Chapter 11: Tangled Threads Disturb the Face, Idleness Hastens the Aging Countryside

“Madam, I will be busy with you,” Guan Yin said, writing down the heart of a teacher and mechanically filling in the content as before. Watching Liu Jiao’an stay up late copying the manuscript, Guan Yin felt a pang of bitterness.

Both were young women, and even without the entanglements of past affairs, seeing Liu Jiao’an rise early and work late stirred a sense of guilt in Guan Yin. This time the manuscript was handed over, but the next one had no clear direction yet. Guan Yin did not want to wait idly; she only wished to do whatever she could.

“What will you be busy with me for?” Liu Jiao’an lifted her embroidery hoop with a smile. “To accompany me in embroidery, or to go to the market selling embroidery?”

Seeing Guan Yin hesitating to speak, Liu Jiao’an smiled helplessly and sent Sanheng in to bring a newly purchased garment for her to see. “If the embroidery threads prick your hands, you won’t be able to write.”

At a moment like this, still thinking of buying herself a new dress, even knowing Liu Jiao’an’s care was meant for the original owner, Guan Yin’s fingertips trembled at such sisterly affection. She reached out and stroked the summer cloth garment. “I mean, I can go tea picking with you…”

When Guan Yin was a child, her family had a tea garden; she had even plucked the young leaves from the tea trees herself. She felt she could still be of help.

“What I mean is, maybe you can lighten your load a bit.” Guan Yin knew that when Liu Jiao’an’s mother still held the tea garden, they could afford workers to maintain it. Now… whatever she could help with was something.

“You don’t know how,” Liu Jiao’an said, looking at Guan Yin as if coaxing a child. “Be good. Your health isn’t fully restored yet. Don’t get caught in the dew or catch a cold, or you might injure yourself.”

“I actually…” Guan Yin thought she could manage, but would the original owner?

The surroundings fell silent with Guan Yin’s words. The orchid scent that had drifted apart settled back into the tea cup, as if everything awaited the lady of this small courtyard’s next words.

At this moment, Guan Yin regretted her recklessness. What if the original owner truly didn’t know how to pick tea? If she exposed herself… The gentle care Liu Jiao’an showed the original would vanish. A refined young lady like her surely had reasons to make survival difficult for others!

“Alright, if you feel bored inside, just come out for a walk with me,” Liu Jiao’an said, her smile stirring the stillness. Everything began to move again, the sweet, dewy orchid scent swirling once more around the two.

They fell silent again, neither daring to speak of thoughts or requests. Until Liu Jiao’an’s gaze fell on Sanheng, who nodded and said, “Madam, rest assured, Sanheng will take care of the household.”

“Good, let’s go.”

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Last night’s light rain had disturbed the clouds shrouding the mountaintop, revealing a glimpse of pine shadows. The ground had grown muddier and more slippery. Guan Yin stumbled slightly; the crack of tea branches and her cries of pain followed in quick succession.

Before Liu Jiao’an turned back, Guan Yin hurriedly tidied herself, pulling her robe’s hem to shield a half-fallen tea tree, hiding her “misdeed.”

Fortunately, Liu Jiao’an merely glanced around, examining Guan Yin from every angle before turning back to pluck tea leaves and place them in her tall bamboo basket.

Liu Jiao’an walked ahead, carrying a bamboo basket taller than half a person. Guan Yin trailed behind, initially stepping unevenly but soon learning to follow Liu Jiao’an’s footsteps—holding a small bamboo basket no bigger than a palm.

A stranger might think the basket was a child’s insect-catching container; Guan Yin felt as if Liu Jiao’an was coaxing a child!

Feeling underestimated, Guan Yin pinched a seemingly tender leaf, carefully placing it in her basket, blowing gently on it for any lingering dew.

Liu Jiao’an walked briskly. At this season, if they lingered until midday when the temperature rose, the field’s moisture would evaporate quickly. The exposed soil would begin to crack, making it uncomfortable for workers.

“Be careful,” Liu Jiao’an called back, only to see Guan Yin stubbornly pluck a leaf beyond the usual one bud and one leaf, then fiercely toss it into her basket, fearing she might fall into the tea bushes.

Pouting, Guan Yin nodded, frowning as she wondered if Liu Jiao’an had noticed her small defiance.

Young women married early in those days, forced to mature quickly. Whether original or not, Guan Yin’s age was younger than Liu Jiao’an’s.

“One leaf, one leaf… ah, it was so hard back then…”

Guan Yin recalled how, as a child, she had insisted on grabbing the large basket, filling its bottom crudely with handfuls of leaves, which were barely even as deep as her little fist.

When returned, her basket contained fewer than eleven properly sized leaves.

“Ouch.”

Lost in thought, Guan Yin paid no attention to her steps. Even when Liu Jiao’an slowed at the path’s end, she failed to notice and bumped into the basket.

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Seeing Guan Yin rubbing her forehead with guilt, Liu Jiao’an withdrew her hand, rubbing them together. “Hey, why don’t you watch your step?”

“I…” Guan Yin belatedly realized she truly behaved like a spoiled child.

“Let me see your hand, make sure it’s not cut by the bamboo strips,” Liu Jiao’an said without minding Guan Yin’s embarrassed hum, stopping and carefully setting her basket down on a nearby mound of earth, her gaze almost piercing through Guan Yin’s raised palm.

“It’s alright, just a little red,” Guan Yin said nonchalantly, making Liu Jiao’an purse her lips. Tugging lightly at her robe’s hem, she sighed softly and advised, “You were lucky this time. Be more careful from now on!”

“Okay.”

Aside from parents and close kin, few people in these busy times would pause to tenderly inquire about such small bumps and bruises. Even if they did, it would be from truly close friends who cared deeply.

Guan Yin’s heart was inevitably touched.

Still, the leaf in her hand was barely a fist’s depth, and looking at it, Guan Yin felt ridiculous—clearly, she had come to help, but it seemed she was only causing trouble.

Lost in thought, a hand stretched out before her—not flawless jade, but familiar. Guan Yin turned her head and met Liu Jiao’an’s face.

“Don’t pinch; just gently snap it off. Otherwise, dirt on your hands will contaminate the tea leaves.”

The words were familiar, reminiscent of a relative’s advice from her childhood. Guan Yin gazed at Liu Jiao’an’s face, and through her, saw the carefree days of her youth.