Chapter 122: The Umbrella
When Yu Yeqing said this, there was not a trace of discomfort on his face, making Song Hemei even wonder if her own hesitation was being too bashful.
She paused, but in the end, she couldn't bear to refuse him. She could only lift her hand and gently rest it on his wrist bone, quickly stepping into the carriage.
Being in the carriage with him had not felt particularly awkward before, but after this incident, it truly stirred an indescribable strangeness in her heart. She sat upright and proper, originally intending to look over the account books, but now she found she couldn't even bring herself to move.
Neither of them spoke a word the entire journey. Song Hemei was too embarrassed to know how to break the silence. Just as they were about to arrive and she was getting ready to alight from the carriage, Yu Yeqing suddenly spoke: "I am of a taciturn nature; I am afraid I will only cause you difficulty, Miss."
Song Hemei was stunned for a moment, then instinctively responded politely: "It's fine, it's hardly any difficulty."
Yu Yeqing wore an apologetic expression, his voice low: "I have always been quiet, something my elders in the Capital disliked. Spending time with me, you must surely feel ill at ease, Miss."
Before he said this, Song Hemei had indeed felt that way.
But the moment he spoke those words, matched with his eyes that held guilt and wariness, all her original thoughts were replaced by pity.
"Lord Yu speaks too seriously; I am not ill at ease."
Yu Yeqing's long lashes fluttered, and beneath his lowered eyelids, a glint of disappointment seemed to pass: "Then why did you remain silent the whole way, Miss? I only hope I have not incurred your displeasure."
Seeing him like this, Song Hemei couldn't help but feel a bit dazed. She immediately explained: "No, I'm not displeased with you. I wasn't speaking earlier because... because I was thinking about other things. My apologies for being remiss, My Lord."
"Really? It is a relief that you do not dislike me, Miss." He conjured a faint smile. "I am but a few years older than you, Miss. There is no need for such formality. Please, just call me by my name."
Song Hemei was slightly surprised: "How could that be proper..."
Yu Yeqing fixed his gaze on her: "I am tasked with an inspection tour outside the Capital. It would not be appropriate to constantly flaunt my official title; it would inevitably carry the implication of using my position to pressure others."
Song Hemei's lashes trembled. Calling him by his given name was still something she couldn't bring herself to do. Since he had put it that way, she couldn't very well continue calling him 'My Lord'. She bit her lip, and finally called out only: "Young Master Yu."
The smile at the corners of Yu Yeqing's lips deepened. Meeting her gaze, he nodded.
Song Hemei inexplicably felt he was very happy, yet she had no idea what he was so happy about.
When they alighted from the carriage and strolled along the street, he went into a shop to briefly inspect the accounts while she waited in the carriage. She took him to buy things at small stores; whatever she suggested, he bought. Whatever she praised a little too much, he bought two portions, giving one of them to her, claiming it was a thank-you gift.
By the time they finally returned to the residence, servants were carrying numerous parcels behind her, following her back to her courtyard. Even Chunhui and Suhui, upon seeing her, crowded around to ask why she had bought so much.
Song Hemei herself didn't understand it—she was puzzled by his lavish generosity, puzzled by his inexplicable attitude. That night, even as she lay down to sleep, she dreamed of being in the carriage, seeing her own reflection in his beautiful eyes as he gave her that faint yet intimately close smile.
Upon waking, she couldn't help but feel some annoyance, which she was inclined to take out on him.
It was all his fault. What business did he have smiling like that for no reason?
Harboring these vague, unclear thoughts, she went to seek out her elder brother, probing him indirectly: "What is Lord Yu usually like as a person? Does he engage in romantic dalliances?"
Her brother had thoroughly investigated the backgrounds of all inspecting officials coming to Changzhou: "His personal affairs are perfectly clean. He has neither taken a wife nor kept any concubines, and when traveling, he never sets foot in places of ill repute. I suppose it's due to his background; no one in that family ever enlightened him on such matters."
Curious, Song Hemei followed up on the trail.
Her brother clicked his tongue twice: "Well, naturally, every child is cherished by its own parents, but a motherless child has no one to care for them. His birth mother was originally a chambermaid in Lord Lu's residence in the Capital. Somehow, she left the Capital and married into Changzhou, where she gave birth to him. When he was ten, his mother died, and he was taken back to the Capital by Lord Lu. But the main wife of the Lu residence in the Capital was still there, so how could she let him have a good life? I heard that when he first returned, he wasn't even allowed through the Lu residence gates. To this day, he lives in a separate residence. Luckily, the man himself is ambitious and accomplished..."
