At a spring banquet in the twelfth year of Yongning, Shen Yanci, the most taciturn young gentleman in the capital, met Su Lingyi, the most forthright young woman in Jiangnan. He sat alone in a corner, ignored by everyone. She deliberately took the seat across from him and remarked that the osmanthus cake was too rich. On a whim, he pushed a cup of almond tea toward her. She accepted it without hesitation, and so began the sweet romance of a “silent man and a straight-shooting girl.”
He remembered every passing remark she made. When she complained that the osmanthus cake was too sweet, he traveled ten miles to buy cherry pastries. When she was afraid of thunder, he secretly sent her calming incense. She said, “Knowing how to love someone is a wonderful thing.” He remembered those words for the rest of his life, and spent that life living by them. Their nightly “six questions” became a ritual that lasted a lifetime.
But their happiness came to an abrupt end. Shen Yanci impeached powerful officials at court and was poisoned by his political enemies. As he lay dying, all he managed to say was, “In our next life, I’ll find you again.” The Shen family fell apart, and his parents died one after another. Su Lingyi returned to Yangzhou with their five-year-old son, Nian'an.
For thirteen years, she endured in silence. She raised her son and helped him study while running a business, building an intelligence network, and gathering evidence. Nian'an passed the imperial examinations and became the top scholar. He pleaded their case before the emperor, clearing Shen Yanci's name. When she had done all that, she went to find him with a smile.
“In our next life, I’ll wait for you. Come back soon.”
A dead tree blooms again, and spring is never late. This is a story about remembering and waiting. When someone remembers your offhand words for a lifetime, they deserve a lifetime of your devotion in return.
