The late spring breeze, laden with the rich fragrance of locust blossoms, swept across Zhuque Street, the capital's bustling hubbub, carrying the sound of storytelling from the second floor of Zuixianlou into the air. A servant in a blue cloth shirt tiptoed to collect the banner. The ink characters on the banner, still damp with moisture, shone glossily in the afternoon sun. In front of the carved window lattice of Tinglan Courtyard in the General's Mansion, Chen Weiwan gently sliced open a piece of crystal cake with the tip of a silver hairpin. The amber-colored rose jam encased the crystal cake, reflecting a honeyed luster in the light filtering through the window lattice, like frozen morning dew.
"Look, young lady!" Chuntao rushed to the window, clutching a half-rolled mimeographed tabloid, her fingertips tapping on the tofu-sized article. The newly added pomegranate-red velvet flower in her bun swayed violently with her movements, casting tiny shadows on the blue brick floor. "The bookstores in Liulichang have all turned the Spring Festival Banquet into a storybook! They say Second Miss Shen scratched herself so hard that she rubbed her rouge all over her neck, like a monkey with a hornet's nest!"
Shen Weiwan raised an eyebrow. The crystal cake trembled on the silver hairpin and almost fell. She held it steadily with her other hand, and a smile appeared on the corner of her lips: "Oh? How do you make it up? Are you making me out to be a blubbering idiot?"
"The storyteller is making this up!" Chuntao laughed so hard her shoulders shook. She pushed the tabloid down onto the table, the corner of the paper scraping against the ink stains on the edge of the inkstone. "It said she had a bunch of nettles sewn into her skirt, and it itched so badly she acted out 'monkey catching the moon' at the Imperial Tutor's mansion, even knocking over Madam Taifu's teacup! The most absurd part was that line—'I originally wanted to make my eldest sister wear a poisoned skirt, but I didn't expect to use the nettles as a wedding dress!'"
Before she could finish her words, the crisp tinkling of bells and bracelets echoed from outside the moonlit gate, accompanied by hurried footsteps. Lin Churan rushed in, her long, floor-length skirt embroidered with gold and peony patterns. Her eight-inch high heels clattered against the blue bricks like drums. "Sister Weiwan! We're here to support you!" She was followed by four familiar noble ladies. The embroidery on their skirts was slightly disheveled from their hurried pace. The young lady from Censor Li's family even grasped her round fan so tightly that it was deformed, and the ribs creaked under the weight.
As Shen Weiwan stood up to greet him, the sleeves of her plain skirt brushed against the dressing table, causing the celadon brushwasher to tinkle and ripple the freshly ground ink. Lin Churan plopped down on the rosewood chair, fingering the hem of Shen Weiwan's skirt and gasping in amazement: "My dear sister! Any other girl would have burst into tears long ago, but you still have the heart to eat crystal cakes? You're so kind!"
Miss Li slammed her round fan on the table, the twin lotuses painted on it trembling with anger. "We just came from Xiefang Courtyard, and guess what? Miss Shen is applying ointment in front of the mirror. Her face is covered in red pimples, like a handful of cinnabar. It's creepy!"
Chen Weiwan paused mid-air, her hand holding the teacup swaying, a few drops of Biluochun tea sloshing out of the celadon cup and landing on the gilded saucer. Her eyelashes fluttered as she raised her eyes, a thin mist instantly covering her apricot-colored eyes, like the haze rising from a moonlit lake. "Sisters, please stop saying that," she said in a whisper, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the lotus pattern on the edge of the teacup. "Perhaps my cousin's dress got stained with grass debris..." Her voice trailed off, with just the right amount of hesitation, "That day, she insisted on giving me her new moon-white dress, saying she was afraid I'd catch a cold..."
"A moon-white dress?" Lin Churan slammed the table and stood up. The red-gold hairpin on her bun jingled against the brocade screen behind her, startling the swallows nesting on the beams. "I saw with my own eyes that you were wearing your own plain dress! Her spare dress was completely untouched—could it be that she intended to harm you with the poisoned dress and ended up wearing it by mistake?"
Chen Weiwan looked up in surprise, the teacup wobbling even more violently in her hands, nearly dropping from her grasp. "Sister, stop talking nonsense..." She hurriedly pressed the teacup with her handkerchief, but deliberately let her sleeve brush against the corner of the table, sending half an almond pastry tumbling to the floor with a thud. Just then, Chuntao entered with a tray of pastries. She slipped, and the entire plate of almond pastries scattering like flowers from heaven onto the hem of Miss Li's embroidered skirt.
"It's all my fault for being clumsy!" Chuntao exclaimed, squatting to pick it up, but suddenly she cried out, "Ouch!" and pointed at the crumbs on Miss Li's skirt. "Unlike Miss Shen's maid Qinghe, who was able to pick up the skirt with grass debris so 'carefully' - I heard that when she was changing in the side hall that day, Sister Qinghe even shook out her clothes!"
These words were like an ice-cold awl, instantly piercing the last layer of concern in the noble ladies' hearts. Lin Churan stood up with a bang, grabbed the snack box on the table, and walked out: "Let's go! This hypocrite with a wicked heart, whoever wants to be her sister can do so, we're not staying here anymore!" Miss Li spat, pointing her fan fiercely in the direction of Xiefangyuan: "Anyone who associates with Shen Ruorou from now on will be offending our Lin family of the Ministry of Personnel!"
The clamor faded, and silence returned to the courtyard. Chen Weiwan gazed at the empty moon-shaped door, her fingertips gently tapping the bronze mirror on her dressing table. The mirror reflected the cold glint in her eyes, like a thawed pond. Chuntao handed over an embroidered handkerchief at the perfect moment, lowering her voice with uncontrollable excitement: "Miss, your tactic of 'retreat to advance' is absolutely perfect! Now the rumors are spreading among the noble ladies of the capital that Chen Ruorou has made a fool of herself by stealing a chicken and losing the rice!"
At the same time, a completely different drama was unfolding in Xiefangyuan, the General's Mansion. Shen Ruoruo lay on the large carved bed, her nails almost digging into the brocade quilt. The red bumps on the back of her neck were faintly visible between her lilac collars, like flaws on low-quality rouge. Liu paced anxiously in the room with a feather duster in hand. The jade armor scraped across the dressing table, making a harsh sound, like sharp claws scratching across glass. "Waste! Absolute waste!" She suddenly slammed the duster against the bedpost, causing the dust on the beam to fall down and splash all over Shen Ruoruo's head and face. "Now the Censorate has come to my house, accusing me of embezzling money - it must be that little bitch Shen Weiwan who filed the complaint!"
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