Chapter 2872: Romance

Fu Er'yin had been leaning against the ornately carved, multicolored pillar in the back building's corridor for quite some time. Today had been his morning shift. After finishing his clinic duties and changing clothes, he had grabbed two packages and made his way to the back door of Ziming Tower. The gatekeeper recognized this "cadre" in his four-pocket jacket as a doctor from Bairen General Hospital—one who came to the building for "rounds" every month. Without requiring any greeting, the gatekeeper bowed and ushered him inside with practiced deference.

Fu Er'yin settled into a corner of the corridor, just as he had arranged with Qingruo. This was the most secluded spot in all of Ziming Tower. Beneath his feet, insects chirped among the flower bushes, and the intoxicating fragrance of gardenias hung thick in the air. The evening wind carried faint sounds of laughter and music from the front building—it might as well have been another world. Just today, he had officially become a clinic physician at Bairen General Hospital. His monthly salary and allowances were now enough to support a family. After saving for another year and borrowing a bit here and there, he would have roughly enough for a down payment. Of course, if he were willing to ask his father, none of this would be an issue. His parents, though incredibly stingy in most matters, were still generous when it came to their children's major life events.

Thinking of "major life events," his heart swelled with sweetness. He only wondered what Qingruo thought. Surely she had no objections... At this thought, his fingers tightened around the object in his pocket, as if the pressure might grant him some reassurance.

His thoughts drifted back to a year ago, when he had been a trainee rotating through the clinic. Once, he was dispatched to Ziming Tower for an emergency house call to treat a wealthy merchant complaining of "chest pains." The merchant turned out to be fine; Fu Er'yin prescribed some calming medicine, gave instructions, and prepared to leave. Just as he was passing through the bustling front hall, he glimpsed in a corner a girl in attendant's clothing crouching on the ground. She was carefully pressing a clean cloth against the hand of a young maid who had been cut by a broken wine glass, murmuring words of comfort. With practiced movements, she took a small bottle of wound medicine and bandages from her own pouch and began dressing the wound. Her focused and gentle profile stood utterly apart from the surrounding flashiness, instantly capturing his attention.

Perhaps sensing his gaze, the girl looked up and met his eyes, nodding with a politeness that remained deliberately distant. In that moment, Fu Er'yin felt as if the surrounding clamor had suddenly fallen silent. He saw only her clear eyes, still as water. Later, he learned she was Miss Qingruo—the one Senator Pei valued so highly at Ziming Tower, specifically transferred from Guangzhou to manage the singing troupe. Not an ordinary attendant at all.

Their real connection began with an accident. Qingruo, preparing for an important banquet, had been exhausted from days of work. Combined with a slight cold, she nearly fainted at the stairwell—and happened to be caught by Fu Er'yin, who was there again for rounds. He professionally checked her forehead temperature and observed her complexion, then told her directly that she needed rest and medicine. At first, Qingruo only thanked him politely, thinking nothing of it. But the next day, when Fu Er'yin wasn't on duty, he still remembered her pallid appearance and specifically had an acquaintance among the staff deliver a package of mild cold-dispersing medicine he had prepared himself, along with detailed instructions for taking it.

If one were to speak of men trying to please her, there were at least twenty if not fifty. But this medicine contained only a healer's benevolence and a friend's concern.

Perhaps it was precisely this respect and sincerity that opened Qingruo's heart. From then on, after Fu Er'yin finished work, the two would occasionally share brief conversations in this secluded corridor. He discovered she wasn't merely gentle on the surface; when discussing how to care for voices or arrange repertoires, her eyes would flash with lively brilliance. Her conversation revealed genuine insight—nothing like the crude greed he had imagined of women in such establishments.

At the corner of the corridor, light footsteps approached. The clear tinkling of silver bells and pendants unique to Ziming Tower's female attendants pulled Fu Er'yin back to reality.

"Sister Qing!" Fu Er'yin recognized Qingruo's graceful figure from afar and called out eagerly.

"Brother Er'yin." Qingruo's flushed cheeks could not hide her inner joy. Her steps quickened, the bells dancing merrily like playful notes on a distant pipa. But as she drew near, she seemed to hesitate again, the tinkling growing fine and small, betraying a young girl's shyness.

