Setting the painting aside, Lu Zheng picked up his brush again and created another artwork, a portrait of a lady in a peach grove.
The background featured a peach tree, thick enough to embrace, with a lady beneath it. She wore a flowing, rose-pink phoenix-tailed silk dress and a gold hairpin adorned with a hundred emerald sparrows. Her lips and eyelids were touched with pink, her eyes like clear water, gazing out of the painting.
It was the very image of Shen Ying as she appeared in Lu Zheng’s dream that night.
One mustn’t play favourites, after all!
The next day, Lu Zheng sent both paintings to be framed, taking them to a modern shop to avoid any mishaps, with strict instructions for traditional mounting.
After some thought, he returned to the ancient world and bought a blank thread-bound book from a bookstore.
…
Two days passed in a flash.
The Qiqiao Festival arrived as expected.
Early in the morning, Lu Zheng could already hear the bustling crowds outside.
On this rare festival, farmers from nearby villages brought their goods to town, joining the lively celebrations.
“Brother Lu! Are you there? My sister invites you to go shopping!”
“I’m here!”
Lu Zheng stepped out, spotting the Liu Qingyan sisters waiting at the door.
Today, Liu Qingyan wore a simple water-green silk dress, her hair tied up with a plain copper hairpin. Without makeup, her natural beauty shone even brighter.
Indeed, after Lu Zheng’s praise the other day, her outfit perfectly matched that poetic line.
“Lu Lang.”
“Miss Liu.”
“It’s a busy market day in the county, so I must trouble you to accompany us.”
“My pleasure!”
Liu Qingyan’s eyes curved into a smile as she pulled Liu Qingxuan along, walking ahead.
Lu Zheng smiled, quickening his pace to follow just behind her.
As the trio left Tongyi Lane, Old Man Liu and his wife peeked cautiously from the doorway.
“That girl Qingyan, she’s fallen hard.”
“What’s there to fear? Lu Lang seems decent.”
“But what if he learns the truth and isn’t willing?”
“He won’t mind, he said so himself…”
“That’s just talk! Look at him, skilled in martial arts, talented in literature, and a successful cultivator with a bright future. He’ll surely rise to prominence. How could he marry her?
Even if Qingyan settles for being a concubine, what if the future main wife makes life hard for her?”
“Then what? Move again?”
“Sigh, I don’t know…”
“Let it be. The young will find their own way. I see Lu Lang isn’t chasing titles or wealth, but rather a carefree life.”
“I hope so. As long as Qingyan is happy, I’ll be content.”
“Don’t worry, it’s still better than marrying her to that scoundrel!”
“Pah! What nonsense! Even if Qingyan becomes a concubine to Lu Lang, we can’t let her fall into a pit like that!”
“Exactly! It’s settled then. It’s a busy festival day, who knows what might happen. I’m off to the clinic.”
“Go on, take care. I’ll bring lunch at noon.”
…
On the streets, it felt like everyone from miles around had poured into the city.
With Lu Zheng by Liu Qingyan’s side, he fended off several eager young scholars.
“So many people!”
“Yes, yes, and so much delicious food!”
Liu Qingxuan held an osmanthus cake in one hand and a string of candied haws in the other, her eyes already locked on a cart selling sugar figurines.
Lu Zheng and Liu Qingyan paused, watching a troupe of acrobats nearby.
Fire-breathing!
Juggling!
Tumbling!
Stilt-walking!
Breaking stones on their chests!
Throwing knives blindfolded!
It was thrilling, and Liu Qingyan gasped repeatedly.
During the blindfolded knife-throwing, she covered her eyes, nearly burrowing into Lu Zheng’s arms.
When the performance ended, Liu Qingyan stepped aside, cheeks flushed, while Lu Zheng, grinning, tossed the acrobats a handful of extra coins.
Well done! A tip for you!
As they continued, Liu Qingyan and Lu Zheng strolled, nibbling snacks and watching performances, passing pairs of scholars and ladies walking together.
By nearly noon, they were still wandering.
“Let’s go to Yuling Garden. There’s a play this afternoon, and we can have lunch there. If we’re late, the good seats will be gone,” Liu Qingyan said, her tone carrying a rare hint of coyness.
“No problem!”
…
They booked a private room, ordered four dishes and a soup, and Lu Zheng watched from the window as crowds streamed in.
“Goodness, I never knew Tonglin County had so many people.”
“It’s Yuling Garden’s signature play, and it’s Qiqiao Festival. Of course it’s crowded,” Liu Qingyan replied.
“What play?”
“Brother Lu, you really don’t care for theatre,” Liu Qingxuan said, her mouth stuffed full, somehow still ravenous, “It’s *Dongling Spring*, a story of a scholar and a beauty.”
Well, aside from the title, that was obvious.
On Qiqiao Festival, what else but a romance play? Even in Lu Zheng’s modern world, Valentine’s Day meant love stories.
They finished lunch quickly. Yuling Garden cleared the dishes, served fragrant tea and snacks, and Lu Zheng sipped leisurely, noticing the stage below being set with tables and chairs for the performance.
Then, for the entire afternoon, Lu Zheng watched, bewildered, as the melodramatic play unfolded from start to finish.
A classic poor scholar and rich lady pairing.
A classic misunderstanding to start.
A classic display of talent and beauty.
A classic love at first sight and lovesick pining.
A classic separation by force and a classic friend’s aid.
A classic rise for the scholar and fall for the lady.
Finally, a classic turn of aid, a classic devotion, and a classic happy ending for the lovers.
What can one say? From ancient China to the modern day, many story formulas remain unchanged.
But while the formula is familiar, the characters, plot, and twists reveal the creator’s skill.
Take *The Romance of the Western Chamber*, for instance, it follows a similar formula but is a classic. This play, however, felt to Lu Zheng like it was just passable.
Glancing at Liu Qingyan’s perfect profile, he wondered if he should bring her some modern romance novels.
On second thought, better not tempt fate.
…
At early shen hour, the play ended, and the Liu sisters stretched, still savouring the moment.
“Lu Lang.”
“Hm?”
“My mother cooked pork and chicken today and asked me to invite you for dinner,” Liu Qingyan said, feigning nonchalance.
“Sounds good,” Lu Zheng smiled, “Let’s head to Benevolent Heart Hall and go back with Uncle Liu.”
“Excellent!”
…
The trio, plus their little tagalong, waited a bit before heading downstairs, avoiding the surging crowd, and strolled toward Benevolent Heart Hall on East Street.
But as they reached the clinic’s door, a young voice cried out from inside, “Please, doctor, save my mother! I’ll kowtow to you!”
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
Lu Zheng and Liu Qingyan exchanged a glance, hurrying inside, with Liu Qingxuan trailing behind, peeking into the room.
“Eh, it’s you!”
