"Nothing's impossible." I smiled softly, took out the ebony abacus, and twirled the beads briskly with my fingers. The clacking of the beads was particularly clear in the silent shop, like a symphony of justice. "Since Shopkeeper Wang is here, why don't we settle this account? You, under Liu's instructions, monopolized the rouge trade in the capital, selling lead powder for fifty cents instead of ten. Do you know how many young women's faces have been ruined by it? Are you blind to their pain and tears? Has your conscience ever felt a trace of guilt?"
Wang Fu's face instantly turned pale, as if all the blood had been drained from it. He subconsciously took a half step back, his lower back slamming against the shelf with a clang. Several boxes of incense powder fell to the ground, raising a light cloud of dust that reflected his panic. He stammered, "You...you're slandering me! I...I didn't do that!"
"Whether you're insulting me or not, just ask our regular customers." I nodded slightly at Mo Zhu, who understood and immediately unfolded a stack of testimonies, reading out in a clear voice: "Aunt Li said the lip balm you sold her caused her skin to peel after applying it, because it was mixed with lime. Madam Zhang said you refilled expired osmanthus cream and sold it at a high price... There are countless examples like this. Shopkeeper Wang, do you have anything else to say?"
"And more!" The young marquis suddenly rushed in, his wooden sword still stained with grass debris, clearly having rushed from the martial arts arena. His face was filled with rage, and he shouted, "Today at Deyue Tower, I saw you and Liu's housekeeper conspiring to set fire to my sister's shop at night! You evil people, you've gone too far!"
Wang Fu's legs softened upon hearing this, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud. His satin jacket was stained with fallen powder, leaving a patch of white, making him look like a clown. Su Qingyao slowly put down the lacquer tray, her fingertips stained with rouge, the rouge red standing out against her fair skin. She said coldly, "Report this to the authorities! This kind of person should be put in jail to settle his evil deeds and learn the consequences of his evil deeds."
When the bailiffs arrived to take Wang Fu away, he was still crying out, "Madam Liu will save me," his voice filled with fear and despair, as if he were grasping at a last straw. Miss Li came closer to me, her pomegranate-red skirt sweeping across the powder on the floor, leaving a faint trail. She smiled and said, "Sister Su, you're even more calculating than the accountant! You've got that old fox Wang Fu completely figured out."
"This is called giving someone a taste of their own medicine." I shook my abacus, a smug smile playing on my lips. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of a figure at the doorway. Jiang Yan was leaning against the doorframe, his posture erect, like a towering pine tree. He twirled a bamboo flute, a living work of art in his hands. A corner of his moon-white brocade robe was lifted by the wind, revealing the jade belt buckle at his waist. The buckle gleamed softly in the sunlight, highlighting the owner's status and elegance.
I was slightly startled, then walked over to him, deliberately putting on a stern face, and jokingly said, "Who is Jiang Zhuangyuan buying rouge for? Does he have a crush on someone?"
"No rouge." He walked in with a smile, a smile as warm and bright as the spring sun. He pulled a brocade box from his sleeve and gently opened it. Inside was a filigree silver hairpin with a pigeon-blood ruby embedded in the tip. The ruby was as red as a burning flame, emitting an enchanting glow. "I'm here to give a betrothal gift to my future wife."
There was a burst of exclamations from the surroundings. Miss Li and Miss Zhang laughed so hard that they fell backward, as if they had just heard the funniest joke in the world. Su Qingyao gently pushed me, her wide, moon-white sleeves brushing against my hair, carrying a faint fragrance. "What are you still standing there for? Take it quickly! Don't be shy."
Blushing, I took the brocade box, my fingertips touching the note at the bottom. Written in small, elegant calligraphy, it read: "When I am appointed Prime Minister, I will marry you in a phoenix crown and a red robe." My heart leaped, as if gently grasped by a gentle hand. I looked up at Jiang Yan. The smile in his eyes was brighter than the "Yao Tao" rouge on the counter, a smile that seemed to melt all the ice in my heart. The tassel of the bamboo flute gently brushed against the back of my hand, tickling it, just like his gaze, filled with tenderness and love.
The afternoon sun filtered through the carved window lattices, casting dappled shadows on the blue bricks. These shadows, like the footprints of time, recorded the beauty of this moment. Mo Zhu was busy applying rouge to customers. Her movements were skillful and brisk, and a faint smile played on her face, as if conveying beauty and happiness to each customer. The young marquis stood at the door, swinging a wooden sword, chasing after the children who had come to watch the fun. His childish face was full of spirit, as if guarding this little world that belonged to them. Miss Li and Miss Zhang surrounded Su Qingyao, humbly asking for advice on how to apply the new rouge. Their voices blended together like the melodious chirping of birds, full of vitality and energy.
I quietly touched the silver hairpin in the brocade box, my thoughts drifting back to a past life. Back then, I was lying on a sickbed in a cold courtyard, all alone and helpless, without even a decent hairpin. I could only gaze out the window at the sky and lament the unfairness of fate. But now, I'm surrounded by my family, sisters, and my lover by my side. Life has seemingly transformed from black and white into color.
"Miss," Mo Zhu handed over a tube of newly made "Zhuangyuan Red" rouge. The paste was a bright red, like the sunset glow on the horizon. "The lady in the backyard said that this color is the same as Jiang Zhuangyuan's wedding dress!"
Everyone burst into laughter again, their laughter echoing through the shop, filled with joy and warmth. I gazed at the sun setting outside, its orange-red rays casting a shadow over the earth, as if draping the world in a golden veil. I inhaled deeply the perfume of rouge that filled the room, finding it sweeter than the honey described in the storybooks. And those past hardships, those loneliness and pain, through the sisters' united wits and the lover's steadfast gaze, had long since transformed into fragrant foundations paving the way forward. They were no longer painful memories, but testaments to my growth and a reason to cherish the happiness I now possess.
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