Against the Current - Chapter 250

Chapter 250 - The Study (Part 2)

The child was only five or six years old, with a round, dark little face, thick and bushy eyebrows, and a pair of phoenix eyes. He looked remarkably robust and sturdy, dressed in a bright auspicious-cloud tunic. Around his neck hung a longevity lock and a protective talisman, and on his feet were tiger-head shoes. His head was completely shaved except for a single tuft left right in the middle, styled into the shape of a peach. Bursting excitedly into the room, he froze the moment he caught sight of Xianglan, halting in his tracks as his face flushed a brilliant red. Overcome with shyness, he turned around and tried to bolt.

Shuran, however, chuckled, instantly catching the child by the arm. Bending down, she asked, "Where is young master De heading off to?"

Struggling to break free, the boy protested, "Let go, let go, I'm telling you! I didn't know there was someone else in this room."

Just as they were speaking, the wet nurse hurried inside. Catching sight of Xianglan and realizing she was a woman of considerable standing, the nurse hastened to apologize, pleading, "Our young master was abrupt. Please forgive him, my lady."

Xianglan was quick to reply, "It's nothing at all." With that, she glanced over at Shuran.

With a smile, Shuran explained, "This is the Marquis of Yongchang's youngest son, commonly called young master De." Turning to the wet nurse, she added, "This is the concubine from our master's chambers."

The wet nurse had long since heard that Lin Jinlou kept a favored concubine who was completely different from the rest, so she immediately recognized who Xianglan was. She hurried forward to pay her respects and tugged on young master De to make him bow as well.

Xianglan stepped forward to gently pat his little head, had him sit on the edge of the bed, and promptly instructed Shuran to mix a cup of fruit nectar and send for pastries and sweets. Young master De was initially somewhat reserved, but after eating a couple of pine-nut candies given to him by Xianglan, he quickly warmed up and reached out to grab a pastry from the table. Xianglan hurriedly stopped him, picked up a handkerchief to wipe his hands, and coaxed him with questions about his full name and age.

Young master De answered readily, "My name is Yuan Chengde, and I'm six years old." He stole a shy glance at Xianglan and continued, "My father said my name comes from the Book of Han, Treatise on Rites and Music: 'The imperial edict comforts and fosters the mentor; the military officer inherits virtue.' My father said that the year I was born, he was away fighting battles beyond the frontier, and my mother said that 'a military officer inheriting virtue' meant that a warrior who receives grace can be spared from military campaigns, so she gave me this name. And sure enough, my father came back safe and sound." He then picked up a pastry from in front of him, offered it toward Xianglan, and said, "Elder sister, you should eat some too." He also offered one to Shuran. Seeing that Xianglan's cup was empty, he straightened his back, stretched out his chubby little arms, and reached for the pot to pour more tea for Xianglan.

Xianglan could not help laughing. Seeing how wholesome, innocent, and sensible young master De was, she found herself growing quite fond of him, and the lingering sense of grievance in her belly finally dissipated. She pulled out her handkerchief to dab away the crumbs from the corners of his mouth and said with a smile, "Eat up, we have plenty more."

Young master De acted a bit bashful, but ultimately allowed Xianglan to wipe his face. Tipping his head, he muttered under his breath, "I'm a grown man already, I can wipe my own face..." He cast another stealthy glance at Xianglan and announced, "I'm going to find my father, I'll come back later!" Stuffing two more pieces of pastry into his mouth, he hopped down off the bed and skipped away.

Xianglan smiled and remarked, "This child is exceptionally honest and good-natured." Recalling what young master De had said about the origin of his name, she sighed and murmured, "Master Yuan and his late wife must have been truly devoted to one another."

Shuran was busy gathering up the melon seeds and pastries from the kang table onto a tray. Hearing this, she smiled and said, "The 'mother' young master De speaks of is actually not Master Yuan's primary wife; she was a kept mistress he maintained outside. I've heard she originally came from an illustrious scholarly family as well, extremely prominent until her entire clan fell under criminal charges, leaving no parents, brothers, or sisters behind. Because she was blessed with good looks, she was presented to the Yuan family and spent her time serving Master Yuan's aunt. Though she bore slave status, she lived in silk and satin and never suffered any real hardship. She was extraordinarily beautiful and gentle, and skilled in the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting alike. Later on, Master Yuan laid eyes on her and repeatedly begged to take her as his secondary wife. Naturally, his principal wife was jealous and blocked the marriage at every turn. Yet somehow, Master Yuan eventually managed to take Chengde's birth mother in, keeping her housed outside the main residence. For several years she remained childless, but a year after she finally gave birth to young master De, that woman closed her eyes and passed away—ah, truly someone with short-lived blessings."