The two gazed at each other, standing quietly face to face. Even the insects at their feet seemed to fall silent...

The crescent moon had climbed to the tip of the willow branches without anyone noticing. The crickets by the green stones once again struck up their huqin.

"Sister Qing." The two sat side by side on the wooden railing. Watching Qingruo lower her head to play with the hem of her skirt, Fu Er'yin spoke up.

"Mm?" Qingruo raised her head. Her eyes, like black jade, were crystal clear in the moonlight.

"My training period is over. I've been officially assigned to Bairen General Hospital." Pride colored Fu Er'yin's words. He was among the first batch of doctors trained through the Senate's medical system's 3+2 program. Though this cohort's initial education was only national middle school graduation, they were genuine "full-time," "complete-process" graduates.

"Really?! Congratulations, Brother Er'yin! That's wonderful!" Qingruo jumped with joy.

"Mm!" Fu Er'yin nodded emphatically, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Qingruo took Fu Er'yin's hand. "Brother Er'yin, I'm truly, truly happy for you." Suddenly, she seemed to realize what she had done. She quickly withdrew her hand, a cloud of red rising to her cheeks. The soft moonlight filled her cute little dimples, veiling her in silver radiance.

Fu Er'yin opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words. He could only speak deliberately, word by word: "Sister Qing. Don't worry. From now on, I'll work hard following the Chiefs. I'll definitely be able to give you a good life!"

Qingruo's pretty eyes glistened, moist enough to spill over. She said slowly: "Brother Er'yin, I know you can do it. It's just..." Her brow furrowed slightly, words dying on her lips.

"Just what? Sister Qing, if you have any troubles, just tell me." Fu Er'yin saw her worried expression and asked anxiously.

"Just..." Qingruo bit her lip. "Just that I'm afraid I'm not good enough for Brother Er'yin."

"How could that be!" Fu Er'yin was greatly alarmed.

"Brother Er'yin, you're a cadre under the Chiefs now, but I'm still just... just doing this. If others found out, they'd laugh at you." Qingruo bit her lip, leaving a pale mark.

"Sister Qing." Fu Er'yin gently straightened her posture and gazed into her eyes, speaking solemnly: "I don't care. What's wrong with this! You're also working under the Chiefs. If we're upright, we don't fear others' gossip." At this, he steadied himself and fished a small box from his pocket. The box was covered in black velvet, very delicate. Fu Er'yin carefully opened it. In the moonlight, a silver ring stood upright inside, a gem cut in a diamond shape refracting brilliant light at its crown—a product of Zicheng Jewelry, a beautifully crafted silver ring set with precision-cut glass from Lingao Glass Factory. In this era, it was indeed gorgeous, and since the materials weren't precious, the price was completely acceptable for a middle-class family. Fu Er'yin picked up the ring and gently took Qingruo's slender hand, about to slip the ring onto her finger.

The instant the silver ring touched Qingruo's fingertip, she jerked back her hand as if scalded. The delicate ring slipped from her fingers and landed with a soft clink on the wooden railing between them. The glass "diamond" flashed a mocking glint in the moonlight.

"Brother Er'yin... I can't accept it..." Qingruo's voice held an imperceptible tremor. She lowered her head, not daring to look at Fu Er'yin's suddenly frozen expression, nor at the disbelief and disappointment flooding his eyes. That moment in the front hall earlier, when Mi Yijing had recounted their "old flame," had been like cold, dirty water splashed across her heart. Now, facing Fu Er'yin's pure devotion, she felt even more ashamed.

"Why?" Fu Er'yin's voice was tight. He picked up the ring and gripped it in his palm, the metal edges digging painfully into his flesh. "Sister Qing, I know you might think that working at Ziming Tower, some people will gossip. But we work for the Senate, earning our keep with our abilities. What's not respectable about that? I don't care!" His tone grew urgent, trying to dispel the gloom in her eyes. "I'm a regular doctor at the General Hospital now. Good salary. In another half year, we can make a down payment and have our own little home. Sister Qing, I truly want to marry you and give you a good life!"

