Chapter 2
The coarse porcelain pot on the medicine stove was bubbling with steam, and amber liquid formed beads along the mouth of the pot, sizzling in the charcoal ash. When Luo Sanzhen entered with the gilded tray, she saw the man on the couch with his eyes closed, the brocade quilt pulled up to his chin, but his eyelashes trembled ever so slightly, clearly having woken up at the smell of the medicine.
"Now that Master is awake, stop pretending to be asleep." She placed the tray on the small table beside the bed and took out the oil-paper package from the food box. The cloud cake inside was still steaming. "I specially went to a time-honored shop on West Street to buy it today. It has your favorite sesame filling."
The man on the couch remained motionless. Helpless, Luo Sanrong reached out to pull at the corner of his quilt: "Get up quickly and drink the medicine. If it gets cold, it will be even more bitter."
The master then raised his eyes, with a bit of childish anger in his eyes. As he sat up, he snorted: "I've told you many times, don't always spend money on medicine. If you have that spare money, it would be better to buy a few more boxes of cloud cakes." He picked up a piece of cake and stuffed it into his mouth, his cheeks bulging, but he did not forget to stare at the bowl of medicine. The dark brown medicine juice had a few pieces of licorice floating on it, and it looked bitter.
Luo Sanrong picked up the medicine bowl and handed it over, his tone brooking no room for argument: "Drink the medicine first."
With a clang, the medicine bowl fell to the ground. The coarse porcelain shattered into pieces, and the medicine liquid splattered on Luo Sanrong's blue cloth trouser legs, carrying a bitter, hot vapor. The master's voice suddenly became heavy: "You and I are not related, and I have nothing worth your attention. Why waste your time here? You should go find your lost mother. What's the point of always pestering me?"
Luo Sanrong was already used to his hypocritical outbursts, and continued squatting to pick up the porcelain pieces: "Since you adopted me back then, you naturally have to be responsible for me."
"Responsible?" The master laughed self-deprecatingly. "I can't even cure my own illness, so I'll only be a burden to you! Aren't you trying to save money to find your mother?" He suddenly changed the subject, his gaze landing on Luo Sanrong's tightly tied collar. "How long are you going to keep dressing like a man?"
Luo Sanrong's hand, picking up the porcelain pieces, paused, her fingertips turning white. These words were like a needle, always able to pierce her softest spot.
Didn't she want to wear her daughter's ruqun again? When she was little, she secretly found her mother's moon-white ruqun from her treasured box. As soon as she tied the laces on the skirt, her mother grabbed her arm and beat her mercilessly. Her knuckles hit her forehead, and her voice trembled: "Women's clothing is a death warrant! Do you want to kill yourself and the people around you?" Since then, she has never touched women's clothing again.
"Why are you bringing this up again?" Her voice lowered, with a subtle hint of grievance.
The master wanted to say something else when he suddenly heard a voice called "Brother Luo" outside the courtyard gate. He swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue and turned his head to look out the window.
Luo Sanying seemed to be saved and quickly stood up: "The medicine is still warm on the stove, you can drink it yourself." After saying that, he hurried out without even having time to clean up the broken porcelain pieces.
Her stall was set up on the east side of her courtyard wall. On the wooden shelves were several volumes of old books and half a box of wolf-hair brushes. The most conspicuous thing was a wooden sign with the words "Ghostwriting Letters" on it, the edges of which were worn off due to the paint.
At this moment, a young man in brocade clothes, with a fair complexion and no beard, was standing in front of the wooden stand. He was her "big client", Master Zheng, the only son of a wealthy family in this town. Three months ago, for some reason, he had started exchanging letters with someone and came to her every day to ask for his help, and he was very generous.
"Master Zheng, are you here to retrieve the letter today?" Luo Sanrong casually sat down on the wooden stool, took out a piece of plain paper and spread it on the table, then pinched the wolf hair brush with his fingertips and dipped it in ink.
Young Master Zheng pulled out a piece of pink paper from his sleeve. When he handed it to him, his face turned red and his voice softened: "Look, Brother Luo, she wrote me a reply."
Luo Sanzhen unfolded the letter. The handwriting was gentle and graceful, and at the end, a small red seal bearing the inscription "Ming An" was stamped. It read, "Sir, has your cough recovered recently? Spring is a time of abundant pollen. Don't let your heart be troubled by the flowers."
"Look how considerate she is." Young Master Zheng came closer, his eyes shining like falling stars, and the corners of his mouth almost stretched to his ears.
