Alexandra followed Zhang through a modest Moon Gate and along pebbled paths until they stood before an enormous lake filled with lily pads. The air was thick and sweet with the scent of Chinese star jasmine. They were at the less crowded end of the Humble Administrator’s Garden, far from the schoolchildren lolling about when they were supposed to be sketching the shadows of the huge rock sculpture.

‘This is my favourite part,’ said Zhang with a grin. ‘You know, this garden was created by a tax collector—or as we like to say, Humble Administrator.’

‘In his spare time?’ Alexandra arched an eyebrow.

‘Actually, it took decades. Thousands of hands. Every section has been meticulously planned. Every vista.’ He pointed to a wisteria-covered pagoda at the far end of the lake. He reached out and stroked a maple leaf.

‘It looks like we’ve just arrived here by chance, but the paths have been guiding every step. Every tree—every single branch—has been carefully pruned and shaped.’

He put out his hand and rubbed the bark on a maple tree and Alexandra copied him. They stood centimetres apart, rubbing the bark. His hands were smooth and strong. Alexandra shivered as she imagined those hands touching her face.

Alexandra picked up a yellow river stone as big as her hand. It was cool and smooth as she pressed it to her cheek. She preferred these simple stones to the towering jagged rocks of the Lion Grove Garden, which they’d visited earlier. It surprised Alexandra how such a grand space could feel so quiet and intimate. What would the Humble Administrator think of a commodities trader crouched beside his lake five hundred years later? Would he be proud he’d forced her to slow down and take in one view at a time?

Her Oma would enjoy the simplicity and restraint of this garden. Oma’s quiet thoughtfulness—and Puyuan—made sense to Alexandra as she eyed the wooden pavilion at the far end of the lake. She snapped photos on her phone for her grandmother—taking care to capture the texture of the pebbles, the pink lilies and the shadows of the gnarly rocks. If the photos were any good Alexandra could print them onto a canvas for Oma when she was next home.

They wandered past the thin yellow stems of the bamboo forest swaying in the breeze. ‘Bamboo is everywhere in China,’ Zhang explained. ‘It’s hardy, but it can move with the wind without breaking. Like a true gentleman does,’ he added.

Zhang strived with his work to create something special. Like the Humble Administrator. Alexandra specialised in a game that ripped commodities from the ground and left open-cut wounds in the earth from Nepal to northern Australia. She had folders full of images from analysts on her desktop, so many they were all a blur. She’d lost track of when the jungles of Equatorial Guinea became indistinguishable from Brazil. It was a matter of which mine they could extend first. The only differences between countries were measured in pounds, dollars or RMB. Where Zhang created something beautiful, she left a gaping wound.

She lifted her hand to her chest and stroked the pendant. What would be her legacy?

They wandered through a final Moon Gate into the exit courtyard and Zhang bought them each a bottle of water. An old man poured sheets of toffee and then smashed it up with a hammer. Nearby another stood with a bicycle loaded with baskets of pink and black cherries, prickly lychees and mangosteens. They ordered half a kilo of lychees.

Alexandra sat beside Zhang on a low stone wall as they peeled their fruit before dropping the scraps back into the plastic bag, savouring the explosion of sour sweetness with every fleshy pink finger peeled away from the glossy black seed.

A couple of children ran past, blowing into gourds that screeched far higher than a recorder. Alexandra winced and covered her ears. Zhang laughed and the little boys started and ran back to hide behind their mother’s skirt. The biggest of the two poked out his head with a shy smile and Zhang winked. Emboldened, the boy waved his gourd.

‘Do you make friends with strangers everywhere you go?’ teased Alexandra.

‘Only the cute ones.’ The child’s whistle started to screech. ‘Correction. Make that the talented ones.’ He had an easy lopsided smile and she longed to brush his fringe to one side to see his eyes. They crinkled up at the edges when he smiled. The second button on his shirt had come undone and when he swivelled she managed to catch a glimpse of his smooth chest and a hint of his musky scent.

To distract herself, she studied the table of trinkets beside her. There were silk and paper fans, calligraphy brushes with matching pots of black ink, red good-luck charms and rows and rows of watery green pendants and a few white jade ones. Some had the daintiest carvings of pine trees, others had peonies, frogs, turtles and Buddhas.

Her hand reached again for her own pendant.

‘This area’s famous for its jade carving,’ said Zhang, following her gaze. ‘Where’s your necklace from? It’s darker. Better quality than most.’

Alexandra felt her heart beat a little faster as he eyed her clavicle.

‘Jade’s precious,’ he told her. ‘It’s currency.’

‘Clearly,’ joked Alexandra as she waved at the table of trinkets for a few hundred RMB.

Zhang smiled and waited.

Alexandra instantly regretted being glib. She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. ‘This belonged to my mother. Before that, I’ve no idea. It was given to her when she was adopted from China.’ Alexandra gave him the potted theory from her antiques specialist in Oxford.

He leaned in closer to look at her necklace. ‘May I?’ His fingers brushed her skin as he tugged on the gold chain and held it up to catch the light. ‘Haven’t you ever wondered about the riddle in this pendant?’

‘Riddle?’ asked Alexandra. ‘It’s a lily. How can that be a riddle? I know the lily symbolises pure love.’ Her voice wavered. ‘My Oma filled her house with roses and lilies when Opa was dying. I had to explain to visitors that it was a Chinese thing!’

‘Well, riddles are a Chinese thing, too. We love a hidden meaning.’

‘Go on,’ said Alexandra.

He pointed to the table beside them. ‘See the pendant with the peony in a box? The white jade is called mutton-fat jade—’

Alexandra chuckled. ‘Sounds fetching.’

‘Well, that represents a peony being unlocked—the key to a happy marriage. The one beside it with two cats, that’s for fidelity. The bat sitting on the left cat represents blessings.’

He pointed to three fish surrounded by three rings. ‘That picture means: May you give birth to a son who can pass the civil exams.

‘But this…’ He stroked the lines of Alexandra’s lily with his thumb. She could feel his breath on her face. ‘This pendant, this lily, is a play on words.’

‘A riddle.’

‘Exactly. Baihe—the word for lily—sounds like the proverb: Bainian hao he. Happy union for one hundred years…The gift of a lily ties you to that person forever.’