Sister, Please Have Some Self-Respect, I'm Your Sister-in-Law - Chapter 5

A few days later, Madam Song indeed took Song Qingshuang to Yunyin Temple outside the city to offer incense.

Lin Yuehe had received advance notice from Song Zhiyuan. After calculating the timing, she slung a small bamboo basket over her arm, filled with her “carefully prepared” items, and hired a sedan chair to follow at a discreet distance.

Yunyin Temple was renowned for its flourishing incense offerings, but the rear mountain boasted a secluded bamboo forest, famed for its serene tranquility.

Lin Yuehe guessed that Song Qingshuang, true to her nature, would likely find an excuse to stroll through the bamboo grove after accompanying her mother to offer incense.

Sure enough, after waiting by the edge of the bamboo forest for about the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Lin Yuehe saw Song Qingshuang emerge alone from a side gate of the temple, her steps slow and deliberate as she headed toward the narrow path winding through the bamboo.

Today, Song Qingshuang wore an elegant pale green dress, her hair adorned with only a white jade hairpin, accentuating her chrysanthemum-like composure and ethereal grace.

Lin Yuehe took a deep breath, suppressing her racing heart, and hurried along another path to intercept her.

She pretended to have just emerged from the depths of the bamboo forest, ensuring a chance encounter with Song Qingshuang.

“Eldest Sister?” Lin Yuehe’s face registered just the right amount of surprise. “What a coincidence! Are you here for a walk too?”

Song Qingshuang paused slightly when she saw Lin Yuehe, a hint of surprise flickering in her usually cold eyes. “Sister-in-law? What are you doing here?”

Her gaze swept over the bamboo basket Lin Yuehe carried.

“I… I was bored at home and heard the scenery behind Yunyin Temple was lovely, so I… I came for a walk,” Lin Yuehe said, lowering her head self-consciously and twisting the hem of her robe, playing the part of a young wife who had snuck out for a stroll. “I never expected to run into you, Eldest Sister.”

Song Qingshuang studied her for a moment but didn’t press further, simply nodding slightly. “It is indeed peaceful here.”

The two naturally fell into step, walking slowly side by side along the narrow path through the bamboo grove.

The bamboo leaves rustled softly, sunlight dappling through the gaps in the canopy, creating an atmosphere that was quiet and subtly charged.

After walking a short distance, Lin Yuehe discreetly observed Song Qingshuang’s expression. She noticed fine beads of sweat on her forehead, and her breathing was slightly heavier than usual.

Though the mountain path wasn’t steep, it was still taxing for someone unaccustomed to physical exertion.

“Eldest Sister, you must be tired after walking so far,” Lin Yuehe suggested, pointing to a clean stone bench nearby. “Why don’t we rest our feet there?”

Song Qingshuang was indeed feeling tired, so she nodded.

The two sat down on the stone bench.

Lin Yuehe immediately opened the bamboo basket and first took out a clean cotton cloth to spread over the bench. “Eldest Sister,” she said softly, “the stone is cold.”

Song Qingshuang glanced at her, accepting this thoughtful gesture.

Next, Lin Yuehe retrieved a small ceramic jar wrapped in thick cloth and a bamboo cup from the basket.

She opened the jar, and a refreshing mint aroma immediately filled the air.

“This is mint drink I made myself,” Lin Yuehe said as she carefully poured the clear, emerald-green liquid into the bamboo cup and handed it to Song Qingshuang.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I crushed fresh mint leaves for the juice, then mixed it with a little honey and spring water. It’s perfect for relieving fatigue and quenching thirst. Will Eldest Sister try some?”

The mint drink was crystal clear and fragrant, making it especially tempting in the humid mountain air.

Song Qingshuang had walked quite a distance, and her throat was parched. Looking into Lin Yuehe’s sincere and expectant eyes, she swallowed the words of refusal that had risen to her lips.

She took the bamboo cup, her fingertips sensing the cool chill of well water.

She lowered her head and took a small sip.

Cool, slightly sweet, and with a strong yet refreshing mint aroma, the drink soothed her parched throat, dispelling some of the heat and fatigue from her walk. It left her feeling invigorated.

