Chapter 290: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 290: Wishing to Master a Skill
But the person approaching did not respond to her — only continued walking forward, each step unhurried.
Though he said nothing, his footsteps drew steadily nearer. Unable to see, Qiao Yumian felt a trace of unease rise in her chest. She touched the stone beside her and slowly stood up.
Soon, the sound of footsteps was right before her — judging from her years of experience living in darkness, relying on her hearing, they were no more than five or six steps apart.
“...Who are you, sir?” she asked again, her tone cautious.
At first, she thought the footsteps sounded like those of Cui Lang. Yet Cui Lang would never fail to answer her.
He had a mischievous nature, yes — but knowing her timid disposition, he would never tease her in such a way.
And if this was not Cui Lang, then judging by the sound, it was still clearly a man. Could it be one of the scholars from the academy?
“...Young Miss Qiao?”
The newcomer finally spoke, his voice carrying a touch of surprise, as though only just recognizing her.
Qiao Yumian was briefly startled, then sighed in relief. “So it’s you after all.”
The tension left her shoulders; she even sat back down naturally on the stone. For someone who had long lived in darkness, this kind of unguarded composure was rare — something she seldom revealed in front of others, perhaps without realizing it herself.
She asked curiously, “I called to you earlier — why didn’t you answer?”
“You called me?” Cui Lang gave a slightly apologetic smile. “My apologies, I must not have heard.”
Because he’d been walking with his head lowered, he hadn’t seen her either.
He quickly asked, “Did I frighten you?”
“A little,” Qiao Yumian admitted honestly. “Only a little, though.”
After all, this was her own courtyard — not some unfamiliar place where danger might lurk.
“I didn’t expect you to be here. I’ll be more careful next time,” Cui Lang promised earnestly.
“Sixth Young Master Cui... why are you here alone?” Qiao Yumian asked. “The banquet should have only just ended, shouldn’t it? Why didn’t you stay in the front hall to talk with Scholar Song and the others?”
He’d always been one who thrived in lively company.
“I just wanted some air.” Though he knew she couldn’t see him, Cui Lang still spoke with his usual easy smile — even if he wasn’t truly smiling inside. “I don’t know how, but I somehow wandered here.”
Qiao Yumian couldn’t help but think of that day last year — when she had run here crying, and he had followed to comfort her. He’d told her that the lotus pond here was unlike any other he’d seen in his life.
When she asked what was different, he’d replied mysteriously that once her eyes recovered, she would know at a glance.
At the time, she had only smiled faintly — never believing she would ever have that chance.
But now… perhaps soon, she really would be able to see with her own eyes what made that lotus pond so different.
At this moment, however, her attention was all on Cui Lang. “Sixth Young Master Cui, did you drink much tonight?” she asked.
“Not much, just two or three cups!” Cui Lang instinctively stepped back two paces, quickly waving his sleeve as though to fan the air. “Does the smell bother you?”
Qiao Yumian shook her head lightly. “Not at all.”
She turned her face toward him and asked softly, “Have you... been troubled lately?”
Cui Lang froze.
When he didn’t answer, Qiao Yumian added gently, “You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not.”
She was not one to pry. On the contrary — her years of blindness had taught her to live quietly, closed off from the world. Other than her family, she rarely spoke to anyone.
The only reason she asked him now was because, to her, Cui Lang was no longer an outsider.
Though known as a frivolous young lord, loud and boisterous, when he tried to cheer her up, he always did so with restraint — never startling her, never making her uneasy.
She also knew that many times, he had quietly followed behind her, protecting her from the crowds.
That kind of patience and gentleness — she had felt it only from her elder brother, from Sui’an, and from Ning Ning.
And yet... what she felt from Cui Lang was somehow different.
All in all, apart from their first meeting at Dayun Temple and their second encounter at the Imperial Academy, every time they met afterward had been... pleasant.
