Page 13 of Silk and Sensibility

Realizing that perhaps she sounded defensive or miserly, Ailin amended, “I mean, I could lend him some of Father’s old books, but wouldn’t that be meddlesome? We’re not close, and I wouldn’t want to interfere with his studies.”

“How can you call help ‘interference’? Junyou hardly has time to mentor Enze since he has to manage Heli and the estate. And of course, Fulan is incapable of helping with anything scholarly. You don’t have an aversion to Enze because he’s Fulan’s brother, do you?”

Ailin set her brush down on a porcelain brush holder. How was she supposed to respond? Even in Mother’s rationale for why she wanted Ailin to help Fan Enze, she essentially acknowledged that he was Junyou and Fulan’s responsibility. As for whether Ailin was trying to avoid the man, the reality was complicated.

Ailin did not dislike him. In fact, she feared that interacting with him would make her like him more than she already did, a danger Mother did not yet suspect. The fluttering Ailin felt in her stomach when she thought of him was shameful. She never felt less in control over her mind and body than when he was near.

“Fulan asked us to stay out of each other’s way,” she answered carefully.

Mother scoffed. “That woman’s outlook is as narrow as the bottom of a well. She treats family like enemies instead of people who help each other.”

“But Fan Enze isn’t really family.”

Mother gasped. “My child, what does family mean to you?”

Ailin pressed her lips together. There was no arguing with Mother when she was emotional like this. Family was the group of people one had duties to protect, not an unrelated young man who happened to be pleasant.

“Enze is Heli’s uncle, and Heli is your father’s only grandson. For me, that’s enough of a connection to want to help, but there’s more. Heli loves us, and he loves his uncle. Isn’t that chain of love significant?”

As a widow and grandmother, Mother could talk to just about anyone she pleased without suspicion of impropriety, but that was not the case for an unmarried young woman like Ailin.

“Is it proper for me to talk to that man?” she asked.

A breeze ruffled the paper on the table. Mother smoothed it out with her hand and rearranged the bronze paperweight at the end of the sheet. “Enze is a kind and honest boy who could benefit from your help. You don’t have to treat him like an outsider. Lǐ and yì are both among the five cardinal virtues. Propriety is meant to help us live more nobly. As long as you have integrity in your heart, helping a good man cannot be wrong.”

Fan Enze sat on a boulder in an obscure corner of the family’s bamboo garden, the profile of his face clear-cut above the copy of the Classic of Poetry he held in his hands. Absorbed in his book, he looked harmless.

Yet Ailin’s nerves still twitched like a fawn in a forest. Mother had asked her to help him, and Ailin also owed him for the day in the rain, but the conviction that she was doing a good deed didn’t make her any less apprehensive. Regardless of her intentions, he was still a man, and she was still a woman. Being caught alone together could be scandalous. At the very least, Fulan would be angry.

As Ailin considered how to get Fan Enze’s attention, the sun peeked through a cloud, bouncing light off the single silver pin in her hair and onto the garden wall. Fan Enze looked up at the light, stopping when their eyes met, making it too late for Ailin to back away without notice.

He hurriedly scrambled off the boulder, clearly confused by her presence. “May I help you, Miss Duan?”

Ailin could not believe she was approaching him after a week of concerted effort to do the opposite. “I, um, have something for you to read.”

“Oh?”

She held out a sewn paper book. “This contains some essays of past imperial exam passers. I thought it might help with your studies.”

He carefully took the volume out of her hands, slow enough to show respect, deliberate enough to avoid brushing her skin. She didn’t know if she was disappointed or relieved.

His eyes grew wide as he turned the pages. “These essays are by the first-ranked scholars of the palace exams of more than twenty years ago. How do you have them?”

Ailin smiled. His recognition of the essays’ authors meant that he was knowledgeable enough to appreciate their content. Lending the precious book to him might be worth the risk of upsetting Fulan. “Scholars Luó, Chéng, and Yáng were colleagues of my father when he worked at the Hanlin Academy. He kept their essays because they were friends.”

“This book is from your father’s personal collection?” Fan Enze’s voice lilted up in surprise.

“Well . . .” The book was actually from Ailin’s dowry, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Father had meant for her to share it only with her future husband, but she was letting Fan Enze read it because of Mother’s request. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “It’s not much. Lending you the book was my mother’s idea. She’s grateful that you play wéiqí with Heli and Ming­ming so often.”

Fan Enze stared at the book as if he held a great treasure. “I’ve only done the bare minimum that a guest should do.”

Ailin was touched by his courteousness. Then she remembered her own debt to him. “I also want to thank you for keeping our first meeting secret. The way I hid my identity must have seemed strange.”

“I’m sure you had valid reasons.” As his eyes lingered on her face, the tint of concern he had shown at their first meeting crept into his expression again. “Was it because of my sister?”

Ailin tensed. “Why would you think that?”

If he sensed something amiss in Fulan’s relationship with the rest of the family, surely, as Fulan’s brother, he would take her side. The potential for conflict rose like humidity before a storm, making Ailin nervous.