A week had passed before Yue Xing got the opportunity to return the handkerchief. The scorching summer slowly turned into a slightly milder autumn, the mountain air feeling crisper in the mornings and cooler in the evenings.

  That morning, rain pattered gently from the sky above, the greyish clouds casting over the landscape. Yue Xing woke up that morning feeling inexplicably cold.

  He curled his body closer under the thin blanket, trying to savor the last drops of warmth he could absorb. The broken window frame rattled with the cool gusts of the dawn wind. Yue Xing shivered, pressing his lips together.

  The rest of the room was still quiet. His roommate to the left was still snoring loudly and the woman across from him was shuffling with the blanket. It was still too early, just the barest hints of sunlight filtering in through the window.

  He tried to close his eyes a little tighter, wishing that sleep would take him for a few more fleeting moments, but it simply wasn't happening. Yue Xing sighed, pulling the blanket closer up on his body, he reached tenderly into his thin inner robes.

  His cold fingertips connected with the soft silk of the handkerchief and he lightly tugged it out into his palm. The expensive fabric was returned to its original cream color now, the elegant embroidery free of the ugly crimson stains. A small, content hum left his lips.

  Hearing the others slowly beginning to stir, Yue Xing quickly hid the handkerchief back into his robe and joined them in getting ready.

  He spent the morning helping Auntie Ye out in the kitchen, although he felt more akin to a form of emotional support than actual useful help. After his little blunder with the tea set a week prior, Ye Huiqing picked the tasks for him a little more carefully. For now, he messily chopped vegetables until his fingers were cramped from holding the knife too long.

  He ate his lunch quietly in the corner on the rice sacks, a meatbun and some leftover rice he shared with the other young helpers. In the early afternoon he excused himself from the kitchen. It wasn't as though the workers were sad to see him go, Yue Xing was pretty sure he even saw some of them sigh in relief.

  The rain had briefly passed, leaving puddles in the dirt and water dripping from the rooftops. Yue Xing stopped for a moment to observe the valley below; smudges of color occasionally appeared between the blobs of the gray fog, the faint outlines of Yan’an Town.

  Yue Xing scrunched up his nose slightly. The view was quite unremarkable. The rainy season had always been his biggest foe, it always dulled the colors and made everything look so bland and washed together.

  Just as he was about to continue on, he heard footsteps from behind himself. Turning around, the apology for lazing around was on the tip of his tongue, but as the figure finally drew near enough, he was met with a familiar face.

  “Su Yan?” Yue Xing asked, as the guard approached. A slight look of surprise crept up the other man's face before his lips twisted into a small smile.

  “Yue Xing. I didn't think you'd recognize me.” Su Yan said, stopping just two steps away from Yue Xing. He was wearing dark attire, accented with some blue, his black hair pulled up into a long ponytail. Su Yan still had his spear between his crossed arms, leaning on it as he stood. It made him look mildly threatening. Yue Xing wasn't sure if the man was there for a friendly chat or perhaps to scold him for lingering too long.

  “You know my name?” Yue Xing blurted suddenly, making Su Yan’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, before it morphed into a cheeky grin.

  “I'm not sure if you're aware, but everyone is talking about you in the manor. It's practically impossible not to know your name at this point. You're like the first interesting thing around here in a long time.”

  Though Su Yan’s tone was nothing short of friendly and playful, Yue Xing couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling that spread across his body.

  Yue Xing swallowed dryly. “Sure…”

  Though he tried his best to hide it, the sorrow must have been evident on his face if Su Yan’s reaction was anything to go off of. The guard’s face fell gradually, his brows furrowing slowly. For a few moments he said nothing. Then he opened his mouth as if he was about to, only to tightly press it closed, before trying again. “Oh. I'm, uh… I'm sorry about the whole… Well, uh, you know— Just, sorry.” Su Yan said finally.

  Yue Xing felt like his legs were suddenly made of jelly. It took most of his willpower to keep himself standing upright and appear untouched by the whole situation.

