Early the next morning, Chen Baoxiang moved out with Hanxiao. All of their things were loaded onto a flatcart, and not once did the Great Immortal appear to see her off.
Seeing that the time had come, she didn’t wait any longer. She went first to the East and West Markets to buy supplies, then returned to the small courtyard to get it in order.
The courtyard was in some disarray, and everyone was run off their feet. They had just finished wiping down the main gate when the Great Immortal’s carriage happened to flash past the entrance.
Chen Baoxiang thought her eyes were playing tricks on her and shook her head, continuing to arrange the flower pots.
Then the Great Immortal’s carriage drifted past the entrance again, the wheels rolling slowly enough that she could clearly make out the perfectly composed face in the carriage window.
“Oh?” She carried a flower pot to the doorway. “Great Immortal, you’ve moved back so soon?”
Zhang Zhixu didn’t look at her, and said in a neutral tone: “Not at all. Just passing by.”
“Ah.” She looked hesitantly back into the house. “Normally I’d invite you in for a sit, but it’s not all tidied yet in here — dirty and cluttered. Great Immortal, come back another day with Yinyue.”
She truly meant to let him leave just like that.
Zhang Zhixu gritted his teeth. He was on the verge of slamming the window shut in a fit of pique when he heard Xu Buran’s voice ring out from within the courtyard: “Miss Chen, where should I put this?”
“In the stable on the left side of the courtyard.”
He snapped the small window open.
“Fengqing?” Xu Buran was genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Shouldn’t that be his question to ask? In broad daylight — an unmarried man and woman together — what was he doing here!
Sensing the atmosphere was off, Xu Buran quickly explained: “I have a day off today. I ran into Miss Chen at the West Market. She’d bought things that were both heavy and numerous, and the porters she’d hired couldn’t manage it all, so I came along to lend a hand.”
“How considerate.” Zhang Zhixu smiled without warmth as he stepped down from the carriage. “Then I’ll lend a hand as well.”
“Please don’t — the bluestone slabs are covered in mud, and all the old furniture is thick with dust.” Chen Baoxiang wrinkled her nose. “Come back once I’ve got it sorted.”
What gave Xu Buran the right and not him?
Zhang Zhixu was thoroughly aggrieved. He set his face, shouldered past her, and forced his way through the door.
Having lived together for some time, Chen Baoxiang had come to understand this immortal’s peculiarities well enough.
He was fastidious about cleanliness. Even stools that appeared clean outdoors would have to be wiped repeatedly before he would sit on them. Whenever he was somewhere grimy, he required Jiuquan to prepare hot cloth compresses and incense.
He had also never done manual work of any kind. Whether it was moving things or sweeping — he couldn’t even use a broom properly. Those hands of his were smooth as could be, without a single callus anywhere except where a brush had been held.
So when his snow-white brocade boots sank into yellow mud, Chen Baoxiang could barely bring herself to look.
She followed him step for step, trying to reason with him: “Xu Dairen is here — there are enough hands. There’s nothing you can really help with… ah, don’t glare at me. If you really want to help, don’t try to carry the signboard — just water the flowers over here?”
“Or if nothing else — could you come look at the main hall and tell me how the tables and chairs should be arranged?”
“Great Immortal, you really can’t go any further — there’s a water-filled pit in the grass.”
Xu Buran had known Zhang Zhixu for years, and had grown familiar enough with Chen Baoxiang through their recent martial practice sessions.
But now, walking behind the two of them, Xu Buran felt as though he didn’t know them at all.
How could Zhang Zhixu be sulking at someone like a child? And how could Miss Chen be not bossing anyone around, but instead speaking to him so patiently and gently?
With so little to be done here, how could it possibly be too much to ask of Zhang Fengqing!
Shaking his head, he turned around. “Miss Chen, the cauldron you just bought is too heavy. I’m afraid it’ll take the two of us together to move it to the front.”
“Right, sure.” Chen Baoxiang answered and glanced back.
Zhang Zhixu had Jiuquan and Ningsu with him — it should be fine.
She turned and went with Xu Buran toward the front hall.
Zhang Zhixu kept walking and gradually realized no one was beside him anymore.
He turned his head and said to Ningsu, his voice like ice: “And this is what you meant by ‘she hasn’t taken a liking to anyone’?”
Ningsu was torn between laughing and exasperation: “Master — he said himself he was just here to lend a hand. How does that connect to any of this?”
“No gift goes without ulterior motive.”
“Xu Dairen isn’t a bad person at all, is he?”
Xu Buran was certainly not a bad person — on the contrary, both his family background and his character were far superior to Pei Ruheng’s by any measure.
By any reasonable thinking, he ought to be encouraging Chen Baoxiang to spend time with him, so that she could fulfill as soon as possible the promise he had made to her in that prison.
But Zhang Zhixu’s face remained cold, dark, and overcast. He simply could not summon a good mood.
Why did she have to keep a proper distance from him, but not from others?
With a flick of his sleeve, he reversed direction and followed the two of them toward the front hall.
Chen Baoxiang had Hanxiao bring him a clean chair, so that he could sit in the swept rear courtyard corridor.
But she herself was moving things together with Xu Buran, working until both her hands and her face were streaked with mud. Afterward the two of them sat together on the grimy stone steps talking.
Their silhouettes were very close, with not the slightest regard for propriety.
Zhang Zhixu watched them with cold eyes, his mood thoroughly soured. He stood up and also picked up a flower pot.
Chen Baoxiang’s eyes went wide at the sight: “Great Immortal, your robe — it’s embroidered with silver thread patterns. It’ll be completely ruined.”
He smiled through gritted teeth: “It’s nothing much. Only twenty or so taels.”