Chapter 243: Warm Words in the Flower Hall, Winter Plum Blossoms Express Feelings
Inside the flower hall of the Fang Mansion, the warm steam from the fireplace blocked out the cold wind howling outside the window. Mother Fang held Qing'er's hand, reluctant to let go, her eyes full of love. She carefully examined her beautiful eyebrows and eyes, her voice full of love: "Good child, you are so beautiful! Ci'er always said in her letters home that Qinggege is the best girl in the palace, well-educated, well-mannered, and kind-hearted. Seeing her today, she is really a fairy-like figure!" Her rough but warm fingers gently stroked the back of Qing'er's delicate hand, and she spoke with the soft accent unique to Jiangnan women, "You must have taken good care of our Ci'er in the palace, right? That girl is very lively and reckless, and she must have caused you a lot of trouble."
Qing'er sat upright on a rosewood rose chair. Her light green brocade jacket and skirt made her skin shine brighter than snow, and the snow-white fur around her collar added a touch of elegance. Being pulled by Fang's mother and praised so enthusiastically, her fair cheeks flushed slightly, like the petals of a newly opened magnolia. She lowered her eyelashes slightly, and her long eyelashes cast a small soft shadow under her eyes. Her voice was clear and soft, like jade beads falling on a plate: "Aunt, you are too kind. Sister Ci'er is very affectionate, smart and lovely. Everyone in the palace likes her. It is Qing'er's blessing to be able to accompany her." She raised her eyes and looked at Xiao Jian, who had been leaning against the door of the flower hall with a sword in his arms in silence. There was a gentleness like water waves and an imperceptible shyness in her eyes. "Besides...with Brother Fang's constant reminders, Ci'er is doing well in the palace."
Xiao Jian, clad in a dark blue ensemble, stood tall and straight like a pine tree, his sword cradled in the posture characteristic of a jianghu warrior with the agility and alertness of a wuxia figure. His stern features melted instantly upon meeting Qing'er's timid gaze, like spring water thawing and spreading warmth. He nodded slightly, then spoke in a low, yet reassuring voice, "Don't worry, mother. Ci'er knows how to behave in the palace." The phrase "knows how to behave" served as both a reassurance to his mother's concerns and a silent gesture of gratitude and appreciation for Qing'er's silent care for her sister within the palace. Their gazes met briefly in the air, and without further words, their tacit understanding and affection flowed quietly through the warm air.
Fang's mother was such an insightful person. She took in the soft light in her son's eyes and the blush on Qing'er's face, and the joy in her heart almost overflowed. She simply held Qing'er's hand a little tighter, and the smile lines at the corners of her eyes deepened. "Good, good! With you here, my heart is at ease!" Suddenly remembering something, she let go of Qing'er's hand, stood up and walked towards the treasure chest next to her, muttering, "Look at my memory. I was too busy talking. Qing'er is coming home for the first time. As the elder, I can't lose my manners."
She opened a carved rosewood box and carefully took out a hairpin. The body of the hairpin was made of warm white jade, and the head was carved into a magnolia bud, about to bloom. The center of the flower was inlaid with a crystal tourmaline. In the sunlight filtering through the ice-cracked window lattice, it reflected a warm and restrained brilliance. It was obvious at a glance that it was a treasured item that had been treasured for many years. "This was left by Ci'er's grandmother," Fang's mother gently placed the jade hairpin in Qing'er's palm, her eyes kind. "It's not a very expensive item, but it's elegant and perfect for you."
"Aunt, this is too precious..." Qing'er quickly stood up and declined. When her fingertips touched the warm jade, her heart trembled slightly.
"Take it!" Fang's mother pressed the hairpin into her hand without question, her tone filled with love that brooked no refusal. "A gift from an elder shouldn't be refused. Consider it... a meeting gift." She looked at Qing'er, liking her more and more. She lowered her voice with a slightly mischievous smile, "Besides, we might be family in the future. What's a hairpin to me?"
These words made Qing'er's face blush even more, almost burning. The fingers holding the jade hairpin curled up slightly, and she lowered her head shyly. She didn't know how to respond for a moment, and only felt the magnolia hairpin slightly hot in the palm of her hand.
Xiao Jian leaned against the door, watching his mother tease Qing'er. Seeing Qing'er too embarrassed to lift her head, the corners of his hard lips couldn't help but curl up slightly, revealing a rare soft smile. He coughed lightly and intervened, "Mother, the snow has stopped outside, and the wintersweets in the garden are in full bloom. Miss Qing'er rarely comes here, why don't you go enjoy them?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Fang's mother immediately understood and clapped her hands with a smile, "Look at me, I was so busy talking that I forgot the beautiful scenery outside. Princess Qing, let Ci'er's brother accompany you to the garden for a walk and get some fresh air. Those old plum trees were planted by his father himself, and they have a very refreshing fragrance!" As she spoke, she gave Xiao Jian a look that said, "Seize the opportunity well."
Xiao Jian understood, put down the long sword he was holding, walked to Qing'er, bowed slightly, and made a "please" gesture: "Miss Qing'er, please come this way." He was tall and stood in front of Qing'er, just blocking the cold wind coming in from the door.
