The White Jade Pendant Broke, and She Kept the Secret from Her for a Lifetime

Chen Xinyue’s life went smoothly. Her husband was considerate, and her daughter was well-behaved.

No one knew that she always wore two delicate white jade buttons around her neck, one engraved with “Xin” and the other with “Su.”

Even fewer knew that she kept a faded red cord hidden inside her sock, around her ankle.

She had once hated Shen Sujun, who taught her about the deserts of the Western Regions on the banks of the Qinhuai River. She hated her cowardice, hated that she had let go.

But when the letter, three years late, was unfolded beneath the lamplight, Chen Xinyue wept uncontrollably.

So Shen Sujun had always watched her from behind a second-floor window. And the bitter medicine sent to Suzhou really had carried the sweet scent of osmanthus.

“I don’t hate you.”

Those four words, sent in reply, became the only comfort Shen Sujun had as she sat alone on the top floor of a flower boat for the rest of her life.

The osmanthus blossoms in Jiangnan bloom year after year, but the girl who once embroidered egrets on handkerchiefs never returned to Zui Chun Feng.