They both paused, then simultaneously said, “Let’s talk.”  “Let’s have a proper conversation.”  One was practical and businesslike; the other, full of human emotion.

They found a teahouse, a Li family establishment, and went to a private room for a discreet conversation.  Lin Zhaoxue explained her resurrection, revealing Li Zong Heng, Li Yanyong’s uncle, had saved her. 

A long silence followed.  The room was warm, despite the winter chill, making Lin Zhaoxue feel overdressed. She removed her cloak, but her anxiety grew. 

A wave of bitterness washed over her, replaying Li Yanyong’s words to Ding Huanhua:  “She and I… had some dealings.” He hadn’t acknowledged her identity, maintaining a distance.

Lin Zhaoxue’s eyes reddened.  Clutching her teacup, she fought back tears, feigning indifference.  “Why didn’t you acknowledge me in front of your wife?”

She tried to speak calmly, wanting to avoid an immediate argument.  Her usual fiery temper would have led to a huge fight if Li Yanyong had treated another woman this way. 

But she wasn’t entirely unreasonable. She understood Li Yanyong and Ding Huanhua’s union was natural.

Li Yanyong responded rationally, “In that situation, not revealing your identity was the best course of action.  If word of your survival got out, who knows what rumors would spread.  Telling Huanhua would upset her.”

Lin Zhaoxue felt a pang of hurt.  She exploded, “You mean you didn’t tell her to avoid upsetting her? Li Yanyong, are you mad? You care about her feelings, but not mine?”

Li Yanyong closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead, “Let me finish. If she reacted like you did, there would be gossip all over Tokyo within two days.  Lin Zhaoxue, be calm.”

Lin Zhaoxue, familiar with his directness, calmed down slightly.  “Fine, you’re practical, I’m foolish, consumed by jealousy. I won’t argue; I can’t win.”

“So, what are your plans now that I’m back?”

Li Yanyong rubbed his temples wearily, “Give me time. This is complicated.”

Lin Zhaoxue gasped for breath.  Did he think she was simple-minded?  Why did he think that way?  Did he see her as unreasonable? 

She had only wanted reassurance, not immediate action.  Was it so difficult to offer comfort? Or did he simply prefer Ding Huanhua?

Doubt gnawed at her.  She stormed out.  The wind and snow lashed at Li Yanyong. He wanted to resolve things, but they ended up arguing again, like their tumultuous past.

Lin Zhaoxue, a pampered daughter of Tokyo, hadn’t faced much adversity.  She didn’t know how to handle this situation, resorting to her old ways.

She assumed everyone still loved her.  If she expressed her anger and held on, they would eventually relent and return to her.

*

Despite their argument, Li Yanyong sent someone to find Lin Zhaoxue in the snowy night. He sent a carriage, guards, a hand warmer, and a bowl of warming lamb soup—things Lin Zhaoxue used to prepare for him. 

She realized how much he had changed.  His attentiveness to Ding Huanhua mirrored things she had pleaded with him to do, and things she had done for him.

The hand warmer soothed her anger.  She wasn’t unaware of the complexities, so despite her jealousy, she hadn’t caused a major scene.  She never wanted to make things difficult for him, but his words had been hurtful.

Lin Zhaoxue cherished their past and loved him. She wouldn’t give up easily.  Li Yanyong’s guards relayed a message, asking Lin Zhaoxue to wait for him.  She kept the lights on, waiting for him.

*

In the back house, Fuchun Courtyard, Ding Huanhua sat quietly, appearing calm.  But the tightly clenched gold incense box betrayed her anxiety.  Her maid urged her to do something, but Ding Huanhua said, “He asked me to trust him.”

She felt a deep unease.  She also left the lights on, but it was already midnight.  Li Yanyong hadn’t come.  Finally, she calmly told her maid to extinguish the lights, “He won’t be coming.”

A man’s voice interrupted, “Don’t turn off the lights. I need to talk to your mistress.”

Li Yanyong entered, his cloak dusted with snow.  “Hui’er didn’t explain things to you. I apologize. Let me tell you.”

Ding Huanhua’s eyes lit up.  She rushed into his arms, “Don’t push me away. Let me hug you.”

Li Yanyong froze.  The candle was blown out.

*

Lin Zhaoxue kept her lights on until dawn.  She realized Li Yanyong wouldn’t come.  She easily learned where he had gone—to Ding Huanhua’s room, presumably to comfort her.

Lin Zhaoxue felt a burning shame.  Suspicion flooded her.  Had he slept with Ding Huanhua?  How intimate had they been this past year?

The thought was repulsive.  Her calm facade crumbled.  Her greatest fear was that Li Yanyong genuinely loved Ding Huanhua. 

She had thought their marriage was simply a matter of convenience.  But seeing his concern for Ding Huanhua, she wondered if it was more than just a husband’s duty.  If so, she shouldn’t interfere.

She decided to question her son, who was observant and knew the details of their relationship.  She applied makeup, concealing the redness around her eyes.