The wintersweet blossoms at Ciyun Temple in the suburbs of Beijing were in full bloom, their chilly fragrance seeping into the meditation room through the carved window lattices, but it couldn't dissolve the knot between Shen Ruorou's brows. Facing a polished bronze mirror, she used a thin bamboo hairpin to apply black ink, meticulously tracing the distant mountain-like brows, then lightly dabbed rouge on the center of her lips. Even in this place of vegetarianism and Buddhist chanting, she had to maintain the last bit of dignity of a noble lady in the capital.
"Miss, the daughters of the Marquis of Changxin's Mansion have arrived." The little nun stood at the door with her eyes lowered, her voice as thin as a mosquito.
Shen Ruorou immediately suppressed all her anger, a gentle and charming smile plastered on her face. She went out to greet them, a plain embroidered handkerchief pinched between her fingertips. Down the corridor of the nunnery, a group of noble ladies in splendid attire approached. Leading them was Li Yanran, wearing a cloak embroidered with gold magnolias. She glanced at Shen Ruorou's washed-out plain cloth skirt and a half-smile played on her lips. "Sister Ruorou is truly devoted to Buddhism. Her quiet cultivation in Ciyun Nunnery has cultivated a certain ethereal aura."
The words sounded like praise, but in reality, they carried a subtle tinge of contempt. Shen Ruorou clutched the handkerchief tightly, her smile still gentle. "It's just a quiet moment. I heard you sisters were coming, so I specially prepared some refreshments, as well as a recently completed embroidered screen. Please give me some advice."
She turned and brought out a half-human-high embroidered screen from her meditation room. On it, a few branches of wintersweet were embroidered in colorful thread, their shadows slanting horizontally, a rather delicate sight. But in one corner, a doggerel poem was inscribed in black ink: "A few plum blossoms bloom alone in the corner, braving the cold. I know from afar it's not snow, because of the subtle fragrance—I wrote this recently, imitating the artistic conception of the ancients. Please forgive the joke."
Li Yanran leaned in for a closer look and suddenly burst out laughing, nearly dropping the gilded jade hand warmer in her hand. "Sister Ruorou has a really good memory! When did Wang Jinggong's poem 'Plum Blossom' become something you 'imitated'?"
The noble ladies around them suddenly burst into laughter. Shen Ruorou's face turned pale, and her fingertips pinched into her palm: "I... I am using it, just using it..."
"Parody?" Another noblewoman in a pomegranate-red cape pointed at the lower right corner of the embroidered screen, laughing uncontrollably. "Then how is this line, 'The cabbage and meat are so fragrant, it makes me feel anxious', a paraphrase? I remember remembering this being a jingle those kids on the street sang last month?"
Shen Ruorou suddenly looked down and saw a line of crooked ink calligraphy had appeared in the corner of the embroidered screen. It was the limerick that Shen Weiwan often recited! She had clearly embroidered "I know it's not snow from a distance", so how could it have turned out like this?!
"It's you!" Shen Ruoruo turned her head suddenly, her nails almost poking the face of the little nun next to her, "It must be Shen Weiwan who ordered you to replace my embroidered screen!"
The little nun fell to her knees, trembling with fear: "Miss, spare me! When I woke up this morning, I found that the embroidered screen had been replaced. It really wasn't me..."
Li Yanran sneered, covered her mouth with a piece of silk, and read aloud: "Second Miss Chen is really skillful. After copying the poem, she copied the manuscript again. If there is no place to copy one day, I am afraid she will paint herself~"
"Hahahaha—" The ladies laughed so hard they fell over, some even clapping their hands and singing along. Shen Ruorou felt dizzy, and the embroidered screen in her hands fell to the bluestone with a "clatter", and the brocade embroidered with plum blossoms was broken into several wrinkles, just like her "talented woman" persona, which was now shattered more thoroughly than a chamber pot.
In the warm room of the General's Mansion, Shen Weiwan was posing in front of the bronze mirror, imitating her bright red wedding dress. She heard Chuntao laughing and slapping her thigh: "Miss, you didn't see it! Shen Ruorou was surrounded by Li Yanran and others in Ciyun Temple. Her face was as green as the vegetables in the temple!"
"Oh?" Shen Weiwan raised an eyebrow, letting the embroiderers adjust the hem of the wedding dress. "Whose poem did she copy again? Could it be my doggerel?"
"That's right!" Chun Tao pulled out a piece of gold-painted paper from her sleeve pocket and handed it to her. "This is a letter from Li Yanran, with a sketch of Zhang Xiuping attached. Look—"
On the paper, a charcoal sketch of an embroidered screen was inscribed, next to a plum blossom, with the words "The aroma of stir-fried cabbage and meat makes me feel anxious while eating." Next to it was a drawing of a woman covering her face, a figure unmistakably of Shen Ruorou. Shen Weiwan was so engrossed in the scene that she nearly ripped the tassels off her wedding dress. "Does she think that by being associated with 'vegetables', she can ride on my fame?"
As they chatted, the curtains were lifted, and Xiao Yu walked in, radiant with cold air, his dark cloak still stained with unmelted snow. He clutched a bright yellow letter in his hand and raised an eyebrow: "Father has asked us to come to the palace after the New Year to express our gratitude." His eyes swept over the sketches on the table, and he couldn't help but laugh, "I heard Shen Ruorou made a fool of herself again?"
"That's right!" Shen Weiwan pushed the draft in front of him, "Your Highness, look, she even copied my doggerel, and she's not afraid of being laughed at."
Xiao Yu looked down at the painting of "Stir-fried Cabbage with Meat" with a smile on his face. "I think she's getting confused with anxiety. By the way, the imperial kitchen has just made some frozen persimmon dessert. Would you like to try some?"
He opened the food box with a golden peony pattern, revealing several neatly arranged rows of cabbage-shaped frozen persimmon cakes. The golden yellow cakes were dotted with a few black sesame seeds, making them look tempting. Shen Weiwan took one and bit into it, the sweet and sour juice melting on her tongue. She couldn't help but squint her eyes. "Your Highness's cooking skills have improved. They're even better than the imperial chef's."
Xiao Yu used a handkerchief to wipe the cake crumbs from the corners of her mouth. He paused slightly as his fingertips brushed her lips, his eyes so gentle they could drip tears of water. "After we get married, I'll make it for you every day, in different ways."
Three days later, Shen Ruorou could no longer stay in Ciyun Temple, so she sneaked back to the capital while the abbess was not paying attention. But as soon as she arrived at the city gate, she was surrounded by a group of playful children.
"Miss Shen Er, you have such a clever hand!
After copying the poems, I copied the manuscripts.
Why not learn to write oil with me?
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