Chapter 60 Another Willow Catkin Ci Poem

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In the study, Jiang Nian sat alone by the writing desk, sipping the fragrant tea that Xiang Ling had poured for him. Xiang Ling had already gone out for lunch. At that moment, a soft, gentle voice called from the doorway, “Master.”

Jiang Nian lifted his eyes toward the entrance and saw Xue Baochai standing there, blushing shyly. He said calmly, “Come in.”

Baochai stepped into the study but glanced back at the door with a restrained demeanor.

He Yunyun and his wife, along with the servants, were not dining in the main hall at the moment, though some servants were tidying up the space.

Understanding this, Jiang Nian said to Baochai, “If you wish to close the door, go ahead.”

Baochai felt a relief in her heart, thinking how attentive this master truly was, and gently shut the door. The moment it closed, the study became especially serene.

Jiang Nian looked up at Baochai with a playful smile. He did not speak but waited quietly for her to explain her purpose.

Seeing that Jiang Nian did not ask, Baochai bit her lip, trying to ease her nervousness and shyness. She took a deep breath, then pulled out a flower-patterned letter from her sleeve and asked softly, “Is this what you had my brother send me on your birthday?”

Jiang Nian nodded slightly, his tone calm: “Yes.”

Baochai unfolded the letter and looked at the writing, her expression a mix of shyness and admiration. “Your calligraphy is beautiful, and this poem ‘Immortal by the River: Willow Fluff’ is even better—its imagery is profound. I truly love it.”

Jiang Nian smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”

Summoning her courage, Baochai lifted her gaze to meet Jiang Nian’s eyes, a hint of flattery coloring her face. “Before, I didn’t know, but now I do—Master, you are both a man of letters and of arms. Skilled in martial arts, adept at calligraphy and poetry, and so diligent in your studies.”

Her words were sincere yet deliberately ingratiating.

Now that she lived with Jiang Nian, she regarded herself as one of his closest companions and had started, as Aunt Xue advised, to win his favor—for both the Xue family and herself.

After all, she was the Xue Baochai who had once written, “Good winds lend their strength, lifting me to the blue clouds.”

Jiang Nian immediately sensed her flattery and relished the feeling. With a faint smile and deep eyes, he said, “Baochai, you are beautiful, intelligent, and gifted. I am a man of letters and arms. We are a match made in heaven. No wonder we are so destined to be together.”

Baochai was speechless.

She had called him “Master,” yet he addressed her by her childhood name, Baochai, and uttered such shameless words of affection.

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Baochai’s heart pounded like a drum, though her breath grew light.

She struggled to contain her intense shyness and dared not meet Jiang Nian’s eyes. She lowered her head slightly and said, “On your birthday, my mother sent Madame Xie to deliver a set of clothes and a pair of shoes and socks to you. Do you remember that?”

Jiang Nian nodded. “Of course I do. I had hoped you would bring me a gift yourself, but you did not.”

Baochai’s eyes brightened, and the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “Actually, I did give you a gift that day.”

Jiang Nian raised his brow in surprise. “Oh? You did? How come I didn’t know?”

A blush tinged Baochai’s face as she coyly smiled. “My mother sent someone to buy a pair of shoes for you from the clothing shop at the river post station, but I… I secretly replaced those shoes with a pair I made myself and gave those to you instead.”

“Is that so?” Jiang Nian smiled gently. “So you had already made a pair of shoes for me back then? That means you liked me already in Jiangning, which is why you had prepared the shoes for me.”

Baochai’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and she quickly explained, “No… it wasn’t like that. Those shoes were originally made for my brother but were temporarily given as a gift to you.”

Jiang Nian’s smile deepened. “I see. No wonder those shoes didn’t fit me.”

Baochai was silent.

In this era, shoes were not sized as precisely as in Jiang Nian’s previous life. They were only roughly labeled by “foot number,” which meant ordering by “which foot,” often resulting in poor fit.

Besides ordering by foot number, other shoe-buying methods included custom orders, trying on shoes in the shop, or having feet measured at home—all of which could vary in accuracy and cost.

Custom orders involved measuring and recording the foot's shape, size, and special requirements at the shoe shop.

Trying on shoes involved physically testing the fit at the store.

Home measurements, the most expensive, were usually chosen by wealthy families.

At this moment, Baochai said, “I remember my mother sent someone to ask about your foot number, which was the same as my brother’s.”

Jiang Nian replied, “Even if they are the same number, your brother’s feet and mine are different, so the shoes didn’t fit.”

Baochai hesitated briefly, then shyly said, “I wasn’t careful enough in my thoughts. Should I make you a new pair of shoes?”

Jiang Nian smiled slightly and suddenly extended one foot, teasing, “Then you can start by measuring my foot.”

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Baochai was stunned, instinctively thinking that the overbearing Master Jiang was serious. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the pear blossom pattern on her sleeve, her cheeks deepening in blush as if bathed in the glow of the sunset. She lowered her head almost burying it in her neck.

Seeing Baochai so embarrassed she seemed to want to disappear, Jiang Nian chuckled softly. “I was only joking. No need to take it seriously.”

Baochai immediately relaxed and gave Jiang Nian a subtle eye-roll.

Although she was already trying to win Jiang Nian’s favor, she had just recently come to live here. Being asked to measure his feet now was still unbearably embarrassing.

After all, she was the dignified and self-respecting Xue Baochai.

Finding Baochai’s demeanor amusing, Jiang Nian said, “There’s no need to measure. Just take one of my shoes and use it as a model.”

Baochai responded with a soft “Mm,” clearly pleased. “That sounds perfect.”

Jiang Nian shifted the subject and looked intently at Baochai. “On my birthday, I gave you a flower-patterned letter and a poem you liked. You secretly gave me a pair of shoes that day. So, in a way, we exchanged tokens of affection. Wouldn’t you say so?”

Baochai blushed deeply again. Oh heavens, that had been her very thought on that day—now spoken aloud by Jiang Nian himself!

Seeing her so flustered, Jiang Nian smiled and said, “Yesterday, I learned you would come today, so I wrote another short poem for you, again to the tune of ‘Immortal by the River,’ still titled ‘Willow Fluff.’ This poem is for you as well.”

Baochai’s eyes brightened, and anticipation showed on her face. “Really?”

Jiang Nian immediately drew a flower-patterned letter from the stack on his desk and handed it to her.

Baochai quickly took it. As she unfolded the letter, she saw no other words, only a single poem recorded:

“Immortal by the River: Willow Fluff.”

The poem read:

“Pure snow fills the sky, dancing lightly,
Wandering threads coil like cloud patterns.
Clinging to clothes, brushing temples, falling in flurries.
Not drifting with the stream, preferring to ride the wind’s dust.
Twisting and turning, never dispersed,
What harm in parting and gathering like smoky traces?
Life is but a drifting root.
Clear frost crystallizes the jade soul,
Silver river crossing the ice-bound spirit.”