Chapter Twenty: Returning Boat Under the Osmanthus Moon
Autumn of the twenty-third year of Qianlong's reign.
The osmanthus flowers in Yangzhou are in bloom again.
The Shen Mansion by the canal, with its vermilion gates tightly closed, could not conceal the fragrance of osmanthus wafting from within.
In the study of Tingxuexuan, Shen Rulan was reviewing account books, her fingertips tracing the words "300,000 taels of profit from the Nanyang trade," but her brows showed little emotion. In the past two years, she had managed the Shen family's businesses like an iron barrel, with their share of the salt market in Yangzhou accounting for nearly 70%, and their trade routes for Western glass and Nanyang spices running smoothly. Even the Imperial Household Department in the capital had taken the initiative to send an invitation to cooperate with the Shen family on procurement matters.
Light footsteps came from outside the window. It was Rong Mama who came in carrying a bowl of warm osmanthus soup: "Young master, take a rest. You haven't had a proper rest these past few days. Be careful not to hurt your health."
Shen Rulan put down her wolf-hair brush, took the osmanthus soup, but her gaze fell on an unopened letter on the corner of the table—the envelope bore her familiar, neat handwriting, from Guazhou Town, Zhenjiang Prefecture.
"This old servant just heard from Shen Fu that something might happen to Scholar Li's family..." Rong Mama said softly, looking at Shen Rulan's expression.
Shen Rulan paused slightly in her hand holding the spoon: "Oh? What is it?"
"I heard that Scholar Li caught a cold last month and couldn't hold on, so he passed away. His family is discussing moving back to their ancestral home in Zhejiang, and they even wanted to invite Miss Su to go with them." Granny Rong sighed. "Miss Su stayed with the Li family for two years, and they got along like family. This time, I'm afraid..."
Shen Rulan fell silent.
She put down the osmanthus soup, opened the letter on the table, and Su Moqing's handwriting came into view—the letter indeed mentioned the passing of Scholar Li, and the words were full of grief, but it did not mention at all whether she had moved south with the Li family.
She gently stroked the letter with her fingertips, a sudden, inexplicable panic welling up inside her.
For two years, she and Su Moqing had been exchanging letters without interruption, discussing everything from poetry and painting to life, from the fragrance of osmanthus in Yangzhou to the snow scene in Guazhou. She thought they had long since reached a deep understanding, but now she realized that she had never truly been sure whether Su Moqing would choose to return to Yangzhou.
In the past two years, the layout of Yangzhou has changed dramatically.
Zhao Dexian ultimately could not escape the consequences of corruption—last year, his political enemies collected evidence of his years of accepting bribes and exploiting salt merchants and submitted it to the Censorate.
The emperor was furious and ordered Zhao Dexian to be dismissed from his post, his property confiscated, and to be escorted back to the capital for trial. He was ultimately sentenced to exile for three thousand li and his property confiscated.
The newly appointed Salt Commissioner, Lord Zhou, was a cautious official who was well aware of the Shen family's influence in Yangzhou. On his first day in office, he took the initiative to visit the Shen residence and proposed a cooperative principle of "following the rules and not making things difficult for each other."
Shen Rulan went with the flow and established a stable relationship between him and the government, making the Yangzhou salt market increasingly orderly.
The Cao family's fate was even more tragic—after Cao Jin and his son were imprisoned, the court discovered that the Cao family had embezzled as much as one million taels of public funds from the Imperial Household Department over the years, and were also involved in embezzling military funds.
The emperor was furious and ordered the confiscation of the Cao family's property. Cao Jin's father died in prison, and Cao Jin was exiled to Ningguta, never to return to the capital.
When the news reached Yangzhou, Shen Rulan was negotiating business with Western merchants. Upon hearing it, she simply said, "He brought it upon himself," and continued to focus on the contract in her hands—to her, the Cao family was already a thing of the past and not worth her time.
Yongsheng Escort Agency rose rapidly in the past two years.
After Lin Zhennan handed over the management of the escort agency to Lin Xiao, Lin Xiao, with his extraordinary courage and skill, not only stabilized the transportation routes he had taken over, but also expanded the sea freight escort business from Yangzhou to Guangzhou, making it the leading escort agency in Jiangnan.
Lin Xiao often visited the Shen residence and would sometimes tease Shen Rulan: "Young Master Shen, you've been corresponding with that Miss Su from Zhenjiang for two years now, haven't you invited her back to Yangzhou yet? If you keep dragging this out, be careful someone else snatches her away!"