“Very good,” Song Qingshuang said, taking another sip before setting the cup down.

She looked at Lin Yuehe, her eyes filled with admiration. “Refreshing and sweet. You’re quite skilled at crafting these.”

Hearing this praise, Lin Yuehe’s smile bloomed, brighter than the sunlight.

“I’m glad Eldest Sister likes it. I also brought some homemade mint candies. They’re very refreshing to suck on.” She pulled a small paper packet from her basket, revealing several jade-green, dainty candies.

Song Qingshuang picked one up and put it in her mouth.

The cool sweetness melted instantly on her tongue, accompanied by an intense mint fragrance. She felt as if she were standing beside a cool mountain stream.

She closed her eyes briefly, savoring the rare comfort and tranquility. When she opened them again, her gaze toward Lin Yuehe had softened noticeably.

“You’re so thoughtful,” she murmured, her voice still cool and distant, but with a hint of warmth.

Lin Yuehe gazed at her relaxed expression, her slightly upturned lips and felt her heart fill with honey-sweet joy.

Afraid of revealing too much, she quickly lowered her head, pretending to rearrange the bamboo basket. “It’s nothing, really,” she said. “I’m just bored at home anyway…”

Bamboo shadows swayed in the breeze.

The two sat quietly on the stone bench, one slowly savoring a mint candy, the other fiddling with the bamboo basket. Though few words passed between them, a tranquil harmony flowed through the air.

For Lin Yuehe, simply sitting side by side and sharing this moment of peace was the greatest success of their “chance encounter.”

Ever since returning from Yunyin Temple, Lin Yuehe had worn a faint smile.

She replayed the quiet moment in the bamboo grove, savoring the memory of that approving remark: “You’re good at figuring these things out.”

Her barely concealed excitement didn’t escape the notice of her “ally,” Song Zhiyuan.

That night, just as Lin Yuehe was preparing for bed, a familiar rhythmic knock sounded from the inner room.

Lin Yuehe opened the door to find Song Zhiyuan slipping inside with practiced ease, closing it softly behind him.

His face was alight with a mischievous grin as he lowered his voice. “So, how did it go? You looked positively giddy when you got back, practically grinning from ear to ear. Seems today’s ‘chance encounter’ was quite fruitful, eh?”

Lin Yuehe’s cheeks flushed. She feigned composure as she walked to the table and poured herself a cup of water. “Fruitful? It was just a coincidence. We happened to run into each other, took a walk, and had a drink together.”

“Oh… a coincidence?” Song Zhiyuan drawled, dragging out the word as he sat down across from her, leaning forward with his elbows propped on the table. “I heard from one of the servants who accompanied Mother’s carriage that the Eldest Miss rested in the bamboo grove behind the mountain, and someone thoughtfully brought her a refreshing drink, homemade, no less! How could that possibly be a coincidence?”

Caught out, Lin Yuehe glared at him, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance in her eyes. “If you already know everything, why are you even asking me?”

“Just checking on my ally’s romantic progress!” Song Zhiyuan chuckled. “Come on, tell me! What was Eldest Sister’s reaction? Did she drink it? What did she say?”

Under his relentless questioning, Lin Yuehe finally couldn’t resist the urge to share. She recounted every detail of the day’s events in the bamboo grove, including how Song Qingshuang drank the mint drink, praised it, and how her expression softened considerably afterward.

Song Zhiyuan listened with rapt attention, stroking his chin thoughtfully at the end, analyzing the situation with the air of a seasoned strategist.

“Hmm, not bad, not bad at all! My Eldest Sister is notoriously picky; she rarely finds anything to her liking. For her to drink your drink and even compliment it means she has a very good impression of you! You’ve made a brilliant move, ally!”

His analysis made Lin Yuehe’s heart flutter with sweetness, but she still demurred modestly, “Maybe… maybe she was just being polite?”

“Polite?” Song Zhiyuan scoffed. “My Eldest Sister would never bother being polite to someone she doesn’t care about; she’d simply ignore them. If she’s being polite to you, it means she’s already taken notice of you!”

