Chapter Twenty-Seven: Cao An's Mischief
In Yangzhou in the twelfth lunar month, the chill had penetrated to the bone.
Fine snowflakes fell like cotton, covering the bluestone road with a thin layer of silver. From a distance, the entire city seemed to be shrouded in a hazy veil.
Thin ice had just begun to form on the canal, and several painted boats were quietly moored on the shore, their awnings covered with thick snow. The scene of music and bright lights that once filled the canal was nowhere to be seen.
As the year draws to a close, the streets are much quieter than in previous years. Occasionally, a few pedestrians hurry by, their footsteps crunching on the snow before disappearing around the corner.
Although the shops were all open, few customers were seen. The shop assistants gathered in twos and threes at the doorways, gazing at the snowy sky and talking in hushed tones. An indescribable sense of oppression hung in the air, like the calm before a storm.
Although Cao Jin had fallen from power, Cao An did not give up easily. This man, who claimed to be a distant cousin of Cao Jin, did not leave Yangzhou after being turned down at "Moxiangzhai". Instead, he stayed at the Yuelai Inn in the south of the city.
He booked the most secluded courtyard of the inn and stayed inside all day, yet suspicious people would often visit him late at night.
Most of those people were dressed in ordinary cotton robes, but they walked briskly and had sharp eyes, clearly not ordinary people.
The innkeeper of Yuelai Inn was tight-lipped about this, always giving evasive answers whenever someone asked. Only the waiter would occasionally whisper to regular customers, "That young master Cao is very generous, but he has a strange temper and never lets anyone into his courtyard. Strangers often visit at night and stay until the middle of the night."
Early that morning, before dawn, the largest market in Yangzhou was already bustling with activity.
Vendors carrying fresh vegetables had already secured good spots, setting up their stalls and whispering among themselves.
The white breath exhaled condensed into frost in the cold air, mingling with the rising heat from the stall.
"Have you heard? That Miss Su who lives in the Shen residence is actually related to the Cao family!" an old man selling vegetables said in a low voice, while looking around warily.
The woman selling fish nearby immediately came over: "That's right, it's said that he received favors from the Cao family back then... and even did things for Cao Jin..." She deliberately dragged out her words, which made several vendors around her prick up their ears.
"Tsk tsk, you can never truly know a person's heart just by looking at them!" a younger vegetable vendor said, shaking his head. "He always seemed so aloof, I never expected..."
Rumors are like the cold winter wind, seeping into everything.
Within half a day, the streets and alleys of Yangzhou were buzzing with talk of Su Moqing's "relationship" with the Cao family.
In teahouses and taverns, people whispered amongst themselves; in the streets and alleys, women gathered together and murmured amongst themselves.
Some even went so far as to claim that Su Moqing had accepted money from the Cao family to pass on messages, fabricating a story with great detail and conviction.
The snow fell even harder.
Snowflakes, as white as goose feathers, fluttered down, adorning the entire city of Yangzhou in a silvery white blanket.
Inside the painting room of the Shen Mansion, the charcoal fire burned brightly, but it could not dispel the chill in Su Moqing's heart.
She was copying a painting titled "Snowy Landscape with Cold Forest," but her brush trembled incessantly. A few words drifting in from outside the window pierced her heart like needles.
On the painting table, a blot of ink spread across the Xuan paper, just like her state of mind at that moment.
A few sparks occasionally popped from the silver charcoal in the brazier, standing out clearly in the quiet room.
“Miss Su…” The maid Xiao Cui stood timidly at the door, hesitant to speak. She held a cup of freshly brewed hot tea in her hand, the aroma of which wafted through the air, but could not dispel the heavy atmosphere in the room.
Su Moqing didn't look up, but said softly, "Tell me, what's being said outside?" Her voice was frighteningly calm, but her fingers holding the paintbrush turned slightly white.
Xiao Cui twisted the hem of her clothes and stammered as she recounted the rumors she had heard. With each sentence, her head drooped lower, as if the foul language were coming from her own mouth.
Su Moqing finally put down her pen. She remembered her father's words, "The innocent will remain innocent," but faced with such vicious slander, a pang of sorrow still welled up in her heart. The hardships she endured in those years, treating her father's illness and making a living by selling paintings, were still vivid in her mind. When had she ever received even the slightest favor from the Cao family?
His fingertips were clenched so tightly they turned white, and a drop of ink fell from the tip of the brush, spreading across the rice paper like the trace of a tear.
The snow outside the window fell heavier and heavier, covering the whole world in a blanket of white, yet it could not wash away the filth in people's hearts.
