“I am a fated acquaintance,” the boy replied.
Bai Lan, hearing his slick words, assumed it was a drunk youth behaving wildly and paid him no mind, trying to walk around him.
The boy was persistent, standing upright and spreading his arms to block him. “Don’t be shy. Why hide? I’m not a bad person!”
Bai Lan saw him lower the flowers, revealing a youthful, familiar face. He squinted, trying to recall who it was. “Do you really look like a good person?”
“You, sir, truly lack any sense of romance. Truly wooden,” Qin Ze teased, then smiled. “But I rather like your unpolished, innocent nature.”
“You’re insane. Step aside, I’m going home.”
“Alright, don’t be so coy. Surely seeing me today made you happy?”
“?”
“Receiving such beautiful camellias—how could you not be curious who sent them?” Qin Ze’s lips curled into a smile as he brushed back a stray lock of hair. “Moreover, the sender is someone as handsome and passionate as I—how could one resist?”
Bai Lan felt a wave of goosebumps and a chill. This was truly unbearable. He very much wanted to ask, silently: Can I hit you?
Qin Ze looked at Bai Lan’s lively expression and tried to speak seriously: “You have feelings, and I have intentions. Tell me, what do you like? Fine silks or beautiful jewels? Prefer to visit the markets or go to the Spring Pavilion? I’ve got plenty of money.”
Bai Lan exhaled through the side of his mouth, narrowing his eyes: “Who exactly are you? Whether I know you or not is one thing—but what feelings? Did you drink too much and come to the medical hall for a hangover cure? If it’s a dream, that medicine won’t help.”
“You don’t know me?” Qin Ze laughed in disbelief. “That day at the academy, you personally took my pulse, and even examined my eyes. Then you prepared medicine and delivered it to the academy. If that wasn’t attentive care, how do you call it ‘no feeling’? And the camellias I sent you—you accepted them, didn’t you? Isn’t that intention?”
Bai Lan pursed his lips, momentarily at a loss for words. What had Ning Muyan taught his students if this is how they behaved?
He didn’t even bother explaining to this young man. He said bluntly: “Stop flattering me. We’re done here. I’m getting married.”
Qin Ze’s eyes widened in shock, then he said, “Ah, come on, don’t speak so sharply.”
“I’m busy. I don’t have time to mess around with you. Go home.”
“You’re so concerned for me, and yet so stubborn.”
Bai Lan waved him off: “Enough. What happens in the ditch is none of my business.”
Seeing Bai Lan try to leave, Qin Ze quickly blocked him again: “You’re really getting married?”
“Who would joke about such a thing?”
This only made Qin Ze more excited. “Tell me, who? Whose looks can rival mine—handsome and graceful, erudite and well-versed, with a fortune to match mine?”
Before Bai Lan could answer, Ning Muyan’s voice cut in: “Whether these things compare to you or not isn’t the point. A scholar must first respect his teacher. Even with a fortune, if you fail this, you’re no scholar at all.”
Qin Ze, impatient, wanted to argue, unaware of others passing the time in romance. But when he turned, he saw the man towering over him, face cold as a deep winter well. His legs nearly gave out, almost tumbling into the city wall’s gutter.
“Dean…?”
Qin Ze forced a stiff smile. “Out for a walk, enjoying yourself?”
“You? Enjoy yourself? Skipping school to flirt with your teacher’s fiancée? All those years of study gone to waste!?”
“Ah?!”
Trembling, Qin Ze glanced at Ning Muyan, then back at the grinning Bai Lan, utterly dumbfounded. Even if he could predict civil examination questions, he couldn’t have guessed that the young man he had been eyeing was his teacher’s fiancé.
Qin Ze, utterly embarrassed, hurriedly hid the camellias behind his back. Had he known Bai Lan was Ning Muyan’s, he never would have tried to flaunt himself.
“You’ve been thoughtful, sending flowers to your teacher’s wife frequently. Yet your studies weren’t always so earnest.” Ning Muyan’s tone was slightly stern.
Qin Ze swallowed nervously, realizing he’d metaphorically dug a hole right beneath the emperor’s throne.
“Dean, this… this is a misunderstanding. I just… just greeted my teacher on the road, nothing more.”
Bai Lan narrowed his eyes, stifled a cough, and thought: that little brat had really pushed him to his limits today.
He feigned innocence, looking at Ning Muyan: “Ah? So your students greet people and say, ‘I have feelings, you have feelings’? Is that how you teach?”
Bai Lan’s hissing exclamation drew Qin Ze to his knees. Hands clasped, he pleaded pitifully: “Please, stop saying more!”
Bai Lan teased, “So young Qin Ze was confident and radiant, but turns out he’s scared of his teacher? No more ‘handsome and dashing,’ I see.”
Qin Ze hastily waved his hands: “Not handsome, not handsome!”
Bai Lan laughed. Watching the boy’s face pale, so different from his earlier bravado, he couldn’t help but feel it was like seeing a mixed double of father and mother in one person.
“From now on, don’t play these games anymore,” Bai Lan said kindly.
“Yes, yes.”
Ning Muyan’s temper hadn’t cooled. He glared at the boy hiding behind Bai Lan. “Next time, you’ll face the consequences.”
