In late autumn, a silky, fine snow quietly descended, like a meticulously crafted ink painting by nature, washing Wanxiang Garden with a shimmering, translucent brilliance. The clusters of red coral pods beneath the porch resembled delicate rubies, now clumps of ice crystals, shimmering with a mysterious luster in the dim light. The path was carpeted with snow resembling broken jade, and with each step, a crunch echoed in the silence, like the snow's gentle hum, its refreshing fragrance spreading and lingering everywhere.
I ordered my servants to erect a bamboo frame outside the warm room and hang a dozen goat-horn lanterns. A gentle orange glow shone down, illuminating the still-uncleared snow, like a warm veil covering the garden's withered branches, instantly imbuing the once bleak garden with a touch of warmth.
"Miss, Miss Li and the others have arrived at the corner gate!" Mo Zhu hurried in, her breath of white air quickly dissipating in the cold air. A crystal snowflake still clung to her temples, like a bright pearl. "Look at how much snow is falling! Fortunately, we had the charcoal basins ready," Mo Zhu said, gently brushing the snowflakes away from her temples.
I carefully placed the last frozen blue flower into the water jar. The petal trembled slightly in the water, as if testifying to its resilience. I turned back, a smile as warm as the spring sun. "Turn up the heat in the east wing, and have the kitchen stew some ginger duck. It'll be perfect for warming them up when they get hungry after playing." As soon as I finished speaking, I heard a silver bell-like laughter from outside the moonlit door, a laughter that seemed to dispel the chill of late autumn. Miss Li, wrapped in a lilac cloak, looked like a lotus blossoming in the snow. Behind her followed Miss Zhang and three other noble ladies. Their skirts gently brushed the snow beneath the porch, startling a few sparrows that had been hiding behind the rockery. They fluttered their wings and flew off into the gray sky.
"Sister Su, your Wanxiang Garden is even more beautiful than in the paintings!" Miss Zhang said as she removed her gloves and reached out to catch the falling snowflakes. The flakes melted instantly in her palms, as if infected by her enthusiasm. "Look at these lights, this snow, and those wintersweets on the stand. It's truly a beautiful sight to walk in the snow and find plum blossoms!" Miss Zhang's eyes were filled with admiration, as if this garden were the most beautiful fairyland in the world.
Miss Li slowly sat down next to me. The silvery charcoal in the stove crackled, as if playing a cheerful melody. She rubbed her hands gently and said with a smile, "That's right! Poetry gatherings usually take place in teahouses or other courtyards, never as freely as here. Look at the table setting—" She extended a slender finger, pointing to a glass plate on the table. Inside was a hawthorn cake cut into the shape of a plum blossom, resembling a blossoming red plum, delicate and tempting; a hibiscus cake sprinkled with pine nuts, like a winter snow, pure and beautiful; and the word "Wonderful Fun" carefully arranged with candied kumquats, as if expressing the unique theme of this poetry gathering.
"This is the first gathering of the 'Miaoqu Society,' so we have to have something new," I said, pouring each person a glass of warm wine. The amber liquor swayed gently in the glass, shimmering with a captivating luster, like flowing gold. "There's no topic today, and no test of rhythm. Ladies and sisters, please write whatever you want, even if it's Aunt Wang's catchy rhyme from the village entrance. As long as it's interesting, it's a good poem." I smiled at everyone, my eyes full of anticipation.
As soon as she finished speaking, Miss Wu on her right clapped her hands excitedly and laughed, "This is great! The other day I asked my maid to buy some sugar-roasted chestnuts, but she heard 'sugar-roasted' as 'soup-roasted', and when she came back the cook laughed at her for a long time!" As she spoke, she picked up a wolf-hair brush and, without paying any attention to any format or rhythm, wrote on the Xue Tao paper:
"My maid made a fool of herself while buying chestnuts, and mistakenly fried them with sugar instead of soup.
The iron pot gurgles as water fills it, and chestnut blossoms fill the yard.
"Puff——" Miss Zhang almost spit out a mouthful of warm wine. She quickly covered her mouth with a handkerchief and laughed: "Sister Wu's poem is amazing! The way the chestnuts bloom is so funny just thinking about it!" Miss Zhang's laughter echoed in the warm room like a silver bell.
Miss Li was also infected by the joyful atmosphere and became interested. She twisted her pearl hairpin, pondered for a moment, and then wrote:
"Waking up in the morning, I was looking in the mirror and putting on some yellow makeup, but the maid mistakenly brought me some soy sauce.
When my parents saw this, they slammed their hands in shock, and my younger brother collapsed in the corridor laughing."
The entire room erupted in laughter, a laughter that threatened to blow the roof off the warm room. Watching their beaming faces, I felt my heart warmed by a warm stove. In my previous life, at poetry gatherings, everyone sat at attention, their words flowing like "Plum blossoms reflecting the snow" and "Self-admiration of one's own beauty." How could such a joyful scene, imbued with the mundane world of fireworks, be possible? Mo Zhu approached with light steps, clutching a stack of rice paper. She whispered in my ear, "Miss, look at Miss Li's handwriting. It's just like her, impetuous and sloppy."
I feigned a cough, trying to hide the smile on my lips. I dipped my brush in ink and was about to write when I caught a glimpse of a green figure passing outside the moonlit door. My heart raced, and I was about to take a closer look when the butler hurried in, treading on the snow. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Miss, the master asked you to go to the front yard. He said... a distinguished guest has arrived."
The hanging flower gate in the front yard resembled a poetic painting frame, snow falling like a curtain. I tightened the collar of my fox fur coat; the fur was soft and warm, like a gentle embrace on a winter's day. However, when I saw the figure outside the study, I couldn't help but pause. The man stood quietly in the corridor, his blue shirt lightly dusted with snow. His posture was as straight as a bamboo, as if blending seamlessly into the snowy scene. His dark hair was loosely tied with a jade hairpin, giving him a sense of free and uninhibited elegance. Hearing the footsteps, he slowly turned around - his eyebrows were like distant mountains with dark shadows, and the brow peaks seemed to be outlined by nature with the most delicate brushstrokes, revealing a deep charm; his eyes were like rippling autumn water, and there seemed to be a clear spring hidden in his eyes, and the rippling light seemed to be able to see through people's hearts; his nose bridge was high and as firm as a mountain; his lips were light in color, but it added a bit of coldness to him; but the corners of his eyes were slightly raised, with a hint of smile, making people unpredictable.
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