Huamei grew increasingly puzzled. She hurried around the artificial mountain and saw two maids burning a pile of clothes. One had a square face with small eyes and a tall, plump figure—it was Huairui, who had previously served Cao Lihuan. The other was thin and petite—it was Yingluo, a maid from Madam Wang’s quarters.
Yingluo stood far away, covering her face with a handkerchief. Huairui crouched nearby, her mouth and nose wrapped with cloth, using fire tongs to pick up garments and throw them into the fire.
Huamei hurriedly asked, “Why are you burning perfectly good clothes? Who allowed you to burn them here? What if the fire spreads?”
Yingluo, who originally didn’t want to respond to Huamei, finally answered after several questions: “Hanfang from Third Young Lady’s room went home to visit family two days ago. When she returned, she had a fever. The doctor diagnosed her with smallpox—it’s terrible, she’s just waiting to die. Our Lady gave some silver and had her moved to an empty room. Only a servant who’s had smallpox before is looking after her. We were ordered to burn all her clothes. Third Young Lady thought burning them in the courtyard would be too inauspicious, and burning them outside the second gate might infect people, so we brought them to the garden to burn them clean.” She repeatedly urged Huairui, “Hurry up! Get it done quickly, the Lady is waiting for our report!”
Huairui remained silent, her face dark with displeasure. Since Cao Lihuan’s departure, she had relied on her parents’ status to serve under Lin Dongying. Unlike Cao Lihuan, Lin Dongying, having been raised in luxury, didn’t care about the status of servants’ parents and showed no favoritism. Huairui, who was used to being lazy and crafty, had angered Lin Dongying several times and was relegated to doing rough work outside. Today’s task of burning clothes was a matter of life and death, and Huairui, harboring resentment and anger, simply threw all the remaining clothes into the fire basin, nearly extinguishing the flames. This provoked Yingluo to stomp her feet and curse, “Are you trying to get us killed? What if it goes out? We’ll have to start over, and in this small space, we might get infected ourselves!”
Upon hearing about the smallpox, Zhicao fled in terror, calling from behind the rocks, “Miss Huamei, don’t stay here, let’s go back quickly!”
Huamei responded verbally while taking two steps back. As she was about to circle the artificial mountain, her eyes caught sight of an embroidered handkerchief on the ground in an inconspicuous spot, with the character “Fang” embroidered in the corner—presumably fallen from the pile of clothes. A poisonous plan formed in Huamei’s mind. She quietly picked up a tree branch and, when no one was looking, hooked the handkerchief, turned around, took out a silk pouch from her clothes, emptied its contents, and used the branch to place the handkerchief inside. Holding the string, she acted naturally and returned to Zhichun Hall.
Upon entering the room, Huamei stuffed the bundle behind a small table in the corner. Despite her deep thoughts and composure, having such a deadly item hidden in the room made her heart race uncontrollably. She took a deep breath and sat down. When anxious and restless, she always liked having Xique make her a pearl tea, but Xique had long been sold away. She couldn’t order Zhicao around, so she had to get off the bed herself and retrieve a small porcelain jar with landscape paintings from the cabinet. Opening it, she found it empty of tea leaves. Since Lin Jinlou had spurned her, her regular monthly supplies had been cut off, and her meals consisted of poor-quality items. If she hadn’t spent money to arrange better food, how could her pampered palate, accustomed to luxury, handle such coarse rice and mushy dishes? She had previously sought help from her family, secretly sending messages through Zhicao, but it was like throwing stones into the sea. Her brother Du Bin, who used to frequently visit the Lin family, had now disappeared entirely as if treating her as dead. Trapped in the mansion with her every move watched, she couldn’t execute any of her hundred schemes. Now that she was at her wit’s end, should she take that final step?
Huamei stared at the corner, her expression inscrutable.
To skip the idle talk:
At dusk, when Lin Jinlou returned home, he entered Zhichun Hall and saw a woman wearing a light purple cloak embroidered with wintersweet flowers standing beneath the banana tree, her figure and silhouette similar to Xianglan’s. Lin Jinlou approached and said, “Why are you standing in the wind?” as he reached to embrace her waist.
The woman turned around—it was Huamei. Lin Jinlou startled, released his hand, and frowned slightly: “Why is it you?”
