Page 5 of Silk and Sensibility

Ailin waved for Begonia to give him one of their umbrellas in exchange. Begonia gave Ailin the second box of silver, and then opened the umbrellas.

“Here you go, Master Fan,” Begonia said as she handed him an umbrella Ailin had painted long ago with her favorite apricot blossoms and swallows. Seeing such a delicate floral design carried by a man was jarring at first, but somehow the composition worked. Ailin couldn’t help but notice that Fan Enze balanced masculine energy with scholarly gentleness quite well.

He offered his thanks, and the rain began to pour.

Ailin was glad that the umbrella he had handed her was large enough to cover the books, but she felt sorry that her smaller umbrella only left him half protected.

Rain soaked the right side of his clothing as he walked, but he didn’t complain. He was proving tougher than he appeared at first glance, and her respect for him tentatively increased.

Soon, the forest gave way to a more open road as the familiar gingko tree and bamboo fence came into view. Widening the entrance to Nuolan Garden had been one of Junyou’s first estate improvement projects after he’d come home for mourning. While Father had enjoyed the secluded location of their residence, Junyou wanted a clearer approach to the estate that would allow more space for carriages once their mourning period ended.

As the tree cover thinned, the chance of being seen grew higher. Being caught outside would be enough to cause trouble but being caught with Fan Enze would be even worse. Fulan had warned them to stay away from her brother when he was a mere abstraction. Now that he was here in the flesh, it was more important than ever for Ailin to keep her distance. It was time to go their separate ways.

Fan Enze’s eyes were locked on the path ahead, focusing on safe navigation rather than her glances at him. Ailin hesitated; raising her voice to be heard above the sound of the falling rain was uncouth, but to catch his attention without shouting might require physical contact. As the bamboo fence of Nuolan Garden came into view, she rallied her courage and tapped his shoulder.

“Can you let us off here, sir? The front gate of Nuolan Garden is up ahead, but we need to go through the back entrance for servants.”

Even as the rain intensified, Fan Enze did as he was asked, moving efficiently and without question. Ailin’s gratitude toward him grew.

Water poured from the sky so hard that communication was difficult. Begonia took the two boxes of silver so Ailin could dismount more easily. Through the downpour, Ailin had to be careful to protect the books while exchanging spots with Fan Enze. It was a tricky process that required all her mental faculties.

By the time Ailin reached Nuolan Garden’s back gate with Begonia and their boxes of silver, she realized she had not expressed her gratitude to Fan Enze before they parted ways.

The memory of his warm hand flashed in her mind, and a twinge of regret pulled at her as she gazed back to the spot where they had separated.

Stop being silly.

The sensible side of her recognized that not exchanging farewells was for the best.

The fewer words Ailin exchanged with Fan Enze, the less chances for conflict. During his visit to Nuolan Garden, he would stay wherever Fulan put guests, and Ailin would hide in the inner courtyard reserved for the young ladies of the house. She would never disturb him again, just like Fulan wanted. Hiding her identity from him had been the right thing to do. He did not know her name, and their paths would not cross again.

When she looked up, however, she saw that she was still holding his umbrella.

諾蘭園隱藏秘密。小姐扮成仆人必有原因。

彷彿仙女下凡，敲動了我的凡心。

Nuolan Garden holds secrets. A young lady who pretends to be someone she is not must have her reasons. A goddess among mortals may appear in disguise to test men’s hearts. Though I cannot fathom her thoughts, I do wonder about them. She seldom leaves my mind.

—Unsent letter from Fan Enze to Fan Ruoze

Chapter 2

Meilin

When Ailin came through the back gate of Nuolan Garden with an umbrella that was plainer than any of the umbrellas their household owned, Meilin was certain her older sister had met a man. The umbrella was too old and weathered to have come from the house of a prosperous merchant like Uncle Chen. Meilin did not need much evidence beyond the undecorated umbrella because her mind was driven by intuition honed from years of reading romance novels and plays.

Ailin often critiqued Meilin’s ideas as being too easily swayed by “low-class books,” but Meilin knew there was truth in fiction. If stories did not reflect a reality people believed in, then why would they be so popular? If the ideas in those stories could be so easily dismissed as false, why did some people copy hundreds of chapters by hand while others hid or burned them? Meilin had learned plenty from works beyond the Four Books and Five Classics, and everything she had learned told her that something interesting—and possibly romantic—had happened to Ailin. She could hardly wait to find out what it was.

Leaving her zither in the sheltered pavilion where she had been playing, Meilin ran out in the rain to meet her sister and Begonia.

“Where did you get the umbrella?” Meilin asked as she moved under its protection.

“I’ll tell you later,” Ailin replied as she handed over the box she was carrying.

Meilin looked down at the unmarked box, which was heavier than she expected. “What is in here?”

“How is Mother’s condition?” Ailin purposefully changed the topic.