Chapter 13: Fragrance-less

Wisps of smoke rose from the Boshan incense burner, curling like white threads, swaying and swirling in an endless, meandering dance.

Watching this scene, Chun Yue thought to herself that the incense used in the manor was always colorless but fragrant, whereas the new Young Mistress’s spices were colored but scentless.

They must be rather poor-quality spices.

"Young Mistress, I see your spices are running low," she asked. "What scents do you prefer? I shall go to the manor to fetch some."

The Marchioness did not like this daughter-in-law, but the Young Mistress was always given the treatment she deserved; her food, clothing, and daily necessities were provided according to the established quotas, and no one would stand in her way.

Zhuang Li was lowering her head to close the spice box. Hearing this, she shook her head. "No need, I only use the incense I make myself." At this, she gave Chun Yue a small smile. "When they are used up, help me fetch some ingredients."

Everyone has their own little quirks. Chun Yue smiled and complied, watching as Zhuang Li unfurled the scroll on the table, knowing it was time for her to write.

"Young Mistress, let me grind the ink for you," Chun Yue offered.

Zhuang Li shook her head. "I will do it myself." She paused for a moment to explain, "I can control exactly how much I use."

Or rather, Chun Yue had already noticed that she used very little each time; she would only write a few words, like a child just beginning to learn, yet the Young Mistress’s calligraphy was actually quite beautiful.

The Young Mistress’s habits were truly strange. Chun Yue said no more and simply complied.

"You may go and rest," Zhuang Li continued.

Knowing that she did not like to be disturbed while writing, Chun Yue said nothing more and withdrew.

Xue Liu was sitting in the front courtyard. Two young maids were kneeling beside her, painting her nails, while Chun Hong and Chun Xiang sat nearby chatting. Seeing Chun Yue come out, Xue Liu curled her lip.

"I told you there was no need for service, but you just wouldn't listen, and now you've been kicked out, haven't you?" she said. "She is a woman of few words, raised in a small, modest household; she's used to looking after herself. If you try to serve her, she'll only feel uncomfortable."

Chun Yue offered a forced smile. "The Young Mistress is about to write. Scholars and literati generally do not wish to be disturbed when reading or writing. Even when the Heir was home, he wouldn't allow anyone to serve him..."

Comparing the Heir to this woman made Xue Liu unhappy. She interrupted Chun Yue, "What 'writing' or 'scholars'? She’s only written half of *A Wandering Beyond the World* since she arrived here. If you ask me, she can't even write; she's just putting on an act..."

Xue Liu had also received an education; she was literate and even knew what the new Young Mistress was writing about.

What was there to boast about regarding literacy, acting as if she were writing every single day?

Xue Liu pulled her hand back, looked at the color on her nails, and tossed her hand aside irritably.

"What kind of tacky pattern is this? It's hideous. Wash it off for me."

The little maids hurriedly complied.

Chun Hong gave Chun Yue a meaningful look, and Chun Yue didn't dare speak again.

"And those books she borrowed from the Heir's study—I saw she only flipped through a single page," Xue Liu said, looking at Chun Yue. "Watch her closely. Don't let them get lost or damaged. The Heir is a true scholar; many of the items in his study are precious treasures. It would be a tragedy to waste them."

Chun Yue squeezed out a smile. "Yes, I will keep an eye on them. Rest assured, Sister."

Zhuang Li did not hear the words of the maids outside; she was focused on her writing.

Although she had not been here long, and although navigating unfamiliar social circles was inevitable, her life was generally quite good—quiet and peaceful.

The white smoke in the Boshan burner continued to meander on the table, still a single line, but because it was continuous, it seemed to transform into countless lines.

Countless white threads wrapped around Zhuang Li as she sat before the desk.

Her vision seemed obstructed by the smoke. She had to focus even more intently on the paper before her. The brush in her hand felt heavy, rising slowly and falling slowly. With this single motion, perspiration began to seep from the tip of her nose. As she moved stroke by stroke, more sweat emerged, soon coating her nose and forehead in a dense, shimmering layer.

After an unknown amount of time, the incense in the burner burned out. The entwined white lines gradually faded and then dissipated.

Zhuang Li watched the final stroke land, exhaled softly, and studied the paper on the desk. She had finally finished writing *A Wandering Beyond the World*.