Huamei also appeared greatly shocked and hurriedly said, “I was in pain this morning, probably from getting cold last night. I didn’t go to kneel in the ancestral hall this morning, but now I’m feeling better and was about to go…” She lowered her head halfway, turned her face aside, and spoke plaintively: “I remember Master’s punishment and dare not forget it for even a moment… These days I’ve lost my appetite, thinking of my mistakes makes me feel so ashamed of Master’s love that I wish I were dead…” Her willow eyebrows furrowed with worry, her bright eyes filled with emotion, creating a particular kind of beauty. She took out a jade pendant from her sleeve and offered it, saying, “This jade was given by Master… I made a cord for it with my hair, representing my yearning for Master and my determination to reform…”
Lin Jinlou looked and indeed saw a white jade pendant with magpies on plum branches in Huamei’s fair hands, strung with a five-colored auspicious cord. He gave it a cold glance and turned to leave.
Seeing this, Huamei quickly knelt on the ground and cried sorrowfully, “Master, I truly know my mistakes!” With a “thud,” she knocked her head on the blue brick.
Lin Jinlou stopped but didn’t turn around, calling out loudly, “Where is everyone? Where have they all gone?”
The old woman watching over Huamei had been secretly observing from behind a pillar. Hearing Lin Jinlou’s call, she had to force a smile and run over, asking, “What are Master’s orders?”
Lin Jinlou said, “If she’s caught a cold, move her out tonight. Don’t let the illness spread—it’s almost New Year’s, we don’t need such bad luck!”
The old woman nodded repeatedly, “Yes, yes.”
Lin Jinlou strode toward the main room.
Huamei felt a “boom” in her ears. She had already hit her head hard earlier, seeing stars, and now felt even more dizzy and disoriented. Her eyes became vacant, and after swaying twice while kneeling, she collapsed to the ground.
The old woman hurried forward to pull her up, seeing Huamei’s eyes staring blankly, as if dead. Pinching and twisting her brought no response. The old woman shook her head, saying, “Amitabha, what a sin, what a sin… Huamei, you, you must keep your heart open…” After mumbling a few words, she saw Huamei still staring straight ahead without responding. The old woman became somewhat nervous—she had taken Huamei’s silver and turned a blind eye to let her wait in the courtyard for Lin Jinlou’s return. Now she feared getting into trouble, so she quickly pulled Huamei up and hurriedly pushed her back to her room.
Huamei sat on the kang bed, completely unaware even as the sky turned completely dark.
Although Lin Jinlou had ordered her confined and made her kneel in the ancestral hall daily, she still held onto a glimmer of hope—after all, he hadn’t driven her away like Luan’er, had he? Moreover, among the women in Lin Jinlou’s back courtyard, she had once been the most favored, even Zhao Yuechan had to give her some face. How could she willingly leave like this? After a month or two, Lin Jinlou’s anger should subside. If she dressed up beautifully and humbly admitted her mistakes with soft words, perhaps there might still be a chance. It was this thought that had sustained her until now, making her dress up elegantly every day to remind herself of her former glory.
But today’s result was unexpected.
Huamei felt her heart slowly turning cold, a chill seeping through her entire body, even her bones feeling like ice, making her shiver uncontrollably.
The door creaked open, and Zhicao entered carrying a food box. She stumbled over a stool she hadn’t seen in front, nearly falling, and couldn’t help complaining, “Aiya, why is it so dark in here? I almost fell! If I had dropped the food box, you’d have nothing to eat tonight.” While grumbling, she fumbled to put down the food box and light the oil lamp.
Huamei stared at that point of light, took a deep breath, sat up straight, and arranged her hair with both hands.
Zhicao laid out the dishes from the food box on the table. The two dishes had long lost their heat, and the steamed buns were hard. Zhicao placed the chopsticks in front of Huamei and said with a smirk, “Miss, please eat.” She had already heard the maids and servants gossip about how Huamei had failed to seduce the master today and lost face again. Some maids had taunted her, saying, “Oh, Zhicao, you’ve moved up in the world now, serving Concubine Mei. You’re different from us who fetch water and sweep floors! Living the high life, aren’t you!” Zhicao spat and replied, “Stop mocking me with that! Concubine Mei? What is Concubine Mei? A fallen phoenix isn’t worth a chicken, let alone a quail. If she didn’t know her place, I wouldn’t even glance at her!” She had deliberately delayed bringing the meal, and seeing the formerly high and mighty concubine in such a state now, Zhicao somehow felt a surge of satisfaction.
However, Huamei didn’t eat. She stared at Zhicao for a long while, then suddenly smiled warmly and beckoned, “Zhicao, come here.” She had her sit on the kang bed and took out a five-tael silver ingot from a box, holding it before her eyes, saying, “I have a favor to ask of you. If you do it well, this silver is yours.”
Zhicao reached for the silver, but Huamei withdrew her hand.
Zhicao licked her lips and said, “What is it? Want to send a message home, or have the kitchen add some dishes? Just tell me, Miss.”
