Either way, he’d be singled out and isolated.
Qin Siyu considered his options and decided to hold back for the moment. When they assigned the “dance partners,” he would decide how to respond based on his partner’s reaction.
But the organizer had scarcely finished explaining the rules with an awkward expression when Aston stepped forward yet again. He stopped before the staff member and looked down at them. “There’s no need to draw lots.”
The organizer: “…Hmm?”
“I was the one who asked him to stay,” Aston said. “You may consider him my guest.”
He hadn’t raised his voice, but a current of unrest rippled through the ballroom.
Everyone had clearly heard him say, “He is my guest,” and “He is with me.”
Even Qin Siyu was stunned.
He’d already braced himself for whoever drew his name to cry “No way~~~” and for everyone else to laugh.
But instead –
Qin Siyu could tell that many of the women had secretly been hoping to dance with Aston. When the organizer announced the rules, they had looked nervous, stealing glances toward him.
That didn’t surprise Qin Siyu at all.
Over the past few days, he’d learned something of Aston’s family background.
The family belonged to the wealthy elite of Long Island, New York.
Following the end of the Mexican-American War in 1848, Mexico was forced to cede vast territories, including California. At the time, the Mexicans had no idea what immense riches lay hidden beneath that supposedly “wild” land.
Gold was discovered in California just six days before the treaty was signed.
Elio’s Notes: The California gold discovery was on January 24, 1848, and the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed on February 2, 1848, a gap of nine days rather than the novel’s six. The source wording is retained. Sources: National Park Service and U.S. National Archives.
Then came the Gold Rush. San Francisco grew from a tiny village into a commercial center almost overnight, and the Aston family expanded its business empire westward.
Once the easily accessible gold had been mined out by the “pioneers,” large companies took over the deeper deposits. The American dream of getting rich with nothing but a shovel and a sieve had lasted only a few years.
The Gold Rush ended around 1856, but three years later, in 1859, news broke of the discovery of America’s largest silver deposit in neighboring Nevada.
By then resource extraction was so specialized that only major capital could support it. The Aston family purchased valuable finds from numerous prospectors and strengthened its influence across the West.
Alongside the gold and silver booms, the family entered logistics and banking in San Francisco, gradually becoming one of America’s wealthiest families. Supposedly, a tract of land they had once invested in was later bought by the state government and now formed part of San Francisco International Airport.
Elio’s Notes: The airfield was known in 1932 as San Francisco Airport (formerly Mills Field), and its land was purchased in 1930 by the City of San Francisco, not the state. The “International” designation came later. The fictional Aston family association remains as written. Sources: SFO Museum and SFO historical report.
They owned office buildings in downtown San Francisco and villas and other properties around the world. The medical research center Qin Siyu often saw belonged to them, as did parks he frequently visited and many other places.
Because the family was expanding on the West Coast and believed in the region’s prospects, Aston had been sent here to attend university. He chose Berkeley for its progressive and intellectually lively atmosphere.
And as for Aston himself… naturally, he was among the most popular figures at the university.
Nobody wanted to defy him when he spoke that way.
Their names were removed from the drawing. The organizers began matching everyone else directly, taking a slip from the women’s box and then one from the men’s, pairing them together.
Within minutes, people began streaming onto the dance floor.
Qin Siyu and Aston entered last and stood at the edge. Aston raised an open hand, and Qin Siyu offered his fingers.
Aston closed his hand around them.
As everyone waited for the music, Aston looked at Qin Siyu and adjusted the flowers covering part of his face.
His cheeks felt a little itchy. When Aston fixed the flowers on the left, Qin Siyu’s left cheek twitched involuntarily. When he worked on the right, the right cheek twitched too, brushing against Aston’s fingers without Qin Siyu meaning to.
A trace of a smile seemed to rise at the corner of Aston’s lips.
Aston asked, “Do you remember how I taught you to dance about two months ago?”
“Of course,” Qin Siyu replied. “Move your body with the music.”
“Good.”
The music began, and the couples started turning across the floor.
Once again, Aston held Qin Siyu’s hand and put an arm around his waist. This time, though, they were in full view of everyone.
They were the only pair both wearing trousers. Qin Siyu learned quickly, and following the music was much easier than the last time.
Aston guided him. When they needed to turn left, the hand at his waist steered him gently leftward. When they turned right, Aston loosened his hold a little.
Each time the hand tightened around his waist, Qin Siyu felt a fleeting tingling sensation there.
For Aston, the sensation beneath his hand was different from what he’d experienced at other balls.
Years of physical labor had left Qin Siyu with a firm, springy layer of muscle around his waist.
When Qin Siyu grew more accustomed to the steps, Aston moved his hand back up onto his partner’s back, assuming a more standard position.
Looking up, Qin Siyu’s gaze fell on Aston’s mask.
Intricate, delicate, splendid, magnificent.
His eyes traveled slowly across it, examining every design and pattern.
Aston could tell that Qin Siyu was studying his mask without once looking at his face. He knew Qin Siyu loved beautiful things, or he would never have picked up that seashell at the beach. Aston showed nothing, but his own gaze followed Qin Siyu’s eyes the whole time.
Was the mask really that beautiful?
At last, Qin Siyu’s gaze moved to Aston’s eye, the one left uncovered by the mask.
