Pei Lingshu squinted slightly and looked up as if trying to recall something. “I made a kite shaped like a swallow, and the little girl’s was a swallow too. But Ning Yan went and made some ridiculous wolf-head kite. Since when do wolves fly? Absolutely absurd.”
Bai Qingqing drew in a soft breath, her eyes shining with disbelief. “So… you’re Brother Shu? I still remember the swallow kite you made—it was so pretty. Didn’t it have a spring blossom painted on it?”
Pei Lingshu widened his eyes in feigned surprise. “What? Don’t tell me you’re little Fragrance?”
Bai Qingqing’s face flushed crimson. “How do you still remember that nickname?”
She hadn’t thought much of it as a child—just assumed it was what people called her. But now, hearing someone actually say “little Fragrance” out loud made her toes curl with embarrassment.
Pei Lingshu laughed, a trace of nostalgia in his voice. “How could I forget? Come to think of it, it was Ning Yan who came up with that name. Said you always smelled nice, so he just called you little Fragrance.”
Bai Qingqing was still brimming with wonder. It was almost unreal—they had met as children!
“So Lord Ning is that same Brother Yan Yan from back then?”
She had been too young at the time to understand his full name. All she knew was that it had a “Yan” in it, so she’d decided to call him Brother Yan Yan.
Pei Lingshu nodded with a smile. “I’m surprised you still remember. But then again, you were always trailing after Ning Yan back then. Strange, really—he’s never had much patience, but he’d let you follow him around, face all sullen. Even when he made you cry, he’d panic and try all sorts of ways to cheer you up. I used to find it quite amusing.”
And yet Bai Qingqing remembered.
Her paper kite had gotten caught in a tree, and she’d gone off to find an adult for help. But the children her own size all puffed up with pride, each insisting on climbing the tree themselves. No one would let her call for help. They argued so fiercely it looked like a fight was about to break out, scaring her half to death.
Then she saw a boy leap down nimbly from a stack of wood nearby. To her innocent eyes, he was amazing—surely someone like him could rescue her kite with no trouble at all.
He didn’t smile much, true, but he was handsome. And it seemed like everyone else was afraid of him. When he was around, no one dared raise their voice. To the young Bai Qingqing, he was a treasure, and she loved following him everywhere.
In time, she realized that although this older boy seemed fierce, he was actually quite kind. He always looked a bit impatient when people spoke to him, but he never ignored them.
Bai Qingqing remembered clearly—it was spring, just past Jingzhe. Little bugs had begun to appear now and then, and she was terribly afraid of them. Someone, of course, thought it funny to scare her with them.
Looking back now, maybe it was just a child’s clumsy way of trying to get attention. But how could little Bai Qingqing have known that? She cried so often she didn’t even want to go outside anymore.
That fierce-looking boy, though, was different.
Once, a bug fell from a tree and landed in her hair. She shrieked and jumped in place, panicking, clutching at his clothes and diving straight into his arms. He simply raised a hand, face still cool, and plucked the bug out without a word—swift and clean. So cool! So impressive!
“That little boy… was Lord Ning…”