Jiang Jinzhao's voice was soft and concerned. He asked, "Yuyao, what are you staring at?"
Jiang Yuyao wanted to say something but stopped herself. She wanted to expose Jiang Songyi's scandal of having an affair with someone else so that Jiang Jinzhao would hate her more and more. But when the words came to her tongue, she swallowed them back.
If Jiang Jinzhao knew the truth, no matter whether Jiang Songyi really had an affair or lost her virginity, he would keep it deep in his heart and not let anyone else know.
He has always attached great importance to the honor of his family and will definitely protect Jiang Songyi from external criticism.
However, Jiang Yuyao longs to see Jiang Songyi ruined!
After all, it was Jiang Songyi who had fallen into depravity. She did not attack her. She just wanted the Fourth Prince, Su Sheng, the Princess and others to witness with their own eyes the true face behind Jiang Songyi's hypocritical mask!
Jiang Yuyao's fingertips traced the twin lotus embroidery on the hem of her skirt. "Just now I saw the purple hibiscus in the backyard in full bloom. It's even more gorgeous than the ones in the peony garden."
Jiang Jinzhao followed her gaze. The glazed tiles of the winding corridor reflected the sunlight, making him squint. "When His Majesty renovated the mansion for the eldest princess's wedding, he specially had the painting 'Hundred Flowers' by the previous emperor's painting master made into glazed tiles."
"Young Master!" Yu Huanshen ran over, brandishing the Xiang Fei bamboo tube, the jade pendant on his waist jingling. "It's Sister Yao's turn to play the Fei Hua Ling. Miss Peng insists that the poem 'Ode to the Orchid' she wrote last year was ghostwritten by someone else."
Jiang Yuyao quickly covered her slightly stiff lips with her round fan: "Yuyan loves to joke, big brother, don't take it seriously." She pinched her palm with her armor, remembering that last month Peng Yuyan caught her asking her maid to write a poem for her.
"Go ahead." Jiang Jinzhao smoothed the wrinkles on his sleeves. "Meet at Chuihua Gate at 3:30 PM."
Watching his sister retreat, he lifted his hand and removed the mutton-fat jade pendant engraved with the Chinese character "Jiang" from his waist. The jade tassels brushed against the peony pattern on the stone steps. This was the lace Jiang Songyi had made herself last year.
A draft, wrapped in the sound of stringed instruments, passed by his ears. Jiang Jinzhao strolled slowly along the painted corridor when he suddenly saw the hem of a goose-yellow skirt flash by behind a screen—it was the same floral dress with hundreds of butterflies that Jiang Yuyao had worn that morning. He hurried after her, but around the corner he ran into a maid holding an ice jar.
"Greetings, Young Master Jiang." As the maid bent her knees, the bayberry juice in the ice jar swayed, leaving a deep red mark. "County Lady Jiaqing is resting in Tingyu Pavilion. Would you like me to lead the way?"
Jiang Jinzhao stared at the mud stains on her skirt and asked, "Why is the county lady here alone?"
"This morning, the county lady tried on the phoenix crown for the eldest princess. She must have been tired." The maid's pearl hairpins trembled slightly. "I was just about to bring you some iced sour plum soup."
The cicadas' chirping suddenly became piercing. Jiang Jinzhao remembered Jiang Songyi, who had fainted from heatstroke in the ancestral hall the previous month, leaning against the blue brick floor with a pale face. He took the tray: "I'll take it."
The bamboo curtains of Tingyu Pavilion curled with the scent of mint. Jiang Songyi reclined on the chaise longue, the collar of her plain white gown stained with sweat, the tassels of her gold-thread hairpin tangled around her neck. Jiang Jinzhao placed the ice jar on the lotus-patterned square table, and the glass bowls clattered against each other.
"Brother?" Jiang Songyi struggled to get up, and the jade bracelet on his wrist knocked against the edge of the couch.
"Don't move." Jiang Jinzhao stirred the bayberry soup with a silver spoon. "Yuyao said you met Wei Zi in the backyard of the Princess's Mansion."
The bamboo curtain was suddenly blown away by a strong wind. General Lin's daughter, Lin Wanwan, rushed in, whip in hand: "How dare you, Jiang Jinzhao! How dare you trespass into the county lady's boudoir!"
Jiang Songyi's stockings slipped to the edge of the couch: "Miss Lin misunderstood."
"Misunderstanding?" Lin Wanwan whipped the glass cup away. "Who in the capital doesn't know that you, the Yongding Marquis' Mansion, have usurped the throne? Now you don't even bother to put on a show?"
Jiang Jinzhao grasped the whip with his bare hands, blood dripping from his fingers onto the blue bricks: "Miss Lin, please be careful with your words."
