Lin Jinlou carried her out the door in his embrace. Xianglan huddled under the covers, her head throbbing with pain, her stomach churning, her face stinging fiercely, her entire body weak and devoid of strength. She simply lowered her head and let Lin Jinlou do as he pleased.
They encountered no one along the way. The sedan chair was waiting just outside the second gate. Lin Jinlou placed Xianglan inside and ordered Xiao Juan to bring a pot of Osmanthus soup to attend to her along the journey. Only then did he take the reins and mount his horse.
Guiyuan was initially startled to see Xianglan wrapped up like a silkworm cocoon as Lin Jinlou carried her out. She didn’t dare look at Xianglan’s face but stole a glance at Lin Jinlou instead, noticing several bloody scratches on his left cheek, clearly made by fingernails. Guiyuan was horrified and didn’t dare stare at Lin Jinlou’s face any longer.
Just then, Xiao Juan lifted the sedan curtain and beckoned, “Little Guiyuan, come here.”
Hearing this, Guiyuan hurried over with a flurry of steps, her face beaming with a smile. “What does Sister Xiao Juan need?” she asked quietly, then added in a hushed tone, “What’s wrong with our mistress? Is she ill?” As she spoke, she glanced toward Lin Jinlou and winked at Xiao Juan.
Xiao Juan rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t ask about things that aren’t your business.” She handed a bundle to Guiyuan, stuffing it into her hands. “Take this. It’s some soiled clothes with a smell that might make the mistress dizzy. Give it back to me when we return to the residence.”
Guiyuan accepted it with a pained expression. Xiao Juan chuckled softly, then handed over four pieces of pastry wrapped in a handkerchief. “Take these to eat—they’re still warm. When we get home, I’ll have the mistress reward you.” With that, she let the curtain fall.
Seeing that Xiao Juan was unwilling to say more and noticing her slightly reddened eyes, clearly from crying earlier, Guiyuan didn’t dare press further. She simply followed at a distance, holding the clothes and avoiding any trouble with her superiors.
Xianglan remained unwell throughout the journey. Xiao Juan poured Osmanthus soup from the pot and fed it to her to counteract the effects of alcohol, then used a hairpin to press on several of her acupoints. Only then did Xianglan begin to feel somewhat better. By the time they returned to the Lin residence, she was drowsy and disoriented. In her haze, someone lifted her and placed her on a bed. The bedding and pillow carried a strong scent of mint and Borneol, entirely different from the subtle, soft fragrance of her own bed. She shifted uncomfortably, her hand brushing against a round bolster, which she hugged to her chest, curling her body into a ball. As her swollen face rubbed against the pillow, she gasped in pain from the sting and whimpered pitifully, “Mother, it hurts…” A tear rolled down from the corner of her eye.
A moment later, someone wiped the tear from her eye and covered her with another quilt. Soon after, a rough finger applied ointment to her face, but it only made the pain worse. She shook her head but couldn’t avoid it. A harsh voice grumbled, “Stay still. What are you squirming for?” After things quieted down, she hugged the pillow and fell into a deep sleep.
She didn’t know how long she had slept when she woke up thirsty, her ears faintly picking up voices.
“…So that old fool Zhao Jin actually submitted a memorial like that? Hah, he’s got some nerve. In recent years, the emperor has treated him with such courtesy that he’s grown presumptuous. The crown prince’s position concerns the fate of the nation. The emperor has always been stubborn and self-willed—how could he tolerate others meddling?” The speaker was Lin Jinlou, his tone carrying its usual laziness and arrogance."You were once Zhao Jin's grandson-in-law, calling him 'old fellow' repeatedly isn't very respectful." Yuan Shaoren chuckled softly, while Lin Jinlou snorted dismissively. Yuan Shaoren continued, "Zhao Jin is the foremost literary talent of the court, currently serving as Chief Grand Secretary. His memorial advocating for the establishment of the crown prince is only natural."
