Against the Current - Chapter 73
Chapter 73 - Seeds of Disaster
Lin Jinlou escorted Xianglan back to the east wing. Huamei had already departed, and Qinglan was taking a nap in her room. Hearing that Lin Jinlou had arrived, she hurriedly had Chunling support her as she came out to greet him. Lin Jinlou, however, did not even spare Qinglan a glance, pointing solely at Xianglan as he instructed the maids and older women, "She hasn't eaten lunch yet. Shuran will bring some food over shortly, and you all are to prepare a bowl of soup like the one she usually enjoys."
Qinglan's face turned pale once more, and Chunling quickly steadied her. Raising her eyelids, Xianglan saw a long line of people standing in the room, every single one of them wearing an expression of astonishment and complicated emotion. Too weary to care about what others might be thinking, she simply lowered her head and remained silent.
Turning around, Lin Jinlou pinched Xianglan's cheek and said, "Just stay here for a couple of days; your master has his own arrangements." With that, he began walking out. Noticing that Qinglan was standing right in the doorway, he paused his steps and said, "Take good care of your health. If you lack anything, speak to the eldest young madam; if she doesn't respond, come find me. Don't go troubling Madam over every little thing. It's hot nowadays, and Madam hasn't been feeling well either. To exhaust her like that would only show a lack of filial piety on my part as a son."
Xianglan understood the implication perfectly: Lin Jinlou's words were clearly a reprimand toward Qinglan for stirring up trouble and dragging Madam Qin into it as well. By declaring himself "unfilial" while laying this heavy accusation squarely on Qinglan's head, he was shifting the blame entirely onto her.
Though brimming with grievance and unable to voice it, Qinglan offered a slight curtsy and murmured, "I understand."
Pointing at Xianglan once more, Lin Jinlou added, "This lass is delicate; don't assign her any more chores." Having said this, he lifted the doorway curtain and strode away.
Silence descended upon the room for a moment. Silently, Xianglan turned and returned to her room, burying her face in her bedding. Before long, Shuran actually arrived in person carrying a red-lacquered food box filled with several exquisite side dishes and a bowl of jade-rice, and followed it up with warm expressions of concern and inquiries into her well-being.
Not long after, the news spread throughout the entire Lin household that the eldest master had taken a fancy to a new maid, and that Xianglan of the Chunzhi Quarters had climbed a high branch and was about to soar to prosperity.
As it happened, that very night Lin Jinlou received an order from his superior commanding him to lead troops to suppress roving bandits creating disturbances in a neighboring province. Consequently, Lin Jinlou rushed back to the military barracks overnight—a piece of news that brought Xianglan a quiet sense of relief.
The following day, the Chunzhi Quarters remained as tranquil as ever. Zhao Yuechan spent half the day kneeling in the ancestral hall before going to Madam Qin's quarters to weep and beat her chest in grievance; Qinglan also copied the Classic of Filial Piety for Women ten times. Upon returning from Madam Qin's main rooms, Mother Wu sat in Qinglan's room for half a day, the two of them whispering back and forth about goodness knows what. When Mother Wu finally emerged, the rims of Qinglan's eyes were slightly red, but her complexion appeared much improved. The entire affair was thus lightly and painlessly brushed aside.
Only Xianglan's position in the eyes of everyone else grew delicate; people kept their distance from her with respectful wariness, and even Xiaojuan became much more formal when speaking to her. Xianglan spent the whole day sitting on her bed in a daze. She thought about seeking out Song Ke once more, but remembering the words Lin Jinlou had spoken that day—which suggested he cared little for the Song family—she lost her nerve. She was well aware of the Lin family's foundations and feared implicating Song Ke as a result. Hesitating back and forth, she gritted her teeth and thought: If Lin Jinlou comes again, I will force his hand with my death. If he isn't made of stone, he ought to leave a person a path to survive... May the Bodhisattva protect me and allow me to escape this fiery pit as soon as possible.
After offering a silent prayer, she fetched a few well-worn booklets, repasted them with indigo-blue covers, and gathered her writing brush, inkstone, and paper to head out alone to the garden's pavilion to copy Buddhist scriptures and calm her mind. On one hand, she knew well that she must not lose her composure, and copying sutras was the ideal way to center herself; on the other hand, it could serve as a prayer for good fortune regarding her future prospects.
Several days passed in this manner. On this particular day, Xianglan brewed a teapot of tea, brought her writing supplies along, and slowly copied for a while amidst the birdsong and fragrant flora of the garden, dabbing at the fine beads of perspiration on her brow with a handkerchief. Suddenly, she realized that summer had arrived, the spring blossoms had long since faded, and the scenery was now defined by dense, vibrant green shades.
