In late spring, the wisteria vines dangling from the eaves of the Suiyu Pavilion were in full bloom, their clusters of lavender blossoms swaying gently in the breeze, casting a hazy purple shadow on the carved wooden window frames. Su Jinli set down her wolf-hair brush. The ink from "The Concubine's Daughter's Shocking Beauty" had barely dried on the rice paper. In the story, the legitimate daughter, under the pretext of a family dinner, had quietly placed evidence of her stepmother's affair with the accountant on her father's desk. She gazed at the pale face sketched on the paper, her fingertips suddenly trembling slightly—the scene was remarkably reminiscent of her own coming-of-age banquet, when she had slammed Wang Erlang's gambling debt ledger in front of Liu Shi. Even the tense, lingering tension in the air was identical.
"Miss! There's a commotion in the front yard again!" Lu'e panted as she flung open the curtains and entered, the pomegranate blossoms on her temples blown askew by the wind. "It's that devil of the Wang family, he's blocking the moon gate with three or four of his slaves! The young marquis has already rushed out!"
Su Jinli's brow furrowed slightly, the pages pressed against the mutton-fat jade paperweight wrinkling under her fingertips. She had just dismissed the maid Liu had sent with the "calming soup," and now Wang Jing'an had become a constant thorn in her side. As she stood, her moon-white skirt brushed against the footrest embroidered with lotus flowers, making a slight rustling sound.
At the end of the corridor, Su Mingxuan's thunderous roar was heard as expected: "Wang Erlang! Do you think my residence is your casino? You come to harass my sister again and again!" The twelve-year-old boy's face flushed red, and he held the bamboo sword in his hand tightly, and the blade reflected a cold and hard light in the sunlight.
At the Moon Cave Gate, Wang Jing'an stood in a royal blue brocade robe woven with gold, his jade belt slanting so crooked it threatened to slip off, clearly fresh from a brothel. His eyes, tinged with wine, glared at Su Jinli like a torch quenched in oil, sticky and nauseating. The pattern of mandarin ducks playing in water, visible from the inside of his robe's cuffs, was particularly striking—the stitching was crude, like a child's scribble. Su Jinli recognized it immediately: the work of the newly hired embroiderer from the Liu family's courtyard. On her birthday in a previous life, Liu had used a purse made just like this as a token of her "kindness."
"Su Mingxuan, what do you know, you little brat!" Wang Jing'an tried to push the boy out of his way, the hem of his brocade robe brushing against the stone steps, picking up some moss. "I'm having a private conversation with your sister, how can you butt in?"
"Private conversation?" Su Jinli stepped forward, her voice as cold as ice, her gaze fixed on the familiar mutton-fat jade purse at Wang Jing'an's waist. The frayed edges of the purse's tassels bore the same lotus pattern she had embroidered herself in a previous life, later "borrowed" by Liu as a gift to Wang Jing'an, euphemistically calling it a "toy for the younger generation." "Do you want me to use my dowry to pay off your three thousand taels gambling debt at Jufulou, or to redeem that newly married young lady from Yingchun Courtyard?"
Wang Jing'an was startled by her gaze, his drunkenness having mostly sobered him up. He leaned forward with a drooling face, the mingled scent of cheap perfume on his body making him frown. "Sister Jinli, those are just the servants' gossip!" He tried to pull Su Jinli's hand, but just as his fingertips touched the plain gauze lining her sleeve, she dodged him, catching only a cool breeze. "My feelings for you are known to all! If you give me the nod, I will immediately dismiss my mistresses, quit gambling, and from now on, you will be in charge of the palace's finances!"
Su Jinli looked at his greasy face and suddenly remembered how, on her deathbed in a previous life, she'd overheard the servants in the next room gossiping about how, three days after her death, Wang Jing'an had used the red gold and kingfisher feather headpiece from her dowry to hold a lavish redemption banquet for the top prostitute in Yingchun Courtyard. At that time, she'd coughed up blood, looking at the "soul-calming" jade bracelet Liu had given her, and realized that the dark veins in the jade were the product of years of simmering poison.
"Young Master Wang's sincerity is like duckweed floating on the Qujiang Pond." Her tone was flat, but her eyes were as cold as ice in December. "It looks bright and shiny floating on the water, but underneath it is just mud and rotten grass." She paused, scanning Wang Jing'an's face, which suddenly changed color. "Three thousand taels of gambling debt, plus the expenses of keeping a beautiful woman in a luxurious house outside the city, how does Young Master Wang plan to fulfill his promise? Are you planning to use my Su family's dowry to fill the bottomless hole of your Wang family?"
"You—!" Wang Jing'an's face turned from red to white. He forgot to pretend because he was so angry and embarrassed after being hit in the sore spot. His hands were shaking as he pointed at Su Jinli, "Su Jinli! Don't be so shameless! You are just an orphan without a mother. If it weren't for your father being the prime minister—"
"You're courting death!" Su Mingxuan roared, clutching the wooden sword with all his might, swinging it at Wang Jing'an's waist. With a crisp snap, the jade belt around Wang Jing'an's waist snapped in two. A Hetian jade pendant, engraved with a crooked "An" character, tumbled to the ground, startling a few foraging sparrows.
"Little bastard!" Wang Jing'an covered his waist with his hands, a fierce light flashed in his eyes, and the hem of his brocade robe rustled in the wind. "Su Jinli, just wait for me! If I, Wang Jing'an, can't marry you, I will make sure you can't hold your head up in the capital!" He staggered to his feet with the help of his followers. Before leaving, he glared at her fiercely, and the sole of his boot rolled over the jade pendant, leaving a dirty mark.
Su Mingxuan stomped his feet in anger, his wooden sword making a sharp sound as it scraped against the ground. "Sister! This bastard is too arrogant! I'm going to tell father right now and have him ask for permission to strip the Wang family of their titles!"
"No need." Su Jinli held onto her brother, watching Wang Jing'an's retreating figure disappear behind the hanging flower gate, her eyes cold as frost. She squatted down, picked up the mud-stained jade pendant—a piece of ordinary Hetian jade, its edges still rough from polishing—and casually tossed it to the servant beside her. "Take it and give it to the beggars at the gate."
When I returned to Suiyuxuan, the setting sun was filtering through the window lattices, casting dappled shadows on the blue brick floor. Lu'e entered, holding a gilded scroll. Its edges were delicately embossed with lotus patterns, a mark of its value evident at a glance. "Miss," she said, "Master Li Xiuyuan has sent a letter announcing a poetry gathering at Qujiang Pond tomorrow, and he specifically requested that you be present."
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