Lin Jinlou woke from a muddled sleep, disoriented about the time of day. He sat up for a long while, still feeling trapped in an absurd and bizarre dream. Outside, lanterns had already been lit, casting the room into dim shadows. As he turned his neck, his eyes fell upon the letter from Xianglan that he had tossed onto the heated brick bed. His face immediately darkened. He got off the bed to pour tea, only to find the teapot empty—not a drop of water remained. His irritation grew. With a loud "bang," he hurled the teapot to the floor.
Shuangxi, who had been standing guard outside, quickly peeked in upon hearing the noise, only to be met with Lin Jinlou's roar: "Where is everyone? Huh? One by one, you can't find anyone—where the hell have they all gone? What's the use of keeping such useless people?"
Shuangxi inwardly groaned and hurried forward. "Master, you're awake—" Before he could finish, a tea bowl came flying at him. Lin Jinlou bellowed, "Get out! Get out of here, now!" Shuangxi scurried away like a dog with its tail between its legs.
Lin Jinlou sat down, panting heavily, feeling a pain that started from his head and pierced straight through to his heart—as if ten thousand blades were drilling into him. Just then, he heard a tapping sound from behind the screen by the door. Irritated and ready to vent, he looked up and saw Yuan Shaoren step out from behind it. Yuan smiled faintly at him, holding a teapot in his hand. As he poured tea for Lin Jinlou, he said, "What's with all the anger, huh? With a temper like that, you'd scare anyone to death. Who wouldn't run from you?"
The remark struck a nerve, and Lin Jinlou slumped, his expression turning vicious. "Go find someplace cool to hang out. Don't block the way here. I don't want to see anyone today."
Yuan Shaoren paid no mind. Their friendship was one forged through life and death, long-standing and deeply understanding. He stepped forward and clapped Lin Jinlou on the shoulder. "What? Can't find her, so you take it out on me? Biting people like a mad dog." As he spoke, he noticed a letter on the bed and reached to pick it up. Lin Jinlou lunged forward to snatch it back, shouting, "Put that down!" But Yuan had already skimmed through it in an instant. He let Lin Jinlou grab it back and couldn't help but chuckle. "So that's it. Karma's a bitch, no wonder you've changed your tune. Look what it says here—'never once smiled.' Tsk, tsk. What? Regret not treating her better back then?"
"Get out! Who told you to come to my house? Get lost!"
"Fine, I'll leave after one last word. Right now, so many people are out searching for her. For miles around the Temple of the Medicine King, even every blade of grass has been turned over, and nothing's been found. What happens next is up to you."
Lin Jinlou remained silent, his face grim. He picked up the bowl, drained the tea in one gulp, and slammed it heavily on the table.
"Come on, I know you too well. You're not really going to stop looking, are you?"
Lin Jinlou said nothing, feeling the blood surge within him again, his heart aching until it went numb. He had always been the type to hide a broken arm in his sleeve and swallow his teeth with blood—never one to complain. But this agony was something he couldn't suppress. He couldn't help but mutter, "She's too heartless—" then choked up, unable to continue.
Yuan Shaoren's expression also darkened slightly. He patted Lin Jinlou's shoulder and said, "Maybe she was just too afraid. She's not some naive girl who thinks love alone can fill her stomach. She's far too clear-headed."
Lin Jinlou shot him a glance. "You understand? So the love expert is here, huh?""How much blood and tears have been shed to bring us here." Yuan Shaoren lowered his head, lost in thought about someone, before sighing wistfully after a long moment: "Eagle Soar, it's fortunate it was her. Had anyone else endured these trials, who knows what kind of person they might have become." Having said this, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, adding: "Between brothers, let's skip the formalities. I'll lend you a hand and send my men to search too." With that, he departed.
Lin Jinlou continued dispatching his subordinates to search for her, yet amidst the vast sea of humanity, she remained utterly elusive. Assuming Xianglan would surely return home to visit her parents, he discreetly sent investigators to check, but she never appeared. Whenever Chen Wanquan mentioned Xianglan, his eyes would crinkle into slits, his face creasing with joyful wrinkles: "My daughter is currently in the capital with General Lin—have you heard of The Legend of Lanxiang Jushi ? That opera sings of my daughter's deeds—ah, what soaring success! My daughter possesses unwavering loyalty and courage. Not to boast, but throughout history, few virtuous women could compare to her..."
Though she remained missing, life trudged onward day by day. Lin Jinlou felt an emptiness in his days, returning to cold, silent rooms. For the first month, the sight of Xianglan's abandoned handkerchiefs, clothes, fans, sachets, books she'd read, and paintings she'd created would stir anguish and fury within him, leading him to smash countless objects. Terrified, Shuran and others quietly gathered all of Xianglan's belongings, replacing even the beddings and curtains with new ones. When Lin Jinlou returned and stood dazed in his room for a long while, Xiao Juan timidly entered to serve tea. As she withdrew, she heard him say: "Put her things back. At least they carry some trace of life." Stunned, Xiao Juan mumbled an acknowledgment and hastily retreated.
No one dared mention "Xianglan," not even Qin Shi, who tread carefully, watching her eldest son's expression and occasionally complaining to Wang Shi: "Tell me, did I commit some sin in a past life? Lou Ge'er mopes around all day looking half-dead—why must he torment me so?"
Though Lin Changmin lay severely injured in bed, Wang Shi appeared more spirited than before, adorned with a newly crafted gold headdress. She consoled Qin Shi: "He's pining for her—how could he possibly smile? When I miss our Ling Jie'er, I weep in the dead of night. Lou Ge'er, being a man, naturally isn't like us, but surely his heart weeps too?"
