The late spring villa was bathed in golden sunlight. A wall of climbing roses cascaded down like a waterfall, staining the bluestone path a pale, delicate pink. Jiang Wan sat on a swing, listening to the creaking of the spool in Lu Jingyuan's hands, the hem of her skirt brushing gently against the fallen petals on the ground. Suddenly, the sound of a carriage coming to a halt reached them from outside the courtyard, followed immediately by Liu Shiyao’s deliberately raised, ringing voice: "Oh, isn't this cousin's black horse?"
Lu Jingyuan’s hand, clutching the spool, paused. He exchanged a glance with Jiang Wan. Liu Shiyao appeared, dressed in a peach-colored cloud-brocade skirt, the jade hairpin in her hair trembling slightly with each step—the very same one Jiang Wan had given her two days prior. She walked gracefully into the courtyard, her gaze lingering for a fleeting second on the pair's interlocking fingers before she broke into a sweet smile. "What a coincidence. I had just finished delivering silk to my aunt and was passing by when I happened upon cousin and Miss Jiang."
Jiang Wan’s gaze swept over the empty carriage behind her, and she let out a soft laugh. "Miss Liu is truly a paragon of filial piety. But since the carriage curtains are drawn so tightly, could it be that all the silk vanished into thin air?"
Chapter 100