Chapter Twenty-One: When Is Your Birthday?

She said nothing, only answered softly, then turned with the bowl and walked away.

In his memory, it was her thin silhouette, seeming lost and sorrowful. Yet at that time, she had not uttered a single word. Though she was the treasured daughter of the Duke of the Nation’s household, raised in affection and privilege, she had never been arrogant or angry before him.

Jun Ci’s heart suddenly tightened, leaving him breathless and enveloped in an indescribable feeling—perhaps guilt. Lady Jun, seeing his face turn pale, asked worriedly, “Ci’er, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mother,” Jun Ci replied, forcing a dry smile. The hand holding his chopsticks revealed faint veins. “I just remembered a few things.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, lips pressed tightly together.

Lately, for reasons unknown, he kept recalling matters concerning Shen Nanyuan—perhaps because of the words he overheard her say at the Gao residence that day.

“Do not play games with others anymore.”

He didn’t know when she had discovered it. Perhaps it was because she knew that she sought to break off the engagement.

In the past, bound by the betrothal, he had never cared about her affairs, nor wished to, but no matter what, he did owe Shen Nanyuan.

This year’s birthday seemed particularly calm and quiet. In his study, apart from himself, only servants were present. The weather was splendid, with the sun shining bright, the clouds that had lingered for days now dispersed—a rare fine day.

“Master, Young Lord Liu has arrived.”

Jun Ci looked up from his book. Liu Yuli, clad in dark brocade, entered behind the servant, seated himself, and poured tea, saying, “Today’s your birthday, but it’s far too quiet here, don’t you think?”

“You know me,” Jun Ci replied evenly, “I don’t care for lively crowds.”

“True, but birthdays ought to be a bit festive. In the past, Miss Shen would come over, and with her here, it felt like a proper celebration. Now that she won’t be coming anymore, is this how you’ll spend all your birthdays?”

At these words, Jun Ci’s fingers unconsciously tightened, pale at the knuckles.

Liu Yuli didn’t notice Jun Ci’s expression and continued, laughing, “How about we go to Mingyue Restaurant? We could quietly invite Miss Lin over—today’s special, I’ll help arrange a meeting for you two.”

“No need,” Jun Ci replied. “Next month I’ll be visiting the Lin family to propose—it's only a few days away. Seeing her then will suffice. Today, I don’t wish to go anywhere.”

He didn’t look up, his lashes hiding any emotion in his eyes. “I just want to stay in.”

Liu Yuli touched his nose, somewhat embarrassed. “Alright then.”

He didn’t stay long at the Jun residence; fond of bustling scenes, Liu Yuli had only come to coax Jun Ci out, and couldn’t bear to linger in such a quiet study.

Once Liu Yuli left, there was no one left to talk to—the silence so profound that the fall of a pin would be heard.

Jun Ci found himself unable to focus on his book.

He rose and walked outside, unconsciously finding his way to the storeroom, where gifts from others were stored—he seldom came here.

A servant carefully opened the door. The room was cleaned daily, bright and tidy. The servant asked cautiously, “Master, are you looking for something?”

Jun Ci glanced around, then asked, “Where are the birthday gifts sent by others in past years?”

“Here, Master,” the servant replied.

He approached, his gaze passing over gifts from officials who were close to him, finally settling on a collection of small objects, both unfamiliar and familiar.

Shen Nanyuan had sent him a birthday gift every year—sometimes a painting she made herself, sometimes a jade pendant. She would happily place it before him, but he had never given the matter much thought, only glanced at it before instructing the servants to store it in the storeroom. After that, it remained buried here, and today was only the second time he looked at them.

Jun Ci reached out and picked up one of the jade pendants. In his palm it was smooth and cool, with fine quality—a superior piece of jade.

Thinking back, he realized he had never gifted Shen Nanyuan anything for her birthday.

The only times he did so were under his father’s coercion.

Never once out of genuine sentiment.

Jun Ci’s Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, saying nothing, but taking the jade pendant with him as he left the storeroom.

Much as he hated to admit it, he had to bow his head—there was still a faint hope in his heart that Shen Nanyuan might send him a birthday gift this year.

Even though their engagement had long been dissolved, they had grown up together.

But even as night fell, nothing arrived.

He finally learned that every year at this time, the Shen family’s matron would visit Puyue Temple to burn incense and offer prayers, staying for three days.

Because his birthday fell within these days, Shen Nanyuan had never gone before.

But this year, she went.

—

Dinner at Puyue Temple was vegetarian, prepared by the monks. Though it didn’t quite suit Shen Nanyuan’s palate, she ate every bit.

Today, Xiao Yan returned early. Shen Nanyuan had spent the entire day at the matron’s side, never venturing elsewhere, so her curiosity about her surroundings grew.

“What’s in the back mountain? Is it interesting?”

“Miss,” Xiao Yan answered, “there’s a grove of peach trees there.”

Shen Nanyuan propped her chin thoughtfully. “Peach trees, hmm. Not much to see now, but come March next year, when they bloom, it’ll surely be beautiful.”

She looked up at the young man, her lips curving gently, her voice soft and sweet beneath the candlelight. “When March comes, let’s come here and see the peach blossoms together.”

Xiao Yan had little interest in such things, but under her gaze, he nodded involuntarily. “As you wish, Miss.”

“Oh, by the way, when is your birthday?”

He paused, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t know, Miss. I only know I was brought to the Duke’s household in March.”

Birthday—no one had ever asked him this before.

So much so, that hearing it just now left him momentarily stunned.

“I see.” Shen Nanyuan smiled. “Then from now on, let’s pick a day each March to celebrate your birthday. On that day, we’ll have Uncle Li make all your favorites. Uncle Li loves lively occasions—he’d be quite happy.”

As she spoke, something seemed to spread from the depths of Xiao Yan’s heart. His throat tightened as he glanced at Shen Nanyuan, meeting her clear, bright eyes. It felt as if he’d been scorched, and he quickly looked away.

“Thank you, Miss.”

Shen Nanyuan didn’t know what he was thinking. She glanced at the sky outside, then spoke softly, “Alright, it’s getting late. You should go rest.”

Xiao Yan bent and bowed. “Yes, Miss.”

He took a few steps back, and suddenly remembered something.

“Miss, best not stay out so late as you did yesterday. This place is different from the Duke’s residence.”