"A good life..." Qingruo murmured, repeating the words. How could she not long for it? Fu Er'yin was steady, ambitious, and treated her with complete sincerity—a rare warmth in this cold world. But the more she yearned for this warmth, the more she feared. If he knew she had once been the top girl at Guangzhou's Lotus Fragrance Court, had been "combed" to become someone's kept woman, had been extravagantly "supported" by wastrels like Mi Yijing—would his eyes still hold this devotion? Even if he remained devoted, his Fu family was now new gentry in Lingao. How would Fu Bu'er ever allow his son to marry a woman like her? And Fu Bu'er had been at tonight's banquet too. All this beauty would shatter to dust, and even Fu Er'yin's future could be dragged down by her disgraceful past.

"Brother Er'yin, you... you're too good." She raised her eyes, moisture glinting in them yet full of struggle. "But I... I'm truly not good enough for you. You're a cadre valued by the Senate, a doctor, with a limitless future. While I... I'm just a tavern attendant, welcoming and seeing off guests... We're not well-matched."

"This talk again!" Fu Er'yin was growing vexed. He didn't understand why Qingruo kept using these worldly views to draw a chasm between them. "What does 'well-matched' even mean! I value you as a person! You're clever, resilient; you manage things at Ziming Tower better than many men! The Senate talks about 'breaking old customs' and 'everyone is equal.' Why should we still care about those old ways?"

He tried again to take Qingruo's hand, wanting to put the ring on. His tone softened, carrying a note of pleading: "Sister Qing, don't think so much, please? Trust me this once."

But Qingruo, like a startled rabbit, suddenly stood and stepped back, creating distance between them. The evening wind stirred her skirt hem; the bells tinkled, no longer merry. "Brother Er'yin, you don't understand... Some things aren't as simple as you think." She thought of Mi Yijing's determined eyes, of those gentry's leisurely expressions as they watched the show, and a chill rose from her feet. "Let's... let's just stay as we are."

"Stay as we are?" Fu Er'yin rose as well, his face full of confusion and disappointment. "What does that mean? Sneaking around, never seeing the light of day? Qingruo, what I want is a proper marriage, to be with you honestly and openly! What exactly are you afraid of?"

She raised her eyes, her face straining to maintain an almost professional smile. "Brother Er'yin, your feelings, I... I'm deeply grateful." Her words came carefully, as if handling a thorny matter of business. "Your future is bright; you're valued by the Senate. A woman with a clean background and upright character would be a proper match. I... I'm just an ordinary attendant at Ziming Tower. To catch your eye is already an unexpected joy. I dare not have any presumptuous thoughts."

She paused, as if making some resolution. Her gaze fell to the shadow at her feet, her voice soft as a sigh yet utterly decisive: "In the future, you'll meet a better person—well-matched, living in harmony. When that time comes... if you still remember me and let me serve you, I'll be content. Anything else... I've never dared hope for, and... can't afford."

"You... what are you saying?!" Fu Er'yin recoiled as if struck by lightning. He had offered his whole heart, wanting a proper marriage, yet she said such words. This was more confusing and infuriating than outright rejection. "Qingruo! What I want is to be with you properly, to grow old together! What kind of person do you take me for?!"

Qingruo finally raised her eyes and gazed at him directly. Under the moonlight, her face was somewhat pale, yet her expression was extraordinarily resolute, even carrying a calm finality. "Brother Er'yin, some roads, once started wrong, can never be taken back. What you can give me, I cannot bear; what I give you... you can bear even less..." She drew a deep breath. "Let's leave it at this. As long as you don't despise me, I'll always be your Qingruo. But this ring, please take it back for someone who should wear it."

She suddenly turned and stumbled away, lifting her skirts, leaving only a string of scattered, receding bells.

Fu Er'yin reached out in vain, grasping only a handful of cold night wind. He stood frozen in place, staring at the lantern-lit corner where Qingruo had disappeared. The ring in his palm was cold—just like his heart at this moment. He didn't understand why a year of flawless feelings had ended so abruptly, nor why the future he had planned appeared to her as nothing but darkness. The evening wind continued. The insects continued. The intoxicating flower fragrance continued. But that momentary warmth had been utterly crushed by pain and confusion. This engagement declaration he had long anticipated had fallen apart over irreconcilable contradictions and deeply hidden secrets.

(End of Chapter)