Every time she heard this, Shen Rulan would smile and change the subject, but only she knew that it wasn't that she didn't want to, but that she didn't dare to—she was afraid that her identity would bring trouble to Su Moqing, afraid that worldly gossip would hurt her again, and even more afraid that... Su Moqing would refuse.
The Li family mansion in Guazhou Town is currently filled with an atmosphere of sorrow.
As soon as Li Xueshi's mourning hall was removed, his family gathered in the living room to discuss moving back to their ancestral home.
“Moqing, come back to Zhejiang with us.” Madam Li held Su Moqing’s hand, her eyes full of reluctance. “My son and his grandchildren all love your classes. If you go to Zhejiang, you can continue to teach them calligraphy and painting, and we can take care of each other.”
Su Moqing remained silent.
For the past two years, Scholar Li has treated her like his own daughter, and Madam Li and Young Master Li have also taken good care of her. She has long regarded the Li family as her own home.
But when she thought of Yangzhou, and of the person who often discussed poetry and painting with her in their letters and silently helped her solve her problems, she was filled with hesitation.
Just then, the butler hurried in and handed over a letter: "Miss Su, this is your letter from Yangzhou."
Su Moqing's heart tightened as she took the letter, her fingertips trembling slightly.
She walked into the courtyard, avoiding everyone's gaze, and opened the envelope.
The letter contained only a few lines, yet it was more direct than anything Shen Rulan had ever done before: "The osmanthus flowers in Yangzhou are blooming again, the copy of 'Ladies Wearing Flowers in Their Hair' in the library has been fully repaired, and the orchid in the courtyard has also blossomed. Would you be willing to return?"
Su Moqing held the letter in her hand, standing in the courtyard, watching the falling osmanthus blossoms, her heart churning with turmoil.
On one side was a stable and familiar future, returning to Zhejiang with the Li family to continue working as a tutor and living a peaceful and uneventful life; on the other side was the unknown yet attractive Yangzhou, where she had people she cared about, poetry and painting that she loved, and the feelings that had slowly grown in her letters and were now inseparable.
She sat by the window all night, from sunset to the first light of dawn.
As the first rays of sunlight streamed into the room through the window, she finally made her decision—she wanted to return to Yangzhou, to that place where Chen Rulan had once lived.
The next morning, Su Moqing found Madam Li and said softly, "Madam, thank you and the old gentleman for taking care of me for the past two years. But... I want to go back to Yangzhou."
Madam Li paused for a moment, then sighed, her eyes full of understanding: "Never mind, I should have thought of that sooner. You have people you care about in Yangzhou, right? Go, child, pursue the life you want. If you miss us in the future, come visit us in Zhejiang."
Su Moqing nodded with tears in her eyes and bowed deeply: "Thank you for your kindness, Madam."
She packed her simple luggage—a few clothes, a few painting manuals, and all the letters Shen Rulan had sent her over the past two years—and set off on her journey back to Yangzhou.
.
When Shen Rulan received the message from Lin Xiao, she was in her study organizing letters with Su Moqing.
The person sent by Lin Xiao said that Su Moqing had already left Guazhou Town and was taking a boat back to Yangzhou today, expected to arrive at the dock around noon.
Shen Rulan held the letter she had received a few days ago in her fingertips; the handwriting was warm and smooth, and the corners of the paper were slightly curled by the thin layer of sweat on her palm.
The words "Return date is set, gazing towards Yangzhou shore" from the letter kept appearing before her eyes. She took a deep breath, carefully pressed the letter into the hidden compartment of the rosewood drawer, and as she turned around, the hem of her dress brushed against the bronze crane incense burner by her feet, startling a wisp of aloeswood smoke that trembled and drifted into the morning light.
She walked quickly to the dressing mirror—the Western-style glass mirror embedded in the pearwood dressing table was a rare item that a Western caravan had brought from Guangzhou port last year. It was several times clearer than an ordinary bronze mirror, and could even clearly reflect the fine new hairs growing at her temples.
The person in the mirror wore a deep purple brocade robe with gold python patterns, a silver belt with jade inlays tied at the waist, and long braided hair hanging down her back. Her forehead was shaved clean, a standard Manchu male hairstyle. She had worn this magnificent attire for nearly twenty years, as if she were wrapped in a layer of armor that signified her status. But today, the reflection in the mirror made her inexplicably clench her sleeves: would this opulent appearance make Su Moqing, whom she hadn't seen in so long, feel distant?