Huamei sighed and said, “I had a dream last night. I dreamed that the God of the Year told me my fortune this year was unfavorable. He gave me a pot of orchids and said someone with dark intentions would harm me, but if I threw one of my used handkerchiefs into her room, all would be well. When I woke up, I realized—that God gave me orchids, isn’t that pointing to Xianglan? Good sister, the master has confined me, I can’t go anywhere except to kneel in the ancestral hall. I must trouble you to do this for me…”
Hearing this, Zhicao waved her hands repeatedly, “No, no! How could I enter the main room? I wouldn’t even reach the door before those sisters inside would tear me apart, let alone throw in any handkerchief! My lady, have you lost your mind, having such dreams!”
Huamei pleaded earnestly, “I know this is difficult, otherwise why would I offer you five taels of silver? Just throw the handkerchief through the window, that’s all. I’ll watch from here—as long as you get it inside, anywhere will do, I’ll give you an additional pair of exquisite silver hairpins, how about that?”
Zhicao was most greedy for money and couldn’t help being tempted, thinking to herself that it was just a handkerchief, nothing important, and if successful, she’d get all these things, worth more than her yearly allowance. So she readily agreed. Huamei couldn’t help but laugh coldly, grinding her teeth, “Lin Jinlou, you treasure Chen Xianglan so much? I’ll have her die! And take your life along with it!”
Early the next morning, Huamei indeed gave Zhicao a silk pouch. Zhicao opened it and saw there was truly just an embroidered handkerchief inside. She took the pouch and quietly walked to the main room’s entrance, but seeing people constantly passing by, feared she couldn’t succeed. Turning around, she saw Huamei still watching from afar, so she made an excuse to go behind the house and casually threw the pouch on the ground.
Unexpectedly, Zidai came face to face with her and asked, “Why throw perfectly good things on the ground?”
Zhicao had been frustrated with having no one to gossip with, and upon meeting Zidai, told the story of Huamei’s dream as a joke, adding, “She’s not ordinary—last time she dared to use talismans to curse the master. Who knows what tricks this handkerchief might have? If it’s discovered, wouldn’t I be the one in trouble? I pitied her and pretended to help throw the handkerchief, but who’d do it for her?” Then she left.
But these words stirred Zidai’s thoughts. She thought to herself, “Zhicao has a point. Who knows what mischief Huamei is up to? It must be aimed at Xianglan…” While thinking this, she picked up the pouch and secretly threw it through the back window.
That morning, Xiaojuan was sorting through Xianglan’s chests, taking out rarely worn clothes from the bottom. Xianglan said, “If they’re not often worn, just give them away. Pick out some good ones for Yingge—her father is still sick, and money is flowing like water. This year, to save money, she’s not planning to make any new clothes except the two sets provided by the mansion. With everyone in the Lin family having such discerning eyes, I’m afraid it will be hard for her.”
Xiaojuan smiled, “Miss is just soft-hearted.”
Xianglan sighed, “She lives a difficult life and is an honest person. Lending a hand is like accumulating virtue for myself.” Neither of them noticed the silk pouch thrown through the window, landing among the sorted clothes. Soon after, Yingge came over and took several new clothes, expressing countless thanks to Xianglan. Her little maid Dingxiang saw the silk pouch among the clothes, found it exquisitely made, and couldn’t help but like it, so she secretly put it in her sleeve and took it away.
That day in the morning, Huamei reported to Lin Jinlou, packed up her belongings, and left the Lin family.
A few days later, the smallpox in the Lin mansion became increasingly severe. The second branch of the family fared better, only having to move out one maid, but in Zhichun Hall, several people fell ill one after another. First, Dingxiang had a high fever, followed by Yingge and Zhicao. Madam Qin was greatly alarmed and quickly sent Lin Jinyuan to stay with familiar relatives. She also ordered all those who had contracted smallpox to be moved to the back shelter rooms.
Lin Dongying said to Madam Wang, “I originally said our family wouldn’t be peaceful at year’s end. For Elder Uncle’s Wife’s birthday, we should have done like last year—gone to the temple to perform rituals, stayed for two days, and observed a vegetarian diet. But you all wouldn’t listen to me. Now look what’s happened—we must go out and pray properly, especially to the Smallpox Goddess at Qixia Temple.”
Madam Wang discussed this with Madam Qin. Madam Qin sighed, “I had the same thought. Originally, since we had two happy events to busy ourselves with, we didn’t make much of the birthday celebration and just let it be. Who knew our family would encounter such a distressing matter? We should indeed go to the temple to pray. Let’s choose an auspicious day in the next couple of days and set out.”