Against the Current - Chapter 177

Chapter 177 - Companionship (Part 1)

As it turned out, Xianglan only stayed for a brief moment. She didn't even finish listening to a single opera before returning to her quarters, and for a while, all remained quiet. By the following morning, however, Meishu came over. Beaming with radiant good cheer, she greeted Xianglan cordially. Seeing her cutting garments on the large kang by the window, Meishu crowded closer to watch, covering her mouth as she chuckled, "My, the color of this fabric is dreadfully dull, and the material itself is so coarse. Whatever are you making this for?"

Xianglan replied, "My master's birthday is coming up in a few days. I'm making her a monastic robe simply to express a bit of filial piety."

Meishu seated herself and said, "I did hear that you used to live in a temple. What was life like in the temple? What did you study, and what scriptures did you chant? You must have learned how to read from your time in the temple, didn't you?"

Xianglan answered, "I merely learned to recognize a few characters from the scriptures."

Meishu continued, "I heard your father is now serving as a resident manager at a pawnshop. He must be doing quite well for himself, isn't he? I wonder how much his monthly stipend is. For a head manager like that, it has to be at least five or six liang of silver a month, am I right?"

Xianglan glanced at Meishu, kept her head down, and concentrated on her sewing as she said, "I wouldn't know. My father never discusses such matters with me."

Meishu smiled. "How could you possibly not know?" Seeing that Xianglan remained silent, she pressed on, "Where does your family live nowadays? How large is the courtyard?"

Xianglan replied, "We live in a rundown little house. It's of no great value and hardly worth mentioning."

Meishu thought to herself, I originally hoped to fish for some information from her, but she turns out to be someone who shakes her head and claims ignorance to every single question. When she subsequently brought up Lin Jinlou's daily routine, Xianglan simply let Chunling field the questions while she continued wielding her needle, refusing to offer a single extra word.

As it happened, Meishu possessed an immense amount of patience. After rambling on about various trivialities for a good long while, she finally took her leave. Chunling gnashed her teeth in frustration. "Our young mistress is too kind, letting that gossip-monger into the room like that. Does she not remember how Mistress Lan met her end? The moment she walked in, she started interrogating you about this and that—how utterly detestable!"

Xianglan smiled and said, "Let her ask away. Once she gets no response after a while, she'll stop asking."

By noon, after lunch had been served, Yingge arrived bearing two styles of needlework she had crafted herself. She first thanked Xianglan and then spent some time making idle chatter with her. Before leaving, Xianglan gifted her a set of floral templates along with a package of pastries. Knowing that Yingge had been struggling financially of late, she also handed her a few scraps of assorted silk and satin fabrics. Yingge departed, naturally offering a thousand expressions of gratitude.

Around dusk, Luan'er arrived. It was clear she had dressed with meticulous care: she wore a water-red damask tunic over a bean-green plain plum-blossom skirt, complemented by deep green mandarin-duck embroidered shoes. Her face was evenly powdered, and her hair was coiled into a neat, tight bun. Because a rift had formed between her and Luan'er, Xianglan was utterly disinclined to lower her pride to make small talk. The moment Luan'er entered the room, she offered a perfunctory nod by way of greeting, then sat stiffly in a chair with a taut, unsmiling expression.

Since Luan'er refused to speak, Xianglan was more than happy to enjoy the peace and quiet, continuing to bend over her sewing. Because of Shuran's standing, Chunling poured Luan'er a cup of tea and asked a couple of polite questions, but seeing that Luan'er still maintained her haughty, ice-cold demeanor, she scoffed inwardly and walked away, washing her hands of the matter.

The room suddenly fell quiet.

Luan'er had not visited these main chambers many times before. Looking around, she noticed the interior furnishings had changed yet again since her last visit: the curiosities on the multi-tiered display shelves had been replaced with even more exquisite and precious items, several calligraphy scrolls and paintings now hung upon the walls, and the curtains, seat cushions, bolster pillows, and chair covers were all lotus-pink—entirely replacing the heavy indigo, dark green, and other solemn hues that Lin Jinlou typically favored.

Sitting firmly on the kang, Xianglan plied her needle and thread with steady, unhurried precision, looking as though she belonged in these chambers by right, whereas Luan'er herself felt utterly superfluous. A deep sense of awkwardness washed over her. Thinking of her own small room—which, despite having its fair share of furniture and adornments, could hardly hold a candle to this place—her heart twisted with vexation.

