Lin Dongwan smiled at Xiang Lan: “I was just wanting to talk with you, but lost sight of you for a moment. The feast is about to begin, come with me.” She led Xiang Lan inside. The opera had ended, and servant girls were carrying in large serving boxes. The tea, pastries, fruits, and snacks had been cleared from the tables, and replaced with bowls, plates, and spoons. The maids brought out two plates of cold dishes from the boxes, while older servants offered hot towels for hands, everything proceeding in an orderly fashion.
Several tables were set in the hall. Xiang Lan sat at her original corner table. At the front, Old Madam Lu had already raised her cup in a toast, everyone’s faces beaming with joy as they exchanged auspicious words amid a chorus of happy voices and laughter.
To Xiang Lan, the crowd’s clamor seemed distant. After venting her anger at Zhao Yuechan, her earlier satisfaction gradually faded, leaving an emptiness in her heart. She mechanically raised her cup to drink with others, the food tasteless as wax. She poured and drank alone – though she’d never been fond of alcohol before, now with her heart heavy, she clung to the wine pot, drinking cup after cup.
She gazed around with tipsy eyes at the noble ladies in their gold, silver, and fine silks. Thinking of all the familiar faces she’d encountered today: Song Ke, prosperous; Zheng Jingxian, living happily with her beloved husband and cherished son; Zhao Yuechan, remarried well and living grandly; and Lin Jinlou, wielding great power, commanding respect, enjoying wealth and beautiful company. Even Xiao Juan lived carefree as a servant. Everyone seemed to be living amidst flowers and brocade, while she alone struggled in uncertainty, as if standing alone in a grey fog, unsure where to go. She knew most clearly that she couldn’t spend her life as a concubine in the Lin household, but had no one to help her or show her the way forward. Lin Jinlou kept her under strict watch, and she had aging parents to consider. She could only endure, persevere, and wait for her opportunity, making the days feel endless with no end in sight.
Xiang Lan drank cup after cup, thinking of the ancient saying “One drink can solve a thousand worries.” Perhaps drinking herself into oblivion would help her forget all her dissatisfactions. Right now, she didn’t want to think about anything, only seeking momentary relief.
Suddenly, a hand reached from behind and stopped her drinking hand. Lin Dongwan said with concern: “My goodness, how much have you had? Your face is so red.”
Already quite drunk, Xiang Lan just giggled at Lin Dongwan: “I’m not drunk, I’m quite clear-headed.” She reached for more wine.
Lin Dongwan quickly stopped her: “This won’t do. If my brother were here, I wouldn’t mind how much you drink, but he entrusted you to my care. If you get drunk and cause trouble, I’ll be dragged down too – you know his temper.” She smiled and took Xiang Lan’s cup, handing it to Qiuye, then coaxed her: “Come with me, I’ll find you a place to rest, have some sobering soup. It’s unbecoming to be so drunk, isn’t it?” She signaled to Qiuye and Xiao Juan, who helped Xiang Lan up.
They left the hall and entered the garden, passing through a rock archway and around a low wall to reach a secluded spot. Surrounded by emerald bamboo stood a building with one main room and two side rooms. Above the door hung a plaque reading “Dew Drop Pavilion.” Lin Dongwan pushed open the door, explaining: “This used to be the eldest young lady’s quarters, but it’s been empty since she married. The servants keep it clean. With so many people at Shuiliu Yun, this is the quietest spot. Dear sister, have some tea to sober up – the maid will bring medicine shortly.”
Xiao Juan asked: “What medicine?”
Lin Dongwan smiled: “Brother specially sent his servant to remind me that Xiang Lan needs to take medicine twice daily without fail.” She led them into the pavilion.
The room was spotlessly clean with minimal furnishings. Though furniture remained, all ornaments were gone, save for a pair of vases on the main hall’s long table holding feather dusters and peacock plumes.
After settling Xiang Lan, Lin Dongwan left, leaving only a young maid to attend. Xiao Juan sent the maid to fetch sobering soup from the kitchen and to boil water for tea. At the height of her intoxication, Xiang Lan refused to rest in bed. When no one was looking, she got up, put on her shoes, and stumbled out, wanting to return to the feast for more wine.
Just as she reached the low wall, she saw Song Ke leaning against it. Her heart began racing as she stopped in her tracks.
Song Ke held a folding fan, seeming taller than before, his whole being elegant and refined, like a brilliant pearl. Xiang Lan shook her head, thinking she must be truly drunk and dreaming. In the complete silence around them, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world. Her head spinning, she thought this was good – earlier she hadn’t dared look at Song Ke properly, but now she could see him clearly and lock his features in her heart.
Her heart thundered, her fingertips trembling slightly.
Song Ke was also stunned to see Xiang Lan. He seemed unable to believe his eyes, slowly turning to face her. After a long while, he said hoarsely: “Xiang Lan… how have you been?”
His words shattered the silence. Xiang Lan awoke as if from a dream, followed by an indescribable shame flooding her heart. She had imagined their reunion countless times before – she should have married a learned, caring, gentle, and ambitious husband. Though she might wear simple clothes and be of humble status, she could have stood straight, nodded with a slight smile at Song Ke, and said: “I am well now.” But not like this – dressed in fine silks and adorned with jewels, as Lin Jinlou’s caged bird, especially when she had once sworn never to be a concubine. The moment was particularly humiliating.