Did Lin Jinlou's heart ache? He knew he ought to stand firm as a pillar, that at his age he shouldn't be so entangled by another. Especially when countless mouths in the Lin Family Army depended on him. He forced himself to rally, resuming his vigorous demeanor, yet he felt as if his entire being had turned to wood—every social interaction became an act. Only when he returned to his room, utterly alone, did he realize how exhausted he was, tormented by agony that threatened to suffocate him. Yet in the depths of night, Chen Xianglan's image still flooded his vision. He should have returned to Jinling long ago, but he lingered in the capital solely to find this one person. He even began to feel his tricks were exhausted—no matter how many men he dispatched or how high the reward he offered, there remained no trace of her. At times, a chilling fear gripped him: could that woman already be dead? But with no body found alive or dead, how could he give up hope?
Chu Dapeng, having achieved the rank of Successful Candidate in the Imperial Examinations, was about to take an official post in Jiangsu and Zhejiang. He specially hosted a banquet and personally poured wine for Lin Jinlou, smiling: "I'll soon be serving in your territory, brother. I beg you to grant me some favor and watch over me."
Lin Jinlou smiled faintly, raising his cup in response: "We're all brothers here—no need for such formality."After downing a cup of wine, Liu Xiaochuan leaned forward with a sly grin and said, "Brother Lou, the girls accompanying the banquet tonight are all the most popular in the capital. Care to take a look?"
Lin Jinlou lifted his eyelids and glanced around. Four beauties, each with plump or slender figures, all possessing apricot-blossom cheeks and peach-like complexions, were strikingly beautiful. Sitting there, he pondered firmly: Why bother? That heartless woman had left him—why should he care whether she lived or died? Better to live each day joyfully and freely, as he had done before. Besides, the beauties before him were all delicate and charming, radiant and brilliant, knowing exactly how to please. Why should he deny himself?
As he was lost in thought, Xie Yu, perceptive as ever, stepped forward and pulled over a girl who had been playing the zither, seating her beside Lin Jinlou. With a smile, he said, "Brother, this is Mei Wu, newly arrived. Since childhood, she’s been taught by several masters—versed in the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, classics, histories, and philosophy. There’s nothing she doesn’t excel in. Let her accompany you, but be gentle, brother. Don’t frighten her." He then gestured lightly at Mei Wu and added, "Serve him well."
Lin Jinlou half-squinted as he examined her. She had willow-leaf eyebrows like mist and skin as smooth as jade, dressed in a silver-threaded gauze blouse and a crimson silk skirt embroidered with gold thread, truly a peerless beauty. Mei Wu, beaming with joy, raised a cup of wine with her delicate hands and said softly, "Master Lin, let Mei Wu offer you a drink first."
Lin Jinlou stared at her for a long moment before finally drinking the wine in his hand. The banquet continued with toasts and cups clinking, and Lin Jinlou accepted every offer without refusal. By the time he was half-drunk, the others signaled for Mei Wu to help him retire to the back. Once they reached the doorway, the night breeze sobered him up considerably. Mei Wu, supporting him with one hand, smiled and said, "Master, the chamber is this way—"
Before she could finish, Lin Jinlou pushed her away and staggered outside, calling for his horse, then rode off alone. He had suddenly grown weary. What was once a place of pleasure had now become unbearable to him. It was all just a performance—greeting and sending off, putting on an act. These women, as lovely as flowers, calculated every smile and frown to win favor. They spoke of tender affections, feigned coquettishness or gentle understanding, all while wearing false expressions and pretending joy. Xianglan had never been like that. That foolish girl always offered her sincere heart, allowing others to take advantage without minding. Her smile alone could warm his heart. Remembering this felt like a heavy weight pressing on his chest, as if knives were slicing through his heart. The resentment he felt was like a blunt blade cutting into his flesh, bringing him to the brink of despair. Yet, even as he pulled himself out of self-pity, he couldn’t help but think of her. A voice inside him kept urging her to return. If only she would come back, he wouldn’t ask any questions—just having her by his side would be enough.The days passed by imperceptibly. Lin Jinlou stood inside the room gazing out the window, where he saw crimson leaves fluttering on the treetops and the courtyard blanketed with yellow blossoms. He had been so frantically busy lately that he hadn't realized summer had already passed, and deep autumn had arrived in the blink of an eye. Several maidservants were dragging brooms to sweep the courtyard, unaware of Lin Jinlou's watching eyes. They chatted and laughed merrily, with one humming a tune - upon closer listening, it was actually an aria from "The Legend of Lanxiang Jushi." Since the Empress Dowager had shed tears upon hearing this opera, and Aunt Xia had fervently praised Xianglan's virtue and righteousness while hinting at Lin Jinlou's willingness to marry her, the Empress Dowager had summoned Chen Xianglan to the palace. However, the Lin Family claimed Xianglan's whereabouts were unknown, presumably because she knew her humble status made her unworthy of the Lin family's standing, and thus she had left without saying goodbye. The noble ladies in the palace all sighed with regret upon hearing this, frequently requesting performances of this particular opera - not because the melody was particularly exquisite, but because the story originated from their own dynasty and was so strangely convoluted.
Shuran entered quietly to refill the tea. As she was leaving, her eyes caught sight of the leather sachet hanging from Lin Jinlou's waist. She remembered it was the first sachet Xianglan had made for him, now so worn that its tassels had gone bald, yet he still refused to replace it. Shuran recalled Hua Shan's whispered words: "The Master keeps the unfinished socks Xianglan was making by his bedside," she had said in a hushed voice, "Is he waiting for his lady to return and finish them?" Shuran had scolded her: "Don't gossip about our master's affairs." Yet in her heart, she couldn't help but feel moved. During this period, their Master appeared to have regained his composure, but she never would have expected that such a formerly unrestrained and romantic man could actually experience lovesickness.
OpenNovel