So now, she simply wished to show a little concern — if he was willing to share his heart.
“How did Young Miss Qiao... notice?” Cui Lang finally asked, hesitating, his expression low and uncertain — like a hound caught sulking after being found out.
He looked at the girl seated upon the stone. She wore a lilac ruqun, her eyes covered by a veil of pale moon-white gauze. Her skin was fair, her figure delicate, purer and gentler than the young green lotus leaves unfolding behind her.
Though her eyes could not be seen, her face still held a look of earnest seriousness. “Though my eyes cannot see,” she said softly, “my heart can.”
Cui Lang looked at her — his mouth opened, then slowly closed again.
“I noticed some time ago,” Qiao Yumian continued. “Back then, I thought we were both merely worried about Ning Ning, so I didn’t ask. But yesterday, the news of Ning Ning’s triumph came — all was settled, and yet... your heart still seemed burdened.”
Knowing his temperament, she was certain it must be something truly grave for him to remain so troubled.
Cui Lang’s lips quivered; his eyes turned red.
After a moment, he sank down onto the grass beside her stone, lowering his head. His voice was hoarse as he said, “It’s about my elder brother...”
His tone was heavy. “He may be in grave danger.”
Qiao Yumian’s heart jumped. “The Grand General Cui?”
Cui Lang gave a muffled “mm.”
“In the Northern frontier?” she asked anxiously. “Has war broken out there too?”
“No... My brother was sent under secret imperial decree to Luoyang, to lead troops against Xu Zhengye. But midway, he was ambushed by assassins... the reports all say my brother met with disaster...”
The news from the Anbei Protectorate was the most detailed — they said he had fallen into an icy lake after being grievously wounded. In such conditions, the chances of survival were slim...
At that thought, Cui Lang clutched his hair, pressing his forehead against his knees as tears spilled out.
Though it pained her to hear, Qiao Yumian still asked gently for details.
When she learned that no body had been found, she said, “If so, then nothing is certain yet... The Grand General Cui is no ordinary man — he may well overcome this peril.”
“I hope so too...” Cui Lang’s voice cracked with tears. “But if he were alive, surely he would have sent word home.”
“Perhaps he is still trapped in danger and cannot act rashly... or perhaps a letter is already on its way, and will soon reach the capital,” she reasoned.
Her tone was not one of hollow comfort — she truly analyzed every possibility.
“Just as no one believed Ning Ning could slay Xu Zhengye...” Qiao Yumian said firmly, “I believe Grand General Cui, like Ning Ning, is someone who can achieve the impossible. This time will be no different.”
Cui Lang was truly moved by her words; he looked up at her. “Really?”
Qiao Yumian, rare to show such outward confidence, nodded firmly.
Cui Lang forced a smile that wasn’t very handsome. “Then I’ll take Young Miss Qiao’s good words as an omen.”
Qiao Yumian smiled and handed him her handkerchief.
He hesitated a beat before taking it.
So the two sat there — one on the stone, one on the grass — talking.
Cui Lang’s tears had only just been wiped away when they welled up again.
“…Since I was little I wanted to be close to my elder brother, but Father wouldn’t allow it, and I didn’t dare… I thought he didn’t like me, that he looked down on me.”
“When I was small, my brother secretly left home to join the army… Every time he returned, I only dared to watch him from the shadows.”
“In my memories he spent most of his time kneeling in the ancestral hall… at first I didn’t understand why he would go against the clan, go against our grandfather and father, and insist on fighting on the battlefield…”
“Once I overheard Father in the ancestral hall question my brother’s motives. My brother answered: for himself, for the people.”
“Father flew into fury and accused him of hypocrisy, of being unfilial and unworthy of the Cui ancestors — not fit to be a son of the Cui house.” Cui Lang spoke with indignation: “I thought then that Father was the selfish, biased one; he did not deserve to be my brother’s father.”
Qiao Yumian, surprised, asked, “You actually said that out loud?”