"Granny," she called out, her voice tinged with an urgency she herself didn't realize, "bring me the blue robe that the Suzhou embroiderer sent last month."
When Rong Momo came in carrying the trunk of clothes, she saw her young master staring blankly at the mirror, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the buttons on his collar. She couldn't help but slow her pace.
The rain-washed sky-blue robe in this trunk was specially made by Shen Rulan in the style of a Jiangnan scholar. The material used was top-quality Jiangning tribute satin, which had a soft luster after starching. The collar, cuffs and hem were embroidered with a subtle lotus pattern in the same color silk thread. It was almost invisible unless you looked closely, and it would only show a touch of understated elegance as the light and shadow flowed when you moved.
"Young master, this fabric is soft and comfortable to wear next to the skin, but you have to be careful not to get it covered in dust from the docks." Granny Rong said, as she helped her unbutton the old clothes.
Shen Rulan let her help her change into new clothes. The satin felt cool and smooth against her skin, and the embroidery on the neckline brushed against her neck, causing a slight itch.
She raised her hand to straighten her clothes. The clear blue sky reflected in the mirror after the rain made her face look even more refined and handsome. She had shed the rich and noble air of her usual brocade robes and gained a touch of gentleness.
“Leave your hair as it is,” Shen Rulan suddenly said, her fingertips brushing the ends of the braid. “Bring me a plain melon-shaped hat.”
Rong Momo was stunned for a moment, then she understood—in the past, when the young master met guests to discuss business, he would always be covered in jewels. Today, he dressed like this to be less sharp and more approachable.
She took out a black satin melon-shaped hat from the dressing table drawer. The top of the hat was adorned with a warm, lustrous jade bead, and the brim was trimmed with a circle of soft mink fur.
Shen Rulan straightened the hat and put it on her forehead, leaving the back of the hat open so that her braids could hang down naturally.
She raised her hand and lightly touched the brim of her hat, feeling the soft warmth of the mink fur and the smoothness of the jade beads on her fingertips. She suddenly remembered Su Moqing saying that she was "like a piece of cold jade." Now, perhaps... she could feel closer to her.
"Where is Shen Fu?" She turned around and picked up the folding fan on the table. The fan had a painting of bamboo that Su Moqing had painted for her two years ago. She held it in her hand and repeatedly rubbed the engravings on the fan ribs with her fingertips.
"We've been waiting outside for a while now. The carriage is ready, and it's harnessed to that chestnut horse. It runs very steadily." Granny Rong straightened her clothes and handed her a silver fox fur hand warmer. "It's windy at the dock. Hold this to keep warm so you don't get cold."
Shen Rulan took the hand warmer, and as her fingertips touched the warmth of the body, the tension in her heart seemed to ease a little.
She strode out of the room. The crabapple blossoms under the eaves were in full bloom, and their petals fell onto her rain-washed sky-blue robe, adding a touch of vitality.
When she reached the courtyard gate, Shen Fu was already waiting there with the carriage. Seeing her come out, he quickly bowed and said, "Young Master, the carriage is ready. We'll head to the canal dock now."
Shen Rulan nodded and, as she stepped into the carriage, she adjusted the melon-shaped hat on her head—this hat, though not as flamboyant as the jade crown, made her feel at ease, as if this would allow her to meet the person she had been waiting for for two years in a way that was closer to the real "Shen Rulan".
The carriage wheels turned, rolling over the bluestone road, heading towards the canal wharf. The Yangzhou street scene outside the carriage window rushed past, but she never let go of the folding fan in her hand.
The dock was bustling with activity. Porters carried goods back and forth, and the boats of the canal gangs were moored on the shore, with shouts and whistles rising and falling.
Shen Rulan stood on the stone steps of the dock, her eyes fixed on the distant river, her palms sweating slightly.
"Young Master, the ship is here!" Shen Fu shouted, pointing into the distance.
Shen Rulan looked up and saw a small boat slowly breaking through the morning mist and sailing towards her.
A familiar figure stood at the bow of the boat—wearing a light lotus-colored satin shirt embroidered with orchid patterns, over which was a moon-white pipa-shaped vest. Her long, dark hair was loosely tied back in a small double bun, adorned only with a plain silver hairpin and a few pale purple velvet flowers. She carried a small wicker basket in her hand, and her clothes fluttered gently in the river breeze, like a magnolia in its first bloom.
