At the end of the Yuan Dynasty, they called me a demonic monk.

After the banquet, Fang Yingyu politely declined the Ruan siblings' offer to take him home in a carriage, and walked alone on the road back to the village. As the sun set, his figure stood forlorn, and he touched the wooden hairpin in his pocket, his heart filled with both sweetness and bitterness.

Alone at night, Fang Yingyu gazed at the starry sky. The aftermath of the temple fair brawl left him deeply troubled. The cold moonlight sent a chill down his spine. If it weren't for the Ruan family's protection, Zhao Mingxuan's summons of the officials would have landed him in jail again. He saw more clearly the gap between himself and Ruan Shanruo, a gap like an insurmountable chasm that made him even more hesitant to approach her. A person in such dire straits simply couldn't live with the pride a young man should possess.

On Ruan Shanruo's eighteenth birthday, the Ruan residence was brightly decorated and filled with guests. The vermilion gate was wide open, and the large red lanterns hanging high above the gate swayed gently in the wind.

She wore a newly tailored lotus-root-colored silk dress, with a jade hairpin from her mother's dowry adorning her hair. Standing under the corridor, she kept looking towards the main gate. Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the sweat-soaked invitation in her sleeve—it was handwritten by her, the handwriting much neater than usual.

"Miss, Madam Zhao has arrived. She requests your presence and greetings," the maid Qiaoyun whispered from behind.

Ruan Shanruo reluctantly averted her gaze and followed Qiaoyun toward the main hall. As they passed through the courtyard, she saw her younger brother, Ruan Yichen, exchanging pleasantries with several young masters from prominent families, but his eyes kept glancing toward the gate.

"Hasn't Young Master Fang arrived yet?" She quietly tugged at her brother's sleeve when no one was looking.

Ruan Yichen shook his head and lowered his voice, saying, "I sent Afu to check at the main gate, but there's not a sound at all!"

Ruan Shanruo felt as if an invisible hand was gripping her heart. She recalled the flickering look in Fang Yingyu's eyes when he agreed to attend the banquet at Zuixianlou that day. At the time, she thought he was just shy, but now she realized that it was clearly more hesitation and struggle.

The banquet lasted from noon until the sun began to set. Ruan Shanru mechanically responded to the congratulations from the guests, her smile growing increasingly stiff. Every time she heard a noise at the door, she would involuntarily look up, but that familiar figure never appeared.

During the banquet, "Shanruo is feeling unwell and must take her leave." She stood up abruptly, ignoring her mother's astonished gaze and the sidelong glances of the guests, and hurriedly left her seat.

The carved wooden door to her boudoir was slammed shut. Ruan Shanru tore off the jewels from her head, letting her black hair fall loose over her shoulders. Outside the window, the faint sounds of congratulatory music could be heard, and finally, tears welled up in her eyes, dripping onto the jewelry scattered on her dressing table.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Ruan Shanru changed into her simplest clothes and quietly slipped out of the Ruan residence through the back door.

Although she was riding a horse, the dirt road to Sanlipu was more rugged than any of her previous visits. Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, several women washing clothes curiously observed this unexpected guest.

Under the women's meaningful gazes, she finally arrived at the Fang family's house at the east end of the village. A low earthen wall surrounded a thatched hut, the wooden door ajar, with faded Spring Festival couplets still pasted on the door. She took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door knocker.

"Yingyu, you forgot to bring—" Fang Xiaohe pushed open the door, his words abruptly ending. He was holding the bag of dry rations that Fang Yingyu had forgotten to take.

"Miss Ruan?"

Ruan Shanruo's gaze passed over Fang Xiaohe's shoulder and landed on the simple furnishings in the room: a rickety wooden table, two repaired rattan chairs, and animal hides and bows and arrows piled in the corner. It was hard to imagine that Fang Yingyu had honed her solid martial arts skills in such an environment.

"Young Master Fang, I apologize for disturbing you." She gave a slight bow. "I...I've come to see your younger brother."

Fang Xiaohe's expression became complicated. He stepped aside to make way for her: "Come in and sit down. Yingyu should be back soon."

A faint scent of herbs filled the room. Ruan Shanruo sat down in the wicker chair and noticed the crooked little characters carved on the corner of the table—"Carved by Yingyu at the age of seven." She couldn't help but trace the childish strokes with her finger, imagining what it was like for young Fang Yingyu to live here.

"Why is Miss Ruan alone today? Did your brother not come?" Fang Xiaohe handed over a bowl of coarse tea and asked directly.

Ruan Shanruo's hand trembled, spilling tea onto her skirt, and her eyes reddened: "He promised to attend my birthday banquet, but I don't understand, since he promised, why..."

"Because he saw his own predicament." Fang Xiaohe's voice lowered. "Miss Ruan, you are ultimately different from us!"

Ruan Shanruo suddenly stood up, but accidentally knocked over her teacup. "I don't care about any of this!" Her voice trembled with emotion. "I already said it at Zuixianlou, I don't care!"

"But he cares." Fang Xiaohe looked directly into her eyes. "Yingyu has known her place since she was little. The money your Ruan family spends on one meal is enough for our family to live on for a long time. Such a gap cannot be bridged by simply saying 'I don't care.'"

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the courtyard, and Fang Xiaohe looked up alertly. The wooden door was pushed open, and Fang Yingyu appeared in the doorway carrying a bow and arrows on her back and a wild rabbit in her hand. When he saw Ruan Shanruo inside the house, he was struck dumb, and the prey fell to the ground with a thud.

"You—how did you get here?"

The moment Ruan Shanruo turned around, tears finally broke free. She rushed to Fang Yingyu in three strides: "You promised me! Why didn't you come? Do you know how long I've waited?"

Fang Yingyu's face turned deathly pale. He instinctively took a half step back, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I...I went, right outside the door. But..." His gaze fell on Ruan Shanruo's magnificent skirt, his voice trailing off, "I saw so many high-ranking officials and nobles, and...and..."

"You just ran away?" Ruan Shanruo's voice trembled with tears. "Fang Yingyu, you weren't afraid of Zhao Mingxuan, but you're worried about what those unrelated people will think?"

Fang Yingyu's fists clenched until they turned white. He wanted to say that it was different, that the difference in their social status was like an insurmountable chasm, that he didn't want to become a stain on her reputation that people would point fingers at. But all the words stuck in his throat, turning into an almost inaudible sigh.

Ruan Shanruo suddenly grabbed his wrist with surprising force. "Come with me." She pulled Fang Yingyu out, completely ignoring Fang Xiaohe's calls from behind.

The two walked to the stream behind the village. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the water's surface, and the babbling brook seemed to be singing a sad and confused song.

Ruan Shanruo released her grip, and in front of Fang Yingyu, removed all the jewels from her hair, took off her embroidered shoes, and stepped barefoot into the stream. The cool water reached her ankles and soaked her skirt, but she paid no heed.

"Look," she turned to Fang Yingyu, who stood frozen on the shore, "aside from these things, I'm no different from you."