Wisteria Fragrance

The sun glinted dully on the thin rivulet of water. Xuxian chatted on while Bai sat as still and graceful as a statue, stealing wordless glances at him as she ate her pancake quietly.

"My neighbour Granny Hong gave me one of her chicks today. She told me to keep it carefully and it can lay eggs for me when it's grown. It is a helpless little thing, with the softest down and the tiniest little feet. You would like it. One day, if you wish, I will bring it for you to play with."

He shook the crumbs out from his handkerchief. "There is a wisteria tree in my garden that has blossomed, just when I thought it was too late in the season to expect any flowers from it. The sweetness hangs in the air like a melody. Every morning when I wake up and open my windows, the fragrance comes wafting in on the wind. The blossoms are tiny little things, but the most beautiful purplish-blue."

Reaching into his breast, he fumbled for a while, then held out his hand to her. A lobe of wisteria blossoms lay on his palm, giving off a faint fragrance. The petals were a delicate blue, kissed with the faintest breath of purple.

Suzhen drew closer, fascinated. She put out a hand tentatively and touched the petals, wonderingly.

"Some of the flowers got crushed," he apologized, "but the fragrance is still there."

She closed her eyes, the better to savour it. Xuxian watched how a ray of sunlight lit up her fine eyelashes so they looked gold-tipped. How gentle she was, he thought fondly, and so child-like in many ways he could not understand, yet which only made him love her more. And yet, like the many times she had surprised him and left him speechless or confused, he had a strange feeling that she was more powerful than she seemed. He wondered what her story was, and how she had come to be on the mountains by her own. How she had survived, and how she knew qinggong--he had never studied martial arts, but even to an ignorant person like himself clearly her lightness kungfu was at an advanced level.

And yet, he thought incredulously, she never talked about her prowess, or behaved self-consciously. Never had he met anyone who was so mysterious, yet so simple; so talented, yet so naive; so affectionate, yet so reserved. He was not worthy of her, he thought with a pang. But the heavens had brought them together again, and she had been so hopeful, so eager to see him-- something he would not have dared to dream of. Few women of her class--for it was clear, whatever her family background was, that she was no common person--would have shown attention to a lowly physician like him. To be sure, her open, easy manner was unlike any highborn lady he had ever met, and at times he felt intimidated by how straightforward and uninhibited she was. Yet there was nothing bold or forward, it was more like a child's ingenuousness.

He told himself that he would simply enjoy whatever he was given, whatever time they had together. He would share his heart with her, whether or not she cared for him, and be content with whatever she was willing to give him. To be with her like this was already enough.

"It is very sweet." she breathed.

"They remind me of you," he said softly. "Every memory I have of you is like these wisteria blossoms, giving off sweetness. I wanted to show them to you; I want to show you everything which gives me joy, which I love, because they remind me of you."

Suzhen stared unseeingly at the flowers. When she finally spoke her voice was low and constrained, as if a tightness in her chest oppressed her. "I am not like you, Xuxian. We are different."

The words would not come to her lips. She struggled for a while, then gave up.

Desperately, she burst out, "We should not spend too much time together. You should not--you should not think of me so much."

There was a long silence, so long she was forced to look at him.

"You are right," he said simply and humbly, with a new thoughtfulness in his face. "It is not right of me to press my feelings on you, when we are so clearly of different stations, and it could only burden you. Forgive me, for making you uncomfortable." He faltered. "It was foolish of me."

She watched him, with large miserable dark eyes, as he took something white and crumpled out from his breast. "I ought to have returned this to you earlier, but I wanted to have something of yours to remember you by, as I did not know if I would see you again. Your handkerchief. I used it to wrap the wisteria flowers in," he explained, smoothing it out. "Please take it, and pardon me for acting presumptuously."

As if in a dream, she took the flimsy piece of material. Xuxian hesitated, then reluctantly but resolutely rose and made her a low bow. "Please take care of yourself, Miss Bai." he said earnestly, and gathered up his belongings.

He turned. He was walking away. And though his feet lingered, he did not turn back.

Something in Suzhen's throat worked and she uttered a small hurt sound.

Bai Suzhen sprang to her feet, casting the handkerchief away. She darted after him and caught his arm.

"Xuxian!"

Tightening her grasp, she searched wildly for words. "Xuxian. Don't go."

"You--want me to stay?" he said slowly.

"Yes. Yes!" She swallowed, lips quivering. "We can--we can go digging for ginseng. Or we can just sit here too, if you wish. Anything at all. I love the wisteria blossoms, and I want to see the baby chick." Her words tumbled out anxiously, ending in a sound like a sob.

"You want me to stay?" Xuxian repeated softly.

She nodded. "Stay."

He gently took the hands clinging to his arm into his own. "I'll stay."