Chúndù sat beneath the shade of a small pavilion in her private courtyard—a space much larger than Bǎihé's, yet markedly plainer. Fewer blossoms graced the garden. There were no bursts of vibrant color, no sweet floral perfumes drifting through the breeze. Instead, hardy plants filled the space—flycatchers, medicinal herbs, and tucked a few feet away from the shade, a single shriveled tree.
The tree stood crooked, barren of fruit, barely sprouting a handful of brittle leaves. It offered no shade, no fragrance, no beauty. It stood only because Chúndù had allowed it to. Sometimes, in its quiet stubbornness, she saw herself. Perhaps that was why she hadn't yet cut it down.
Before her sat a low wooden table arranged with food—mostly vegetables, slices of melon, lightly salted cucumbers, and a small basket of freshly steamed buns. Her favorites.
Haun, her sister who had earlier helped her cross the bridge, sat beside her. The two of them hungrily dug into their meal, having skipped breakfast in the bustle of the morning.
"Jie jie Chúndù," Haun said between bites, "this cucumber and mushroom salad tastes amazing! I can't believe this is my first time trying it."
"I told you," Chúndù replied with a smile, pushing the bamboo basket toward her. "Try the steamed buns. They're my absolute favorite."
Haun shook her head with a playful grimace. "I don't like steamed buns that much."
"What?!" Chúndù gasped, wide-eyed. "Who doesn't like steamed buns?"
"Well, I don't," Haun said matter-of-factly. "I prefer noodles."
"Steamed buns over noodles is blasphemy! This means war!" Chúndù declared, pointing her chopsticks in mock threat.
Both girls burst into laughter, their voices echoing gently through the quiet courtyard.
"I still can't believe Father is finally returning," Haun said, her tone softening with emotion. "It's been what now... almost a year and a half? I thought we'd be celebrating the New Year without him."
"At least now we won't have to tiptoe around Mother's sour moods," Chúndù muttered, biting into a soft bun.
"But who's to say Father won't leave again on another rescue expedition in a few days?" she added with a weary sigh, rolling her eyes.
Haun beamed. "Still... I'm so excited for tonight's celebration."
Chúndù looked over, a knowing glint in her eyes. A sly smile crept onto her lips as she leaned in.
"Are you excited to see Father... or Duyi?"
"Uhm!" Haun choked lightly on a piece of fruit, her cheeks flushing.
"I-I think I should get back to my courtyard," she stammered, quickly stuffing one last spoonful of salad into her mouth as she stood. "I need to start getting ready!"
"Haun! Come back! We're not done talking!" Chúndù called after her, laughing so hard she nearly choked on her own food.
"Sorry, jie jie! I have to go—bye!" Haun waved hastily and ran off down the corridor, her voice fading with each step.
Chúndù shook her head in amused disbelief and reached for a small porcelain cup of cool water. She sipped slowly, then placed the cup back on the table with a soft clink.
"Silly girl," she murmured with a smile.
She leaned back beneath the shade, savoring the calm moment alone.
"More food for me, then," she added in a cheerful whisper, lifting another bun with her chopsticks and biting into it contentedly.