Chapter 242: Love in a Warm House, Magpies on the Branches
The warmth of the Fang Mansion's main hall was shrouded in a sweet aroma. The caramelized aroma of candied fruits mingled with the rich, mellow aroma of daughter's red wine lingered between the beams and pillars. Little Swallow, cheeks bulging with food, her fingertips clinging to shimmering sugar threads, mumbled, "Jinsuo's sweet and sour fish is the best! Once the corner gate opens, I'll sneak over there every day to order!" She shook her head triumphantly, the tassel of her kingfisher butterfly hairpin brushing past her ear like a cat that had successfully stolen some food.
Mother Fang carefully wiped the sugar stains from the corners of her mouth with a warm, wet handkerchief, her scolding tinged with unwavering kindness: "You're almost going to be a concubine, yet you're still acting like a greedy child." Her gaze fell on the heavy red gold bracelet on Xiaoyanzi's wrist, and her fingertips gently stroked the cool metal. "From now on, in the palace, it won't be like home. You have to be dignified, and even more so..." She paused, her voice lowering, "You have to know how to protect your own heart."
"Mother..." Xiaoyanzi drew out her tone, and rubbed her head against Fang's mother's shoulder, "There's Yongqi!" She glanced at Yongqi who was looking at the blueprints with Fang Zhihang and Xiao Jian by the window. He leaned forward slightly, his stone-blue prince's uniform making him look tall and straight. His fingertips steadily moved across the corner gate connecting the two mansions on the blueprint, and he explained something in a low voice. The sunlight shone through the ice-cracked window lattice and fell on his profile, outlining a focused and soft line. As if sensing her gaze, Yongqi suddenly raised his eyes and looked at her, and through the mist of tea smoke and the laughter in the room, he gently curled the corners of his lips at her. The warmth in his eyes was like the sunlight that suddenly broke through the clouds in winter, ironing her heart directly.
Xiaoyanzi's heart skipped a beat, and she hastily averted her gaze. Her ears, however, felt warm, and she buried her face deeper into her mother's warm neck to mask her sudden embarrassment. Mother Fang noticed her daughter's annoyance, and the corners of her lips curled silently as she gently patted her back.
"Uncle, please look," Yongqi's voice drew everyone's attention back. "This training ground has been paved with bluestone slabs, as Ci'er requested, and weapon racks have been left around the perimeter." He pointed a finger at a corner of the blueprint and then moved it to the side. "These weeping crabapple trees are old ones that were just transplanted from the West Mountain this morning. They will surely be covered with clouds and mist in the spring."
Xiao Jian stood aside with his arms folded, his eyebrows slightly raised, a faint smile on his lips: "The place is spacious enough, but I don't know how to use someone's 'Swallow Returns to the Nest' move. Don't let me try a few moves on you and you fly into the crabapple tree and can't get down." He glanced at the little swallow meaningfully.
"Brother!" Xiaoyanzi immediately jumped up from Fang's mother's arms, like a cat whose tail was stepped on, and rushed to Xiao Jian in a few steps, with her hands on her hips, "Don't look down on me! When I move over, I'll challenge you first to a competition! The loser will have to wash dishes for the guest house for a month!" She raised her chin, and the lake blue arrow sleeves embroidered with lotus flowers slid down with her movement, revealing her slender but powerful wrists.
Xiao Jianlang laughed out loud and reached out to ruffle her carefully combed hair: "Okay! I'll wait!" The brother and sister laughed and made a noise, and the solemn atmosphere caused by the drawings just now instantly became lively.
Fang Zhihang stroked his graying beard, his eyes filled with relief as he took in the scene before him. He picked up the white porcelain wine jug warming on the table and personally poured Yongqi a glass of clear, daughter's red wine. The amber liquor swayed gently in the glass, exuding the mellow aroma of twenty years of accumulation. "Your Highness," Fang Zhihang held the glass in both hands and solemnly handed it over. "Ci'er has been spoiled by us since she was a child, and she has a playful personality. From now on... I entrust her to you." His voice was steady, but it carried the deepest concern of a father.