After admiring the view for a moment, her spirits lifted somewhat, and she caught sight of Chunling supporting Qinglan as they walked over from not far away. Knowing that Qinglan felt uneasy around her, Xianglan hurriedly packed up her writing supplies to avoid them.
To her surprise, Qinglan instead walked up to meet her, smiling as she said, "I wondered who I saw in the distance over here; it turns out to be you."
Taken aback, Xianglan felt a secret surge of wonder: Mistress Lan usually ignores me completely; why has she changed her tune today? She smiled back and said, "Seeing that the scenery here is lovely, I came over to copy some scriptures."
Stretching out a hand, Qinglan took the booklet from Xianglan's hands to flip through it. Upon seeing that the pages contained a bold, free-flowing running script with strong, vigorous strokes quite unlike the handwriting of a young girl, she exclaimed in astonishment, "You write such a fine hand!"
Hastening to retrieve the booklet, Xianglan said, "It's just scribbled casually, don't soil the mistress's eyes."
Pulling the booklet back, Qinglan smiled and said, "What a coincidence; I've also been wanting to copy some scriptures lately to accumulate virtue for the child in my belly. Since younger sister writes such wonderful characters, lend me these copied scriptures to use." Her true intent lay elsewhere than the books; claiming she wanted to borrow the copied sutras was merely a pretext to smooth over the awkwardness between them.
As it turned out, Mother Wu had offered Qinglan some advice: If it weren't for the mourning period of the old matriarch, and given how heavy the mistress's pregnancy is, the eldest master would have long since added someone new to his quarters. If there were no Xianglan, there would simply be someone else; why should the mistress make herself miserable over this? By now the eldest young madam has put on a virtuous and magnanimous front—if the mistress continues to harbor resentment, it will look quite unseemly. If gossiping tongues among the meddlers were to follow suit and anger the eldest master, it would be no trifling matter. The mistress should learn from Huamei to greet people with a smiling face. After all, Xianglan did serve you for a time; turning into enemies in the end is hardly a good outcome. Although Qinglan still felt aggrieved in her heart, she had ultimately taken those words to heart, and over the past few days, the knot in her heart had loosened somewhat. Thus, encountering Xianglan here, she took the initiative to extend goodwill.
With no other choice, Xianglan agreed, retrieving a volume of scriptures she had already finished copying and handing it over to Qinglan.
At that moment, Chunling stepped forward and said, "Mistress, it looks like the wind is picking up and the weather is about to turn. Let's head back before we continue talking."
Glancing up, Qinglan indeed noticed several clusters of dark clouds drifting across the sky, threatening rain. She nodded, handed the booklet back to Chunling to hold, and let the maid support her as they turned back. Carefully packing the remaining Buddhist scripture booklets into her pouch, Xianglan collected her teacup and writing tools, poured the leftover tea from the teapot into the flower bed, and—carrying the pouch and teapot in one hand, holding a few volumes of Buddhist scriptures in the other, and tucking a semi-old silver-red gold-python-patterned seat cushion under her arm—hurriedly chased after Qinglan and her maid.
Unexpectedly, along the garden path, someone came running hurriedly from ahead. Chunling failed to dodge in time, and the two collided head-on. With a startled "Ah!", Chunling feared she might bump into Qinglan, so she threw her weight toward Xianglan instead, causing the booklet in her hand to drop to the ground. Slipping underfoot, Xianglan tumbled to the ground right alongside her. Scrambling to protect the teapot with her hand to keep it from shattering, Xianglan watched as her Buddhist scriptures and the seat cushion tucked under her arm scattered in all directions with a clatter. The person who had collided with them also tumbled to the ground with an "Ouch!", dropping the books she had been holding. Scrambling back up, she glared fiercely at Chunling and snapped, "Are you courting death running like this? In such a rush, are you heading back to mourn a funeral?" With that, she snatched up two of the fallen booklets from the ground, clambered to her feet, and sprinted away.
Recognizing the person she had collided with as Yingshuang, a maid from the senior branch, Xianglan silently cursed her bad luck. Chunling, however, sprang straight to her feet and pointed at Yingshuang's retreating back, shouting, "You little wretched minx! If you had bumped into the mistress, see if you'd still have your head!" She added indignantly, "I'm going to report this to Madam!"
Qinglan quickly advised, "Alright, alright, don't bicker with the eldest young madam's people. Quickly gather our things and let's head home."
Muttering complaints under her breath, Chunling set about gathering the books scattered on the ground.
