The chirping of early summer cicadas scraped like a dull saw across the crumbling grape trellises in the west wing of the General's Mansion. Chen Ruorou stared into the mottled bronze mirror, gripped a silver strand from her temple with tweezers, and tugged—a muffled groan accompanied by the woman's deep eye sockets. Her once meticulously painted eyebrows had faded to a sparse, pale blue. The beauty mole at the corner of her mouth, once praised as the finishing touch, now resembled a persistent mold stain against her sallow complexion.
"Miss! If you keep pulling them out, you'll become a nun!" The maid, Lu'e, stumbled in carrying a cracked mother-of-pearl dressing box. Inside, several silver hairpins lay tottering about. The most valuable, a red gold and kingfisher hairpin, had long been taken by Liu to exchange for her rouge. "Madam is calling for you in the front hall. She says...that a distinguished guest has arrived."
Shen Ruorou's hand trembled, and the tweezers clanged onto the dressing table. A distinguished guest? Ever since the rumors of Li Xiu's "homosexuality" spread like a plague, the threshold of the west wing had been flooded with spit of disdain. Even the cooks, delivering food, skirted the moon-shaped gate. She stood up, leaning against the dressing table, her embroidered shoes stepping over the strewn hair. Suddenly, from the front hall, she heard Liu's thunderous roar:
"Fifty years old?! And three of his wives have died? Matchmaker Zhang, you're blinded by greed!"
Shen Ruorou's heart tightened, and she ran to the front hall, her skirt in hand. As soon as she reached the veranda, she saw Zhang the matchmaker standing in the hall with her hands on her hips, her triangular eyes squinting at her hiding behind the pillar. The matchmaker was wearing a blue cloth jacket that was washed white, but she was more imposing than Liu, who was wearing silk and satin.
"Madam Liu, what you're saying is totally unprofessional!" Matchmaker Zhang's shrill voice pierced the air. "With your second daughter's current reputation, it would be a blessing if she could get married! Mr. Wang from the west of the city may be a widower, but he owns a silk and satin shop. His first two wives died of tuberculosis, so he's definitely not destined to be unlucky!"
Liu's jade armor dug deep into her palms, her heavily rouge-covered cheeks flushed the color of liver. "How can my daughter, a daughter of a golden age, marry an old man whose body is half buried in the earth? Go away! We won't marry!"
"Not marrying?" Matchmaker Zhang sneered, shaking out two wrinkled engagement letters from her sleeve. "Li Laowu, from the coffin shop in the east city, is thirty years old and a bit hunchbacked; Zhao the butcher in the south city is forty years old and just buried my mother—which one are you going to choose, Madam Liu?"
With a thud, Shen Ruorou fell onto the bluestone slab, her embroidered shoes crushing the moss on the steps. A fifty-year-old widower? A coffin shop owner? A butcher? These men, whom she had once disdained, were now her only "good match." Digging her nails into her palms, she suddenly remembered her own grand wedding in a previous life, when Shen Weiwan, in patched-up clothes, had held her wedding gown. Now, with the tide turning, she was unworthy of even carrying those men's shoes.
The Matchmaker's Poisonous Tongue: Toad and Swan Meat
Seeing Chen Ruorou's face turn pale, matchmaker Zhang became even more excited and slammed the engagement letter on the table: "Mr. Wang said that for the old general's sake, the betrothal gift will be only half price, and he'll even give her three shops in the west of the city! If Madam Liu thinks she's too old, butcher Zhao said that marrying the second daughter will bring peace to the family, and he'll even calm down his butcher knife!"
"That's enough!" Liu grabbed the engagement letter and threw it to the ground, the gilded teacup making a harsh sound on the table. "Even if my daughter rots in the house, she would rather marry these ugly guys!"
"Rotting in the mansion?" Matchmaker Zhang laughed at the top of her lungs, her spit splattering the hem of Liu's gilded skirt. "Last month, the incident of Li Xiu writing a blood letter in Qingbai Tower caused a sensation in the city. Everyone knows that the Second Young Lady and the Duanxiu were hanging out together. Nowadays, not only are the young masters of the aristocratic families, but even the bachelor selling tofu in the alleys are afraid of marrying her and bringing her a stain on their house!"
Shen Ruorou suddenly raised her head, tears bursting down her face: "You are talking nonsense! I have nothing to do with Li Xiu! It was Shen Weiwan who framed me!"
"Oh, you're blaming your eldest sister?" Matchmaker Zhang rolled her eyes. "The whole city saw you and Li Xiu cuddling in the garden, and the eldest daughter caught you red-handed! Now you're trying to turn the tables? I advise you to accept Mr. Wang as soon as possible. At least you can have enough to eat. Don't be like Li Xiu, who's now squatting on Zhuque Street begging for food. Even dogs think he's dirty!"
Liu was so angry that she was shaking all over. She picked up the teacup and tried to throw it at Zhang, but Zhang nimbly dodged it. Zhang, twisting her waist, walked out the door, saying before leaving: "I'll wait for your reply in three days. If you don't, you'll have to marry Li Laowu from the coffin shop!"
Afternoon Tea at the General's Mansion: The Seventh Prince's Peach Blossom Pastry
In Qinghui Courtyard, Chen Weiwan was picking lychees sent as tribute from Lingnan with a silver stick. She heard Chuntao laughing so hard that she fell backwards and even dropped the handkerchief in her hand to the ground.
"Miss, you didn't see it!" Chun Tao wiped the tears from her laughter. "When the second young lady heard the coffin shop owner, her face turned as white as paper! Madam Liu's nails were almost digging into her flesh!"
"A fifty-year-old widower?" Chen Weiwan chuckled, and the litchi kernel accurately bounced into the jade disc. "This matchmaker is quite a clever one. She picks people who can piss them off to death." She thought of the glory of Shen Ruoruo when she married into the official residence in her previous life, but now she can only struggle in the mud. The resentment that had been suppressed in her heart for two lifetimes finally eased a little.
As he was speaking, the old butler came in with a gilded food box, his beard quivering with laughter: "Miss, the Seventh Prince has arrived and said he'd like to bring you some 'Peach Blossom Pastry' to cheer you up."
Xiao Yu walked in, waving a broken jade fan. The moon-white hem of his dress swept across the roses in the corridor, startling a shower of pink and white petals. Behind him, a young eunuch carried a square food box. Lifting the lid, a sweet aroma wafted through—inside was a pink and white peach blossom pastry, each one molded with an intricate peach blossom pattern and nestled in the center with a sparkling sugar bead.
"I heard that Miss Shen Er has found a 'good match,'" Xiao Yu raised an eyebrow and tapped the edge of the food box with his fingertips. "I've specially sent you some peach blossom pastries to wish her... a son soon?"
Chen Weiwan picked up a piece, the pastry falling from her fingertips: "Your Highness is well-informed, even more so than anyone in the General's Mansion." She took a bite, the sweet peach puree mixed with the fragrance of osmanthus spreading on her tongue. Suddenly, she looked up at Xiao Yu, "But how did Your Highness know that my cousin's 'peach blossom' was so beautiful?"
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