“I did,” Cui Lang paused, “in my heart.”
He hurried to justify himself: “If I’d said it out loud back then, I probably wouldn’t be sitting here now. A wise man knows when to keep his head down…”
Qiao Yumian smiled as she’d expected and nodded.
Cui Lang went on: “Actually I know that even though the clan often complains about my brother, they still rely on him. Over the years the Cui family has benefited quietly because of him…”
“Part of the reason my brother could take command of the Xuanzhe Army was his family standing, but that standing also brought trouble — even the Holy Emperor doesn’t trust him as openly as it seems, partly because his surname is Cui.”
“Father’s words are nonsense. My brother owes the Cui house nothing — certainly not to Father.” Cui Lang looked across the lotus pond and up at the clear blue sky. “To the clan he always seems out of place, rebellious… but to me, he was never meant to belong to the Cui family. They tried to cage him with family rules and filial expectations, but he never yielded.”
His elder brother’s resolve was always quiet but immovable.
“A man like my brother doesn’t belong to the Cuis — he belongs to the whole realm.”
“That he broke free from that cage is a blessing to the world.” Cui Lang’s eyes were wet and his expression unusually grave. “My brother is truly remarkable.”
A brother like that — a man who hid his identity at twelve to fight in the ranks — should never come to harm.
“Lately I burn incense morning and night…” Cui Lang choked, “If one life could trade for another, I’d give myself for him.”
Then, defeatedly: “But a worthless thing like me isn’t worth trading for my brother — Heaven wouldn’t accept such a deal.”
He stopped calling Heaven “Grandfather,” because he felt Heaven hadn’t been treating him like kin — if his brother were truly lost!
Cui Lang stared up at the sky and, half in jest and half in anger, broke off the pretend “grandfather-grandson” relationship with Heaven.
“Stop saying foolish things. Grand General Cui will be safe; you don’t have to trade your life for his,” Qiao Yumian said, disapproving. “And who says you have no worth?”
She looked at him earnestly. “I don’t know what you were like before, so I won’t judge. But the Cui Lang I know — warm, sincere, magnanimous, not petty, and considerate of others — is a very good person.”
Cui Lang was stunned for a moment, then asked hopefully, “…Is there more?”
Qiao Yumian thought a moment. “You’re also very good at... arguing back.”
“Eh?” Cui Lang blinked — was that a virtue?
“The ways you put people down — I’ve never even heard half of them,” Qiao Yumian sighed. “I’m not good at it. When I’m angry I can’t think of words and only fret inside.”
Cui Lang straightened his chest at once. “Then I’ll teach you!”
Qiao Yumian had little confidence. “I’m afraid I won’t learn…”
“So if someone bullies you later, I’ll come and swear them off for you!” Cui Lang said.
Qiao Yumian smiled and nodded.
He finally relaxed into a smile, moving a little closer. Looking up at her, he persisted, “Besides that, do I have any other good points?”
Perhaps he’d leaned too close; Qiao Yumian’s cheek warmed and she turned toward the pond uneasily. After a long moment she said in a small voice, “I… heard from Xiao Qiu and the others that you like to wear pale red — few men can carry pale red well… they said you’re handsome.”
Cui Lang touched his face and cleared his throat. “Well… I’m alright.”
He gave a rare, modest smile. “But the best-looking in our Cui generation is still my elder brother.”
Only his brother didn’t fuss over his appearance like he did.
Qiao Yumian smiled. She wasn’t curious about how handsome Grand General Cui — the man for the world — was. She was most curious about the man beside her.
Spring breezes moved through, carrying floral sweetness, the bitter green of grass, the briny tang of the pond — a mingled freshness of spring.
After a while Qiao Yumian spoke again: “You don’t have to tell yourself you’re worse than Grand General Cui in every single thing.”
“As I’m not as capable as Ning Ning, that’s true. But not being as good as Ning Ning doesn’t mean I’m worthless.”
