51. Making a Wish

Qinglan and Yanyan returned with A Cuo well into the night. Lingbo knew at once that Old Madam Ye had kept them there. Age was merciless; during festive seasons, when families were supposed to be gathered in happiness, an old person’s loneliness and decline became all the more apparent. That was why she needed her grandchildren around her, bringing her joy and warmth, to ward off the chill of the passing years.

That was also why Old Madam Ye had always favored Yanyan.

But Ye Lingbo was not one to be softened by such things. Of the three sisters, she held grudges the longest. Seeing them return so late, she was already somewhat displeased. Yanyan, however, cheerfully brought over a set of hairpins to show her.

“Old Madam gave these to you. She told us to open her jewelry box and choose something, so we all did. Nurse Wu chose this for you. She said your hair is thick, and these combs would look lovely in it.”

“Did A Cuo choose something?” Lingbo asked first.

A Cuo showed her the hair ornament at her temples. Old Madam Ye’s things were indeed of fine quality. This set of combs was pure gold, inlaid with jeweled pendants, and grand in design.

But Lingbo asked again, “Did Ye Yinzhuang choose something too?”

Qinglan smiled.

“Although Aunt Pan is vicious, it is the New Year. Old Madam could hardly humiliate Ye Yinzhuang in front of everyone. The children should not be punished for their parents’ sins.”

Lingbo did not believe that for a moment.

“When we were the ones harmed, Aunt Pan certainly did not spare us for our mother’s sake.”

Her dissatisfaction with Old Madam Ye even extended to the hairpins. She glanced at them, then tossed them back into their box.

“She did not uphold justice when it mattered. Now she finally wants to step forward? Too late by eight autumns.”

“Stop keeping what happened back then in your heart. It is not good for you either,” Qinglan urged. “It is the New Year. Do not say such things. Let us be happy.”

“Why shouldn’t I remember? I intend to remember. I simply have no time at present. Once I finish dealing with the important matters at this year’s Flower-Tide Banquet, I will settle those old accounts with them. Aunt Pan and Lord Ye can both forget about escaping. That will be when I am truly happy.”

Qinglan laughed at her.

“What important matters do you have this year? Tell me about them.”

Lingbo was not afraid of letting anything slip. Qinglan’s nature was too open and guileless; she was poor at detecting the subtler thoughts of others and would never realize that Lingbo was plotting to mend the broken ties of fate right beneath her eyes. A Cuo, on the other hand, was quick-witted. She pressed her lips together and smiled at Lingbo.

“You little imp.”

Lingbo rubbed A Cuo’s head. The girl was truly beautiful, as delicate as a little silk doll. Unable to resist, she pinched her cheek, too. Yanyan was lovely, but she was not as clever and perceptive as A Cuo. Lingbo treated A Cuo as an enchanting little treasure, drawing her into her arms.

“How brave are you, A Cuo? Are you afraid of fireworks? I prepared a great many. We shall set them off together in a moment.”

A Cuo leaned against her trustingly.

“I am not afraid.”

“I am not afraid either!” Yanyan had already run outside and returned clutching a handful of fireworks. “Stop talking. They will get damp soon. Come quickly—I will show you how to set them off. I am the best at fireworks. Even better than Liu Ji.”

“You really are asking for a beating! How dare you bring fireworks into the house? What if they start a fire?” Lingbo scolded her while chasing her outside. “Slow down, or you will fall. Liu Ji, do not let her touch the fireworks. Burning her hands is no joke!”

The night deepened. Firecrackers sounded from every household, driving away evil spirits. Liu Ji brought the young servants out as well and used a long pole to raise the firecrackers high before lighting them. Their thunderous explosions seemed to shatter the frustrations gathered in everyone’s hearts.

One rack of fireworks after another was carried out and lit. In the snow, they bloomed like towering trees covered in flowers. The four sisters stood at the foot of the steps, Lingbo and Qinglan on either side, with the two younger girls between them.

Madam Yang instructed Uncle Yang Wu to burn a roaring brazier of flame. Then they carried the bronze furnace into the courtyard. Turning to Qinglan and Lingbo, she said, “Misses, it is time to burn the Grand Duke’s Talisman.”

This was a custom of the capital. People believed that the fire on New Year’s Eve could communicate with the gods, so they kept a brazier burning throughout the night. A talisman for the Grand Duke was brought out and burned in the fire. The ritual was called Sending Off the Grand Duke, or Burning the Grand Duke, and was meant to drive away misfortune, signifying peace, good fortune, and smooth passage in the coming year.

In other households, this was the duty of the head of the family, almost always a man. But in the Wutong Residence, the heads of the household were the sisters Qinglan and Lingbo.