Song Hemei listened, stunned.
Perhaps some tragic backstories always cast a stubborn and upright glow upon a person, arousing sympathy in others. And by the time one realizes their attention has been captivated, it's already too late.
At first, when she encountered him in the residence, Song Hemei could still greet him composedly. But now, whenever they met, she felt a guilty conscience, as if she had stolen something. The moment she spotted him, she would hurry away.
She avoided him for several days. Then, one day, a light drizzle began to fall. She deliberately went to a path he usually took, pretending to just be passing by. Yet she saw he had no umbrella, not even a young attendant by his side, his clothes half-soaked by the rain.
She gripped her umbrella handle tightly. In the end, she still walked up to him and held the umbrella over him.
Meeting Yu Yeqing's eyes, which reflected surprise, almost as if she were a pleasant surprise, she forced herself to appear calm, clearing her throat lightly: "How is it that Young Master Yu carries no umbrella?"
Yu Yeqing gazed down at her, his features made sharper by the rainwater, his brow darker, the corners of his eyes redder, a look in his eyes like autumn ripples stirred: "I left in a hurry and wasn't paying attention."
He smiled at her again: "Fortunately, I met you, Miss."
He reached out to take the umbrella handle, his little finger lightly brushing against the back of her hand. "Allow me to hold it; how could I let you tire yourself, Miss."
Song Hemei swallowed. She felt extremely nervous in that moment, her heartbeat quickening considerably. The hand she withdrew clenched tighter inside her sleeve, as if she could still feel the ticklish sensation on the back of her hand that she couldn't ignore.
"Let me first escort you back to your courtyard, Miss. Might I borrow this umbrella for a few more days?"
Song Hemei was somewhat distracted. After registering what he had said, she saw no reason to refuse, and promptly replied: "Take it, by all means."
They walked side by side under the umbrella. Her initial fluster and tension gradually transformed into a single thought—it would be better if this umbrella were just a little smaller.
The emergence of this thought caused Song Hemei's expression to darken. She felt this state she was in was truly terrible. Her attention towards him was far too excessive.
Instinctively, she turned her head to look at him, and he caught her doing so. He turned his head accordingly to meet her gaze, his chiseled, handsome features breaking into her field of vision.
His long lashes trembled: "Do I look very disheveled right now, Miss?"
Song Hemei opened her mouth: "...Not really."
Disheveled? Perhaps. But he looked far more handsome like this than when his clothes were perfectly neat.
Yu Yeqing lowered his head, his eyes dimming: "That's good. I was only worried I might frighten you, Miss, and make you avoid me even more."
"Why do you speak so gravely? With looks as fine as yours, Young Master, how could you possibly frighten anyone?"
"So, you have indeed been avoiding me, Miss."
Yu Yeqing stopped walking, fixing his gaze upon her.
The rain pattered incessantly against the oiled umbrella paper. Song Hemei's heart seemed to skip a beat. Meeting his eyes, she could only explain stiffly: "I wasn't avoiding you..."
Yu Yeqing didn't speak. His clear, gentle eyes simply gazed at her silently. He didn't press her for the reason, nor did he expose her pretense—this only made her feel more unsettled.
She took a deep breath, unable to stop herself from asking him: "Does it matter to you whether I avoid you or not?"
Yu Yeqing lowered his eyes and did not answer immediately.
Song Hemei felt a pang of regret, realizing her question had been too direct, making her seem somewhat forward.
She was about to speak and steer the conversation away, but Yu Yeqing suddenly spoke: "If I said it did matter, would that frighten you, Miss?"
He took a step closer to her: "Would it make you avoid me even more cautiously in the future?"
Song Hemei's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat.
The sticky, damp taste of the rainy day seemed to seep into her heart. She stared at him blankly, feeling her ears burn. Instinctively, she reached up and touched them.
Yu Yeqing didn't receive her answer. He simply lowered his eyes once more, looking deeply dejected, his voice low and heavy: "I understand. I won't cause you any trouble anymore, Miss."
He handed the umbrella back to her: "You are kind-hearted, Miss, but I know I have already imposed too much. My clothes are already wet; a little more rain won't make much difference."
He forcefully pressed the handle into her hand. Song Hemei couldn't push it back, and a growing sense of urgency filled her heart.
Watching him turn to walk back into the rain, she acted on impulse. Without quite knowing why, she suddenly grasped his wrist firmly.
Yu Yeqing stopped in his tracks, looking back at her. His gaze trailed down to her hand holding his wrist.
A smile flickered at the corners of his lips before being suppressed. He still used that same subdued voice to ask her: "Miss, what does this mean?"
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