Two years seemed to have been subtly shattered and re-adorned in her features—washing away the naivety and bewilderment of youth, sculpting a more gentle contour; her once clear eyes were now as calm as a deep pool, yet still rippled slightly when she looked up, like pear blossoms reflected in spring water. The hardships of life had not diminished her beauty, but rather added three parts resilience and seven parts composure.
The boat gently touched the dock, and Su Moqing slowly disembarked, carrying her suitcase. As she looked up at the crowd, her gaze suddenly froze—
On the stone steps, Chen Rulan stood quietly. A long robe of sky-blue Hangzhou silk, after the rain, accentuated his slender figure, like bamboo. His neatly braided hair fell behind his shoulders, and the brim of his hat cast a faint shadow on his forehead, but it could not conceal the burning light in his eyes. His gaze was so focused, as if he had been gazing here for thousands of years, and now he had finally waited for the return of his loved one.
Su Moqing had never seen him with such an expression: his cold features were melted by warmth, his tightly pursed lips were slightly upturned, and his eyes were filled not only with tenderness, but also with an almost overflowing expectation and respect.
The moment their eyes met, the hustle and bustle of the dock abruptly subsided.
Su Moqing quickened her pace involuntarily, and a soft, urgent sound echoed on the bluestone pavement.
Shen Rulan also quickly walked down the stone steps, the tips of her black boots brushing against the damp moss.
They met on the last three stone steps. Shen Rulan naturally took the rattan box from her hand. Their fingertips touched unintentionally, and both of them trembled slightly.
"You're back?" Shen Rulan's voice was a few decibels lower than usual, as if afraid of disturbing the dream.
"Yes, I'm back," Su Moqing replied softly, her voice trailing off with a barely perceptible sob.
Sunlight streamed through the eaves, gilding the two of them with golden edges.
Shen Rulan's gaze traced her eyebrows, while Su Moqing's gaze swept over the forehead beneath the brim of her hat.
A thousand words intertwined in their gaze, ultimately transforming into a knowing smile on their lips.
A river breeze swept by, lifting the tassels on Su Moqing's vest and the folds of Shen Rulan's robe, causing them to intertwine and then separate.
Sunlight shone on the two of them, and the hustle and bustle of the dock seemed to become a background noise.
.
Shen Rulan carried her luggage, with Su Moqing beside her, walking step by step towards the Shen residence. No need for many words; their companionship was the best comfort.
Su Moqing did not return to the quiet little courtyard in Lotus Lane, but was taken by Shen Rulan to the lakeside villa of the Shen family mansion.
This villa is located on the west side of the Shen residence, next to a lake. There are pavilions and towers in the courtyard, with lush flowers and trees, as well as a spacious painting studio, which is filled with painting tools and paints that Shen Rulan prepared for her—even the Western paints that she returned years ago, which Shen Rulan carefully preserved and are now neatly arranged on the painting table.
Shen Rulan publicly announced that she had hired Su Moqing as the calligraphy and painting consultant for the Shen family, responsible for teaching the clan's children calligraphy and painting.
This statement not only gave Su Moqing enough face, but also silenced the rumors circulating inside and outside the mansion.
Looking at Su Moqing and Shen Rulan standing side by side, Rong Momo felt comforted. In the past two years, she had never seen Shen Rulan so relaxed and at ease, as if Su Moqing's return had filled the most important void in her life.
As night fell, the moonlight, as clear as water, spilled onto the veranda of the secluded courtyard.
Shen Rulan and Su Moqing stood side by side on the veranda, gazing at the bright moon reflected in the lake, the surface of which shimmered as if sprinkled with a layer of broken silver.
"What are your plans for the future?" Shen Rulan asked softly, her tone filled with anticipation.
Su Moqing gazed at the moon's reflection in the lake, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the orchid pattern on her sleeve—this was a dress she had specially chosen before her departure. The orchid was a favorite she had mentioned when she first met Shen Rulan, and now that she was wearing it, it felt like a silent echo.
She turned to look at Shen Rulan. The moonlight fell on his profile, softening the coldness in his usually handsome eyes.
“I…” Su Moqing paused, her voice as soft as ripples on a lake, “I want to tidy up my painting table first and finish the painting I didn’t finish before, ‘Autumn River Awaiting Ferry’. I also want to compile the poems that Scholar Li taught me for painting into a book. If there is an opportunity in the future, I may ask you for some guidance.”
As she spoke, her gaze fell on the folding fan in Shen Rulan's hand—the ink bamboo on the fan was painted by her in Guazhou Town two years ago. At that time, she heard that Shen Rulan often went to the dock to handle canal transport affairs, so she specially chose the bamboo to symbolize "tenacity". Now that she saw him still carrying it with him, she felt a warm feeling in her heart.
