The sun sank completely into the western mountains, and the evening glow on the horizon stained everyone's face like an overturned rouge box, tinting them all with a crimson glow. Su Jinli gazed at the expectant faces before her, a warm feeling welling up in her heart—this was the first time since her rebirth that her talent had been recognized outside the inner mansion. She smiled faintly, her voice clear through the twilight: "In that case, we shall name this poetry club 'Jinxiu Poetry Club,' meaning 'Jinxiu Heart and Embroidered Mouth.' What do you all think?"
"What a great name! Jinxiu Poetry Society, just like Miss Su's poetic talent!"
"Wonderful! This name is elegant and fitting!"
Lanterns flickered across the lake. A crowd gathered around Su Jinli, excitedly discussing the poetry club's charter and the location of the next gathering. She occasionally chimed in, her gaze drifting to the nearby willow grove—there, Wang Jing'an stood sullenly in the shadows with a few slaves. The folding fan he gripped creaked, the engraved lotus pattern on its ribs distorted in the lantern light. He watched Su Jinli surrounded by the crowd, his eyes brimming with resentment as he uttered, "Su Jinli, just wait..."
The evening breeze blew across Qujiang Pond, bringing with it the delicate fragrance of lotus blossoms, yet also dispelling a faint haze. As Su Jinli boarded the carriage for the return journey, moonlight from the window lattice shone on the hem of her plain skirt. She felt both the joy of establishing a poetry club and the hidden worry of Wang Jing'an's lingering presence, but more than anything else, she felt an unprecedented resolve.
The fate of her previous life, at the mercy of others, has been rewritten. In this life, she must forge her own path, step by step. This Jinxiu Poetry Society is not only a gathering place for literati and scholars, but also the first barrier she has built for herself in the turbulent capital. And those who try to push her into the abyss again—she gently strokes the polished jade bracelet on her wrist, her eyes as cold as a knife—one day, she will let them know that the reborn Su Jinli is no longer the soft persimmon that can be easily manipulated.
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