Against the Current - Chapter 60

Chapter 60 - Poetry Society (Part 6)

Xianglan came to a halt and knitted her brows slightly. Spending time alone with Lin Jinlou sounded like a rather precarious prospect, so she thought about making her way back with light steps, only to see Yindie walking over in the direction of Chunling. After Chunling exchanged a few words with her, she departed down another narrow path.

Yindie walked along with her head down for a few paces, then looked up to catch sight of Xianglan. She froze for an instant, a look of awkwardness crossing her face before she curled her lip, threw back her shoulders, and strode past Xianglan with an arrogant, haughty air. Glancing sideways through a thicket of branches, she caught sight of Lin Jinlou's figure inside the TaoRan Pavilion and instantly rooted her feet to the spot. She longed to hurry forward, yet seeing Xianglan standing nearby, she inwardly cursed Xianglan for lingering in such an inopportune place.

With her sharp eyes and quick wits, Xianglan immediately picked up on Yindie's intentions. She instantly clutched her stomach and groaned, "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, my stomach has suddenly started hurting. I must hurry to the privies." Doubling over and cradling her abdomen, she scurried off in a fluster.

Yindie shot a disdainful look at Xianglan's retreating back and muttered a soft curse under her breath, "Hasty ghost, rushing off to your reincarnation!" Straightening her clothes, she then walked toward Lin Jinlou.

After running a short distance, Xianglan glanced back and saw Yindie heading toward the pavilion. She quickly darted behind a cluster of bamboo stalks, thinking to herself, One person's poison is another person's honey. Yindie is eager to climb the social ladder, so I might as well grant you your wish. Deliberately concealing herself behind a rockery, she waited to see how things would unfold.

Meanwhile, Lin Jinlou was waiting for Xianglan to arrive when he suddenly heard a sweet, dainty voice from behind him say, "Greetings, Master. When did the Master return home, and why didn't you let any of us know? Sitting here in this pavilion right now with neither food nor drink—would you like some tea or perhaps some refreshments? Allow this maid to serve you."

He turned his head to find a maid of fifteen or sixteen years old with a delicate, oval face, a pair of watery eyes, and passable looks, her face heavily caked with cosmetics as she beamed with a flattering smile. He had seen far too many girls of this sort in the manor, so he paid her little mind and said, "Your service isn't needed here. Be on your way."

Having seized such a hard-earned opportunity, Yindie was by no means about to let Lin Jinlou dismiss her with a single sentence. Emboldened, she stepped forward and said, "The Master has just returned, how can we not have anyone to wait upon you? Shall I go bring a cup of tea? The small kitchen has a pot of piping-hot Tieguanyin with a wonderful aroma; just a moment ago, several of the mistresses drank it and could not stop praising it..."

Lin Jinlou glanced at Yindie and, noting the profound affection blatantly radiating from her eyes, immediately understood what was going on. At that moment, his heart was entirely set on waiting for Xianglan, so Yindie's persistence tried his patience, causing his expression to grow slightly dark.

Unfortunately, Yindie was utterly incapable of reading subtle expressions. Seeing that Lin Jinlou remained silent, she eagerly pressed closer. Remembering how she had previously wanted to tidy Lin Jinlou's clothes only to be caught by Chunling and subjected to a thorough scolding, she felt a burning resentment in her heart. Staring fixedly at the pouch hanging at Lin Jinlou's waist, she said, "Why is the Master's pouch crooked?" With that, she reached out as if to touch it.

Before her hand could even graze the edge of the pouch, a sharp crack echoed through the air as a heavy slap landed squarely across her cheek, leaving Yindie completely stunned. Her body listed to one side, and she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

With a face like frost, Lin Jinlou barked in a stern voice, "Scram!"

The shock was so great that Yindie didn't even dare to cry; scrambling and crawling in a panic, she fled out of the area as fast as she could.

Frowning, Lin Jinlou thought to herself, What does this fellow take me for? Does someone with a face and talent like that dare to throw herself at me? She certainly has a high opinion of herself. In all this time, I've taken very few maids into my personal quarters. As for the likes of Meimei and the others, firstly they possess striking looks, secondly they are skilled in string and wind instruments, and thirdly it happened to coincide with my desire to disgust Zhao; that was why I took them all in at once. There's no reason to drag just anyone into my chambers. The truth was that while Lin Jinlou was a man of romantic entanglements, his escapades mostly took place outside, and he maintained a fair degree of propriety within the household. He was an absolute connoisseur of beauty with extremely stringent standards. If a woman was truly striking and happened to catch his eye right when she was acting a bit spoiled or temperamental, he would find her cute and refreshing; but if she was anything short of an absolute beauty, even if she possessed some modest charm, he would feel nothing but revulsion and annoyance if he took a dislike to her, no matter how tender or attentive she tried to be to the nth degree.