"Mo Qing!" Shen Rulan's voice came from outside the door, accompanied by hurried footsteps. She had clearly rushed over; unmelted snowflakes still clung to her hair, and her dark blue brocade cloak was damp. She immediately noticed Su Mo Qing's reddened eyes, and her heart ached. She quickly stepped forward and took her cold hand in hers.
“Don’t listen to that nonsense,” Shen Rulan said firmly. “I’ve already sent Shen Fu to investigate who’s spreading these rumors. We’ll make that person pay the price!” Her hand was warm and strong, as if she wanted to transfer her strength to Su Moqing through that contact.
Su Moqing forced a smile: "I know. It's just... gossip is a fearsome thing." Her voice was very soft, as if she was afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the room.
Outside the window, another gust of wind and snow swept by, pattering against the window frame and making a rustling sound.
"The innocent will remain innocent, and the guilty will remain guilty." Shen Rulan gripped her hand tightly. "I will go and deal with this matter now. You should rest well in the manor and not think too much about it." As she turned around, her cloak billowed in an arc, bringing a touch of chill.
After Shen Rulan left, the studio returned to silence.
Su Moqing walked to the window and looked at the snow-covered plum trees in the courtyard.
The red plum blossoms looked especially beautiful against the backdrop of white snow, reminding her of her father's favorite lines of poetry: "The plum blossoms may be three parts less white than the snow, but the snow lacks the fragrance of the plum blossoms." If her father were still alive, he would surely offer gentle words of comfort, teaching her to treat these right and wrongs with equanimity.
Shen Rulan went straight to the front hall, where Shen Fu was already waiting, his face solemn.
"Have you found out?" Shen Rulan's voice was as cold as ice, completely different from her gentle demeanor in the art studio just now.
"Reporting to Young Master, we've found out." Shen Fu bowed and said, "The rumors originated from the Yuelai Inn, the very inn where Cao An is staying. Moreover..." He paused, lowering his voice, "Cao An has been frequently in contact with several salt merchants who were once affiliated with the Cao family these past few days, seemingly plotting something. Last night, someone even saw Chief Li of the Salt Tax Bureau secretly go to the Yuelai Inn."
A cold glint flashed in Shen Rulan's eyes: "That Cao An! How dare he do this! Take men to the Yuelai Inn immediately and place Cao An under house arrest. No one is allowed to visit him without my permission!"
"Yes!" Shen Fu accepted the order and left, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall.
Shen Rulan turned to the servant beside her and said, "Prepare the sedan chair, we're going to 'Moxiangzhai'." Her tone was authoritative, carrying the authority of the head of the household.
Inside the Moxianzhai shop, Manager Chen was in a state of utter distress. Many regular customers had come to inquire about Su Moqing, and some were even demanding refunds for their pre-ordered paintings.
The atmosphere inside the store was terribly heavy, and the staff were all dejected and dared not say a word.
"Manager Chen," Shen Rulan's voice came from the doorway, "How is business today?" She stepped inside, the snowflakes on her cloak melting quickly in the warm room, leaving faint watermarks.
Manager Chen rushed forward as if he had seen a savior: "Young Master Chen, you've finally arrived! What... what should we do?" He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice filled with anxiety.
Shen Rulan looked around the shop and saw several customers whispering among themselves. She deliberately raised her voice and said, "I've come here today for this very reason. Please invite everyone over, Manager Chen. I have something to say."
In a short while, a large crowd had gathered in the Ink Fragrance Studio. Shen Rulan stood in the hall and said loudly, "Recently, there have been some untrue rumors circulating in Yangzhou City about Miss Su, which I'm sure you've all heard. Today, I, Shen, would like to clarify: Miss Su Moqing has absolutely no connection with the Cao family! In the case of Scholar Li back then, it was Miss Su who asked me for help. How could there be any talk of 'receiving favors from the Cao family'?"
Her voice was clear and powerful, echoing in the quiet shop.
murmurs arose from the crowd; some nodded, while others still looked doubtful.
Manager Chen seized the opportunity to say, "Exactly! I know Miss Su's character and painting skills best. Over the years, she has devoted herself to painting and has never been involved in any of those controversies." His words resonated with some of his regular customers, who echoed his sentiments.
Shen Rulan added, "To prove my innocence, I have already printed the poems that Miss Su compiled for Scholar Li's paintings into a book, which will be distributed to various businesses and academies in Yangzhou immediately." She gestured to her attendant to hand a beautifully bound booklet to Manager Chen.
