FHJ - 9

Chapter 9: The Tea Gathering (3)

The announcement sparked murmurs among the noblewomen. From Scholar Lu’s remarks, it seemed he openly admitted that Wei fell short of Jiangzuo in scholarship.

This wasn’t entirely surprising. Everyone knew that Wei had built its empire through military might rather than academic tradition, which indeed lagged behind that of Liang. However, having it so plainly pointed out in this setting stung. Moreover, the recent verbal sparring between the Lady of Yan Guogong—a native of Liang—and the wife of the Grand Historian only deepened the discomfort among the Wei women.

One woman, overcome by indignation, momentarily forgot her usual flattery of Yan Guogong to advance her husband’s career. Instead, she remarked slyly: “Qi Ying of Liang truly lives up to his reputation, proving the strength of Liang’s scholarly tradition. Yet, seeing the envoy’s eloquence today, there’s no trace of the illness he supposedly suffered from recently. Perhaps his absence from the polo match was simply fear of losing face?”

Her comment drew murmurs of agreement. Another woman chimed in: “There’s some truth to that. Everyone knows the families of Jiangzuo indulge in decadence and extravagance. The infamous Five-Stone Powder originated there, and I’ve heard the envoy himself partakes in it. Over time, such habits surely weaken the body, making him inferior to our robust Wei men. Avoiding the polo match to prevent embarrassment would be understandable.”

The calmer women discreetly glanced at the Lady of Yan Guogong’s expression. Her usually serene and angelic face now bore traces of disdainful anger, chilling to behold. Just as they expected her to lash out, another voice interjected: “Ridiculous! If you’re inferior, admit it—why slander others? Qi Jingchen is a hero of turbulent times and a renowned minister of Jiangzuo, a lifelong rival of my beloved Brother Wenruo. By disparaging him, aren’t you also insulting Brother Wenruo?”

Everyone turned to see who had spoken—it was Xue Yuan.

The twenty-three-year-old spinster of Shangjing, still unmarried, stood up furiously, her almond-shaped eyes blazing with indignation. Her poor mother and aunt tried desperately to pull her back and urge her to sit, but she refused. It was almost comical how she kept calling someone else’s husband “Brother Wenruo” while passionately defending his homeland. Truly, what karmic misfortune could drive a noblewoman to speak so shamelessly!

Stunned and angered, the others were momentarily speechless. Seizing the opportunity, Lady Zhong stepped in to smooth things over, remedying her earlier failure to intervene. Smiling warmly, she addressed the gathering: “The servants report that the gentlemen in the front yard have begun enjoying wine and critiquing poetry and paintings. Why don’t we do the same? Let’s not be outdone by their leisurely pursuits.”

Such a tactful intervention naturally earned compliance. The women quickly agreed, praising her suggestion. The servants of the Deputy Chief Censor’s household, perhaps influenced by their mistress’s diplomacy, proved exceptionally perceptive. Without prompting, they began serving fragrant tea and delicate pastries. With the servants so diligent, the noblewomen couldn’t very well reject Lady Zhong’s efforts. They shifted gears, striving to restore harmony, and soon laughter filled the backyard, erasing all traces of the earlier discord.

Lianzi and Wanzhu exchanged uneasy glances as they followed Shen Xiling.

Earlier, their mistress had clashed with several women in the backyard and seemed upset. Now, she had quietly excused herself from the gathering and wandered into the garden of the Deputy Chief Censor’s residence.

It was highly unusual for their mistress to lose her temper. Having served her for five years, they had never seen her argue with anyone, not even during those early days after her marriage when the nobles of Shangjing often spoke ill of her. Despite the harsh words directed at her then, she had always responded with a smile, never truly showing anger.

But today, she had lost her temper—not only that, but she had openly argued with others. This left Lianzi and Wanzhu deeply worried, especially since General Gu was occupied with military affairs and hadn’t accompanied the Lady today, making them even more anxious for her well-being.

Lianzi glanced at Shen Xiling, who was leaning against a rockery watching butterflies, and hesitated for a long while before saying, “Mistress, you’ve been out here for quite some time. If we delay any longer, it might not look good back at the gathering. Perhaps… we should return?”

Shen Xiling acknowledged her with a sound, but neither replied nor rose. Lianzi and Wanzhu couldn’t discern her intentions and exchanged another glance. Fearing further delay, Lianzi gently urged her again.