"What are you talking about?" Lin Wanwan pulled back the whip. "Last month, your sister slandered Song Yi at the poetry gathering for stealing the theme, and the day before yesterday, she withheld the ice allowance from her courtyard."
"Wanwan!" Jiang Songyi stepped on the ground barefoot. "It's my own weakness."
"Weak?" Lin Wanwan pulled open her turtleneck, revealing a rash on her neck. "This is clearly a rash caused by lacquer tree sap! The village head sent a basket of lychees the other day."
Jiang Jinzhao's pupils suddenly constricted. Those lychees were a tribute from Lingnan that he had specifically instructed the village head to send.
The cicadas' chirping suddenly died down. Jiang Songyi gathered her clothes tightly together and chuckled, "It's just that I'm allergic to lacquer trees, it has nothing to do with anyone else." Her fingertips traced the peony pattern on the ice jar. "The lychees my eldest brother gave me are very sweet."
Lin Wanwan was about to say something when Jiang Songyi dragged her out. Jiang Jinzhao looked at the melting ice jar beside the couch and suddenly noticed a purple flower petal stuck to the bottom of the tray—the very kind found only in the Princess's bedroom.
As dusk fell, Jiang Jinzhao found a pair of jade earrings among the violet flowers. Moonlight filtered through the glazed tiles, illuminating the inscribed "Yi" character. This was the gift he had given Jiang Songyi as a coming-of-age gift last year. The floral mud still mingled with the pungent scent of lacquer tree sap, a familiar aroma from the lychee basket.
By the time the third drop of water fell from the copper clock, Jiang Jinzhao's cloud-patterned brocade boots had already stepped onto the bluestone steps of the east wing. Gilded wind chimes dangling from the eaves echoed the distant chirping of orioles in the peony garden, but as he passed through the hanging flower gate, he caught a whiff of a strange fragrance—borneol, a tribute from Lingnan, traditionally reserved for imperial use.
"Young Master Jiang, please be at ease." The maid leading the way knocked gently on the carved door. "The county lady has taken a cooling drink and is resting."
Behind a screen adorned with twelve peony-themed brocade butterflies, Jiang Songyi's yellow Xiang skirt draped across a jade mat, her serpentine bun adorned with a golden phoenix hairpin perfectly untangled. Jiang Jinzhao's gaze swept over her tightly clenched sleeve—where a pearl should have been adorned, only a half-cut of gold thread remained.
The female doctor knelt down, holding the medicine box. "The county lady's pulse is tense and floating. Perhaps she used too many ice bowls because she wanted to cool down."
Jiang Jinzhao's fingertips brushed against the thin layer of sweat on his sister's forehead. Three days ago, she'd shot down four autumn geese with her bow. How could she have fainted from the heat? He glanced at the swaying peonies outside the window. Their shadows just happened to cover the small table beside the couch, where a white jade bowl sat, drenched in dark brown medicinal liquid.
“This recipe.”
"This is the Snow Clam Soothing Soup that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince personally gifted me," the maid replied, "His Royal Highness heard that the County Lady was unwell, so he sent someone on horseback to fetch it from the ice cellar."
Jiang Jinzhao's fingers curled slightly in his sleeves. This morning, before leaving home, his mother had deliberately replaced the oriental pearl in Jiang Songyi's hair with a golden phoenix hairpin, originally to ward off rumors of her favor. Now, it seemed like she had done something completely wrong.
"Brother," the woman on the couch suddenly muttered, her fingertips hooked around the tassel of the jade pendant at his waist. Jiang Jinzhao leaned forward to respond, but saw her eyelashes trembling slightly, clearly not awake.
Suddenly, the sound of bells and pendants jingled from behind the screen, and the head nanny beside the eldest princess came in with a smile: "His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has arrived at the Peony Garden. Upon hearing that the county lady is here, he has specially gifted her the Western Region Ice Soul Pearl Curtain to cool her down."
Jiang Jinzhao gazed at the string of sparkling blue beads and recalled the snow fox cloak the Crown Prince had gifted his sister during last year's winter hunt. He stepped back and bowed, "My sister is uncouth, and I'm afraid I'll let your Highness down."
…
On the west side of the Peony Garden, Jiang Yuyao's moonlit skirt swept across the pebbles by the stream. Peng Yuyan, skirt in hand, chased after her, her hair swirling like a tangle of purple beads. "Sister Yuyao, Master Yu has just received a letter from Wang Youjun."
"Yuyan." Jiang Yuyao paused and looked back, the jade bracelet on her wrist reflecting the shimmering light of the stream. "Do you know where the allusion of 'Liushang Qushui' comes from?"
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