Morning light drifted gently like thin gauze over the dark tiles and white walls, veiling the Jiangnan water town in a mist that made it look like an unfinished ink-wash painting. Shen Mingyue pushed open the carved lattice window; the moist air rushed in, carrying the fragrance of damp earth and fresh grass, mingled with the sweet scent of osmanthus cake drifting from the early morning market. In the courtyard, the rain from the previous night had left crystal-clear dewdrops clinging to begonia petals, refracting the morning sun into iridescent halos like scattered diamonds. She draped a moon-white cloak over her shoulders and stepped barefoot onto the bluestone path, polished bright by the rain. The chill rising from the stone felt remarkably pleasant, as if every step were treading into the very tenderness of Jiangnan.
The brass bell at the corner of the eaves chimed melodiously in the breeze. Gu Jinghong was already waiting under the veranda, holding an exquisite brass kettle. The lotus pattern carved into its surface was lifelike, and the spout was wrapped in a soft cloth to prevent burns when pouring. The sharpness he had once worn on the battlefield had faded from his eyes, replaced by a gentle, leisurely calm. His dark cyan robe, embroidered with delicate orchids—a pattern Shen Mingyue had stitched herself—made him appear as warm and polished as jade. "The rain last night must have left these flowers thirsty," he said with a smile, his voice as soothing as the spring…
Chapter 139