Their eyes met abruptly. Realizing Aston was looking straight at him, Qin Siyu felt his heart leap!
But their gazes seemed locked. He couldn’t look away, drawn motionless into the blue of Aston’s eye.
Blue in every depth and shade.
On the dance floor, they watched each other in silence, moving together with extraordinary harmony.
Startled by their meeting eyes, Qin Siyu instinctively tightened the hand resting on Aston’s back.
His hand had been behind Aston’s shoulder. When he suddenly gripped his back, Aston faltered and missed a beat.
Qin Siyu couldn’t say how much time passed before he finally lowered his eyes.
Aston, however, continued watching him.
The flowers suited Qin Siyu’s complexion, and the tear mole above them looked more striking than ever.
They suited the color of his lips as well.
His lips were stunning—vivid, full, and more captivating than those of a Westerner. The upper lip’s peaks curved upward just slightly, creating a small indentation between them, and directly beneath the upper lip, a smooth, bead-like fleshy pearl hung in the center. The lower lip was plump, with a distinct groove running down its middle and several lip lines leading into his mouth.
How strange. More captivating than anyone else wearing lipstick.
And what about the tongue inside?
Could it be that it, too—
Some of the couples around them had begun moving with unmistakable intimacy: a woman lifted her leg as her partner’s fingers trailed over her skin; a man twirled his partner halfway around, gathered her into his arms, and bent to breathe in the scent at her neck. Qin Siyu and Aston were the most restrained pair on the floor, simply keeping time with the music and occasionally lifting their eyes to meet each other’s gaze.
They’d been thrown together by circumstance.
Because of the numbers, and the excuse that “a mask hides one’s identity.”
They danced only the basic steps, never attempting the complicated turns of the other couples, simply following the rhythm.
Perhaps it was the weight of the flowers, perhaps the dancing. As the piece drew to a close, Qin Siyu felt his spectacles slipping down his nose.
He’d worn them for years, and the frame had become loose.
“…” Aston gently held one of his hands, and Qin Siyu’s other hand rested on Aston’s shoulder. Qin Siyu hesitated, unsure which hand to use to fix his glasses, when Aston released the one he was holding.
Qin Siyu actually wondered, Should I use this hand? Is there some rule of etiquette?
Is it more polite to release this hand while waltzing?
But Aston had merely been intending, like a gentleman, to help him.
Aston’s right hand still supported his back, while his left, in a white glove, moved gently beneath the bridge of Qin Siyu’s spectacles.
In those days, gentlemen were expected to wear white gloves while dancing.
Qin Siyu froze for a second as their blue and black eyes met again. Aston focused on the bridge of the glasses and pushed it upward with a long finger, settling the frame back in place.
The flowers trembled, rising slightly along his cheeks and looking even more alive.
Looking at Qin Siyu, Aston took his hand again in the white glove and drew him back into position with his other arm. They continued dancing.
“…” Qin Siyu glanced aside and saw a man and woman opposite them watching curiously.
Fortunately, the music ended just then. Qin Siyu wanted to go home.
One dance was enough. Now nobody could say he’d left because he was too ashamed to stay.
He barely understood why he was here himself.
What a bizarre evening.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” he told Aston. “But I think I’d like to go now.”
Aston nodded and took a step back. “Of course.”
Aston hadn’t originally planned to come that evening. He’d changed his mind at the last minute and decided to attend the charity ball. Fortunately, he had.
Qin Siyu hadn’t forgotten that he wanted to bring lobster home for his family. He took two lobsters, held them in a napkin, nodded once more to Aston, and made to leave.
With the lobster in one hand, he had trouble putting on his coat. Aston helped again, lifting the coat handed over by the attendant and draping it across Qin Siyu’s shoulders.
As he put the coat on him from behind, Aston noticed a book tucked into the back pocket of his trousers.
He recognized its cover.
Poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
She was the first woman poet to win the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. The book was a pocket edition of her new sonnet collection published the previous year, Fatal Interview.
Aston’s English teacher recommended the poet enthusiastically, so when Fatal Interview appeared the year before, he’d read a little of it.
The poet cared deeply about rhythm and rhyme, and Aston still vaguely remembered this particular poem.
Its opening lines went something like this –
Publication note: The four opening lines of Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Love Is Not All” (Sonnet XXX) have been temporarily omitted from this edition. Read the poem at the Academy of American Poets.
Love was not everything. It couldn’t feed you or give you drink; it couldn’t be a roof against the rain or a piece of floating timber when you were drowning.
He couldn’t quite remember the middle lines, though the idea was much the same.
The last few lines went something like…
Publication note: The six closing lines of the same poem have also been temporarily omitted. Read them in the full poem.
She was saying that even with no food or drink, she wouldn’t want to lose love or exchange it for anything else.
Aston thought that Qin Siyu seemed to have something in common with the poet.
Across from him, Qin Siyu pulled his coat close, shouldered his bag, touched his book of poetry, cradled the lobster, and slipped out in a flash.
Aston watched him impassively.
What sort of person was he, exactly? Aston wondered.
To earn money, he repaired strangers’ leather shoes downtown.
Yet he carried a pocket poetry book in his trousers. Whenever business was quiet, he sat silently on his stool and read a poem.