Upon hearing this, Shen Rulan's lips curled up slightly. She raised her hand and gently unfolded her folding fan, revealing the ink bamboo on the fan surface, which became even clearer under the moonlight. "Your ink bamboo is even more steadier than before. If you want to organize the poems inscribed on the paintings, there are several copies of 'Poetry and Painting Combination' from the previous dynasty in the library. They contain many rules for inscribing paintings. I will take you to find them tomorrow."
“Okay.” Su Moqing nodded, her fingertips lightly brushing the carvings on the pillars. Suddenly remembering something, she looked up and asked, “In the past two years in Yangzhou, besides managing your business, did you often visit the library?”
Shen Rulan paused, her gaze falling on the pavilion in the middle of the lake in the distance—a place she often visited after recovering from her illness. Sometimes she would look at Su Moqing's letters while gazing at the lake, imagining her teaching children to paint in Guazhou Town.
“Go often.” She said softly, “The copy of ‘Ladies Wearing Flowers in Their Hair’ that you said you liked before, we hired a mounter from Suzhou last year to repair all the missing corners. It’s on the east shelf of the library now. You can go there anytime you want to see it.”
Su Moqing felt a warmth in her heart. It turned out that he had remembered the words she had casually mentioned.
The two strolled slowly along the lakeside corridor, the evening breeze carrying the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms, brushing against their clothes and bringing a slight coolness.
Su Moqing suddenly remembered what Lin Xiao had mentioned—last year, when Lin Xiao went to Guazhou Town to escort goods, she made a special detour to Li Xueshi’s mansion to see her. During their chat, she said with a smile, “Young Master Shen is very attentive to you. He even had someone specially find the malachite green pigment that you were missing on your painting table from the Western merchant caravan.”
At the time, she took it as a joke, but now she realizes that those seemingly coincidental "conveniences" were actually his quiet arrangements.
“Shen Rulan,” Su Moqing suddenly stopped, addressing him by his name for the first time instead of “Young Master,” her voice trembling slightly, “Why… are you so good to me?”
Shen Rulan turned around, and the moonlight fell perfectly into her eyes, illuminating her figure. She was silent for a moment, then gently grasped Su Moqing's wrist with her fingertips—her wrist was very slender, and she could feel the coolness of her skin even through her sleeve, which made her unconsciously loosen her grip.
“When I saw you in the library,” she said softly, her voice gentler than the evening breeze, “you stood before the painting table, the tip of your brush hovering over the paper, hesitating for a long time before making the first stroke. I thought to myself then, someone who can be so serious about a painting must be a girl with a pure heart.”
Shen Rulan paused, her gaze falling on Su Moqing's face: "Later I heard that in order to cure your father's illness, you put aside your pride and painted peonies, but refused to accept charity from others; later, when you were wronged in Guazhou Town, you only asked Manager Chen to pass on your message, and did not want to trouble me directly... Su Moqing, a person like you deserves to be treated well."
Su Moqing's eyes gradually welled up with tears. He lowered his head and looked at the hand holding her wrist—his hand was slender and long, with calluses from years of holding pens and handling account books, yet it was unusually warm, making her want to get closer involuntarily.
“But I…” She bit her lip, her voice tinged with unease, “I’m just a poor painter, my family background and circumstances are not good enough for you…”
“Whether I’m a good match or not isn’t for others to decide,” Shen Rulan interrupted her. “What I value has never been these things. I only know that when I’m with you, I don’t have to constantly think about how to scheme or how to be on guard, and I don’t have to pretend to be someone others like. Su Moqing, you make me feel that I am just Shen Rulan, not the head of the Shen family, nor a salt merchant from Yangzhou.”
Under the moonlight, his gaze was sincere and firm, gradually dispelling the unease in Su Moqing's heart. She raised her hand and gently placed it on the back of his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm with her fingertips. A corner of her heart finally softened completely.
"Then... will I still be able to paint orchids in the Shen family mansion in the future?" she asked softly, her tone filled with anticipation.
Shen Rulan smiled, her eyes overflowing with tenderness: "Not only can I paint ink orchids, but I can also paint anything you like. You can look at any painting manual in the library; as much paint as you want, I will find it for you; if you want to go out to sketch, I will accompany you to Slender West Lake, to Pingshan Hall, to any place you want to go."
