Soon the table where Qin Shi sat had finished eating. Quick-witted maids promptly brought copper basins for handwashing, cleared away the remnants, and reset the table with delicate tea and pastries. The noblewomen continued their lively conversation while the young ladies dispersed—some admiring flowers, others feeding fish, and some gathering in chattering groups.
Xianglan instructed Wu Mama to arrange for two matrons to set up a large padauk wood table in the courtyard, furnished with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. The poetry topics were then brought over. Everyone gathered around to look—the themes were predictably about singing of flowers and willows, all romantic and sentimental, yet perfectly suited to the tastes of young maidens. Each girl rubbed her hands in eager anticipation, ready to try her skill.
Lin Dongxiu was close friends with Lord Liu and Councilor Wen's two illegitimate daughters. The three feared that if they chose too late, only the difficult topics would remain, risking poor performance and embarrassment. They huddled together, whispering, then hastily selected their themes and spread out their papers to ponder.
Lin Dongling had never cared for reading and particularly disliked composing poetry. She was initially reluctant to participate. However, as her gaze swept the courtyard, she noticed all the young ladies holding brushes, carefully considering their topics. The few who weren't writing poems but chatting or doing needlework instead were either illegitimate daughters or those she looked down upon. Proud and haughty by nature, Lin Dongling naturally disdained associating with them. She realized that if she didn't produce a poem now, it would damage her reputation. So she randomly selected one.
She wrote the chosen theme on a piece of paper, then beckoned her personal maid Ying Luo and slipped the paper into her hand, whispering, "Go, take this to my third brother. Tell him to finish it quickly and bring it back to me." Understanding the task, Ying Luo hurried away.
Meanwhile, Lin Dongqi affectionately linked arms with Zheng Jingxian and pointed to one of the topics, saying softly, "This one, 'Late Spring,' is easy. Spring offers so many subjects—just emphasize the 'late' aspect, and anything can be written about. The challenge is avoiding clichés." She then pointed to another. "This 'Night Rain' is more restrictive, but if you capture the right mood, it could be cleverer."
Zheng Jingxian maintained a reserved and somewhat aloof demeanor. After scanning the topics from top to bottom, she scoffed and said to Lin Dongqi, "These themes are all vulgar. Only by making something trite feel fresh can one truly demonstrate skill." She then marked "Late Spring" with her brush.
Lin Dongqi's brow furrowed slightly in displeasure, though she didn't show it outwardly. She calmly selected "Night Rain" for herself, spread out her paper, and began writing.
Seeing Lin Dongqi rebuffed, Lin Dongxiu couldn't help but smirk. She edged closer to Zheng Jingxian and said, "Sister Jingxian, you're so talented. Even with a common theme, you'll surely write something original."
Zheng Jingxian glanced at her but didn't respond.
Lin Dongxiu flushed crimson in embarrassment. Fortunately, Song Tanchai stepped in to smooth things over. "Sister Xiu, you've already come up with two lines so quickly! I haven't even thought of one yet." Ever since Qin Shi had dashed Lin Dongqi's hopes regarding Song Ke, Lin Dongqi had grown distant toward Song Tanchai. In contrast, Lin Dongxiu had become increasingly friendly with her, and over time, the two had developed a genuine rapport.
This diversion shifted the conversation, and the young ladies buried themselves in composing poetry—all except Lin Dongling, who remained at leisure. One moment she watched her mother, Wang Shi, feed the fish; the next, she helped herself to pastries from the table or sipped warmed fruit wine.Now, on Qing Lan's side, Hua Mei was doing everything to persuade her to compose a poem. Naturally, Qing Lan refused, but when Hua Mei caught sight of Zhao Yuechan standing gracefully under the corridor, she whispered in Qing Lan's ear, "Sister, what are you afraid of? Even if it's not well done, could it possibly be worse than that ogress? She barely knows a few big characters—what use is all her scheming? You've already gained such prestige earlier. If you compose a good poem now, you'll immediately outshine that woman. Once word spreads, not only will our Taitai hold you in higher regard, but you'll also gain more respect when moving among noble households in the future."
These words struck a chord with Qing Lan. That's right—no matter how unskilled she was, she had still studied for a few days and was certainly better than Zhao Yuechan, who could barely recognize a few characters. If she composed one, even if it wasn't exceptional, it would still earn her enough face.
