As Jiang Yan turned to leave, the sound of his bamboo flute cast a green shadow in the snow, and the soles of his moon-white boots scraped across the thin ice under the porch, making a tiny, crackling sound. Miss Li's fingertips pinched my forearm, digging into the skin beneath my winter coat. "Sister Su! Look at the way he turned back—just like the infatuated lover in a storybook meeting a beautiful woman secretly!"
"Get out of here!" I rubbed my arm and took a half step back. The silver butterfly hairpin on my temples brushed against the warm wine Miss Zhang handed me, and the amber wine swayed in the glass cup, creating tiny golden patterns. "It's just a snack on the way. How can you ladies in the boudoir be more clever than a storyteller?"
Miss Zhang pushed a plate of sugar-coated peanuts toward me, the white sugar glittering beneath the sheep-horn palace lanterns. "On your way? I heard Jiang Zhuangyuan turned down his job as a proofreader at the History Museum and stood in the snow outside the corner gate of the Li Mansion for a full half hour!" She suddenly leaned in close, her warm breath tingling against my ear. "Just now, when you were reciting 'The fireworks of the world are hidden,' I saw him smiling outside the Moon Gate. His dark jade eyes never left you!"
A dark figure suddenly passed by the corridor. Mo Zhu, wrapped in a gray squirrel cloak, pushed aside the curtains, ice crystals condensing on his eyelashes. "Miss! Liu sent someone to urge us to come and taste the tribute fruit from Lingnan that the master has brought back from the palace."
My hand, clutching a candied peanut, froze in mid-air. Miss Li yanked me toward her, her pomegranate-red bodice brushing against the collar of my fox fur coat. "No! That old hag must be up to something again!"
"You can't escape the fifteenth day if you can't avoid it." I dusted the frosting off my fingertips and grabbed the fox fur cloak. I caught a glimpse of the oil-paper package on the table - the crabapple cake that Jiang Yan gave me was still slightly warm. I suddenly remembered the touch of his fingertips brushing against the back of my hand when he handed it to me. It was hotter than the silver charcoal in the heater.
The gilded heater in the main hall of the Prime Minister's residence burned white, and the charcoal smoke wrapped in ambergris wafted in my face. Liu sat upright on the rosewood throne, clutching a string of jade Buddhist beads. Upon seeing me enter, her fingertips dug into the cracks between the beads. The jade shone coldly in the candlelight, but a sweet smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Li'er, you're finally back. Come and sit down. Your father just returned from the palace and asked the kitchen to simmer some lychee paste, saying it's for you to cool down."
I stared at the golden fruit on the jade dish on the table. Its skin was wrinkled like a sun-dried orange, devoid of the noble air of Lingnan tribute fruit. Su Xiang sat at the head of the table, his thumb stroking his beard three times faster than usual. The Hui ink in the inkstone had been stirred muddily. The wolf-hair brush lay at an angle on the brush holder, its tip still stained with wet ink.
"Today at the poetry club," he suddenly said, slamming his wolf-hair brush down on the table, ink splattering on the bright yellow memorial, "did you have another argument with that girl Yuru?"
Liu immediately took over the conversation, her silk handkerchief twisted into a ball of rags. "Master, please don't misunderstand. Li'er is talented, but..." She suddenly raised her voice, her pearls and jade trembling in her hair. "At today's poetry gathering, she actually wrote a poem on the topic of 'toilet'! And it even attracted Jiang Zhuangyuan... Oh, if this gets out, people will say that our family is a poor parent and has thrown even the decency of a boudoir to the wind!"
"Shame?" I sneered, my brocade shoes treading over the unswept snow stains on the tiled floor, leaving wet footprints. "When Liu Yuru was publicly teasing me with the rhyme of 'toilet,' why didn't she care about shame? When she was flaunting her stepmother's red gold bracelet inlaid with jewels last month, did she even think about shame?"
"How dare you!" Liu was so angry that she jumped up from her chair. The jade Buddhist beads scatter to the ground with a clatter, rolling under the rosewood table. "Yuru is your sister. How can you slander her like this!"
"Enough!" Su Xiang suddenly slammed his hands on the table and stood up, causing the ink in the inkstone to splash onto the rice paper, spreading out in round, smooth spots. "Jinli, tell me in detail why you wrote a poem about a 'toilet'?"
I took a deep breath and recounted the whole story: how Liu Yuru had pulled out her magic bag to challenge me, how she had covered her lips and smirked when she drew the rhyme "toilet," and how she had blushed at my poem. When I mentioned Jiang Yan's sudden appearance, Su Xiang's hand, twirling his beard, suddenly stopped, his knuckles pulling out a few strands of silver hair.
"Great! 'The world's fireworks are thick yet hidden'!" He suddenly laughed out loud, shaking the dust on the beams and making them fall. "It's a hundred times better than those sour poems like 'Cold plum blossoms reflecting the snow'! Jinli, you did the right thing!"
Liu's face instantly turned paler than the frozen pear on the table, and her voice trembled: "Master! He's the new top scholar! If it gets out that he and our young lady..."
"What happened to Jiang Zhuangyuan?" Su Xiang turned abruptly, the ink on his beard splashing onto the hem of Liu's white skirt. "Don't you know what kind of person Yuru is? Jinli didn't let her return home with a head full of frosting, which was a big saving for you!"
Liu stumbled back half a step, her lower back hitting the corner of the table with a dull thud. Prime Minister Su didn't even glance at me. When he reached me, his eyes suddenly softened, like melting spring snow. "But Jinli, you need to be more careful out there. Jiang Zhuangyuan..." He paused, pulled an oil-paper package from his sleeve, and pressed it into my palm. The edge of the oil-paper still clung to his body temperature. "He comes from a humble family. It's not easy for him to get to where he is today. You..."
I looked down at the oil-paper package in my hand. It was the same brand as the crabapple cake Jiang Yan had given me. Su Xiang's ears flushed slightly, and he coughed twice. "Don't think too much. Dad just thought... that kid had pretty good taste."
When I came out of the main hall, Mo Zhu was squatting in the corridor picking up Liu's scattered Buddhist beads. Seeing me approach, she slammed a handful of green beads into her purse and said, "Miss, Liu just told the master in there that she wants to hire a nanny from the palace to keep you in the courtyard and make you copy the "Instructions for Women" for three months!"
I held the oil-paper package Su Xiang had given me. Inside, the warm crabapple cake was the exact same shape as the one Jiang Yan had given me. "Got it," I pressed the cake into Mo Zhu's hand. "Go to the accounting office and withdraw five taels of silver. Find Zhang Tiezui from Yue Lai Teahouse and have him tell a story about today's poetry gathering, highlighting the key points..."
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