Qing'er looked at Xiao Jian gratefully, nodded slightly, and carefully put the jade hairpin into her sleeve before getting up. Fang's mother then earnestly warned Xiao Jian: "Jian'er, hold on carefully, the road is slippery after the snow!"
"I understand, mother." Xiao Jian responded in a steady voice.
The two of them walked out of the warm, spring-like flower hall, one after the other. The crisp air that greeted them carried the chill of ice and snow, yet it also washed away the slight heat within. In the courtyard, thick snow blanketed the rockery and stone paths, creating a scene of pure silver. Several old wintersweet trees, their twisted branches tangled, their golden buds striking against the backdrop of the snow, like scattered gold embellishments on a white jade plate. A chill breeze blew by, bringing with it waves of the delicate, cool fragrance of plum blossoms, refreshing the heart.
Xiao Jian walked silently, half a step to Qing'er's side, his tall figure intentionally or unintentionally shielding her from the wind. His boots made a soft, crunching sound as they stepped on the soft snow. Neither of them spoke for a moment. All they could hear was the gentle rustle of snow falling from the branches as the wind blew, and the faint, clear laughter of little swallows in the distance.
"What a fragrance." Qing'er took a deep breath, the cool plum fragrance filling her lungs. She looked up at the golden buds trembling on the branches, her eyes revealing pure admiration. "'I know it's not snow from afar, because of the subtle fragrance.' The ancients were right. The wintersweets in the Fang Mansion are even more vibrant than those in the Imperial Garden."
Xiao Jian followed her gaze, his stern features softening slightly against the backdrop of the winter plum blossoms. "This is an old tree my father specially brought from our hometown. It's cold-resistant and tough." He paused, then turned his head to look at Qing'er's face, which was slightly red from the cold wind. "Do you like it?"
Qing'er turned her head and met his deep, focused gaze. Her heart skipped a beat and she nodded slightly, "Yes, I like it. This flower blooms alone, fearless of the cold. Its fragrance emanates from far away. It's quite elegant."
Xiao Jian said nothing more, but suddenly raised his hand. His movements were swift and steady, his slender fingers nibbling the chill wind, precisely plucking the nearest, most blossoming sprig of wintersweet. Golden buds clustered on dark brown branches, still clung to the shimmering snowflakes.
He handed the wintersweet branch to Qing'er, his movements quick and decisive, with the casualness typical of a man of the underworld, but his eyes were frank and serious: "If you like it, take it."
Qing'er was stunned, staring at the wintersweet before her, still warm from his fingertips, then looking up at Xiao Jian. His deep eyes held no trace of frivolity, only a frank sincerity, as if gifting her this flower was the most natural thing. A sudden surge of warmth washed over her, dispelling the winter chill. She reached out her slightly cool hand and carefully took the wintersweet. Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against his slightly calloused fingers, sending both of them shivering slightly.
"Thank you...Brother Fang," Qing'er whispered, her voice softer than the sound of falling snowflakes. She lowered her head, gazing at the brilliant golden color in her palm. A cool fragrance lingered at the tip of her nose, and her cheeks quietly became a deeper blush, like rouge spread on the snow.
Xiao Jian observed her drooping eyelashes and the slightly reddened tips of her ears, and the corners of his hardened lips lifted silently once more. He said nothing more, simply standing quietly beside her, his hands behind his back, watching her sniff the plum blossoms in the cold wind, the sunlight filtering through the branches, casting dappled shadows on her body. The cold wind still blew through the courtyard, the plum blossom fragrance was crisp, and the tranquility and tenderness of this moment warmed his heart even more than the fireplace in the flower hall.
***
At the same time, in the western warm room of Shufangzhai, the atmosphere was busy and sweet.
Ziwei sat at her embroidery frame by the window. The moon-white satin accentuated her profile, a gentle and serene presence, like the finest mutton-fat jade. Sunlight filtered through the clear window lattice, dancing on her focused brows and nimble fingertips. The needle, tipped with a hair-thin golden thread, deftly weaved and spun across the taut crimson brocade. The vivid outline of a mandarin duck, its wings growing fuller, was already taking shape, while the graceful neck of another was barely defined. On a nearby low table, a beautifully bound collection of poetry lay open, its pages held down by a paperweight. The wind rustled the pages, creating a gentle rustling sound, like the soft, gentle voice of someone still lingering in her ears.
Jinsuo tiptoed in, carrying a red lacquer and gilded tray. On it were neatly stacked several brand-new embroidery needles wrapped in red velvet and bundles of lustrous, soft, multicolored silk thread. "Princess," she said, placing the tray gently on the small table next to the embroidery frame, her voice extremely soft, fearing to disturb the delicate work. "Mingyue just sent it over. She said it's the newly contributed Suzhou embroidery thread from the Imperial Household Department. The colors are the brightest and most vibrant, especially the gold and emerald green, which are perfect for adding the finishing touches to the mandarin ducks." She picked up an embroidery needle, as thin as an ox's hair, and carefully examined the sharpness of the needle tip against the light. "You've been embroidering all morning. Your eyes must be tired and your hands must be sore. Rest your eyes and have something warm to drink. The kitchen just made this warm rock sugar and white fungus soup. It's perfect for moistening the lungs and refreshing the mind."