She lifted her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her nose and forehead, then looked out the window. The sun was already setting in a slant of crimson light.

"Chun Yue," she called out.

As if in a courtyard that had been silent and empty, footsteps immediately rang out, accompanied by a crisp female response.

"Young Mistress, have you finished writing?" Chun Yue walked in, asking with a beaming smile.

Looking at that smiling face, Zhuang Li couldn't help but smile back. "Yes, I'm finished."

Chun Yue walked over and looked at the paper filled with characters. "The Young Mistress writes so beautifully."

"It's enough just to be able to write them," Zhuang Li said. "Whether they are beautiful or not doesn't matter."

True, she was, after all, a lady of a private household, not someone seeking official rank. Being able to read and write was more than enough. Chun Yue nodded with a smile. "Young Mistress, it is time for your meal."

Night gradually shrouded the earth. The eaves and the courtyard fell into darkness, while the interior of the room remained brightly lit. Chun Yue led the maids to check the window screens one by one to ensure no mosquitoes would intrude.

"Young Mistress, where were you sitting to read?" Chun Yue asked.

These past few days, Zhuang Li had been reading for a while before bed, though as Xue Liu had said, she hadn't turned many pages in all those days.

Summer nights were long. The Heir was not home, and there was no need to attend to the Marchioness. Being alone, she was simply passing the time.

Zhuang Li shook her head. "I won't read tonight." She gave Chun Yue another smile. "I need to save my strength to have a dream tonight."

In truth, the new Young Mistress was not a woman of few words; she would even take the time to explain herself. Chun Yue laughed. "To have a good dream? Then you truly must save your strength."

When people are in an unfamiliar place, they cannot sleep soundly, let alone dream. It seemed the Young Mistress had finally adjusted to this place.

Chun Yue extinguished the lights in the room one by one. She watched as Zhuang Li, now changed into white gauze undergarments, hung the finished calligraphy by the window.

Even if she wasn't a great writer, she must still be quite fond of her own work. Chun Yue couldn't help but smile. "Young Mistress, let me help you."

Zhuang Li did not refuse her help, and the two of them hung the scroll by the flower stand near the window.

Zhuang Li then relit the Boshan burner.

Unlike the incense used during the day, Chun Yue saw no smoke rising, yet there was still no scent.

"Young Mistress, call me if you need anything." Chun Yue did not ask further and set down the night lamp. "I am on duty tonight in the eastern side room."

The cold moonlight moved through the courtyard like gentle flowing water, gradually crossing the rockery and flowers to climb the window frame. The night wind followed, blowing against the hanging scroll. The moonlight took the opportunity to slip inside, striking the scroll. A clear, ethereal sound seemed to ring out in the wind; as if struck, a single character on the scroll shattered, emitting a fluorescent glow.

The moonlight seemed to have found a playful game, pouncing in continuously. One character after another shattered like dancing fireflies, filling the room and falling upon the hanging bed curtains like shimmering stars.

Zhuang Li snapped her eyes open.

Her blurred vision caught glimpses of flickering lights—those were the lanterns hanging in the streets. There seemed to be people walking around, the sound of laughter and clamor, yet it all felt as if it were covered by a veil; she could neither see clearly nor hear distinctly. Then, suddenly, the sound of a drum drifted from the distance. The sound vibrated, tearing through the misty veil, and the bustling shadows of people rushed toward her.

"The curfew has arrived!"

"Quick, let's go, let's go!"

A peddler carrying a shoulder pole ran out from an alley, heading straight for Zhuang Li, only to pass right through her the next moment.

Zhuang Li turned her head to look back. Seeing the peddler running into the distance and the crowds on the street dispersing, the drumbeats of the curfew echoed one after another.

In the blink of an eye, the people and the bustle of the street vanished, returning to the dimness and stillness she had experienced when she first opened her eyes.

So real, yet so illusory.

Zhuang Li looked at this street and recognized it; this was the path one took when entering the Dongyang Marquis Manor from outside the capital.

The Dongyang Marquis Manor was located in the western suburbs of the capital, not the city center.

How far could her dream extend?

Could she walk to the place she intended to go?

She lifted her foot and began to walk forward.

(End of Chapter)