With a heavy sense of melancholy, Xianglan murmured, "It's simply a pity for this child."

Shuran continued, "Master Yuan dotes on the boy immensely. Perhaps because he lost his birth mother at such a tender age, he draws even greater affection—he personally teaches him books, archery, and horsemanship, and frequently brings him along even when attending social engagements outside."

Xianglan said, "Young master De is indeed endearing, being so sensible at such a young age." Unconsciously, her thoughts drifted back to those phoenix eyes set in his round, dark little face—they looked precisely like those of her younger sister, Shen Jialian. In her past life, she and Jialian had looked remarkably alike, sharing the same temperament, with only their eyes setting them apart: she possessed almond-shaped eyes that bore a striking resemblance to their mother, while Jialian had a pair of phoenix eyes that were the spitting image of their father. Seeing this little boy bear that exact same pair of eyes filled her with an instinctive sense of warmth and familiarity.

Xianglan gazed out the window. Back when the Shen family met its ruin, Jialian was only ten years old and had been cast into the Ministry of Rites' music bureau alongside their mother, where both of them took their own lives that very night. By the time she received the news, her exile procession had just set off, and she had not even been permitted to perform memorial rites for them. Looking into young master De's eyes just moments ago, it felt as though Jialian had sprung back to life before her. Back then, her little sister had been just as obedient and sensible, trailing closely behind her—even imitating her hairstyles, hair ornaments, and manner of speech, and taking away the practice sheets she had written on to trace them herself, clinging to her like a tiny tail. Looking back now, those days truly seemed like a faint, indistinct dream, washing over her heart with every gust of wind and rain.

Seeing Xianglan sitting by herself and lost in deep thought, Shuran did not dare to disturb her. She light-footedly brewed a fresh bowl of tea, placed it down, and quietly withdrew, leaving the room in profound silence.

A short while later, the faint sound of murmuring drifted in from outside. With a creak, the door pushed open, and before long, Shuran returned carrying a bowl of medicine. Setting it down within arm's reach of Xianglan, she said, "My lady, it's time for your medicine."

Catching the heavy medicinal scent, Xianglan frowned and didn't make a move.

One look was all it took for Shuran to realize that Xianglan's stubborn streak had flared up again, and she couldn't help clicking her tongue inwardly. Earlier today, the master had carried this very woman straight back to his study in his arms, his left cheek bearing several bloody claw marks while half her own face remained swollen—it was obvious the two of them had locked horns and fought once more. Shuran felt a genuine sense of admiration for the woman before her; frail and delicate as she looked on the outside, where on earth did she find such immense resilience and grit deep down? The master was a tyrant whom only the old master could keep in check; who else, even among the mistresses, dared to cross him or act contrary to his will? Yet Xianglan repeatedly went out of her way to pluck the tiger's whiskers. Today, given the circumstances and how deeply aggrieved Xianglan undoubtedly felt, she was bound to refuse the medicine. Smiling, Shuran tried to coax her, saying, "It was just brewed, so drink it while it's hot. There's only a small bowl of it, and it'll be gone in a single gulp. If you let it sit, it'll only taste more bitter."

In a flat tone, Xianglan said, "You can go. I'll drink it later." Earlier, she had been coerced by the might of Lin Jinlou's authority, leaving her no choice but to drink the medicine. Now that they had already thrown blows and traded curses, and with God knows what kind of torment he still planned to inflict upon her, there was no point in drinking this stuff anymore.

Just as Shuran was fretting over what to do, a voice suddenly broke in: "You can leave."

Startled by the voice, both of them turned their heads to look, only to see that Lin Jinlou had walked in at some point unnoticed. Breathing a sigh of relief and thinking to herself that a place of peril was no spot to linger, Shuran didn't even bother serving tea, slipping away as fast as if she had oiled the soles of her feet.