Fortunately, their mistress heeded their advice. After a moment, she stood up to leave, but her direction seemed slightly off—she was heading toward the front yard. At first, Lianzi and Wanzhu thought she was merely wandering aimlessly, but as they walked, they approached the stone gate separating the rear garden from the front yard. Crossing that threshold would lead directly into the men’s domain—an inappropriate move given today’s circumstances. Concerned for her reputation, Lianzi could no longer hold back and quickly said, “Mistress, that way leads to the front yard. It wouldn’t be proper for us to go there.”

At this, Shen Xiling stopped walking, though her gaze remained fixed ahead. After a pause, she seemed to smile faintly, but it was a hollow smile tinged with bitterness, even noticeable to someone as inexperienced as Wanzhu. In a low voice, she murmured, “You’re right—it wouldn’t be proper.”

She repeated the phrase twice, then suddenly asked Wanzhu about the hairpin in her temple, her tone unreadable. Startled, Wanzhu stammered out the truth. Shen Xiling listened silently, then slowly removed the golden hairpin from her hair and began turning it over in her hands. After a moment, she tucked it back into her sleeve and instructed Lianzi: “Go tell Lady Zhong that I’ve lost my hairpin. Please ask her to help me look for it.”

Both Lianzi and Wanzhu were stunned by this request. As Shen Xiling turned to look at them, Lianzi felt a jolt of unease and quickly nodded, hurrying away. She had barely taken a few steps when Shen Xiling called her back.

Turning around, she saw her breathtakingly beautiful mistress gazing at her, the red mole between her brows exuding an unusual charm.

“Tell Lady Zhong,” Shen Xiling said, “that this hairpin was a gift from the General. I treasure it deeply.”

Lianzi bowed her head and replied softly, “Yes.”

Meanwhile, Lady Pingjing was seething with anger, venting to her sister-in-law and niece: “That Shen Xiling! First, she caused embarrassment for everyone with her argument at the gathering, and now she’s troubling everyone to search for a mere hairpin. She’s truly infuriating!”

Half an hour earlier, the noblewomen had heard that the Lady of Yan Guogong had lost her hairpin—the very one the General had won for her. Upon hearing this, Lady Zhong had immediately dispatched servants to search for it. However, after a prolonged effort, the hairpin remained unfound. Some women speculated that perhaps a dishonest servant had taken it.

Hearing this, Lady Zhong felt deeply uneasy, fearing that the noblewomen and young ladies of Shangjing would think less of her for poor management or incompetence. Determined to rectify the situation, she personally joined the search, scouring the entire estate with her staff.

Around the same time, news spread that chaos had erupted among the men in the front yard. It was said that Prince Jing, having drunk excessively, was now inebriated to the point of incoherence, shouting nonsense like “Jiangzuo is truly elegant!”—a complete loss of decorum expected of the Wei royal family. Reportedly, most of the gentlemen present were heavily intoxicated, including several senior scholars. Half of the male guests lay sprawled unconscious in the hall, while the other half sought refuge in guest rooms provided by the Chief Censor. Only a few unruly young aristocrats, emboldened by alcohol, mistakenly wandered into the rear garden, startling the noblewomen and turning the tea gathering into utter disarray. With Lady Zhong overwhelmed and unable to manage everything simultaneously, the carefully orchestrated event descended into chaos. Men spilled into the women’s quarters, while the noblewomen scattered in all directions, seeking refuge wherever they could.

What a calamity!

When Shen Xiling dismissed her maids and finally made her way through the winding corridors and pavilions, catching sight of Bai Song in the distance, her heart fell silent for a fleeting moment.

The man who had been familiar to her many years ago was casually leaning against the doorframe of a guest room in the Chief Censor’s residence, a bamboo leaf held lightly between his teeth. Hearing footsteps approach, he looked up and appeared surprised to see her.

He raised an eyebrow, straightened slightly, and flashed her a smile. The faint scar on his left brow remained unchanged from her memory.

Wei, located in the north, lacked the pleasant climate of Jiangzuo. Winters in Shangjing were long, but affluent households emulated Jiangzuo customs by planting bamboo in their courtyards, meticulously tended by skilled gardeners despite the challenges of cultivation. Lady Zhong’s meticulous management ensured that even this small guesthouse courtyard featured bamboo, though not particularly lush, it still carried a certain charm. Amidst the gentle breeze rustling through the green bamboo, Shen Xiling felt as if the scene blurred with a courtyard from her distant memories, leaving her momentarily dazed.

It wasn’t her fault for feeling disoriented; the presence of an old acquaintance inevitably blurred the lines of time. Moreover, Bai Song seemed untouched by the passage of years. Even after so long, he remained much as she remembered him during their first meeting—tall, taciturn, yet not cold.

She smiled at him and took a step forward.