  He forced a smile onto his face, the very same, docile and meek smile he always used to placate others. “It's, ah, fine, I guess. It's not like it's your fault. And it's not that bad, I guess. People around here are nice. Even if they are talking about me behind my back, it's not anything new.” Yue Xing tried to wave it off quickly, not wanting to put Su Yan into an awkward position.

  Su Yan’s expression didn't change for a moment. His eyes seemed to be looking for something on Yue Xing's face, but Yue Xing was an expert at making himself appear unendingly patient.

  “Right.” Su Yan huffed slightly, his fingers tightening around his spear. “In any case, I guess I just wanted to tell you that you can always find me if you're in need.” the man said, his lashes fluttering as he cast his gaze aside for a moment. “I know what it's like to be… different.”

  Yue Xing blinked quietly for a moment, the silence stretching between them. He decided it was better not to ask what Su Yan meant by that. He thanked the guard in earnest for his offer and quickly excused himself, leaving Su Yan to stand alone in the pavilion.

  Though with a much heavier heart than before, Yue Xing continued his journey towards where he presumed the study to be. From the others he had learned that that's where Song Chang spent most of his day, ‘Being tortured over documents’ as the man himself had apparently let it slip once.

  Yue Xing vaguely remembered the route he took the day he got lost and embarrassed himself in front of the magistrate. He halted just a few steps short of the study door. A bored guard was leaning against the wall next to it, eating melon seeds out of his pocket and flicking the shells over the railing.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Yue Xing cautiously moved towards the entrance, but other than a fleeting, lazy glance, the guard made no move to stop him. With a soft exhale he gave the wood a couple gentle raps, anxiously waiting until a gruff ‘Enter’ was heard from the other side.

  Stepping into the magistrate’s study wasn't like anything Yue Xing had experienced before. If he would've had to describe the feeling later, it was like entering an exhilarating new world that he couldn't have even begun to imagine before.

  As far as he could see, shelves lined every wall, packed to the brim with scrolls and papers. Large windows filtered in the cloudy sky from outside, illuminating the desk in the middle from behind. Song Chang sat at the table, leaning his forehead against his palm as he read through something.

  Off to the side, Zhan Wei gave him half a look before continuing to pretend as though Yue Xing wasn't even there. The smell of paper, ink and various incenses permeated the air.

  He took a step forward, clearing his throat respectfully. “Lord Song,” he called out, quietly. At first he didn't even think the man would hear it, but Song Chang's face snapped up faster than he expected.

  Song Chang sat up straighter, quickly discarding the document in his hand. “Yue Xing.” he said, his voice a pleasant rumble. He beckoned the young man closer with one hand. “What brings you here?”

  Yue Xing curiously eyed the messy desk for a moment. Even though he had no idea what any of the things were for, he took an inexplicably keen interest in them. He quickly shook the feeling, pulling out the neatly folded handkerchief instead. He carefully held it out for Song Chang to take.

  “I wanted to say, well, uh, thank you.” Yue Xing said, his lips pulling into a small, hopefully respectful smile on their own. Song Chang's own face softened at the words. He took the handkerchief from Yue Xing, their fingers brushing against one another for a mere moment.

  “You're welcome.” the man inclined his head. “I take it your hands are healed now?” Song Chang inquired as he tucked the fabric into his robe. Yue Xing made a quiet sound of surprise. He looked down at his hands where the thin red lines were beginning to fade on his fingertips. “Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, Lord Song.”

  Song Chang hummed in approval. “Good then. Is there anything else you'd like to say?”

  Yue Xing quickly shook his head and bowed like he'd seen others around the manor do when someone important passed. He was about to take his leave when Song Chang called out to him once more.

  “Wait, Yue Xing. Before you leave, could you bring over some records for me?” Yue Xing turned over to see the man fixing him with a— Helpless look? That couldn't be right…

  Whatever the case might have been, he didn't dare to ask. He pushed through the surprise and turned back, earning a thankful smile in return. “All right, I just need the Tianhai City records from last season. They should be somewhere on that shelf.” Song Chang motioned to the wall on his right, and Yue Xing nodded before he even turned to look.

  He didn't know what he'd expected of this exactly, but Yue Xing suddenly found himself with a wall’s-load-of shelves and a very particular problem—he couldn't read which one said Tianhai City at all.