Ignoring him entirely, Xianglan turned her head back to stare unblinkingly out the window. She felt Lin Jinlou sit down beside her, leaning his head closer and following her line of sight outside as he remarked, "Well now, let your master see—what on earth are you looking at so intently? Is there some rare foreign spectacle out there?"

Xianglan scooted further inward, but Lin Jinlou simply inched closer with her, chuckling, "Tsk, hurry up and drink your medicine. If you don't, and you wait for your master to take matters into his own hands, he's going to have to force-feed you."

Throwing Lin Jinlou a look of sheer disbelief, Xianglan saw him grinning back at her, flashing a mouthful of gleaming white teeth. Unwilling to listen to him chatter endlessly in her ear, she picked up the bowl and downed the medicine in a single gulp. She hadn't anticipated just how fiercely bitter the brew would be. Having suffered through a bout of drunkenness and with her head still throbbing dully, the harsh taste stirred up a fresh wave of misery in her stomach. Her complexion shifted drastically as she forced herself to swallow the liquid down. Her stomach churned violently, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, and she broke into a fit of coughing.

Hastily patting Xianglan on the back, Lin Jinlou clicked his tongue and chided, "Are you an absolute fool? If it feels that awful, why drink it all down instead of throwing it up? What's the point of torturing yourself like this?"

Swatting Lin Jinlou's hand away, Xianglan caught her breath, poured herself half a cup of warm water to rinse her mouth, and muttered in resentment, "Why, just at noon over at the Lu residence you looked like you wanted to tear me limb from limb, and now here you are acting as if nothing ever happened."

"Hey, hey, that's quite enough out of you. Everything's settled and done with now, are you really going to keep picking a fight?"

Finding herself entirely disinclined to humor him, Xianglan scooted further toward the inside of the bed, lay down with her back facing Lin Jinlou, and reached out to pull the quilt over herself. Lin Jinlou caught the edge of the blanket, refusing to let her pull it over. After tugging back and forth a few times without wresting it away, Xianglan simply gave up on the quilt entirely, curled her body into a tight ball, and shut her eyes.

Letting out a sudden snort of laughter, Lin Jinlou reached out to poke Xianglan's shoulder and chided, "Look at you, throwing a tantrum like a little child despite your age." He reached out again to grab her arm, adding, "Let your master see if your hand is getting better; it's time to change the bandage."

Utterly baffled as to why this fellow possessed skin thick enough to rival a city wall, Xianglan opened her eyes, looked up at Lin Jinlou with a half-smile, and retorted, "What is the great master doing lingering here? Don't you have plenty of matters outside to keep you busy? Even if you're hoping to watch me suffer and cry every single day, I'm exhausted right now, so I'm afraid I can't squeeze out any tears for you."

Tapping the tip of Xianglan's nose, Lin Jinlou laughed, "You ungrateful little wretch. Your master only wants to treat you well, yet you manage to twist every single intention into something malicious. You didn't miss a single harsh word of your own angry rant earlier, did you? Tsk, I must be a fool for ever acknowledging you."

Though Xianglan possessed the desperate, reckless grit of someone willing to break the pot just to watch the pieces fly, she still didn't dare genuinely push this tyrant too far. She pressed her lips tightly together, turned her face away toward the wall, and closed her eyes once more.

Folding his arms across his chest, Lin Jinlou remained silent, inspecting Xianglan up and down while stroking his chin with one hand. He thought to himself that little Xianglan truly was a beauty—every inch of her was fine and delicate. No wonder even a toddler like young master De had the eye to recognize her loveliness and praise her as an "immortal maiden sister." Stubborn as a mule though she might be, her character was genuinely exceptional. He knew very well that the women in his inner courtyard, as well as those mistresses he kept outside, were each craftier than monkeys, all scheming for their own benefits from him—whether for official status or silver—calculating against one another and capable of executing the most vicious, ruthless methods. Xianglan alone was different; through his cold-eyed observations, he had found that while this woman saw through everything with crystal clarity, she remarkably refused to scheme against others. Even when she was bullied, at worst she would rely on a sharp tongue and a righteous stance, completely devoid of any underhanded, dark-alley schemes. In particular, that utterly foolish streak of hers when it came to knowing gratitude and repaying kindness was almost endearing. He wasn't a fool either; he knew it made no sense to chase after a woman who refused to give him a pleasant expression, yet whenever he was with Xianglan, his heart felt genuinely grounded and at peace.