Uncle Yang Wu handed over the talisman. Qinglan examined it, then placed it in the fire, where it curled and vanished. Madam Yang lit a bundle of incense and passed it to Lingbo. Lingbo divided it among the four of them. Each held a stick of incense and closed her eyes before the flames to pray.

Fearing that A Cuo did not understand, Lingbo carefully instructed her. “Make a wish. This is a New Year’s prayer. It will surely come true.”

A Cuo obediently nodded. Holding the incense between her clasped hands, she closed her eyes and stood silently before the blazing fire, making her wish.

In the new year, she hoped that all the Ye sisters would see their wishes fulfilled, that everyone would remain healthy and happy, and that they would always be gathered together, never to part.

Snowflakes fell from the boundless heavens, landing on their faces and melting soundlessly, like kisses, or like tears.

Her aunt, Madam Meng, must be watching from heaven. Had she been reunited with Madam Ye? And Grandfather—he must be with Father and Mother.

When she was ten, the little duck she had raised was accidentally trampled to death by a servant. She had cried so hard that she could not eat for an entire day, and Grandfather had refused to eat with her. He had even gone personally to the farmers’ homes to ask whether anyone had newly hatched ducklings for sale. Even the women who carried water for the magistrate’s office had marveled that they had never seen a little girl raised with such tenderness.

That old man with the grizzled beard, the thin, clear-cut face, and the frail, spare body—once he reached heaven, he must no longer worry about his A Cuo.

She had grown up. She possessed the strength to protect herself. She was no longer alone. She had a new home, and people who treated her like a true sister. At the Flower-Tide Banquet, she would win a complete and happy future for herself and for them all.

In the capital, the duty of keeping vigil on New Year’s Eve belonged to the head of the household, and was generally performed by the men. The custom of the Wutong Residence was different. Qinglan and Lingbo kept vigil together, remaining awake until midnight, setting off firecrackers, and only then going to bed.

Usually Yanyan was the first to retire. This year, with A Cuo there, she naturally received the same treatment. Everyone gathered around the warming brazier to play cards and chat for a while. Before long, Yanyan began to nod off, so Lingbo had Madam Yang carry her to bed.

A Cuo stubbornly insisted on keeping vigil with the others. Lingbo knew that the girl considered herself a grown-up, so she did not stop her. She even let A Cuo taste the strong tea she had brewed. It was so bitter that A Cuo wrinkled her nose.

As midnight drew near, A Cuo could no longer quite endure it. She rose and walked about for a while. Snow was falling outside, and the cold wind against her face revived her somewhat.

Then she saw Yang Hua beckoning to her from one side. Unsure what she wanted, A Cuo walked over in puzzlement.

“Cousin, come with me,” Yang Hua said with a smile.

A Cuo followed her around the covered corridor. She knew this was the rear courtyard of the Wutong Residence. Beyond it lay the street, with a narrow lane where the servants came and went. Though it was technically a public lane, no one used its original name anymore. Everyone simply called it Ye Family Lane.

Snow was falling outside. Yang Hua held an umbrella over A Cuo. A plum tree in the lane was in full bloom. Throughout the capital, households were keeping vigil, their lights shining from every window, while firecrackers sounded at intervals.

A Cuo assumed Yang Hua wanted to show her something. Instead, beneath the plum tree stood a man wearing the cloak of a patrolling Imperial Guard.

A Cuo recognized him at once as the person who had come to deliver a message from Wei Yushan. Her expression immediately darkened.

“Not this again. I told you not to skulk around. If he has something to say, let him say it himself.”

“I am saying it myself.”

The man’s bright voice rang out with laughter. He lifted off his snow hat.

It was Wei Yushan.

For the New Year, he was naturally dressed in new clothes: a vermilion brocade robe embroidered with cliffs, waves, and a qilin. Gold and red gleamed together in splendid brilliance, perfectly suited to the snow.

The young ladies of the capital regarded him as unquestionably one of the top three most desirable men at the Flower-Tide Banquet. They had whispered about him in private, of course without naming him outright. But A Cuo knew whom they meant when they said that a young general possessed a certain imposing air, that men who had fought in wars retained a youthful vigor unlike the pedantry of scholars.

Everyone said he was handsome and full of heroic spirit. A Cuo thought he was merely ordinary. So what if he was beautiful? She had seen enough beauty in the mirror since childhood.

Even with Wei Yushan smiling at her in the snow like a little wolf wagging its tail, she remained unmoved.

“What are you here for?” Her tone was still petulant and disdainful. “Why are you not celebrating the New Year with your family?”

“There was nothing interesting happening. I left after the reunion dinner and even took the men from my camp to climb the Bell Tower.”

He sounded quite pleased with himself.

A Cuo had no interest in the inexplicable competitiveness of an eighteen-year-old boy, nor in his thoroughly boyish pursuits. She merely listened with half an ear.

“Why are you wearing an Imperial Guard uniform?” she asked.