Looking at his smile, Su Moqing suddenly felt that the waiting and hesitation of the past two years had all been worthwhile. She nodded, and tears finally streamed down her face, not from sadness, but from overflowing joy.
Shen Rulan raised her hand and gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks with her fingertips. As her fingertips touched her warm skin, a flutter of emotion she had never felt before surged in her heart. She suddenly remembered what Rong Momo had once said—"Young master, if you like someone, you should let her know your feelings. Don't wait until you miss your chance to regret it."
Now, Shen Rulan finally spoke out, and she gave her the response she wanted. Although she was very selfish, selfishly not revealing her true identity as a woman.
Su Moqing lowered her gaze to their clasped hands. The light from the lanterns in the corridor shone through the carved window lattice onto the back of his hands, making his fingers appear even longer and more slender. She recalled the letters she had received over the past two years. He always mentioned in his letters, "It snowed in Yangzhou today," or "The chrysanthemums in Tingxue Pavilion have withered." He never explicitly expressed his feelings, yet his words were always filled with concern. Now, this man stood before her, his gentle voice full of tenderness, making her feel a sense of unreality, as if it were a dream.
“The revolving lanterns of Slender West Lake…” she repeated softly, her fingertips curling slightly. “Last year in Guazhou Town, I saw children playing with lanterns. At that time, I thought that if I had the chance, I would paint a picture of a hundred lanterns.”
“Then let’s paint.” Shen Rulan immediately agreed, her tone filled with unwavering certainty. “Tomorrow I will have Shen Fu go to ‘Moxiangzhai’ to get the best Xuan paper and paints. If you need an easel or special brushes, just let me know.”
She paused, her gaze falling on the plain silver hairpin at Su Moqing's temple—its edges were worn smooth and warm, clearly an old item that was frequently worn. "If you like jewelry, the silver shops in Suzhou have just received a batch of Suzhou-style engraved hairpins, with styles including silk-wrapped and kingfisher feather inlay. Have the shopkeeper send over some new designs tomorrow, and you can keep the ones you like."
Su Moqing quickly shook her head: "There's no need for such trouble. I... I've always been used to simplicity."
She looked down at her clothes, which were Hangzhou silks that Madam Li had sewn for her before she left. Although they were not luxurious, they were a token of the Li family's goodwill. "Now that I have a place to paint in peace, and can... can often discuss poetry and painting with you, I am already very satisfied."
She spoke the last half of the sentence so softly that it seemed as if it would be swept away by the evening breeze.
Shen Rulan heard it clearly, and her heart felt as if it had been warmed by lukewarm water.
She raised her hand and gently tucked a stray hair behind Su Moqing's ear. Her fingertips inadvertently touched Su Moqing's earlobe, and the burning heat made them both startled.
Shen Rulan quickly withdrew her hand, her ear tips turning slightly red. She hurriedly changed the subject: "It's getting late. You must be tired from your journey today. You should rest early. I've had the nanny prepare the bedroom in the lakeside villa. There's some mint aromatherapy in it that you like. Lighting it before bed will help you sleep more soundly."
Su Moqing nodded and followed him as he turned and walked towards the bedroom.
The osmanthus blossoms under the eaves were scattered all over the ground, making a soft, rustling sound underfoot, as if providing accompaniment for this night of reunion.
Watching Su Moqing enter the bedroom and gently close the door, Shen Rulan turned and left.
On her way back to Tingxuexuan, the warmth of her skin still lingered on her fingertips, and the inexplicable flutter in her heart lingered for a long time.
Granny Rong was already waiting in the study. Upon seeing her return, she hurriedly stepped forward: "Young Master, is Miss Su settled in?"
"Hmm." Shen Rulan sat down in the chair and picked up the osmanthus soup on the table—it was brought by Rong Mama earlier and was now a little cold. "Have the kitchen prepare lotus seed soup tomorrow. Also, bring the 'Poetry and Painting Combination' from the east shelf of the library. I want to send it to her tomorrow."
Rong Momo responded, her gaze falling on the tips of her reddened ears, and she couldn't help but laugh, "Young Master, you look just like the Master when he was young. Back then, the Master was just as absent-minded when he saw the Madam."
Shen Rulan paused, a hint of embarrassment flashing across her face, but she did not refute. She lowered her head and scooped up a spoonful of osmanthus soup. The cool, sweet taste slid down her throat, but it couldn't suppress the warmth in her heart—perhaps from the moment she saw Su Moqing in front of "Moxiangzhai", her heart had already fallen for her.
