4. Closer than you imagine

XIAO MEI NARRATES

Since Li arrived, something began to transform in my life. At first, I didn't know how to describe it. It was just a faint sensation, like the scent of an unknown flower floating in the air. But as the days passed, it became impossible to ignore.

The mornings felt lighter. I laughed for no apparent reason. Even the maids noticed. Lin, my longtime maid, was the first to mention it:

—Since he arrived, you look like a different person,— Lin told me as she braided my hair. —Even the cherry trees bloom faster.

—Don't talk nonsense,— I replied with a forced smile, although inside... I didn't know how to contradict her because it was true.

Since his arrival, I... laughed more. I slept better. I caught myself expecting to find him in the hallways, searching for his gaze without wanting to admit it. Even in moments of silence, his mere presence brought a special peace. And yet, it was a strange peace... because it also brought a restlessness. One I didn't fully understand, but one I loved.

Li had changed too. He was kinder, more attentive, though he didn't seem to notice. There was something about the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't noticing that intrigued me and at the same time I wanted to discover it.

The trees were like old guardians from my childhood, and I loved losing myself among their roots. But this time, we were alone. There were no maids. No guards. Just him and me. And the wind.

—Don't you miss your homeland?— I asked as we walked through the dry leaves.

It took Li a few seconds to answer. His voice sounded softer than usual.

—I can't miss something I don't have.

I stopped to look at him. He stopped too.

-What do you mean?

—My land was lost a long time ago. And with it... everything I once was.

I wanted to dig deeper, but the expression on his face stopped me. There was a shadow in his eyes, an invisible but palpable wound.

—Maybe,— I said gently, —sometimes it's not about reclaiming the land... but about finding a new place to put down roots.

—And do you think this could be that place?

—I don't know. But you're here, aren't you? Something brought you here.

Li didn't respond, but his eyes remained fixed on mine longer than usual. Then he lowered his gaze, and we continued walking.

We walked along a damp stone path. Moss clung to the cracks, and I tried to avoid it, but it was no use. I slipped.

Before I fell, his arm wrapped around me firmly and pulled me into his chest. The world stopped. My breathing mingled with his. His warmth, his closeness... disarmed me.

—Are you okay?— he asked, almost in a whisper.

—Yes... it was just a stumble.

We didn't move. His hand remained on my waist, his body pressed against mine. I could feel his heartbeat.

—I should let you go,— he murmured.

—Yes... —I answered, but I didn't do anything.

The moment felt long and brief at the same time. An eternal instant that was broken only when one of the birds took flight.

We separated quickly, as if the air had changed temperature.

—I'm sorry,— we said in unison. And we both laughed nervously.

The walk back was slower. Partly because of the tense silence that had settled between us, but also because my ankle was starting to hurt. Every step felt like a stabbing pain.

Finally, I tripped and fell down among the roots of an old tree.

—I can't anymore,— I admitted, feeling embarrassed. —I twisted my ankle earlier.

Li knelt beside me. He examined my foot carefully, without touching it yet.

—It's not broken,— he said. "But you shouldn't force it.

—I can walk...

—No.

He stood up and turned his back on me.

—Get in,— he ordered, his voice firm.

—Excuse me?

—I'm going to take you back. No discussion.

I hesitated, but his tone left no room for protest. I climbed onto his back, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms.

During the walk, neither of them said a word. But that walk spoke volumes. His steps were steady. His breath was firm. And I, for the first time in a long time... felt cared for.

Upon arrival, he arranged everything with precision:

—Bring the doctor. Call Mr. Xiao. Prepare hot water and clean bandages.

He led me to my room. He gently laid me down, and just before he left, our eyes met once more.

I wanted to say something to him. Thank you, maybe. Or something deeper, more dangerous. But I remained silent.

Minutes later, I heard my father rush into the house. I intercepted him outside my room.

—What happened?— he asked.

—An accident. It was just a sprain, but I carried her to avoid complications.

—Come with me.

And so, he took him to his study, leaving me alone with Lin, who looked at me somewhat curiously.

—Sometimes I wish I were a fly so I could know what my father wants to talk to Li about,— I said, thinking out loud.

Lin just gave a light laugh and then started helping me get settled in bed.

(...)

NARRATED BY KIRAN/LI BAO

When Xiao Mei's father called me into his study, I followed him silently. I knew this was coming. Carrying her in my arms had been inevitable, but it had also revealed too much.

The study was dimly lit, filled with the scent of ink and aged wood. Mr. Xiao offered me tea before sitting opposite me.

—How is my daughter?

—Her ankle is sprained, but there's no fracture. The doctor is examining her. She'll be fine.

—Thanks for bringing her back.

I nodded silently. I'd already learned that, in this house, silences spoke louder than words.

—You brought it yourself, didn't you?

—Yes. She was in pain from the sprain. She couldn't walk on her own.

He poured the tea with slow movements, as if he were weighing each word he was going to say.