The late spring evening breeze, carrying the sweet fragrance of roses, slipped through the cracks in the carved window lattices into the main hall of the prime minister's residence. The long rosewood table was already laden with dinner, eight dishes and a soup steaming hot. The celadon bowls and plates shimmered in the candlelight. The sauce of squirrel mandarin fish was coated in a brilliant amber glaze, sweet and sour spare ribs were coated in glistening icing sugar, freshly picked toon and tofu were sprinkled with fine salt, and a slow-cooked bowl of white fungus and lotus seed soup was dotted with a few tender yellow osmanthus petals.
Su Jinli sat to the left of the main seat, looking at the table full of dishes with a somewhat absent-minded gaze. She used a silver hairpin to stir the rice in her bowl, and out of the corner of her eye she saw her younger brother, Su Heng, sitting below her, picking up a piece of pork ribs with chopsticks. The fat dripped from the joints onto the tablecloth, creating a small speck of oil.
"Sister, try this!" Su Heng put the ribs into her bowl, stuffing her mouth full. "The chef has just learned the Huaiyang method. It's sweet but not greasy. It's even more authentic than the one I had at Zhuangyuan Mansion last time!"
Jiang Yan was sitting opposite her, using a serving chopstick to scoop lotus seed soup for her. Upon hearing her words, he raised his eyes and smiled, "Young Marquis, you have probably tried all the delicious restaurants in the capital." His movements were gentle, and there happened to be two whole osmanthus flowers floating on the soup he scooped up.
Su Xiang sat in the main seat, holding his one-year-old great-grandson in his arms. The little kid was giggling, scratching at his beard. The old man's eyes narrowed with laughter, and he rubbed the child's rosy cheek with his fingertips. "Eat slowly, no one's going to snatch it from you." Although his hair and beard were white, his eyes were still clear, and he looked at Su Jinli with a subtle concern.
Su Qingyao sat to Su Jinli's right, painting on an ivory plate with an enamel rouge brush. Though an old woman with frosted hair, her hair was meticulously combed. Beneath her headband, a headband inlaid with jade, her eyes still shone with shrewdness. "Jinli, what do you think of this new color I mixed?" She pushed the ivory plate towards her, a soft peach-pink hue on it. "I call it 'Drunken Spring Smoke,' it'll go perfectly with the green-calyx plum tree in your yard."
Su Jinli picked up the ivory plate and examined it, her fingertips rubbing against the fine powder. "Eldest sister's craftsmanship has become increasingly refined. This color is more elegant than last year's 'Human Face Red'."
As he was speaking, Su Heng swallowed the food in his mouth and suddenly slammed his chopsticks on the table, making a "pa" sound. The little kid was startled and burst into tears.
"Look at you!" Su Lian hurriedly coaxed his grandson and glared at his son. "You're so impatient, you scared the child!"
Su Heng, however, didn't care about these things. He came close to Su Jinli and lowered his voice, but couldn't hide his excitement: "Sister, I asked the servants in the mansion to go to the front street to find out about the old beggar from the Wang family today!"
Su Jinli's fingers gripping the ivory plate tightened slightly, but her face remained expressionless: "Oh? What did you find out?" She handed the ivory plate back to Su Qingyao, picked up the lotus seed soup and took a sip. The warm and sweet soup slid into her throat, but it couldn't suppress the ripples in her heart.
"Hey! It's really a flood that has washed away the Dragon King Temple--" Su Heng slapped his thigh and almost knocked over the vinegar dish next to him, "That old man is called Wang Zhong. He is not a real master at all. He is just a distant cousin that the old man of the Wang family brought from the countryside. He is just the manager who is in charge of the warehouse keys!" He was talking with saliva flying, and the maid next to him hurriedly handed him a teacup.
"How did the Wang family... fall?" Su Jinli put down her soup bowl. Her voice was soft, but it caused the lively atmosphere at the table to suddenly quiet for a moment. The candlelight crackled, causing the pearl hairpin on her temples to sway slightly.
Su Heng took a sip of tea, wiped his mouth, and spoke with a hint of disdain: "How else could we lose? Back then, you flipped the table at your coming-of-age party and threw out Wang Erlang's outstanding bills from the gambling den. The Wang family's reputation was completely gone!" He thought of the past, his eyes fierce again. "Then that kid refused to repent and followed his cronies to smoke opium, pawning the Wang family's old house! Old Master Wang was so angry that he coughed up blood and died in less than half a year. When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. The Wang family, as big as it is, just fell apart!"
Su Jinli silently lowered her eyelashes, watching the reflection of the lotus seed soup swaying in the bowl. So this was the end of that playboy. In her previous life, as she lay dying on the Wang family's deathbed, she had vaguely heard that he had gotten into a brawl in a brothel and had his leg broken, but she had never imagined he would die in poverty. Her heart felt like it had been gently stung by something; it didn't hurt, but it was filled with a subtle, bitter aching pain.
"Okay, okay!" Su Qingyao put the ivory plate on the table with a crisp sound, "We are eating, why are you talking about these trivial things?" She picked up a piece of mandarin fish with silver tweezers, picked out the fine bones and put it into Su Jinli's bowl, "Jinli, listen to me, it's better for that kind of filthy family to go bankrupt! What does it have to do with us?" Her tone was sharp, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes revealed a refreshing spirit. She was still the eldest sister of the prime minister's mansion who was clear about what she loved and hated.
Su Xiang comforted his great-grandson, who had gradually stopped crying, and suddenly spoke in a voice that was hoarse but steady, the kind of voice that only old people have: "Qingyao is right." He looked at Su Jinli, his eyes gentle and deep. "Jinli, Daddy was sorry for you back then and let you suffer. Now, seeing you and your wife living in harmony and your children being filial is Daddy's greatest blessing. Let the past be the past."
The old man's words were like a warm stone, gently resting on Su Jinli's heart. She knew her father wasn't completely indifferent back then, but simply overwhelmed by official duties and deceived by the Liu family. After her rebirth, she spoke candidly with her father, and the long-simmering estrangement had long since melted away through their daily interactions. Looking at the white hair at her father's temples, she suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
"Dad, I know." She raised her head and gave her father a reassuring smile. "I never blamed you."
Jiang Yan promptly added some rice to her plate and whispered, "Hurry up and eat some staple food! How can you just have soup?" His fingertips brushed the back of her hand, a silent comfort. This action, as natural as breathing, gradually calmed Su Jinli's turbulent mood.
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