her body—like osmanthus and orchid—fill his senses, lingering persistently.

His voice deepened. “Don’t move around.”

Fortunately, a few village women washing clothes by the stream had noticed the commotion in the distance. One of them, brandishing a wooden club, hurried over, cursing as she chased the dogs away.

“You two are outsiders? Did you come down from the mountain?” the robust, club-wielding woman asked, eyeing them with curiosity.

Yingshi had no wish for anyone to learn of her peculiar relationship with Liang Yun, so she quickly replied, “He is my elder brother.”

Liang Yun was of the same mind.

With a gentle lift of his eyes, he followed her lead: “I took my little sister out for a walk in the mountains, but we lost our way. She twisted her ankle, so I had to find a shortcut to bring her out.”

He made it all sound perfectly reasonable.

The man’s striking features, his plain blue robe and simple sash accentuating his slender, upright figure—his bearing was as steady and noble as a pine or cypress. Even his speech was cultured and refined, every gesture exuding good breeding.

At a single glance, the village woman found herself favorably disposed toward this pair of siblings.

“So that’s how it is! We have many mountains and streams here—it’s common for people to lose their way and end up in our village. Young sir and young lady, where is your home?”

Liang Yun replied, “We live at the foot of Qianjiang. May I ask, madam, how far is it from here?”

“Qianjiang? Why, that’s dozens of miles away from here!”

Yingshi, still muddled, could not quite follow their exchange. It was as though she were invisible to them.

She simply lay her head against Liang Yun’s back, her dark eyes fixed warily on the distant pack of dogs, which still eyed them hungrily.

“You two should come rest at my house for the night. Tomorrow morning, there’ll be an ox cart heading to market—you can ride along to town, and from there, you’ll surely find a coach to Qianchuan,” the woman offered.

Villagers here seldom saw outsiders, let alone such well-bred, attractive people as Liang Yun and Yingshi. Before long, many farmers and country women had stopped their work to gather around.

Some, quick-tongued and not bothering to ask, immediately mistook them for a married couple.

“Where are you and your wife from?” someone called out.

“Did your missus hurt her leg?”

Such crude remarks brought awkward stiffness to Liang Yun’s expression, forcing the usually reticent man to explain.

“She’s not... not my wife.”

Yingshi was annoyed as well.

Wife, fine—but “missus”? What an awful term! Did she look that old?

“Brother, let’s rest at this lady’s house,” Yingshi whispered by his ear, her breath fragrant as orchids.

The villagers were sincere and hospitable. The woman led Liang Yun and Yingshi to a vacant room in her home to rest, hurrying to serve them tea.

“We country folk live simply; I hope you and your sister won’t mind,” she said.

How could Yingshi possibly mind? She accepted the tea, her pale, slender hands like lotus petals lifting the bowl. Lowering her head, her lips of delicate pink touched the rim. She drank gracefully, yet seemed parched, her brows gently furrowed as she sipped in small, refined swallows—like one savoring nectar from the heavens.

Liang Yun, however, had not forgotten his promise to Yingshi. Halfway through his tea, he set the bowl down and inquired whether there was a physician nearby, and where he might be found.

As it happened, they were in luck. Normally, the village had no doctor—people either traveled into town for treatment or simply endured their ailments. But just recently, a wandering physician had settled nearby, skilled in treating injuries and sprains.

“That doctor is truly remarkable. Not only sprains—even when we break bones, he splints them with bamboo and applies his ointments. In less than a month, the bones knit perfectly, and we’re up and walking again!” The woman’s words were full of admiration.

After hearing this, Liang Yun left the woman to look after Yingshi and went to find the wandering physician.

The woman could not help but marvel at the siblings’ distinguished manners and bearing, so different from anyone she’d ever met—surely they were of some notable background. Once the young gentleman had gone, she turned her curiosity on Yingshi, who looked so tender and youthful.

“How old are you, miss? And your brother, how old is he?”

Yingshi answered honestly at first: “I am sixteen. My brother... he is twenty-four.”

Twenty-three? Twenty-four? Maybe twenty-five? In truth, she had never heard of anyone celebrating Liang Yun’s birthday in their household, so she simply gave a number that seemed about right.

In the countryside, people asked whatever they wished, without any sense of reserve. “Really? Your brother looks so young, yet he’s twenty-four? That’s not young at all—surely he has children by now?”

At his age, the villagers’ children would already be lining up to buy soy sauce.

Yingshi shook her head, making up a story: “He has very high standards and hasn’t married yet.”

This only made the woman more curious—what a peculiar young gentleman, holding out so long for a suitable match, with younger siblings’ marriages at stake!

“And you, miss? Sixteen is not so young. If your elder brother delays his marriage, your parents and elders must have arranged one for you by now?”

Yingshi replied softly, “Can’t you tell, ma’am? I’m already married.”

The woman thought Yingshi was teasing her and looked skeptical. “You look so young—are you truly married? You’re not just making fun of me?”

Yingshi explained gently, “I only just married, but fate was unkind—my husband died young. I barely entered the household before I was widowed...”

The woman stared at her, shocked into silence. She hadn’t expected her casual question to touch such a sorrowful story.

Feeling a pang of regret for her loose tongue, she tried to comfort Yingshi: “You’re still young—the days ahead are long. You must learn to look forward and move on.”

“You’re so beautiful—surely it would be easy to find a good match again!”

Such a lovely, young widow—how could she not find a new husband?

Yingshi paused, then shook her head with a smile. “Remarry? Please don’t tease me, ma’am. They would never allow me to remarry.”

“And why not? Does your husband’s family mistreat you, forcing you to remain a widow?”

Yingshi was silent, which was answer enough.

The woman’s voice rose: “But you have your own family—your brother seems to dote on you. With him to stand up for you, who could possibly bully you?”

“My brother? He is fond of me, yes, but—”

The woman, unable to resist, pressed further, “But what?”

Yingshi gazed out the window. The dense tree canopy cast deep shade, blotting out layer upon layer of sunlight. Some nameless feeling welled up inside her. Feigning sorrow, she covered her face with her sleeve and, half in jest, half in earnest, murmured, “If he ever knew I wished to remarry, he would rather see me dead—”

When Liang Yun returned with the physician, the woman told him that his sister, tired of waiting, was now bathing in the back room.

Liang Yun asked no questions and waited patiently outside with the doctor.

Each time the woman passed by, she could not help sneaking glances at Liang Yun, as if wanting to speak but hesitating.

“Is there something you wish to say, madam?” Liang Yun finally asked, his face impassive.

Caught off guard, the woman startled. Then, seeing his expression still gentle and open, she ventured, “Yes... I heard your sister say she is a widow?”

His demeanor visibly cooled.

Though the woman was quick-tongued and nosy, she was soft-hearted. Having heard Yingshi’s story, she couldn’t help but offer a few words of advice to her brother.

“There is much gossip at a widow’s door. Your sister is still so young, with no man to rely on, not even a child to her name... Have you thought of how hard her later years might be?”