  He quietly walked towards it, trying to hide the absolute dread that washed over him, cold sweat pooling down his back. Yue Xing swallowed thickly. He sneaked a single glance over his shoulder only to find Song Chang waiting patiently, watching his every move.

  Yue Xing was completely and utterly done for.

  His fingers ghosted over some papers, almost reaching out to try his luck but he always pulled his hand back. He could practically sense Song Chang's patience drop by the second, he could feel the man's eyes boring holes into his back with every attempt he made at trying to appear calm.

  “Yue Xing. You just missed it.” Song Chang said suddenly and Yue Xing spun around so quickly he almost knocked himself over. His predictions were right, Song Chang was scowling.

  Before he could scramble to get his excuses in—maybe something about having a headache or being dizzy and hence he was just a little out of it, haha—he heard Zhan Wei giving a stifled snort. Zhan Wei was laughing at his misery.

  Song Chang glared at the man in turn, so the scribe quickly pretended to busy himself with work once more. All the while Yue Xing wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow him up whole.

  “Yue Xing,” the words out of Song Chang's mouth were akin to that of a scolding parent's. He swallowed thickly, not daring to meet the man in the eye. “Can you not read?”

  There wasn't anything particularly mean about the way Song Chang had asked it. If anything it was more curious than bewildered or angry. Yet at that moment Yue Xing still experienced a sudden and shameful urge to cower and cry.

  His throat felt especially tight out of nowhere. What was with him and crying all the time now?! “No.” He squeezed out the simple word with increasing difficulty. “I can't, Lord Song.” The last part was said so quietly that even Yue Xing himself was barely able to discern his own voice.

  For what felt like forever, no one said anything. Yue Xing wordlessly twisted one hand in the other, both as sweaty and clammy as was the rest of his body. He didn't dare look up from where he was staring at the floor. He couldn't bear to face whatever expression Song Chang had on his face.

  Was it anger? Pity? Frustration? Disgust? Would he too think Yue Xing was completely stupid, just like everyone else did? Someone so highly educated that the emperor had chosen him specifically for the position of magistrate was sure to look down on his incredibly poor literacy—or more importantly, the lack thereof.

  It wouldn't have been the first time Yue Xing was berated for being of no use to the people around him. So he wouldn't have blamed Song Chang for doing the same.

  The floor creaked under Song Chang's weight as he pulled himself up from the table. Yue Xing flinched slightly as the footsteps neared, but then the figure of the man passed him, stepping instead to the shelf.

  His heart thumped wildly in his chest, his fists coiling into his clothes and bunching up the fabric. He could hear Song Chang rummaging through the shelves while a curse slipped his lips. Yue Xing could only pitifully hope it wasn't directed at him.

  Then Song Chang stepped in front of him. Yue Xing looked up, terrified, feeling his heart right in his throat.

  Song Chang stood close. So close that Yue Xing was finally able to see his face clearly. He had brown eyes and a mole right on his left cheekbone, his chin dusted with stubble.

  “This,” Song Chang's voice came abruptly, tearing him out of his staring session. The magistrate raised the scroll in his hand so Yue Xing could see it too. “These right here say Tianhai. The character next to it means city.” He pointed to the writing on the side. “See?”

  Yue Xing felt his cheeks burn hot. His fists tightened around the fabric of his trousers in shame. But he still nodded, casting his eyes away the first chance he got. “Yes, Lord Song.” he whispered with a shaking voice.

  “Very well.” Song Chang hummed, satisfied, and walked back to the table. He settled back into his seat, while Yue Xing continued to stand in place like a very stupid and humiliated statue.

  “I'll have something arranged for you to help you out. I don't think having illiterate servants would reflect well on the magistrate. And besides, reading is the most useful skill one can have out in the world.” Song Chang spoke so calmly and evenly that Yue Xing couldn't discern a single emotion from his voice. He nodded shakily.

  Song Chang looked up at him for one last time. “That is all. You may go, Yue Xing.” he said, before opening up the scroll and focusing on his work once more. “And don't beat yourself up too much.”