Ziwei stopped sewing, raised her aching wrist, and gently turned it, her gaze still lingering on the still-unfinished eyes of the mandarin duck on the embroidery frame. A gentle and persistent smile played on her lips. "It's okay. This quilt cover is a wedding gift for Ci'er, and it must be finished before her wedding. Ci'er must have been dissatisfied with the old-fashioned quilt cover prepared by the Ministry of Internal Affairs for her dowry, so she asked me to embroider this one myself. The mandarin duck's eyes are the most expressive, and I can't be careless. I have to wait until I'm most energetic to add the finishing touch." She extended her slender fingertips, and with infinite love, gently brushed the two small blank patches of plain satin on the mandarin duck's head. "She has an impatient temper, but this kind of thoughtfulness needs to be embroidered slowly to make it appear true."
"Princess Huanzhu is thinking of your kindness from the bottom of her heart." Jinsuo smiled, picked up the small silver scissors, and carefully trimmed the barely noticeable hairs at the end of a golden thread. "Just like Uncle Fu, he has been eagerly collecting so many rare poetry collections and sending them to you. Isn't it all because he hopes that you will smile more and not stay in the room doing needlework all the time?" As she spoke, she nodded at the open poetry collection on the low table.
At the mention of Erkang, Ziwei's cheeks suddenly flushed, a subtle blush, like white jade stained with a touch of rouge. She lowered her eyelashes, their long lashes casting a soft shadow beneath her eyes. Her fingertips unconsciously twirled the smooth silk thread, her voice so soft it almost blended in with the wind outside the window: "He... is always like this, as attentive as a hair."
Outside the warm room, brisk, yet somewhat playful, footsteps approached from afar, mingled with Ertai's clear, high-pitched voice: "Liuhong! Liuhong, wait for me! This windmill will look so beautiful next to your window, so bright red! When the wind blows and it spins, it'll definitely brighten up the backyard of your guesthouse! Why don't you want it?"
The door curtain swung open with a thud, bringing in a gust of cold air. Liu Hong swooped in like a miniature whirlwind, her cheeks flushed, perhaps from the cold or anger. In her hand, she clutched a brand-new, large, colorfully oiled paper windmill. She wore a neat, pomegranate-red cotton jacket with narrow sleeves, the cuffs tightly gathered, accentuating her tall figure. She stood with her hands on her hips, her almond-shaped eyes wide, glaring at Ertai, who had squeezed in right behind her.
"Second Master Fu!" Liu Hong put the windmill on the eight-immortal table next to her with a "bang", shaking the teacup. "How many times have I told you! Stop stuffing these odds and ends at me! The backyard of the guesthouse is almost piled up like a temple fair grocery stall. Brother Liu was nagging me yesterday, saying that if this goes on, there won't even be room for firewood in the kitchen!" Her voice was crisp and clear, with the briskness of a man of the world.
Ertai followed in with a grin, carrying a straw target covered in candied haws. The bright red haws were coated in translucent sugar, gleaming seductively in the light. He leaned the straw target against the door, clapped his hands nonchalantly, and approached Liu Hong. He picked up the largest and reddest candied haws and held it under her nose like a treasure, his peach blossom eyes sparkling. "Oh, Brother Liu Qing, you're jealous! It's because he wasn't as quick as me that he couldn't grab the biggest, most impressive windmill and the most translucent sugar painting made by Old Zhang at the temple fair?" He shook the candied haws, and the sugar coating made a subtle, crisp sound. "Here, try it? I went all the way to Zhang's in the west of the city to buy it. It's freshly dipped in sugar, so crisp! The haws are fresh too, and the sourness is just right. You're sure you'll like it!"
Liu Hong stared at the thickly coated candied haws that nearly poked her nose. The red hawthorns were plump and round, their alluring sweet aroma filling her nostrils. Her throat moved unconsciously, and she wanted to forcefully push it away, but her hand reached halfway and took it involuntarily. She was still unforgiving, with a deliberately stern face: "Who... who wants to eat this! It's so sweet it chokes my throat! If you dare to buy something from me again, I'll throw all your precious windmills and clay figurines into the moat to feed the fish!" Although the words were harsh, the act of taking the first bite of the candied haws revealed a hint of unconcealable joy. With a crisp "crack", a little bit of the broken candied haws coating touched the corner of her lips.
Ziwei and Jinsuo watched the pair of happy enemies bickering obliviously, and couldn't help but smile at each other. The originally tranquil air in the warm room was infused with this fresh, lively atmosphere; even the smoke from the incense burners seemed to become more lively, swirling upwards.
Jinsuo smiled, shook her head, and went to the small kitchen to fetch some Tremella fuciformis soup. The sunlight outside the window seemed even warmer, filtering through the brightly lit paper, elongating the busy, bickering, and smiling figures within the warm room, merging them into a cozy glow. Beyond the palace walls in the distance, the vibrant world of the guesthouse, the Fang residence, and everyone's brand-new future unfolded, gradually unfolding with the impending grand wedding.
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