Yongqi's expression grew serious. He took the wine glass with both hands, his fingertips touching the warm wall. "Uncle, your words are very sincere. It is Yongqi's lifelong blessing to marry Ci'er." He tilted his head back and drank the wine in one gulp. His Adam's apple rolled, and his handsome face flushed slightly, but his eyes were clear and firm. "In this life, I will live up to her and the trust placed in me by the two elders."
Slightly tipsy, the promise was as heavy as a mountain. Fang's mother's eyes were a little hot again, and she lowered her head to hide it by tidying up Xiaoyanzi's clothes. Xiaoyanzi looked at Yongqi's face, which was slightly red from the smell of alcohol but extremely serious. The slight confusion in her heart about getting married was suddenly dispelled by the heavy warmth. She quietly stretched out her hand, and under the cover of the wide sleeves, she hooked Yongqi's fingers hanging at her side. Yongqi's fingertips trembled slightly, then he turned his hand and wrapped her slightly cold hand tightly in his warm palm. The two intertwined their fingertips, and a silent warm current was transmitted under the sleeves.
***
In the western warm room of Shufangzhai, a different kind of tranquility reigned. Ziwei sat at her embroidery frame by the window, her profile framed by the moon-white satin, her graceful profile a picture. A needle, tipped with golden thread, deftly weaved across the taut red silk, revealing the vivid outline of a mandarin duck with growing wings. The poetry collection Erkang had given her lay open on a low table nearby. The wind rustled through the pages, creating a gentle rustling sound, as if the sound of his deep, gentle voice were still ringing in her ears.
Jinsuo entered, bearing a red lacquer and gilded tray upon which lay several brand-new embroidery needles wrapped in red velvet and skeins of multicolored silk thread. "Princess," she called softly, placing the tray beside the embroidery frame. "Mingyue said the newly delivered Suzhou embroidery thread from the Imperial Household Department is the purest color. I'll add some for you." She picked up a needle and examined its tip against the light. "You've been embroidering all morning. Why don't you take a break? The kitchen has a white fungus soup brewing, keeping it warm."
Ziwei paused her needlework and rubbed her slightly aching wrist, her gaze still lingering on the embroidery frame. "This quilt cover must be finished before Ci'er's wedding. The mandarin duck's eyes are the most expressive, so no carelessness is allowed." Her fingertips gently brushed the blank space where the mandarin duck's eyes hadn't been painted, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Ci'er is so impatient. She must have thought the quilt cover the Imperial Household Department had an old-fashioned pattern for her dowry, so she insisted I embroider this one myself."
"Princess Huanzhu is thinking of your kindness." Jinsuo smiled and carefully trimmed the ends of a golden thread with silver scissors. "Just like Uncle Fu, who eagerly collected so many rare poetry collections and sent them to you, wasn't he also hoping to make Princess Huanzhu smile more?"
At the mention of Erkang, Ziwei's cheeks flushed a subtle blush, like white jade stained with rouge. She lowered her eyelashes, their long lashes casting a soft shadow beneath her eyes. Her fingertips unconsciously twirled the silk thread as she whispered, "He's always like this, so considerate."
There was a brisk sound of footsteps outside the warm room, mixed with Ertai's clear and somewhat naughty shouting: "Liuhong! Liuhong, wait for me! This windmill will look so beautiful next to your window, why don't you want it!" The door curtain was lifted with a "swish", and Liuhong was swept in like a gust of wind, holding a brand new colorful windmill in her hand, her cheeks flushed, and it was not known whether it was because of the cold or anger.
"Second Master Fu!" Liu Hong slammed the windmill on the table, put her hands on her hips and glared at Ertai who had chased in, "How many times have I told you! Stop stuffing these odds and ends at me all the time! The backyard of the guesthouse is piled up like a grocery store, and Brother Liu was still nagging at me yesterday!" She was wearing a neat pomegranate red cotton jacket with her cuffs tied tightly, looking like she was ready to fight someone at any time.
