Against the Current - Chapter 322

Chapter 322 - Presenting the Paintings (Part 2)

Lin Jinlou's eyelids twitched, and he offered a flattering smile. "Speaking of Recluse Lanxiang..." He personally poured a cup of tea for Lin Zhaoxiang and chuckled, "Xianglan always talks about you, and you can't imagine how much she admires you, Elder. She says your calligraphy and painting are the absolute pinnacle of the art. She specifically painted these two pieces and asked me to bring them so that you could appraise them, Grandfather. She begged me to bring them along, saying that even a sliver of guidance from you would be her greatest fortune in three lifetimes." With that, he pulled the paintings out of their scroll tubes and handed them up.

Lin Zhaoxiang gave Lin Jinlou a sidelong glance and scoffed through his nose, "Don't bother flattering me with smooth words. My eyes aren't blind—is she the kind of person who would say something like that?" With a flick of his hand, he landed a knock on the back of Lin Jinlou's head, gritting his teeth as he said, "You lose your wits the moment you lay eyes on a woman! Your entire life has suffered because of this weakness for beauty, yet you refuse to mend your ways. How many times have you stumbled over women, you good-for-nothing wretch!" The more he spoke, the angrier he grew, bringing his cane down to strike Lin Jinlou's leg.

Lin Jinlou felt a burning pain in his leg, and as he reached up to rub the back of his head, he felt deeply humiliated and lost face. His mouth tasted bitter; traditionally, he was always the one giving orders and punishing others, but this time he was being lectured like a mere grandson. Then, second-guessing himself, he realized he actually was this person's grandson, so there was nothing shameful about it anyway. Deciding to take it as acting childishly to amuse his elder, he smiled and said, "Grandfather, please don't fly into a rage. Don't damage your health over this..." He placed the paintings on a nearby small side table and moved to massage the old man's shoulders.

With a dark expression, Lin Zhaoxiang let out a cold snort, pushed Lin Jinlou's hands away, and reached out to pick up the paintings. He first unfurled the Portrait of Guanyin and looked it over once, set it aside, and then picked up the Riverbank on a Snowy Night. Lin Jinlou stole a glance and noticed that while Lin Zhaoxiang's face had been gloomy at first, it gradually turned solemn. When he saw the poem inscribed in the upper right corner of the painting, he looked somewhat surprised and deeply moved, before sinking into contemplation once more. Lin Jinlou had rushed over in a hurry and hadn't examined the poem on the painting closely, so he stretched out his neck, wanting to see it clearly. However, Lin Zhaoxiang had already rolled the painting back up, set it aside, picked up his teacup to take a sip, and remained silent.

Lin Jinlou's heart fluttered anxiously, and he held his breath, not daring to make a sound.

After a long while, Lin Zhaoxiang set his teacup down on the table, gave a cough, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed a stack of play scripts right in front of Lin Jinlou. "Those scripts for The Biography of Recluse Lanxiang have already spread through every single wine shop and teahouse outside. Explain yourself—what was the meaning of this?"

"What could your grandson possibly mean... They're just some bored literati who heard that Recluse Lanxiang is my concubine and treated it as casual gossip, concocting the whole thing over tea."

"Still trying to play clever with your own ancestor?" Lin Zhaoxiang picked up the topmost booklet, flipped through a page at random, and pointed to several lines: "'All youth and dreams are spent yet fade away in vain, pure sorrow rises high and cannot be restrained'; 'Waste not the boundless hours of spring's sweet light, the moon shines bright just like that former night, quietly illuming Xie family's light'; 'On mandarin duck pillows we speak of lovesickness, you must pity me and pity yourself.' Though these are all rich and flamboyant poetic verses, their style is refined and the conception quite clever. They are certainly not things ordinary bored literati or impoverished scholars could cook up."

Lin Jinlou glanced at his grandfather. Their eyes met, and Lin Jinlou hurriedly piled on a smile, acting as if he didn't understand. Lin Zhaoxiang couldn't help recalling when Lin Jinlou was a child; whenever he played truant and forgot his homework, he would put on this exact foolish, blank expression whenever he couldn't answer. Feeling both exasperated and amused, he tossed the play script right into Lin Jinlou's lap, his face sinking as he said, "Enough, enough, stop pretending. Hongxun already confessed everything. You spent a massive sum of silver to have him find some talented scholars from the Hanlin Academy—men with brilliant literary skills and romantic flair—to write those scripts for you. Hmph! You really outdid yourself, having your own brother-in-law pull off such a stunt."