She said, “There is moonlight in the world and there is firefly light. Everyone can shine their own light if they wish.”
Cui Lang watched the girl who now seemed to glow in his eyes.
“I once gave up — long ago I even had thoughts of ending myself… Recently I wondered: Ning Ning is so extraordinary, yet I live a mediocre life. What’s the meaning of someone like me? If my eyes heal, what then? Marry and have children? That answer didn’t make me happy.”
He was about to reply when she continued herself: “If that were the case, it would be a waste of the sight I regained…”
“These days I know what I want,” she said. “No matter what happens later, wherever I am, I want at least one skill — to shine like a little firefly.”
“Even if I can’t be like Ning Ning, at least I can stand on my own a little, not be a burden and live off others.”
“You are never a burden,” Cui Lang said solemnly. “But wanting that is wonderful.”
Qiao Yumian smiled faintly. “I hope you don’t laugh at me.”
“Only a fool would laugh at such a noble idea!” Cui Lang suddenly brightened. He stood, clenching his fist. “I want to be like you — to have a skill and give off light!”
He had always thought himself inferior to his elder brother and only ever looked up at him — but why had he never chosen to do something himself?
“…What can I do?” Cui Lang was stumped again. He scratched his head, unable to come up with a respectable skill.
“No hurry. We can think together,” Qiao Yumian said with a smile. “I haven’t decided either.”
She did have a rough idea, though she wasn’t sure she was fit for it.
“Yes — we’ll think it through together!” Cui Lang grinned, feeling lucky and uplifted. He had a sense he was about to climb upward.
He had never expected to meet someone like her.
His heart swelled; he clenched the handkerchief she’d given him. His face flushed with nervous courage as he began, “Mianmian, actually I…”
Qiao Yumian froze at that pet name; her breath halted for a moment. “W-what?”
“I…” Cui Lang had never been at a loss for words like this. Just as he was about to speak, a shout came from nearby.
“Master!”
A servant called Yihu came running, his face lit with joy.
Cui Lang wanted to kick him.
But Yihu’s next words wiped the anger away.
“Master, the eldest master is safe! Madam says you should hurry back to read his letter!”
News of Grand General Cui’s trouble had been held back; Yihu spoke directly into Cui Lang’s ear.
Cui Lang sprang up. “Really? He’s safe?”
Yihu nodded again and again. “The eldest master himself sent the letter!”
“Wonderful!” Cui Lang was so overjoyed he forgot himself. He suddenly turned and steadied Qiao Yumian by the shoulder. “Mianmian — your words worked. You’re my lucky star!”
Qiao Yumian’s face flushed violently. “As long as Grand General Cui is safe…”
“I must hurry back to the manor!”
Qiao Yumian nodded.
Cui Lang left in high spirits.
Once he was gone, Qiao Yumian raised a hand to her hot cheek and fanned it gently, breathing out warm air to cool herself.
Xiaoqiu returned, saw her flushed, and worriedly checked her forehead for a fever. She forbade Qiao Yumian to drink the wine and fussed over her as she helped her back inside.
Qiao Yumian walked like a doll guided by Xiaoqiu, her head full of chaotic thoughts.
Cui Lang’s unfinished sentence — she felt she had an inkling of what he would have said.
…
Cui Lang hurried home and immediately went to find his mother, flying as if on invisible wings. Along the way the family’s yellow dog raced up, tail wagging; he scooped up the dog’s head and planted a big kiss. “Good boy!”
The dog, delighted, followed him back as he brushed fur from his lips.
“Mother, where’s the letter from my elder brother?” Cui Lang called up the steps as he reached the hall.
Crossing the threshold he met a slightly scowling, cold face at the main room — and immediately shrank, drawing himself into proper form. He bowed: “Your son pays respects to Father and Mother.”
—
(So, guess what skill Mianmian wants to learn?)
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