"The eldest prince is benevolent but frail and sickly. His Majesty favors the second prince, saying his appearance, demeanor, speech, and temperament closely resemble his own. The emperor is utterly delighted with him. Previously, when still a prince, His Majesty once said, 'Strive hard, for the heir is often afflicted by illness.' The second prince's eyes gleamed like a starving tiger's—his wolfish ambition is no small matter. Just count on your fingers how many troops he's amassed to understand."
Xianglan, who had been drowsy, instantly awakened upon hearing their conversation. She suddenly realized these two were behind closed doors, recklessly discussing court affairs—particularly matters concerning the Crown Prince's Palace and the succession struggle. Xianglan couldn't help but recall the tragic fate of the Shen family in her previous life, cold sweat breaking out unconsciously. Surveying her surroundings, she saw above a canopy embroidered uniformly with golden threads depicting vines and joyful spiders, symbolizing continuous happy events. The bed curtains were tightly drawn, the bedding luxurious—not her usual sleeping arrangement. She quietly sat up and noticed several books by the bedside, along with a number of exquisite daggers and two or three folding fans, all used by Lin Jinlou. It dawned on her that this was his study.
Then she heard Yuan Shaoren say, "There's an order to age and seniority. The eldest prince is the legitimate firstborn, personally selected as heir by the late emperor—he holds the advantage. Memorials from court officials are said to have flooded the Grand Secretariat, all supporting the eldest prince. Now even Elder Zhao has submitted a memorial—this momentum likely can't be stopped. The eldest prince also has an exceptionally intelligent son, whom His Majesty dotes on deeply. Zhao Jin's memorial supporting the eldest prince for the Crown Prince's Palace lists this 'excellent imperial grandson' as the foremost point."
Lin Jinlou laughed, "If the second prince's beautiful dream shatters, that old man Zhao Jin will surely earn his hatred. Currently, His Majesty is in the prime of life and still quite fond of the second prince. For Zhao Jin to make such a move is gambling his entire clan's lives and fortunes—more stubbornly obtuse than even the Shen family back then. At least the Shen family had principles. Zhao Jin, accustomed to his brilliance and blunt speech, could have navigated this indirectly but instead exposed himself as a target."
Yuan Shaoren chuckled again, "You think everyone is like your family's Old Master—slippery and untouchable."
Lin Jinlou also laughed briefly before pausing and adding, "The second prince has sent me three invitations recently—I've declined with excuses each time. Another refusal might offend him. Everyone carries burning ambitions, coveting merit from supporting the rightful heir. The princes constantly recruit followers, but I can't be bothered with their petty squabbles. After my audience with His Majesty, I'll return to Jinling and lay low."
Yuan Shaoren shook his head. Lin Jinlou had truly inherited his family's Old Master's teachings—never taking the lead, maneuvering skillfully between sides, filled with shrewd calculations. The Lin family, deeply rooted and robust, acted without fanfare, bowing to whoever occupied the throne. Court officials often mocked them, "Where is their ministerial integrity?" Yet each generation of Lins produced capable officials, adhering to slippery moderation. Thus while numerous great families declined and became embroiled in disputes, the Lin family remained unshaken. He said, "I've received his invitations too and meant to discuss with you. Since that's the case, next time we'll accept once—discussing only romance and leisure, nothing else."Xianglan noticed an enamel polychrome pot on the bedside table. Reaching out to touch it, she found the pot still warm. Quietly, she took a matching teacup from nearby, poured half a cup, and gulped it down in one breath. She poured another half cup and was about to drink when she heard Yuan Shaoren teasing, "Alright, enough of that... Eagle Soar, what happened to your face? Who scratched you?"
"Bullshit, I got this during a spar."
"Heh, who are you trying to fool? It wasn't there yesterday, and today you're marked up. Besides, what gentleman keeps nails that long? You're not some catamite. Come on, which girl scratched you? Definitely not one from the brothel—those ladies would practically worship you... Could it be the one in your chamber? Who'd have thought such a quiet one would have such a temper. Did you bully her?"