But… she looked at her hands resting on her lap, hands that had held account books and pens for years, hands that held the honor and livelihood of the Shen family, and hands that concealed an unspeakable secret. A woman's body might be ordinary to others, but to her, the head of the Shen family, it was a thunderbolt capable of overturning everything. If she knew the truth, how would she react? Would she turn and leave again, just as she had when she heard the rumors?
These thoughts, like fine needles, gently pricked her heart. She took a deep breath, suppressing these worries—at least for now, Su Moqing was back, they could spend time together, discuss poetry and painting, and that was enough. As for that secret, she wanted to wait, wait for the right time, wait until Su Moqing's feelings for her deepened, perhaps then, Su Moqing could…accept it?
The next morning, Su Moqing was awakened by the chirping of birds outside her window.
She opened her eyes and looked at the gauze curtains embroidered with orchid patterns on the bed, only then realizing that she was in the lakeside villa of the Shen family mansion.
I got up and opened the window. The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the lake was covered with a light mist. The willows on the shore drooped their tender green branches, and occasionally a fish would leap out of the water, splashing up ripples.
"Miss Su, you're awake?" A maid's voice came from outside the door. "The nanny asked me to bring you hot water for washing up. She also said that the lotus seed soup in the kitchen is almost ready, and she wants you to come over for breakfast after you've washed up."
Su Moqing responded and looked at the copper basin brought by the maid—the hot water in the basin was steaming, and there was a new bar of soap next to it, which was her favorite jasmine scent.
Feeling warm inside, she followed the maid to the dining room after washing up.
In the dining room, Shen Rulan was already seated at the table, with an open book in front of her, the very book they had discussed yesterday, "The Harmony of Poetry and Painting." Seeing her enter, she immediately closed the book and said with a smile, "Awake? Come and sit down. The lotus seed soup is freshly made and still warm."
Su Moqing sat down opposite him, looking at the lotus seed soup that the maid had brought out—the lotus seeds were stewed until soft and sticky, and a thin layer of osmanthus sugar was sprinkled on top, giving it a fragrant aroma. She scooped a spoonful and put it in her mouth; it was sweet but not cloying, and the warm soup slid smoothly into her stomach, making her squint her eyes in comfort.
"Is it delicious?" Shen Rulan looked at her with a smile in her eyes. "These lotus seeds were picked from Dongting Lake last year and dried. I specially saved them until now, thinking you might like them."
"It's delicious." Su Moqing nodded and scooped up another spoonful. "Thank you for your trouble."
“Don’t stand on ceremony with me.” Shen Rulan pushed “Poetry and Painting in Harmony” in front of her. “Take a look at this book. It contains many poems inscribed on paintings by painters from previous dynasties. The composition is very exquisite. Perhaps it can give you some inspiration for organizing your own poems inscribed on paintings.”
Su Moqing picked up the book and gently opened it.
The pages are made of yellowed Xuan paper, with a faint scent of ink. They are printed with neat small regular script, as well as some hand-drawn sketches and poems inscribed beside them.
She turned to a page with a painting of orchids, next to which was a poem that read: "The orchid grows in a secluded valley, silently exuding fragrance. It does not compete with other flowers, but leaves behind its pure and lasting fragrance."
"What a beautiful poem," she exclaimed softly, her fingertips brushing across the orchids on the painting. "The poem perfectly complements the elegance of the ink orchid; the painter must be a person of noble character."
“This painter is Mr. Lin from the previous dynasty. He lived a reclusive life and never served in office. He only loved painting orchids and writing poems,” Shen Rulan explained. “His poems accompanying his paintings are mostly fresh and natural, without deliberate embellishment, yet they best express the artistic conception of the paintings. If you like it, I will give you this book so you can study it slowly.”
Su Moqing was overjoyed and quickly thanked her, "Thank you so much, Rulan. This book is so precious to me."
After breakfast, Shen Rulan took Su Moqing to the art studio.
The studio was spacious and bright, with three large windows facing south. Sunlight streamed through the windows and onto the painting table, making the paints on it appear even brighter.
Various sizes of calligraphy brushes were laid out on the painting table, and Xuan paper and silk cloth were neatly arranged on the shelf next to it. Even the Western paints she had returned years ago were carefully packed in a sandalwood box and placed on the top shelf.
“I have had these Western pigments carefully preserved. You can take them whenever you want to use them,” Shen Rulan said, pointing to the wooden box. “Last year, a Western caravan brought several new colors, which I have placed in the box next to it. You can try them out.”