The booklet's title page clearly records Su Moqing's life: her father, Su Wenyuan, was originally an instructor at the Yangzhou Prefectural School. Because he refused to compromise his principles and favoritism in admitting the son of a salt merchant, he was falsely accused of embezzling government stipends and dismissed from his post, leading to the family's decline. To treat her father's chronic illness, Su Moqing sold paintings to support herself, working day and night, but unfortunately, her father's illness worsened and he passed away. Afterwards, she went to Guazhou Town to study under Scholar Li, serving as his tutor and assisting in organizing ancient books and compiling poetry and prose collections. Every word and sentence exudes an air of integrity and uprightness.
Someone in the crowd exclaimed, "So that's how it is! I knew Miss Su wasn't that kind of person!"
"Even after the Cao family fell from power, they still stir up trouble. It's truly despicable!"
"I vaguely remember Mr. Su's case; he was indeed framed..."
The rumors gradually subsided, but Shen Rulan's unease did not lessen.
Three days later, on a snowy night, Lin Zhennan hurriedly arrived at the Shen residence. His cloak was covered with a thick layer of snow, and his face was as solemn as the winter night sky.
"Young Master Shen, something's happened!" Lin Zhennan didn't have time for pleasantries and said directly, "A shipment of Western goods that Xiao'er was escorting to Guangzhou was robbed by bandits at Black Wind Ridge! Three of the bodyguards were also injured." His voice was hoarse with anxiety, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Shen Rulan paused, her teacup still in her hand. "Black Wind Ridge? Isn't that the bandit stronghold that the Cao family colluded with years ago?" The water in the teacup rippled, reflecting her suddenly solemn expression.
"Exactly!" Lin Zhennan slammed his fist on the table in anger. "It must be Cao An's men colluding with the mountain bandits! Those bandits are familiar with the terrain; they were obviously prepared in advance." The tea set on the table clattered loudly, just like his agitated mood.
Shen Rulan's expression was grave. After a moment's hesitation, she said decisively, "Chief Escort Lin, this matter cannot be left like this. I have decided to personally lead the guards to Black Wind Ridge to investigate and make sure to wipe out the bandits in one fell swoop, cutting off Cao An's claws!" Her voice was firm and powerful, exceptionally clear in the silent night sky.
Lin Zhennan exclaimed, "Young Master Chen, please reconsider! Black Wind Ridge is a dangerous place, and the bandits are fierce. How can you, a person of your noble birth, take such a risk?" His tone was full of worry, and his brows were furrowed.
“It is precisely because the bandits are so fierce that they must be eradicated completely,” Shen Rulan said resolutely. “Otherwise, they will continue to harm merchants and disrupt the local area in the future.” She stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the swirling snow outside, as if she had made up her mind.
Upon hearing the news, Su Moqing was filled with worry, but she knew she couldn't stop Shen Rulan.
That night, the light in her room stayed on until the third watch. The flickering candlelight cast her busy figure on the window paper.
By candlelight, she carefully sewed a talisman. The brocade was indigo blue, a color Shen Rulan liked, and it was stuffed with lavender and mugwort—both medicinal herbs used to calm the mind and ward off evil.
As she finished the last stitch, she secretly slipped a small note into the talisman, on which were written in neat regular script the four characters "Return in Peace." Each character was written with utmost care, as if she wanted to condense all her blessings into these four words.
The snow stopped temporarily the following morning.
Shen Rulan was instructing the servants to prepare their luggage when Su Moqing arrived carrying a good luck charm. Her eyes were slightly red, clearly indicating that she hadn't slept all night.
"Here, take this," she said softly, her eyes filled with worry. "Be careful on your journey. I'll be waiting for you at the manor." Her voice was soft, yet it carried an undisguised concern.
Shen Rulan took the amulet, still warm from his body, and a warm feeling welled up in her heart. She held Su Moqing's hand and said solemnly, "Don't worry, I will definitely come back safely and give you peace and quiet."
Their hands were clasped tightly, as if they wanted to convey their courage and trust to each other through this contact.
Inside the courtyard, the troops were already prepared.
Shen Rulan mounted her horse, her cloak billowing in the morning breeze. She glanced back at Su Moqing, her gaze resolute, then spurred her horse forward, leading her entourage through the snow.
Su Moqing stood at the doorway, watching the departing figure until it disappeared around the street corner. Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on the handkerchief in her hand, silently praying: May God protect her and bring her back safely.
The cold wind whipped up the snow on the ground, swirling it in the air.
The streets and alleys of Yangzhou City remain deserted...
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