It is said that Xianglan only sat for a short while and returned before even finishing one act of the opera. For a time, nothing happened. The next morning, Huamei came, beaming with joy as she greeted Xianglan. Seeing Xianglan cutting fabric for clothes by the large window-facing kang, she leaned in to take a look, covering her mouth with a laugh and saying, "Oh, this garment is too dark in color, and the fabric is coarse. Why are you making this?"
Xianglan replied, "My master’s birthday is in a few days. I’m making her a monastic robe as a small token of filial piety."
Huamei sat down and said, "I’ve heard you used to live in a temple. What was life like there? What did you learn and recite? Did you learn to read in the temple, sister?"
Xianglan said, "I only recognize a few characters from the sutras."
Huamei asked, "I heard your father is now the manager at a pawnshop. He must be doing quite well, right? How much is his monthly salary? For a manager like him, it must be at least five or six taels of silver, isn’t it?"
Xianglan glanced at Huamei, then lowered her head to continue working on the clothes, saying, "I don’t know. My father never discusses such matters with me."
Huamei laughed, "How could you not know?" Seeing that Xianglan remained silent, she pressed further, "Where does your family live now? How big is the courtyard?"
Xianglan replied, "We live in a dilapidated house, not worth mentioning or valuing."
Huamei thought to herself, "I intended to pry some information from her, but she turns out to be someone who claims ignorance to every question." She then asked about Lin Jinlou’s daily routine, but Xianglan had Chunling answer instead, continuing to focus on her needlework without saying an extra word.
Huamei, however, was extremely patient and chatted idly for a long while before finally taking her leave. Chunling gritted her teeth and said, "Miss, why did you let that gossip into the room? Don’t you know how Lan Yiniang met her end? She comes in asking all sorts of questions—how annoying!"
Xianglan smiled and said, "Let her ask. When she gets no response, she’ll eventually stop."
By noon, after lunch, Yingge arrived, bringing two handmade needlework items. She first thanked Xianglan and chatted with her for a while. Before leaving, Xianglan gave her embroidery patterns and a package of snacks. Knowing Yingge was currently in difficult circumstances, she also gave her several pieces of leftover silk fabric. Yingge expressed profuse gratitude before departing.
At dusk, Luanr came, clearly dressed up meticulously. She wore a water-red satin jacket, a pea-green plain plum-patterned skirt, and emerald-green mandarin duck embroidered shoes. Her face was powdered, and her hair was neatly styled. Because of the rift between her and Xianglan, Luanr was unwilling to lower herself to speak to Xianglan. Upon entering the room, she merely nodded as a greeting and sat stiffly in a chair.
Since she remained silent, Xianglan was content with the peace and continued working on her clothes. Out of respect for Shu Ran, Chunling served Luanr a cup of tea and asked a few questions. Seeing Luanr still acting aloof and cold, Chunling inwardly sneered and walked away.
The room fell into silence.
Luanr had not visited the main room often and looked around, noticing that the furnishings had changed since her last visit. The curios on the multi-tiered shelves had been replaced with more exquisite and valuable ones, and a few calligraphy and painting scrolls now adorned the walls. The curtains, seat cushions, backrests, and chair cushions were all in lotus-root color, no longer the deep indigo or dark green that Lin Jinlou preferred.Xianglan sat on the kang, her needle flying swiftly as she embroidered. She remained perfectly composed, as if she were the rightful occupant of this room, while Luanr felt herself an unwelcome intruder. Thinking of her own small chamber, which, though furnished, could not compare to this one, Luanr grew increasingly uncomfortable.
Xianglan stole several glances at Luanr and noticed her restlessness—she shifted positions frequently, occasionally sipping her tea, and repeatedly made as if to leave before restraining herself.
Raising her head to rub her neck, Xianglan prompted Xiao Juan to set aside her own work and refill her teacup. After taking a sip, Xianglan reflected on the day’s bustle. Luanr had been the first to arrive, ostensibly to test the waters and gauge Xianglan’s background, yet she had lingered for a full three hours. Yingge had come specifically to express her gratitude but stayed only long enough to finish a cup of tea. Luanr, however, was the most earnest, waiting here with hopeful anticipation for Lin Jinlou’s return.
Xianglan sighed inwardly. Luanr was, after all, just a naive young girl. Proud and fiery by nature, she would ordinarily have erupted in fury at such neglect. Yet here she was, enduring the slight, dressed beautifully and sitting primly, all for the sake of a man who cared little for her—a truly pitiable sight.
As these thoughts crossed her mind, the door curtain was pushed aside, and Lin Jinlou strode in, loudly complaining of thirst before collapsing onto the kang. Xianglan hurriedly gathered the half-finished garment she was working on, while Chunling rushed to pour tea. Luanr also rose quickly, intending to greet him, but Lin Jinlou paid her no heed. Instead, he picked up the monk’s cap Xianglan was making, fiddled with it, and said, “What’s this? What are you working on?”
This was the first time he had spoken to her in days. Xianglan glanced at him covertly and noticed a smile playing on his lips, his demeanor as buoyant as a spring breeze—clearly, something fortunate had occurred outside. She replied, “My master’s birthday is approaching. I’m making a set of monastic robes for her.”
Lin Jinlou frowned, tossed the cap into Xianglan’s lap, and said, “Oh, so you can sew such things. Since you arrived, you haven’t even made me a pouch. I thought you didn’t know how.” He took her hand, rubbing it in his palm, and chuckled, “Make something for me tomorrow, and I’ll reward you for it.” He then leaned in to kiss her.
Xianglan felt distinctly uneasy. She couldn’t comprehend how this man, who had been as stern as the King of Hell just yesterday, could now be joking amiably with her as if nothing had happened. Glancing up, she saw Luanr standing there, her face pale, and immediately blushed, pushing Lin Jinlou away as she stammered, “I—I need to fetch something from my room,” before darting out.
Lin Jinlou, displeased, turned and noticed Luanr still standing there. Puzzled, he asked, “Why are you here?”
Flustered, Luanr stumbled over her words, unable to respond.
Chunling, who had been waiting outside, hurried in and explained, “Miss Xianglan invited Luanr to keep her company and relieve her boredom…”
Lin Jinlou nodded and said to Luanr, “If Xianglan asked you to come, then come. She’s too quiet by nature—having someone to chat with is good, so she doesn’t brood and take it out on me.”
His words drained the color from Luanr’s face, which then flushed red. She stood there, trapped between humiliation and anger, unsure whether to respond or not. Resentment welled up inside her, and tears glistened in her eyes.Lin Jinlou downed a cup of tea and called Chunling over, saying, "Tell the kitchen to prepare something warm for the evening. The noodles from yesterday were good—have them make that again today. Osmanthus cake is also fine; go steam a fresh batch."
Upon receiving the order, Chunling sent the young servant to relay the dishes.
Lin Jinlou drank another cup of tea and, turning his head, noticed Luanr still standing there. He asked in surprise, "Why haven't you left yet?"
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