While thinking about her brother's affairs, Xin Jiuwei was also keeping herself very busy with her sister's marriage.
As dusk settled, Xin Jiuwei sat before her embroidery frame, with more than a dozen portraits of talented young men spread out before her.
She rubbed her aching temples and pushed another portrait aside.
"This one won't do either?" She looked at her sister helplessly. "Young Master Mu comes from a distinguished family, is exceptionally talented in literature, and even Mr. Ye has praised him."
Xin Xiyao reclined on the chaise longue, casually plucking the strings of her pipa: "Too thin and frail, she looks like she could be blown away by a gust of wind."
Xin Jiuwei sighed and took out another painting: "What about this General Li? His martial arts are superb, and his physique is robust..."
"Rude." Xin Xiyao pouted. "At the last poetry gathering, he couldn't even recite the entire 'Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion.'"
"Scholar Lin?"
"Too short."
"Young Master Zhao?"
"Your eyes are too small."
Xin Jiuwei was both amused and exasperated: "What kind of girl does my sister like?"
Xin Xiyao paused, and the pipa emitted a clear, resonant vibrato: "It must be...someone skilled in both literature and martial arts, not too rough, nor too weak. Ideally, they should know some music, and their temperament...gentle yet resolute..."
Xin Jiuwei's eyes lit up, and she immediately pulled one out from the bottom of the pile of paintings: "How about this one? The third young master of the Qin family, skilled in riding and archery, and adept at playing the zither. He even won first place in last year's Double Ninth Festival Poetry Competition..."
Xin Xiyao glanced at it: "His nose bridge is too high, it makes him look mean."
"......"
Xin Jiuwei sighed and pondered for a moment, "Who could possess all these virtues... I've thought and thought, and it seems like only Cousin Huaihe can do it."
"Snap!" Xin Xiyao's pipa string broke in response.
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