He paused, then leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But ally, I must warn you…”

“My eldest sister is so beautiful and talented. Even though… well, some things happened in the past that slowed her down, there are still plenty of people who want her.”

“You’d better work hard and make sure no one else gets to her first.”

Lin Yuehe’s heart skipped a beat, and a sudden sense of crisis washed over her. “Want her? Who?”

“Well, for starters, there’s the Zhang family, who runs the silk shop in town. Squire Zhang has hinted many times that he wants to marry his scholar son to my eldest sister.”

“And the County Magistrate’s Assistant’s son has also been asking my dad about her.”

Song Zhiyuan listed them off like precious treasures. “Even though my parents are still a bit… bothered by what happened to my eldest sister before, and they’re being picky, who knows when they might change their minds?”

As Lin Yuehe listened, her brow furrowed unconsciously, and her fingers tightened around her teacup.

She knew Song Qingshuang was wonderful, but she hadn’t realized there were so many potential “rivals.”

Scholar Zhang? The County Magistrate’s Assistant’s son? They don’t deserve Qingshuang-jie!

“But don’t worry too much,” Song Zhiyuan said, noticing her serious expression. He offered a reassuring smile, though his eyes twinkled mischievously.

My eldest sister wouldn’t pay any of those guys any attention.

“She’s a deep thinker,” Song Zhiyuan said, his gaze lingering on Lin Yuehe. “Ordinary men simply can’t capture her heart.”

“But you…” He gave Lin Yuehe a meaningful look. “Your subtle, almost imperceptible approach might be exactly what she needs.”

Lin Yuehe’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, yet his words brought a measure of calm to her heart.

Yes, I can’t rush things, nor can I retreat.

No matter how wonderful those men are, they have nothing to do with me.

I just need to keep doing what I’m doing: getting closer, little by little, letting Song Qingshuang grow accustomed to my presence and sense my feelings.

“I understand,” Lin Yuehe said, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Don’t mention it!” Song Zhiyuan waved his hand dismissively, then adopted a troubled expression. “Ah, compared to you, I’m the one who’s really worried. Physician Su is lovely, but I’m afraid to approach her too boldly, lest I offend the fair lady… or rather, the fair gentleman.”

The two continued to discuss their respective “romantic dilemmas” in hushed tones, offering each other advice (though most of it was rather impractical). They whispered conspiratorially, occasionally breaking into soft laughter.

Moonlight filtered through the window, while candlelight flickered inside.

After Song Zhiyuan’s “rival analysis,” the hazy affection in Lin Yuehe’s heart grew clearer.

She knew her position was precarious and her future uncertain, yet her desire to be close to Song Qingshuang only grew stronger, spreading uncontrollably.

That day, she carefully prepared several small desserts.

Using the freshest fruits and vegetables from her garden, combined with a touch of ingenuity and her special ability, she created translucent fruit and vegetable jellies, refreshing and not too sweet.

She also carefully marked the passages in Brief Records of Customs Beyond the Ridges that she still couldn’t understand. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into Song Qingshuang’s study once more.

“Eldest Sister,” she called softly from the doorway.

Song Qingshuang, who was practicing calligraphy by the window, set down her brush and looked up at the sound.

Seeing it was Lin Yuehe, her gaze fell on the food box in Lin Yuehe’s hand and the familiar book. Her expression showed no surprise; she merely nodded slightly. “Come in.”

Lin Yuehe approached and gently placed the food box on the corner of the desk. She opened the lid, revealing the neatly arranged, vibrantly colored jellies inside.

“Eldest Sister, I tried making some lianggao using freshly picked fruits from the garden. They’re sweet, refreshing, and perfect for beating the summer heat. Would you like to try one?” Her voice carried a cautious, hopeful tone, like a devotee offering a precious treasure as a sacrifice.

Song Qingshuang’s gaze swept over the delicate pastries before settling on Lin Yuehe’s lips, which were pressed together slightly in nervous anticipation. After a pause, she said softly, “How thoughtful of you.”