Xianglan cast a few furtive glances at Luan'er, noting how she sat as if on pins and needles. Every now and then she shifted her posture, picked up her teacup to take a sip, and several times made to stand up and leave, only to force herself to sit back down and endure it.

Xianglan raised her head to massage her sore neck, prompting Xiaojuan to lay down her work and refill her teacup. Xianglan took a sip. Her quarters had certainly been lively today. Luan'er had come first thing, though merely to test the waters and probe for background information, staying for a full three hours; Yingge had made a dedicated trip to express her gratitude, lingering for no more than the time it took to drink a cup of tea before leaving; and now Luan'er had returned, stubbornly hunkering down to wait for Lin Jinlou's return.

Xianglan sighed inwardly. Luan'er was, after all, merely a young girl ignorant of the ways of the world. With her arrogant pride and fiery temper, had she ever suffered such cold indifference in the past, she would likely have flown into a towering rage. Yet now she was enduring it stoically, sitting here dressed to the nines simply to wait for a man who didn't even hold her in his thoughts—it was actually rather pitiable.

Just as she was musing on this, she saw the door curtain part. Lin Jinlou strode into the room, complaining loudly of thirst, and collapsed straight onto the kang the moment he crossed the threshold. Xianglan hurriedly put away her half-finished garment while Chunling scrambled to pour him tea. Luan'er sprang to her feet in a rush, eagerly preparing to step forward and offer her greetings. To her shock, Lin Jinlou didn't even look in her direction; instead, he reached out to pick up the monastic cap Xianglan had been making, toyed with it for a moment, and exclaimed, "My, what on earth is this gadget? What are you making here?"

This was the first time Lin Jinlou had spoken to her in a friendly manner in all these days. Xianglan cast a sidelong glance at him, noticing a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as if he were riding high on success. Realizing he must have received some good news outside, she answered, "My master's birthday is coming up soon, so I'm making her a monastic robe."

Lin Jinlou frowned, tossed the cap right into Xianglan's lap, and muttered, "Oh, so you actually know how to cut and sew this sort of junk. Ever since you got here, you haven't even made me a single pouch; I honestly thought you didn't know how." With that, he pulled Xianglan's hand into his palm, stroked it, and chuckled, "Make your lord a little trinket tomorrow, and I'll reward you later." As he spoke, he leaned in close, intending to kiss her.

Xianglan felt thoroughly ill at ease. She couldn't wrap her head around how a man who had acted like a thundercloud-faced Yama just yesterday could today sit here smiling and bantering with her as if none of those events had ever transpired. Raising her eyes, she caught sight of Luan'er standing off to the side with a face as pale as paper. A sudden flush of embarrassment swept over her, and she hurriedly pushed Lin Jinlou away, stammering, "I—I need to go inside and get something," before scurrying off like a wisp of smoke.

Displeased, Lin Jinlou turned his head and, upon spotting Luan'er still standing there, asked with genuine perplexity, "What are you doing here?"

Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Luan'er stuttered and failed to cobble together a coherent reply.

Chunling, keeping watch near the outer entrance, hurriedly stepped inside and chimed in, "Mistress Xianglan invited Luan'er over to keep her company and dispel her boredom..."

Lin Jinlou nodded. Turning back to Luan'er, he remarked, "If Xianglan tells you to come, then come. She's got such a taciturn, brooding personality anyway; having someone around to chat with her is good, keeps her from bottling things up and falling ill from vexation, always locking horns with me."

These words made Luan'er's face turn dead white, which immediately flushed into a furious crimson. Stifled between going up or backing down, she stood frozen, not knowing whether she ought to respond or keep silent. Bitterness welled up inside her, and hot tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

Lin Jinlou downed a cup of tea, then called Chunling over, instructing, "Have the kitchens prepare some warming dishes for tonight. That noodle dish from yesterday was quite good, have them make it again today, and the osmanthus cake as well—go steam a fresh batch."

Receiving her orders, Chunling immediately dispatched a young errand boy to convey the menu.

Lin Jinlou finished another cup of tea, glanced sideways, and seeing that Luan'er was still rooted to the spot, asked in bewilderment, "Why aren't you leaving yet?"