“I hold an honorary post in the Imperial Guard now. I am no longer bound by the night curfew, so I can run all over the city. You do not need to worry about being locked indoors anymore.”

He looked smug.

The Wei family were northerners, with narrow faces and little flesh on their bones. Yet because their bone structure was excellent, they did not appear sharp or gaunt. Every expression suited them, especially a smile like this one. With the corners of his lips curved upward, he looked exactly like the young general in a story who had just made a name for himself.

A Cuo was not impressed. It would have been better if he had not mentioned the curfew. Now she could not help remembering how he had once used it as an excuse to stop the Ye family carriage.

“I cannot stay out for long. I am going back.”

Wei Yushan was not offended. Assuming she was angry because she had been confined to the residence, he smiled and said, “Then I shall come to pay my New Year’s respects tomorrow. I am the one who goes on behalf of my family. I will come to greet you on the first day of the year.”

“No,” A Cuo said. “That does not count. It is not the Wei family coming to pay their respects. It would look as though the Ye sisters were borrowing your family’s reputation.”

“I represent the Wei family. Do not worry. After visiting the Princess Regent’s residence and the four princely mansions, I will come to your home. The carriage and ceremony will be exactly the same, and my mother has prepared the gifts as well.”

A Cuo was a girl, after all, and did not know that by seventeen or eighteen, a boy was considered half a grown man and could stand on equal footing with his parents. Besides, Wei Yushan commanded troops and was accustomed to doing whatever he pleased.

“Very well.”

Only then did she seem somewhat mollified. She turned to leave, but he caught her sleeve.

The young man was a head taller than her. He usually looked formidable before his subordinates and even his parents, but today he was unusually easygoing. Smiling at her, he opened his cloak.

“Would you like to see something interesting?”

“What?”

A Cuo would never go looking for anything herself. Wei Yushan did not seem cold at all. His brocade robe was thin, and a sword hung at his waist. Nothing suggested what he might have hidden beneath it.

He reached into his robe and took something out, placing it in her hand.

It was a palm-sized stone carving of a birdlike mythical creature, seemingly chipped from some larger object. Its surface was cracked and battered, as though it had endured years of wind and rain.

“What is this?” A Cuo asked, puzzled.

“A warding roof tile from the Bell Tower.” Seeing that she did not understand, Wei Yushan explained, “The capital’s largest bell tower is the Southern Bell Tower at the Sutra Repository Temple. It has twenty-eight stone beasts like this. There is a legend that, after listening to the scriptures, the beasts gained spirits of their own and could grant wishes. Every one of them was stolen long ago. I climbed up to look and found that one still remained at the very top. No one else could reach it, and no one dared to climb that high. So I knocked it down and brought it to you.”

“What did you bring it to me for? I have no wish to make.”

A Cuo looked him over despite herself.

“You were not hurt, were you?”

“I am perfectly fine.”

Wei Yushan immediately moved his arms and turned around to show her that he had not been injured.

Indeed, he was unharmed. Only the sleeve of his brocade robe had snagged, loosening a few threads in the qilin’s whiskers.

A Cuo took out her sewing kit and mended it for him. He obediently extended his arm while holding up a lantern with his other hand to illuminate her work.

A Cuo had no scissors. She leaned closer, pressed her face against his arm, and bit through the loose thread. Her cheek, carrying the faint fragrance of cosmetics, brushed across Wei Yushan’s chest. It lasted only an instant, but his ears immediately turned scarlet.

“Done.”

A Cuo put away her needle and thread.

Wei Yushan pressed a hand over the place she had mended. It seemed he could still feel the dampness left on the thread. Though he was not injured, his arm felt as if another wound had appeared there—a new wound already beginning to heal, with tender pink flesh and soft skin that itched unbearably, leaving him at a loss.

“I will come to pay my New Year’s respects tomorrow,” he said again.

“You already said that.”

A Cuo lowered her eyes. Wei Yushan thought she was probably still angry about being discovered by Shen Biwei.

His life had always gone smoothly. He was clever and strong, and neither scholarship nor martial arts presented any difficulty. Even the exceedingly difficult art of war had come to him quickly. He had entered the battlefield at fourteen and grown up amid warfare. Even if his father did not receive a marquisate, Wei Yushan was still, by all rights, the young general of the family.

Yet he could not solve the riddle that was A Cuo.

“Here.”

He offered her the strange little roof tile again. This time, A Cuo accepted it. Slowly, she walked back with Yang Hua toward the small gate of the Ye residence.

As she reached the steps, she suddenly heard Wei Yushan call, “A Cuo.”

She looked back.

The eighteen-year-old young general stood in the snow, smiling at her.

“May you be safe and well in the New Year, A Cuo,” he said solemnly. “May you enjoy health and longevity, and may everything go as you wish.”

“And the same to you,” A Cuo replied.