Ertai followed in, surprisingly clutching a straw target covered in crystal-clear candied haws. He shoved the target against the door with a grin, unconcerned. "Brother Liu Qing is just jealous! It's because he's not as quick as me that he can't snag the best windmills and sugar paintings at the temple fair." He approached Liu Hong, picked up a bright red candied hawthorn, and handed it to her, his peach-shaped eyes gleaming. "Try it? It's from Zhang's in the west of the city. The candy coating is crispy, and the hawthorns are sour. You're sure to like it!"
Liu Hong glared at the candied haws he held out to her. The red fruit, coated in translucent sugar, looked incredibly tempting in the light. Her throat moved unconsciously, and she tried to push it away, but her hand took it without her will. He continued to harp on her, "Who…who wants it! Next time you buy something reckless, I'll throw all your treasures into the moat!" Despite the harsh words, the way she bit into the candied haws revealed a hint of unconcealed joy, the soft crack of the sugar coating being particularly crisp.
Ziwei and Jinsuo looked at this pair of happy enemies and smiled at each other. The warm room was filled with fresh air, and even the curling green smoke of the agarwood in the incense burner was a little more lively.
***
The aroma of tea wafted through the Fang Mansion's flower hall. Qing'er sat gracefully on a rosewood rosewood chair, her hands cupping a cup of Rain-Previous Longjing tea, the lid scraping against the rim with a gentle, melodious sound. She wore a pale green brocade jacket and skirt embroidered with silver magnolias. A fringe of snow-white tufts at her collar accentuated her slender neck, making her look like a newly blossomed lotus, pure and elegant.
Mother Fang took her hand, looking at her from left to right, her eyes almost overflowing with admiration: "Good child, you are so beautiful! Ci'er always praises you in her letters, saying that Qinggege is the best girl in the palace, well-educated, well-mannered, and kind-hearted. Seeing her today, she is indeed a fairy-like figure!" She stroked the back of Qing'er's delicate hand, her tone full of care, "You must have taken good care of our Ci'er in the palace, right? That girl was so reckless, she must have caused you a lot of trouble."
"Aunt, you're too kind." Qing'er's cheeks flushed slightly, her voice clear and soft. "Sister Ci'er is very affectionate, smart and lovely. Everyone in the palace loves her. It's Qing'er's blessing to be able to accompany her." She raised her eyes, her gaze full of tenderness as she looked at Xiao Jian, who had been sitting silently beside her. "Besides...with Brother Fang's constant advice, Ci'er is doing well in the palace."
Xiao Jian, dressed in a dark blue suit, leaned against the door of the flower hall, sword in hand, his posture as slender as a pine tree. He had been quietly watching his mother and Qing'er talking, but his stern brows instantly melted into a spring-like warmth when he met Qing'er's gaze. He nodded slightly and continued, "Don't worry, mother. Ci'er knows how to behave in the palace." The phrase "knows how to behave" was both a comfort to his mother and a response to Qing'er's silent care. Their eyes met briefly in mid-air, and without further words, it was enough to speak louder than a thousand words. Fang's mother saw it, and with joy in her heart, she simply held Qing'er's hand a little tighter.
In the courtyard outside the window, snow weighed down the branches of the wintersweet tree, and a few golden buds stubbornly peeked out, trembling slightly in the chill wind. A ray of winter sunlight pierced through the clouds, slanting across the window lattice, lengthening the figures within the flower hall and immersing them in a warm glow. In the distance, the faint sound of Xiaoyanzi's clear laughter and Yongqi's gentle response drifted in, accompanied by the crisp tinkling of icicles under the eaves as the wind rustled, weaving into the most heartwarming winter melody. In this small world, even the air was extraordinarily sweet and warm with the impending joy, foreshadowing that behind the soon-to-open corner door, reunion and endless warmth were within reach.
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