Lin Jinlou had long since figured that he probably couldn't keep it hidden. Hearing this, he immediately shifted with the wind and said, "I was just thinking... after a few people died in the family previously, Second Uncle and I—cough. Nowadays, the Lin family draws too much attention. People meet us with all smiles and greet us with New Year pleasantries, but the moment they turn their backs, who knows how viciously they talk behind our hands. As for this Xianglan, she is wonderful in every single way and even saved my life. If word of this spreads, it brings glory to the Lin family too, doesn't it? It helps cover up all those other rotten scandals."

Lin Zhaoxiang lifted his eyelids. "Is that why you did it? Still trying to play clever. You'd better state your true intentions clearly right now."

Hearing this, Lin Jinlou looked at Lin Zhaoxiang's expression and weighed his options in his heart. His temperament and disposition were most like Lin Zhaoxiang's. Later on, as his grandfather grew older and weathered the tides of officialdom, he had tucked all his sharp edges deep inside his heart, yet his old blade remained un-blunted, causing Lin Jinlou quite a bit of apprehension. Putting himself in his grandfather's shoes, he felt it was better to simply tell the truth—though how to tell it required careful consideration. After pondering for a long while, he raised his head to see Lin Zhaoxiang gazing at him with piercing eyes. The words rolled around his throat twice before his expression softened entirely, and he said in a low voice, "Grandfather, by the time I've lived to my current age, the beauties I've seen are as numerous as carp crossing a river, but she alone is different from all the rest... I truly cherish her deeply, from the very bottom of my heart."

Lin Zhaoxiang stared at Lin Jinlou for a moment, then let out a scoff. "How old are you?"

"...Twenty-nine."

"Hmph, so you do realize you've already reached the age of thirty and are no longer some wet-behind-the-ears boy. What do you mean by 'from the very bottom of my heart'? I used to think you were merely fond of fighting and competing, and though your temper was sometimes fierce, you were still worthy of being polished. I never imagined you'd put on such a childish, romantic display now—I'm embarrassed for you!"

Lin Jinlou lowered his head and kept silent.

"Are you speaking, or have you turned mute?"

Lin Jinlou raised his head, his eye rims actually somewhat red. Lin Zhaoxiang was taken aback as he heard Lin Jinlou say in a low voice, "Grandfather, every word I've said is true. You see, when I go out and fight for my life to earn a future for this family, all I want when I come back to my rooms is to have such a considerate person by my side. Keeping watch with her makes me feel cool, untroubled, and completely at ease in my heart. It even makes me feel like I don't need to build a great career, or bring glory to our clan, or reach the highest ministerial ranks, or possess overwhelming wealth. Just having that is enough to satisfy me, and I've actually lost some of my grand ambition, feeling that living like this is wonderful."

Lin Zhaoxiang never expected that his eldest grandson, who usually bantered and joked with him and acted tyrannically and viciously outside, would ever say such things to him. This grandson was the one he loved and valued most, the one he had raised and educated with his own hands. Now, seeing his eldest grandson's shoulders slump in such a pitiful posture—even though he knew this brat was putting on a sob story for his benefit—his heart softened all the same. He gave a slight cough and said, "She is already a person belonging to your rooms, and everyone in the household respects her. Nobody asked you to chase her out."

Lin Jinlou said, "Ah, Grandfather, you see how she can write and paint, and how she carried out such magnanimous and grand deeds. That alone tells you she isn't an ordinary woman; how could her thoughts ever be like those of run-of-the-mill females? She... well, to put it simply, I'm afraid of wronging her, too..."

Hearing this, Lin Zhaoxiang narrowed his eyes, scrutinized Lin Jinlou's face carefully twice, and slowly said, "What kind of notion are you driving at, exactly?"

Lin Jinlou clenched his fists, and just as he was about to speak, Geng Tonggui's voice came from the doorway: "Reporting to the Old Master, the Second Master has arrived."

Lin Zhaoxiang immediately darkened his face and said, "Let him enter." Then, turning to Lin Jinlou, he added, "I have matters to discuss with your second uncle. You go on for now, and come back later."