At that very moment, Qinglan was walking over, supported by Chunling. It turned out that after parting ways with Yindie, Chunling had recalled a few matters she needed to instruct Yindie on. Upon turning back, she had witnessed Yindie scurrying over to fawn upon the Master. She had hurried back to the Gathering Green Lodge to quietly inform Qinglan, and the mistress and servant had immediately rushed over.

Having not seen Lin Jinlou for many days, Qinglan naturally missed him dearly. She hurried her steps, prompting Chunling to call out anxiously, "Yi Niang, slower, slower..."

With tears glistening in her eyes, Qinglan murmured, "Why didn't you send word when you came back? For the Master to sit here all by himself without a soul to wait on him, not even a cup of hot tea or water—how can this do?"

Lin Jinlou offered a faint smile. "I only just returned and came to sit by myself for a moment of peace." Suddenly recalling what Mother Wu had said earlier, he casually teased the thrush in the cage without changing his expression, and said, "I heard from Mother Wu that you completely stole the show today."

Lowering her head with a shy flush, Qinglan replied, "Look at what the Master is saying—what stealing the show or not? I am young and inexperienced, slow of speech and rather simple-minded; I owe it all entirely to Mother Wu's guidance."

Lin Jinlou let out an indifferent grunt.

Having gone through all the trouble of hosting the gathering, what Qinglan most desired was for Lin Jinlou to look upon her with special favor. Yet seeing him act so nonchalantly, she secretly worried she had been too modest, and quickly added, "Though I lack talent, this poetry society was still managed with some semblance of propriety. Mother, Second Mother, and several other friendly mistresses all praised how well it was run, but in my heart I know—what good management was there? It was simply the mistresses showing mercy and offering a few kind words to humor me."

She paused here, hoping to entice Lin Jinlou into offering some praise of his own, but to her surprise, Lin Jinlou didn't even twitch an eyebrow, continuing to whistle merrily as he teased the chattering thrush.

Feeling rather awkward, Qinglan forced a smile and continued, "Running a poetry society like this and keeping everyone from top to bottom satisfied is truly a difficult task. Among the mistresses hailing from grand aristocratic households, which one is easy to deal with? I was sweating bullets the entire time... Sister Meimei urged me to join in the fun and write a poem, but where would I get such talent? Yet since everyone repeatedly insisted that I compose one, I managed to cobble one together rather reluctantly... Ah, best not speak of it; it's quite laughable."

To her astonishment, Lin Jinlou actually showed some reaction upon hearing this. Turning his head to look at Qinglan, he asked, "You even wrote a poem? Let's hear it."

Qinglan hurriedly smiled and said, "It wasn't written well; I'm too ashamed to even say it myself."

Lin Jinlou said, "No matter. As long as it is penned in your own hand, I'd love to hear it." Though a smile lingered on his lips, a trace of coldness flickered deep within his eyes as he stared at Qinglan's face.

Qinglan shuddered inwardly, feeling as though her little calculations were entirely transparent before Lin Jinlou. She had witnessed this man's temper before; when he was gentle, his sweet words could melt your heart, but the moment his face darkened, it signaled the wrath of a thunderclap. She almost blurted out, "That poem wasn't written by me," but steadying her nerves, she managed to speak: "Since the Master would love to hear it, I shall make a fool of myself." Hesitating repeatedly, she recited in a soft voice: "Whose white jade orchid, left behind in the spring breeze? Guarding a solitary thread of fragrance, blurring the dreams of a transient life."

Lin Jinlou looked at Qinglan. "Did you really write this?"

Qinglan forced a smile and nodded.

Lin Jinlou uttered a mere three words: "Very nice."

Qinglan's face broke into an expression of immense relief as she let out a long breath, joy instantly lighting up her eyebrows.

Lin Jinlou closed his eyes, feeling a faint wave of disappointment. He had held Qinglan in higher regard for two reasons: first, because she was a proper concubine whom Madam Qin had personally consented to have wed into the family; and second, because while she wasn't particularly clever, she was gentle, considerate, honest, and kind-hearted, making her company relaxing and carefree. Who would have thought that while this girl wasn't inherently wicked, she harbored petty little thoughts and shallow calculations, proving herself to be narrow-minded after all?

The episodes with Yindie and Qinglan had thoroughly ruined Lin Jinlou's mood. No longer inclined to wait for Xianglan, he dropped the words, "I'm a bit fatigued and am going back to rest. You should tend to whatever you need to do," and walked away without looking back.

A look of worry crept across Chunling's face. "Yi Niang, I feel like the Master... doesn't look like he was in a happy mood..."

In disbelief, Qinglan asked, "Really? Didn't the Master just praise my poem?" Reflecting on it once more, she patted Chunling's arm and said, "The Master must be troubled by official business; we don't need to read too much into it."

Chunling wanted to say more, but seeing Qinglan's resolute expression, she swallowed her lingering doubts.