The hour was approaching noon, and the sun had grown rather fierce. Zhao Yuechan sat inside the palanquin with her eyes lightly closed, her earrings swaying gently with the motion. Suddenly, the palanquin halted, and Yingshuang approached the curtain, whispering, "Da Nǎinai, Da Nǎinai?"
Zhao Yuechan asked, "What is it?"
Yingshuang replied in a hushed tone, "Young Master Biao is standing in the alley up ahead. What would you like to do, Da Nǎinai?"
At these words, Zhao Yuechan immediately lifted the curtain and peered out. Not far away stood a young man—tall and slender, with an elegant, oblong face that appeared refined and delicate. He wore a golden tea-colored pongee straight gown, cinched at the waist with a silver-threaded belt adorned with pearl inlays, from which hung a multicolored mandarin duck tassel. In his hand, he twirled a folding fan, embodying the very picture of a frivolous, wealthy young gentleman. This was Qian Wenze, the son of Zhao Yuechan’s paternal aunt. In his childhood, his family had been relatively well-off, but their fortunes had gradually declined, leaving them with little more than an empty shell. Spoiled from a young age, Qian Wenze had grown accustomed to idle pursuits—cockfighting, dog racing, drinking, gambling, and womanizing. Yet, he was well-connected in the local underworld, earning him the nickname "Qian the Fair-Faced Bully."
Noticing Zhao Yuechan’s gaze, Qian Wenze offered an exaggerated, almost boneless bow.
Zhao Yuechan let out a soft "hmph," a smirk curling her lips as she dropped the curtain. "Tell him to come here," she instructed.
Yingshuang felt uneasy about this but dared not disobey. Frowning slightly, she approached Qian Wenze and said, "Our Da Nǎinai asks you to come over."
A smile played on Qian Wenze’s lips. "Thank you, Sister Yingshuang," he said, his handsome eyes sweeping over her face with an air of unmistakable affection.
Though Yingshuang held some aversion toward him, she found herself unable to resist the charm in his handsome gaze. Her tone softened as she remarked, "In broad daylight like this, Young Master Biao ought to exercise some discretion."
Qian Wenze pretended not to hear and strode to the side of Zhao Yuechan’s palanquin, where he bowed deeply. "Greetings, Da Nǎinai Lou!"
From inside the palanquin, Zhao Yuechan replied, "We’re all family here—no need for such formalities."
Sensing the situation, Yingshuang stepped aside with the palanquin bearers. Qian Wenze leaned closer, lowering his voice to a honeyed whisper. "Dear cousin Yuechan, it’s been days since I last saw you. I’ve missed you terribly." As he spoke, he reached to lift the curtain.
Inside, Zhao Yuechan pressed firmly on the curtain, her voice stern despite the smile in her tone. "Missed me? Don’t talk nonsense! Everyone knows you’ve been inseparable lately with Xigu from the Moon Sleeve Pavilion. And I heard you’ve just bought a new maid—tender as a spring onion—enjoying yourself to no end. How could you possibly remember me?"
Qian Wenze immediately raised his hands in protest, swearing by heaven and earth. "Where did you hear such lies? If I’ve ever been unfaithful to you, cousin, may I be struck by lightning and die a wretched death! Dear cousin, I’ve missed you so much—just let me see your face." He tried once more to lift the curtain.
Suddenly, a slender hand adorned with crimson nail polish shot out and tapped him sharply on the forehead. "Who would believe your nonsense?" Zhao Yuechan scolded, though her voice now carried a playful lilt.
Qian Wenze felt his bones melt at the sound. He edged even closer to the palanquin. "Why won’t you believe me? The task you entrusted to me—I’ve completed it perfectly. That set of hairpins has been sold, and I got five hundred taels for them. I’ve deposited all of it in the silver house. If you don’t believe me, send someone to check."
Zhao Yuechan’s heart leaped with joy. In an instant, she threw the curtain open. "Really? Only five hundred taels?"Qian Wenze gazed at that lovely face that could shift between delight and displeasure, his heart itching all the more. He chuckled, "Actually, it was five hundred and fifty taels. Consider the remaining fifty as buying me a drink." He thought to himself, "That hairpin was sold for a thousand taels. I ought to keep five hundred for myself, and use the rest to please a beauty—after all, a night at Moon Sleeve Pavilion would cost forty or fifty taels anyway."
Zhao Yuechan snorted, "Don't try to fool me. You know exactly how much you made. But since you gave me five hundred taels, at least you didn't cheat me too badly."
Qian Wenze cried out in protest, swearing oaths and calling her "dear sister" repeatedly. "I wouldn't dare lie to someone as sharp and clever as you, even if I had a hundred guts! Just last night I told my mother that after seeing all the great beauties under heaven, I've never found anyone like you. Those with flower-like faces and moon-like beauty are often foolish; those who are exceedingly clever rarely have good looks. It shows Heaven is fair—no one is perfect in every way. But you, sister, are Heaven's favorite—both talented and beautiful, handling everything with such competence. You've haunted my dreams all these years, this longing of mine knows no end..."
As he spoke, he leaned closer to Zhao Yuechan. Fortunately, the sedan chair blocked the view, so the bearers didn't see.
Zhao Yuechan's face broke into a smile upon hearing this. She had always loved sweet talk, and having received few kind looks in the Lin household, she was full of pent-up frustration. Qian Wenze knew how to be considerate and flatter, and his words soothed and pleased her. She tilted slightly toward the window, casting a charming, sidelong glance at him. "Shameless wretch! Discussing such things with your mother—aren't you afraid she'll break your legs and tear your mouth?"
Qian Wenze felt his entire body go weak with delight. Beaming, he lowered his voice, "My mother wouldn't beat me for that—she even agreed with me. Dear sister, we've long been as husband and wife. If not for your father's objections and you climbing to a higher branch, we would have..."
Zhao Yuechan's expression turned stern. "If you say another word about that, I'll be angry!"
Qian Wenze quickly waved his hands. "I won't, I won't! I'd rather die than upset you..."
Zhao Yuechan said, "You should go now, and I should return."
Qian Wenze pleaded, "How cruel you are, dear sister! Won't you stay a little longer?"
Zhao Yuechan peeked out, saw no one around, and whispered, "In broad daylight like this, any more talk will invite gossip! Go now. In a few days, that Lin fellow will be traveling again. Come to the small passageway west of the Lin residence in the evening then..."
Overjoyed, Qian Wenze exclaimed, "I'll definitely be there, rain or shine!" He seized Zhao Yuechan's hand resting by the curtain, rubbing it firmly a couple of times, then tugged the handkerchief she was holding from her grasp and stuffed it into his sleeve.
Zhao Yuechan shot him a reproachful look but wasn't angry—instead, she found it a playful flirtation. She let the sedan curtain fall. Qian Wenze then ordered the bearers to carry the sedan away.Once the sedan chair had gone far into the distance, Qian Wenze took the handkerchief from his sleeve and brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. A wave of perfumed fragrance rushed into his nostrils, sending a shiver through his body. Though he considered himself a seasoned playboy who had dallied with countless women, he felt none could compare to Zhao Yuechan in beauty and allure. He stuffed the handkerchief back into his sleeve, a cold smirk playing on his lips as he muttered to himself, "Lin Jinlou is a fool. Not only did he pick up my castoffs, but he also doesn’t know how to enjoy such a beautiful wife. How could a woman like her endure loneliness in her boudoir? It’s my gain, and he deserves to be a cuckold." The thought of the formidable Master Lin, such a domineering figure, wearing the horns of a cuckold because of him filled his heart with glee. Humming a tune, he sauntered away leisurely.
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