Since it was a clash between the main household and the favorite concubine, Xianglan naturally refrained from putting her oar in. Silently collecting her things, she accompanied Qinglan back to their quarters, temporarily leaving the matter aside.
Returning to the east wing, Chunling arranged the teapot and writing instruments one by one. Reclining languidly on the bed while sipping tea, Qinglan instructed, "Bring those scriptures over here for me to look at."
Chunling protested, "Mistress, are you really going to copy such tiresome nonsense?"
Sighing, Qinglan replied, "I might as well copy a few strokes just to pass the time; nowadays, only the Bodhisattva understands my misery." Taking the booklet into her hands to flip through it, she opened it only to discover that it did not contain the Buddhist scriptures copied by Xianglan at all. Instead, the pages were covered with entries like "Issuing Loans," "Interest," and "Collecting Yields," alongside annotations such as "One Thousand Taels" and "Three Hundred Taels." Stunned, she quickly snapped the booklet shut and asked Chunling in alarm, "This isn't Xianglan's volume of scriptures—was the wrong one handed over?"
Chunling took the booklet back and flipped through it, but being illiterate, she could make nothing of it. Handing it back to Qinglan, she explained, "When we ran into Yingshuang just now, the three of us collided and everything in our hands dropped. I remember Yingshuang was holding a pair of these exact indigo-blue booklets too. We must have grabbed the wrong ones in the panic and confusion. Shall I take it back and swap it?"
A sharp pang echoed in Qinglan's chest. After pondering in silence for a long moment, she said, "No need. Go outside, don't let anyone else in, and don't mention this matter to a single soul. If people from the senior branch come asking about it, just say you know nothing." Obediently, Chunling withdrew.
Qinglan reopened the booklet and flipped through it page by page. Having a slight grasp of bookkeeping and accounting, she skimmed through the entries roughly, and the more she read, the more alarmed she became. At the back of this ledger are Zhao Yuechan's official seal and fingerprint, confirming beyond doubt that this ledger belongs to her. The sums of silver recorded within are astronomical; a rough tally amounts to seven or eight thousand taels. Her father was originally merely a sixth-rank judicial official and was only promoted to Inspector of Jinling last year—how could her dowry possibly include such a vast sum of silver? Furthermore, the eldest master never lets her handle his funds either. When I went to pay my respects to Madam these past few times, I overheard Hongjie and the others gossiping that Zhao Yuechan was embezzling and skimming public funds, leaving behind a massive deficit with no one knowing where the money went. So this was how she was using it—to run high-interest loan operations! What colossal audacity!
Clutching the account book, Qinglan felt as though it burned her hands, and her mind raced: What should I do now? The eldest master is away—should I hand this ledger over to Madam? Then another thought arose: That would never do. The eldest master has told me on several occasions that once the mourning period for the old matriarch is over, if Zhao Yuechan is sensible, he will provide her with a generous sum of silver and separate by mutual agreement; if she is uncooperative, he will simply hand her a formal letter of divorce. When the eldest master previously hinted at this intention to the master and madam, he received a thorough scolding. Last time, Madam even told me, "I know Zhao is somewhat harsh, but she was brought in through the front doors with a proper matchmaker. The Zhao family is flourishing right now, and Brother Lou's father-in-law currently enjoys the imperial court's favor. Since Zhao Yuechan has committed no major transgression, divorcing a wife would inevitably cause enmity between our two clans, entangling vast interests and human networks while tarnishing the Lin family's reputation. We cannot act rashly. This wife was married solely due to his reckless stubbornness; how can he now cause an even greater catastrophe by demanding a divorce out of that same stubbornness? You should counsel Brother Lou more often in daily life." If this ledger were handed over to Madam, Madam would at most shut her doors and scold her behind closed doors to settle the matter. Even if Zhao Yuechan engaged in usury, Madam would still cover it up for the sake of the Lin family's reputation—after all, the Lin family has wealth to spare; what are a mere seven or eight thousand taels in their eyes? But... but if this ledger is handed to the eldest master... The eldest master already detests Zhao Yuechan; stirred to anger by this, he might write out a letter of divorce on the spot. And once I give birth to a son...
Placing her right hand over her protruding belly, Qinglan bit her lip and thought: I was personally selected by Madam and brought in through a proper household registry to serve as a concubine. The eldest master showers me with boundless love and affection, and even Huamei said that the last time Madam was angry with me, she was merely angry at me for overstepping rules, not because she disliked me. If I truly bear a son and the eldest master divorces Zhao Yuechan, he will surely elevate me to principal wife, and Madam will naturally be overjoyed as well.