Lin Jinlou had no choice but to agree. As he walked out, he happened to run into Lin Changming. Lin Changming's hair was secured with a gold hairpin bearing the character for 'Longevity' (Shou), and he wore a sapphire-blue plain-weave silver-threaded straight robe, cinched at the waist with an indigo gold-woven sash, which made his slightly dark, round face look a bit more spirited than usual. Lin Jinlou immediately bowed in salute, bending his waist slightly as he said, "Greetings, Second Uncle."

Lin Changming was startled, then smiled and said, "Oh, you're here. Paying your respects to the Old Master?"

Lin Jinlou smiled and nodded.

Lin Changming waved a hand. "Go on, go on, tend to your business."

"This nephew takes his leave."

Lin Changming smacked his lips, gazing at Lin Jinlou's retreating back with a mixture of envy and yearning. This nephew whom he had watched grow up was someone he now felt a certain awe toward, and even had a mind to cozy up to—a thought that made him thoroughly uncomfortable.

Now for the other side of the story. Back with Xianglan, Guiyuan had delivered a set of play scripts titled The Biography of Recluse Lanxiang. Xianglan sat by the window, flipping through them one by one, and saw that the diction was magnificent and the style elegant. It detailed everything from her childhood as a slave, encountering a vicious master, saving her father by becoming a concubine, protecting her master in the temple, right down to that snowy night by the river—all compiled into twelve theatrical acts. Within them, truth and falsehood were intertwined; many raw truths were glossed over, while various incidents were embellished and dramatized. Especially in Lin Jinlou's case, he was magically transformed from a licentious and tyrannical master into a deeply infatuated lover, and the two of them appeared like a pair of devoted mandarin ducks deeply in love. Had it been earlier, Xianglan would certainly have found such a distorted script both laughable and exasperating. But now, she merely closed the book silently, hugged the scripts to her chest, and reached out to push the window open, propping it ajar with a stone lion ornament. The wind poured howling into the room, still carrying a crisp, biting chill. Xianglan looked at the newly budding peach blossoms in the courtyard and took a deep breath, feeling a myriad of swirling emotions rise to the tip of her heart.

Just at that moment, Lin Jinlou returned. Hearing the movement, Xianglan hurriedly covered the play scripts with a greenish-blue sleeveless jacket. Lin Jinlou, however, seemed somewhat dispirited and didn't notice her little gesture; upon entering, he sat down on the imperial concubine couch and zoned out.

He understood that all major and minor matters in the household were decided by the Old Master alone. Given his current status and position, he could originally afford to act without looking at his grandfather's face, and he had even considered simply making the executive decision himself. But upon second thought, the old man was still an elder after all, and Xianglan would still have to live in the Lin family in the future. If he didn't give that towering Buddha any respect, Xianglan's days ahead would likely be fraught with difficulty and unhappiness at home. Although Xianglan was warmer toward him now than before, the two of them still seemed awkward with each other, keeping him constantly anxious and fearful of loss. Considering that he used to be the supreme leader of the pleasure quarters, renowned for playing amidst flowers and willows, he never would have imagined that he himself would fall victim to a lovesick ailment over a woman.

Originally, he had figured that if he ever married again in the future, his bride would undoubtedly be a lady from a prominent family with a powerful maternal clan, somewhat better-looking than ordinary women, treating him as supreme, virtuous, and benevolent, simply managing the household affairs properly, honoring his parents, raising his children, respecting Xianglan without harboring jealousy or malice, and living out their lives in mutual respect as husband and wife. But now he understood completely. Having returned from walking through the jaws of death, he would rather wrong himself than ever wrong Xianglan and make her live a bitter life again. As long as the two of them could be together in the future, enduring long and peacefully, nothing else mattered. Thinking of this, he felt invigorated and spirited, as if he were about to head into battle against an army, facing a sea of blades and a mountain of flames without an ounce of fear.

Xianglan stepped forward to pour a cup of tea for Lin Jinlou and couldn't help asking, "What's wrong with you?" Lin Jinlou snapped back to his senses, turned his head to look at Xianglan, and suddenly burst into a smile. Today, he was wearing a yellowish-tan brocade python-patterned robe inlaid with blue patterns, cinched with a gold-woven sash and a piece of emerald jade pendant, his hair bound with a jade hairpin. He looked exceptionally dashing and handsome, yet carried that touch of lazy, effortless elegance characteristic of wealthy young masters. He reached out, pulled her right before him, and smiled as he looked at her for a long while before saying, "Just put your mind at ease. I am doing very well. With me here, the two of us will both live wonderful lives."