"Get lost, go stand over there. I already told you it's from sparring. Believe it or not."
"Oh, getting defensive now? I'm just looking out for you, but you treat my kindness like donkey liver and lungs. You should really work on that temper of yours. Who'd want to live with a firecracker every day?... No wonder you specially invited me over today—can't show that face in public, huh?"
"Tch, why do you have so much nonsense to say!"
"Fine, fine, I'll stop. Let's go, time for some exercise outside. Haven't stretched these old bones in days."
"You go first, I need to change clothes." Lin Jinlou pushed the door open and raised his voice, "Shuangxi, Shuangxi! Prepare hot tea and snacks, bring out the weapons for Master Yuan to choose from." After speaking, he walked to the adjacent bedchamber. Just as he pulled open the wardrobe to get clothes, he paused, turned and went to the window instead, drawing back the curtains. There sat Xianglan on the bed, hair disheveled, hugging the quilt while holding half a bowl of warm tea. Having just woken from sleep, her eyes were more swollen than ever, like two peaches.
Xianglan stared at him, her heart pounding wildly, palms turning cold. Earlier, she had relied on seventy percent drunkenness to throw a fit, venting her resentment and anger at Lin Jinlou. Now that the alcohol had worn off and her senses were clear, fear crept up on her. She secretly glanced up and saw Lin Jinlou's left cheek facing the window, clearly illuminating the bloody scratches she had made. Xianglan felt both satisfaction and terror, conflicted as she lowered her head.
Lin Jinlou raised his eyebrows, hung the bed curtain on a silver hook nearby, and pinched Xianglan's chin, examining her from all angles. He said indifferently, "Good, the swelling's gone down. Apply the medicated cream once more, and it won't be noticeable by evening."
Xianglan hadn't expected these words from Lin Jinlou. Wide-eyed, she looked at him in astonishment.
Lin Jinlou nodded, withdrew his hand, and turned with utmost elegance to change his clothes by himself.
Xianglan's head still felt heavy and muddled as she remained frozen in place, feeling as if she were dreaming. After a while, Lin Jinlou finished changing and left. Some time later, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed, and only then did Xianglan snap out of her daze. She wondered what was wrong with that scoundrel—could he actually feel guilty? That was definitely impossible. That guy had no concept of right or wrong in his heart, acting solely on his own whims. She had thrown a tantrum, scratched his face, and cursed him out—he must have taken it as an insult, and who knew how much he secretly resented her for it...Xianglan was lost in her thoughts when she heard the door push open again. Shuran entered carrying a tiered food box, smiling as she said, "Madam, you're awake. Are you feeling better?" While speaking, she set up the kang table on the heated brick bed and began arranging the food from the box. "When you first returned, your face was deathly pale—you gave us quite a fright. But now you look much more spirited. After waking from a drunken state, you probably have little appetite. The Master instructed me to bring you something to eat, and I thought something light would be best."
On the kang table were placed three dishes of fresh, green, and fragrant seasonal vegetables, a plate of freshly steamed round rice cakes, and a bowl of soup. Xianglan, now genuinely feeling hungry, ate for a while. Shuran then directed a maidservant to clear the remnants and personally attended to Xianglan, helping her rinse her mouth. She then fetched her own dressing case and combed Xianglan's hair.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded at the door, followed by a young boy's clear voice calling out, "Father! Uncle Lin!" before he burst into the room.
Acknowledgments: Thank you to qian20051978 and Kuangbiao Xiao Ma 721 for the He's Jade Disc, to 05111039283 for the Peach Blossom Fan, to Mi Saisai and zhaoye1978 for the sachets, to daxiang8911 and Anchor2363 for two Peace Talismans, and to the elderly lady buying groceries at the door, Wu Wang Yi 1, lilywang1205, Bai Xi, Huihui—Sister, Junxi812, and the one who dislikes sashimi for the Peace Talismans. If I missed anyone who gave rewards, please forgive me. Also, thank you all for the pink votes ^_^
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