Luo Sanrong looked at his silly expression and curled her lips helplessly: "Want to write a reply?"
"Write, write!" Young Master Zheng nodded vigorously, then scratched his head. "But what should I say? I can't just say 'My cough is much better', right?"
"Just write what you really want to say." Luo Sanrong held the pen, the tip of the pen hovering over the paper. "I'm writing for you, not lying for you. Write whatever you want to say to her."
"Yes, the truth!" Master Zheng suddenly understood and hurriedly picked up the ink stick to grind ink for her. The ink swirled in the inkstone, emitting a faint scent of pine smoke.
As Luo Sanrong wrote, he casually mentioned, "I'm leaving town with my master soon. When do you plan to finish writing this letter?"
Young Master Zheng stopped grinding ink and said, "If I don't write a letter... what should I do?"
"Don't you want to see her?" Luo Sanying raised his eyes with a hint of mischief in them.
Young Master Zheng seemed to be under a spell, and after a long pause he murmured, "I do... Of course I do."
Meanwhile, in the side hall of Xia Anguo's Eastern Palace, Li Yin was pinching the same pink paper, his knuckles turning white. Across from him, Princess Ming'an was eating a piece of osmanthus cake, her cheeks bulging with joy, completely oblivious to the dismal look on her brother's face.
"Who wrote this?" Li Yin's voice was as cold as the snow outside the palace. His eyes swept over the trembling maids at the steps. "How dare you use such lies to deceive the princess!"
The maid's knees gave way and she knelt down, her handkerchief clenched into a ball in her hand. "Your Highness, spare me! I only dared to go to the old locust tree on West Street to get the letter as agreed. I really don't know who wrote it!"
Li Yin looked at her terrified expression, knowing she wouldn't dare lie, and he lowered his head to read the reply letter. At the end of the letter, it read: "If it's convenient for you, young master, I'd like to meet you at Yuquan Temple on the outskirts of the city near the end of spring to enjoy the last cherry blossoms together."
"She's going to meet this lecher?" Li Yin's brows furrowed even tighter as he looked at the maid. "How should we handle this?"
"No, the princess won't go?" the maid whispered tentatively.
"If she knew, she would definitely blame me." Li Yin rejected it, stroking the three words "Yuquan Temple" on the paper with his fingertips, with a cold light in his eyes.
"Then, then just say you haven't received this reply?" the maid asked again.
Li Yin finally relaxed his brows, crumpled up the paper and threw it into the incense burner. Sparks flew, and soon the paper was burned to ashes. "That's it."
The maid breathed a sigh of relief and quickly bowed her head and left. Li Yin, however, walked to the window, looked at the palace wall in the distance, and thought to himself: I must meet this lecher who dared to seduce the princess.
Three days later, Luo Sanrong was practicing basic opera troupe skills in a corner of the courtyard. She had been in an opera troupe as a child, and her body was more flexible than that of an average man. Suddenly, two servants rushed in and grabbed her arms without saying a word.
"What are you doing?" Luo Sanying struggled, but was dragged towards Zheng's house.
When they arrived at Master Zheng's study, Master Zheng saw her and immediately tugged at her long blue cloth gown, his fingertips trembling: "Hurry, change it!"
Luo Sanrong's heart skipped a beat, and he clutched his clothes tightly. "What does Master Zheng mean by this?"
The servant beside him hurried forward to explain, "Don't be offended, Brother Luo. My young master wants to meet that girl, but she's too high-ranking. I heard she's from a royal family. My young master gets nervous and stutters, and he's afraid it might ruin his plans. So, he wants you to go meet her on his behalf, just as... just to wrap things up."
"Ending?" Luo Sanrong laughed angrily, "I wrote the love letter on your behalf, but it contains your true feelings. I went to see her for you, and if the truth is revealed, it would be a deception. If she pursues the matter, you can bear the consequences, but I can't." After saying that, he turned around and was about to leave.
"Brother Luo, please wait!" Young Master Zheng hurriedly pulled out a string of copper coins, a full hundred coins, from his sleeve and handed it to her. "This, this is the deposit! After the deal is done, I'll give you another two hundred coins!"
Luo Sanrong paused, her fingertips touching the copper coin, the cool rust rubbing against her fingertips. She turned back, her face tense, but her tone softened. "I'm not doing this for the money. I just see your sincerity and I can't bear to see it go to waste."
After that, she took the copper coin and stuffed it into her lapel, weighing it and saying, "Okay, I'll go for you."
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