Seeing Qing Lan's expression shift dramatically, Hua Mei immediately sighed and said softly, "Sister, you're a blessed one, different from the likes of us in the end. I’m thinking of you in everything now, though I do have some selfish motives. I can tell at a glance that you're kind and generous. I only ask that when you rise to prominence and honor in the future, you won’t forget to look after me a little. I don’t ask for much—just a room in our Knowing Spring Pavilion would be enough..." As she spoke, tears glistened at the corners of her eyes, and she quickly lowered her head to wipe them away with a handkerchief.
Qing Lan grew even more convinced that Hua Mei was sincere. She hurriedly grasped Hua Mei’s hands and said, "What are you saying, little sister? You’re the senior here—I’ve just arrived, and it’s you who should guide me. We both serve the Master together, eat and sleep together, no different from real sisters. To speak of anything else would be treating me as an outsider."
Hua Mei nodded repeatedly and then spoke sweetly, coaxing her with all sorts of words. Qing Lan, thoroughly charmed, grew increasingly eager to make a splash and went up to compose a poem.
When Zhao Yuechan saw Qing Lan also stepping forward to pick a topic and write, she sneered, though a pang of bitterness gnawed at her heart. Nearby, she overheard Hua Mei speaking loudly to Ying Ge: "...Concubine Lan comes from a scholarly family—how could she be the same as us? If I had any learning in me, maybe I’d also pick a topic and write a poem to show off and bask in the glory."
Ying Ge scoffed, "Indeed, she’s different. The most different thing is her belly—worth a hundred times more gold than ours."
Their back-and-forth grated on Zhao Yuechan’s nerves. Pointing at them, she scolded, "What nonsense are you two chattering about?"
The two immediately fell silent.
Zhao Yuechan turned her head and glared at Qing Lan’s smug, triumphant face, gritting her teeth as she muttered under her breath, "You little wretch, go ahead and compose. Once you’ve had your fill, I’ll deal with you."
Hua Mei, having stirred trouble on both sides, now watched as Zhao Yuechan flared up, her cold eyes fixed on Qing Lan, and inwardly rejoiced.
Ying Ge also sensed something amiss and thought to herself, "That ogress is one who devours people without spitting out the bones, and Hua Mei is no easy lamp to light either. I’d better not get caught between them and end up as their pawn. It’s best not to linger in such a den of discord." Rubbing her temples, she said, "Ah, my head is aching again. Maybe it’s from drinking two extra cups of wine earlier and catching a chill. My heart’s pounding now—I should go back and lie down."
Zhao Yuechan waved her hand dismissively, and Ying Ge, leaning weakly on Ding Xiang, walked away.Now, let's talk about Qing Lan, who had also picked a topic and spread out her paper to write. However, her thoughts were sluggish, and having not read or written for a long time, her mind was blank. Seeing the incense on the table about to burn out and still having no draft, she noticed everyone else had already finished. Panicking, she quietly went to find Wu Mama.
Wu Mama had been busy for a long time and had just managed to take a break. She had set up another table under the corridor with a few prominent maids, picking out some good dishes and warming wine. They were eating and drinking merrily when Qing Lan approached. Wu Mama quickly stood up and scolded, "How come the concubine came over alone without anyone supporting her? Where are Yin Die and Xiao Juan? Just wait till I give those two little minxes a beating!"
Qing Lan lowered her voice and said, "Mama, never mind that now. Quickly help me—ask if anyone can compose a poem."
Seeing that Qing Lan was disturbing her meal for such a trivial matter, Wu Mama felt displeased. She thought to herself, "This old woman has been busy all day, and not a word of thanks, yet she interrupts my hot meal for something as small as writing a poem." Her expression darkened as she said, "Didn’t the concubine say there’d be no poetry today?"
Qing Lan urged anxiously, "I’ve changed my mind now. Mama, please help me think of something!"
Though Wu Mama grumbled inwardly, she couldn’t bear to see Qing Lan embarrassed. Reluctantly, she said, "Fine, I’ll try to find someone who can write." After some thought, she vaguely remembered that Xianglan was literate and might know how to compose poetry. With a resigned expression, she went to the tea room to find Xianglan and said, "The concubine has taken on another task—she wants a poem written. Take a look." She handed over the paper.
Xianglan unfolded it and saw two words written on it—"Lingering Fragrance."
Thank you, Qing Chenlove, for the peach blossom fan; thank you, Peach Blossom Fades, for the sachet; thank you, daxiang8911, Hua Xi Yue Xi, and Junxi812 for the Peace Talismans. Thank you all! Please leave comments, bookmark, and vote to support Xiao He~^_^ There will be another update later.
OpenNovel