Su Moqing walked to the shelf and opened the sandalwood box—the Western pigments inside were just as she had seen them years ago, their colors as vibrant as ever, even more exquisite than she remembered. She picked up a blue pigment, rubbed it lightly between her fingertips, and the fine powder clung to her fingertips, carrying a faint scent of pine.
“Back then… thank you so much for finding these paints for me.” She said softly, a hint of guilt in her voice, “Back then I…”
“It’s all in the past.” Shen Rulan interrupted her, walked to her side, and looked at the paint in her hand. “Now that you can paint with these paints in peace, that’s the best thing.”
Su Moqing looked up at him. Sunlight fell on his profile, casting a faint shadow on his eyelashes. She suddenly remembered her father's dying words—"Young Master Shen seems different from ordinary merchants. If he truly has some sincerity, you will always have someone to rely on in the future." Now it seemed that her father was right. Shen Rulan not only had sincerity, but he also hid it in every little gesture, protecting her carefully.
In the days that followed, Su Moqing settled down comfortably at the lakeside villa.
Every morning, she would take a walk by the lake and breathe in the fresh air; in the morning, she would paint in her studio or study the painting manual that Shen Rulan had given her; if the weather was nice in the afternoon, Shen Rulan would accompany her to sketch at Slender West Lake or go to enjoy the scenery; in the evening, the two would sit under the veranda, drink tea and chat together, talk about poetry and painting, and occasionally talk about their past.
Su Moqing gradually discovered that Shen Rulan was not as cold and aloof as outsiders perceived him. He would quietly drape a coat over her while she was painting; he would patiently guide her when she encountered a bottleneck in her painting skills; he would gently comfort her when she mentioned her father; and he would even immediately have the kitchen make a certain dessert when she casually mentioned wanting it.
Shen Rulan also discovered that Su Moqing was not only an exquisite painter, but also possessed an extremely insightful mind. She never inquired about the Shen family's business, nor did she covet wealth and status; she simply immersed herself in the world of poetry and painting. Sometimes, when Shen Rulan encountered troubles in dealing with business matters, as long as she saw Su Moqing sitting at her painting table, earnestly painting, her anxieties would vanish.
The two grew closer as they spent more and more time together, a fact noticed by all the servants in the household. Privately, they had already come to regard Su Moqing as their future young mistress.
Rong Momo often subtly hinted that she hoped Shen Rulan could arrange a marriage as soon as possible and give Su Moqing a proper status.
That afternoon, Shen Rulan accompanied Su Moqing to Slender West Lake to sketch.
The two sat in a pavilion by the lake. Su Moqing was focused on painting lotus flowers, while Shen Rulan sat quietly beside her.
Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft golden glow on her. A gentle breeze stirred, causing the stray hairs at her temples to sway gently, making her appear serene and beautiful.
A strong impulse suddenly surged in Shen Rulan's heart—she wanted to tell her her secret, to give her a real promise, and to make her her rightful wife.
She took a deep breath and said softly, "Mo Qing, there's something I want to tell you."
Su Moqing stopped writing, looked up at him, and asked with a hint of confusion in her eyes, "What's wrong?"
Looking into her clear eyes, Shen Rulan's hesitation gradually dissipated. She grasped her hand, her voice solemn: "Mo Qing, I..."
Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from afar, interrupting her.
Shen Fu rushed over, looking flustered, and said, "Young Master! Something terrible has happened! An imperial decree has arrived from the capital, saying that the Imperial Household Department wants to cooperate with our Shen family to purchase Western goods, and you are required to come to the capital immediately to discuss it!"
Shen Rulan was taken aback—she had received a letter from the Imperial Household Department inviting her to cooperate, but she hadn't expected it to come so quickly, and they even issued a special decree summoning her to the capital.
She looked at Su Moqing, her eyes full of apology: "Moqing, it seems I will have to leave Yangzhou for a while."
Su Moqing paused in her hand holding the paintbrush, then smiled gently: "Go ahead without worry, I'll be waiting for you at the Shen residence. Be careful on your journey, remember to eat on time, and don't overwork yourself."
Seeing her sensible appearance, Shen Rulan felt even more guilty. She raised her hand and gently stroked her hair, saying softly, "I will come back as soon as possible. If you need anything in the manor, just tell Rong Mama or write to me."
“Okay.” Su Moqing nodded and handed her the painting. “This is a lotus flower I just painted. Take it with you and look at it on the way. Just think of it as me keeping you company.”
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