“I understand, Dean, I understand,” Qin Ze pleaded cautiously. “Can the student leave now?”
Ning Muyan cast him a sideways glance: “If he doesn’t leave, does he plan to have dinner here?”
Even after the scolding, Qin Ze felt as if a great weight had been lifted. He ran off as fast as he could.
Bai Lan clasped his hands behind his back, smiling at Ning Muyan: “A teacher who’s not proper has produced students who aren’t proper. Truly leading by example.”
Ning Muyan, seeing Bai Lan in his bellflower-colored cloak, with a radiant complexion, reached for his hand, squeezing gently. Snow thickened in the evening; he brushed it off Bai Lan’s shoulder: “How can I be blamed entirely?”
“Or else?”
“Who told you to be so captivating?”
Bai Lan snorted: “I’m not the one attracting your attention. At the gathering today, you had plenty of admirers.”
Ning Muyan frowned: “Someone troubled you?”
“Not really.”
Bai Lan didn’t want to dwell on the gathering. He pulled Ning Muyan’s hand and joked: “You said the flowers were yours. How come in the end the student got the credit?”
Ning Muyan raised an eyebrow: “Since when did I claim I sent them? I’ve been waiting for that boy for days, and today I finally caught him.”
Bai Lan laughed quietly, remembering the day the vase had been broken. Some people look so righteous, but in private, they can be petty.
“Seems like we solved one of the Dean’s worries today. A cause for celebration! I declare it—let’s go to the tavern for a feast. You’re paying.”
After saying that, Bai Lian walked toward the front.
“But all of my private property has already been given to you as the betrothal gifts.”
“Then what a pity—looks like I’ll just have to go alone.”
Ning Muyan smiled and followed after him. Snowflakes drifted down in flurries, and the thin layer of snow atop the rooftops of Yongchang Prefecture grew thicker by the moment, black tiles and white walls gradually blending into a single hue.
Amid the crackling of firecrackers, the snow slowly melted away. Warmth returned, winter passed, and spring arrived.
March came right on schedule.
That day, after Ning Muyan finished teaching at the academy, he kept the entire classroom of students behind.
“Headmaster, are we continuing class late today?”
Ning Muyan closed the book in his hands. “No need. I’m keeping everyone for a moment because I have something to say.”
“Tomorrow I’ll be taking one day off for personal reasons. You may come to the academy or not, but the assigned coursework must be completed regardless.”
The classroom erupted into chatter. Ever since the academy opened, Ning Muyan had never arrived late or left early. Even when students asked for leave, he rarely approved it unless it was absolutely necessary. For the headmaster himself to take a day off was truly unusual.
A mischievous student said, “March scenery is beautiful—could it be that the headmaster is also going out to enjoy the spring? And is that why you’re giving us a chance to admire it too?”
Ning Muyan was in particularly good spirits today. He shook his head. “That’s not it. I’ve already set the rules with you all—leave is not permitted without urgent cause. If you want to enjoy the spring, you can do so during rest days.”
To show that he practiced what he preached, Ning Muyan continued, “This leave is because I am getting married tomorrow.”
Everyone froze.
They were shocked both that Ning Muyan had not yet married—and that he was getting married tomorrow of all days.
“Headmaster, Headmaster! May we ask what kind of family the Madam comes from? When will we get to meet her?”
Ning Muyan only smiled and did not answer. He tucked the book under his arm. “Class dismissed.”
With that, ignoring their curiosity and follow-up questions, he swept out with fluttering sleeves, striding off into the spring light—looking even more high-spirited than when he had once paraded through the streets in official robes after placing first in the imperial examination.
Everyone launched into heated discussion. Only Qin Ze, buried behind a mountain of essays, burst into tears of joy and plunged headfirst into the sea of books.
“He’s finally getting married! At last I won’t have to write three self-reflection essays a day!”
But after celebrating, he let out a long sigh, putting on an air of profound sorrow as he recited mournfully, “You were born before I was, and when I was born, you had already grown old…”
“Oh, give it a rest,” Yu He said. “Still pretending to be a romantic. If this gets back to the headmaster, your three reflections will turn into five.”
Qin Ze shot Yu He a glare. “What, I can’t feel a little sentimental? If I’d met him a few years earlier, who knows who’d be marrying him tomorrow!”
“Keep talking big. With your sorry state, even if you’d been born a generation earlier, you’d still have no chance…”
The seventh day of the third lunar month—auspicious for marriage, seeking blessings, and praying for heirs.
From dawn onward, the firecrackers at Dongli Pear Garden rang without pause, lively as if it were the New Year all over again.
On Zhuque Street, a procession dressed in festive red moved slowly forward. The groom sat tall atop a fine horse, radiant as a deity.
Onlookers along the street marveled at the groom’s handsome appearance, then sighed with regret that by the time they saw him, he already belonged to someone else.
Firecrackers crackled all the way, wedding candies were scattered along the road, and the festivities filled half the street, all the way to the equally bustling Shi Residence.
“Bai Lian, are you ready yet?! The wedding procession is here—don’t miss the auspicious hour!”