Instead of immediately taking a piece, she glanced at the book in Lin Yuehe’s hands. “Are there more passages you’re struggling with?”

“Yes,” Lin Yuehe replied quickly, flipping the book open to the pages marked with folded corners and pointing to the charcoal pencil annotations she had made.

“These classical allusions and the figurative language used to describe the scenery… I’ve pondered them for a long time, but I still can’t quite grasp their more profound meaning.”

As she leaned closer, Lin Yuehe could catch the crisp scent of ink mingling with the faint aroma of aged paper emanating from Song Qingshuang.

Song Qingshuang took the book, her slender fingers brushing over the pages, tracing the somewhat immature yet earnest annotations.

Instead of answering immediately, she picked up a piece of lianggao and took a small bite.

The pastry melted in her mouth, releasing a burst of sweet, fruity fragrance.

“It’s delicious,” she said, setting down the remaining half. After wiping her hands with a handkerchief, she turned her attention back to the book and began explaining in a calm voice.

“Here, the author uses synesthesia, describing the visual coolness of the mountains with the tactile sensation of ‘coldness.’ This intensifies their verdant depth and makes them feel even more refreshing…”

As Song Qingshuang explained, her pace was steady, neither hurried nor slow. She quoted classics and cited authorities, yet her explanations were clear and easy to understand.

Lin Yuehe stood beside her, leaning slightly forward, her gaze fixed on the characters Song Qingshuang’s fingertip traced across the page. She listened with rapt attention.

Perhaps it was the flutter in her heart, but Lin Yuehe found Song Qingshuang’s explanations even clearer and more insightful than those of some seasoned instructors.

Occasionally, Song Qingshuang would glance up to check if Lin Yuehe understood. Each time, Lin Yuehe’s heart seemed to skip a beat. She would nod hastily, her ears flushing crimson.

“So, do you understand now?” Song Qingshuang closed the book and looked at Lin Yuehe.

“Yes, I understand! Thank you, Eldest Sister!” Lin Yuehe nodded vigorously. “You know so much, and you explain things so clearly.”

Seeing Lin Yuehe’s undisguised admiration, Song Qingshuang’s fingers tightened slightly around the scroll.

She handed the book back to Lin Yuehe, her gaze sweeping over the remaining cool cakes in the food box. Her tone remained even as she said, “These sweets are quite good.”

This simple acknowledgment made Lin Yuehe’s heart burst with joy, like fireworks exploding in her chest. Suppressing her excitement, she lowered her head, her voice tinged with a cheerful lilt. “If Eldest Sister likes them, I’ll make them for you often!”

Song Qingshuang offered no response, merely unfurling a sheet of Xuan paper, picking up her brush, and saying calmly, “If there’s nothing else, I’ll continue practicing my calligraphy.”

This was clearly a dismissal.

Though reluctant to leave, Lin Yuehe knew better than to overstay her welcome. “Then I won’t bother you any longer, Eldest Sister,” she said quickly. “I’ll head back now.”

She picked up the book and food box, her steps light as she retreated.

At the doorway, she couldn’t resist glancing back.

Song Qingshuang sat upright at her desk, her posture elegant and poised. Her wrist hovered above the paper as she brought the brush down with steady strokes, her profile bathed in the soft light, radiating a serene beauty.

Only after Lin Yuehe’s footsteps faded down the corridor did Song Qingshuang slowly set down her brush.

She gazed at the character “静” (quiet) she had just written on the Xuan paper, the brushstrokes seeming less rigid than usual.

Her gaze shifted to the delicate, translucent, cool cakes in the food box. She reached out, picked up another piece, and brought it to her lips.

The sweet, refreshing taste remained, carrying the same vibrant energy and clumsy yet sincere warmth as the person who had brought them.

Back in her own room, Lin Yuehe cradled the book, still warm from Song Qingshuang’s fingertips and fragrant with ink. Recalling every moment in the study;  each glance, each word—she buried her face in her soft pillow and laughed silently.

Unrequited love was a one-person show, yet in this performance, she found joy.

That made it an excellent one-person show.

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