She bit her lip and curtsied slightly, saying softly: “Thank you for your concern.” She wanted to ask how Song Ke was, but something seemed stuck in her throat, impossible to express.
They stood silently facing each other, neither speaking another word.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the garden. After Xiang Lan’s words had infuriated Zhao Yuechan to no end, her hatred grew stronger but fearing Xiang Lan might spread the word of her past misdeeds, she swallowed her anger and subtly spoke some kind words about Xiang Lan to others. During the meal, she was still too angry to eat. Having some stomach problems, she felt increasingly uncomfortable and discovered she wasn’t wearing her medicine pouch. She went to find her maid Qiongzhi for some pills.
Outside, Zhao Yuechan saw several tables under the corridor where important servants sat. She looked around but didn’t see Qiongzhi, though she caught a glimpse of her walking ahead. Lifting her skirts, she followed, watching as Qiongzhi kept glancing around.
Zhao Yuechan thought to herself: “This girl has always been cunning and careless. I’ve brought her to the Lu family twice, yet she seems surprisingly familiar with the garden. Where is she going?” She quietly followed and saw Qiongzhi slip into a gardener’s cottage by a side gate.
Zhao Yuechan waited a moment, then crept forward. Licking the window paper to make a hole, she peered inside to see Dai Rong pressing against Qiongzhi, both naked and passionately entangled. Zhao Yuechan was shocked, then covered her mouth and giggled. “That little hussy Qiongzhi is quite the sneaky one, doing such things in someone else’s home. If that shrew Madam Jiao found out, she’d skin her alive!”
Originally, Zhao Yuechan had given Qiongzhi to Zhao Gang to thank him for helping her marry into the Dai family. Zhao Gang had been quite pleased with the beautiful maid for a while, but soon someone gave him a lovely concubine, and he promptly forgot about Qiongzhi. The jealous new concubine couldn’t tolerate Qiongzhi competing for attention and urged Zhao Gang to sell her. The clever Qiongzhi tearfully begged Zhao Gang to let her return to serve Zhao Yuechan. Zhao Gang, reluctant to part with Qiongzhi but unwilling to offend his new favorite, thought he could still see Qiongzhi if she stayed with Zhao Yuechan, so he agreed. But Qiongzhi, having tasted the pleasures of the flesh, couldn’t resist, and Third Young Master Dai Rong was a handsome rake. The two were well-matched, exchanging glances daily but not daring to act due to Madam Jiao’s domineering presence. Lu Jian, Lin Dongwan’s husband, and Dai Rong’s close friend, had provided this convenient spot. Dai Rong used his trusted servant to pass messages to Qiongzhi, leading her here, and when they met, passion ignited like dry wood meeting fire. They had immediately stripped and begun their passionate encounter.
Zhao Yuechan, seeing them at the height of passion, suddenly kicked open the door and stood there glaring: “Outrageous! What are you doing in broad daylight!” The pair were terrified, shaking as they scrambled to find their clothes.
Zhao Yuechan pointed at Qiongzhi and cursed: “You shameless hussy, sneaking here for an affair! You deserve to be beaten to death!” Then she pointed at Dai Rong: “Shameless turtle, you worthless thing, stealing people from under my nose, shaming your mother!”
Qiongzhi was crying in fear, kneeling on the bed and repeatedly kowtowing. Dai Rong, seeing it was Zhao Yuechan, calmed down and said with a grin: “Mother must care for her son – bursting in like this nearly scared me to death.”
Zhao Yuechan spat: “Pah! You degenerate, wait until your father deals with you!”
Dai Rong quickly smiled: “Ancestor! Dear mother! This is a family matter, it shouldn’t be spread around.” He glanced at Qiongzhi, still begging for mercy, her breasts heaving like snow waves, and said flirtatiously to Zhao Yuechan: “You certainly know how to train them, making your son so interested.”
Zhao Yuechan couldn’t help laughing at his shameless words, then straightened her face: “You little bastard, honey-tongued devil. Your wife will come after me when she finds out.”
Dai Rong smiled: “That’s where the mother needs to help her son. If Mother helps me, I’ll truly be filial to you.”
Zhao Yuechan thought for a moment, then said: “You shameless little bastard, get dressed and come out to talk.” She stepped outside to wait but heard movement from beyond the low wall. Looking through a carved window in the stone wall, she saw Xiang Lan and Song Ke gazing at each other intently at the wall’s end.
Zhao Yuechan was startled, narrowing her eyes. She recognized Song Ke, who had once stayed at the Lin household. She had rather liked this handsome and refined young man, fresh as morning dew on bamboo, so different from Lin Jinlou’s commanding presence. But how did that little slut Chen Xiang Lan know Song Ke…
Being well-versed in matters of the heart, Zhao Yuechan immediately sensed something deeper. When Dai Rong and Qiongzhi came out dressed, she put her finger to her lips with a “shh” and said quietly: “I’ll deal with you two troublemakers later. Right now, help me with something.” After giving them instructions in whispers, she sent them away, then hid nearby with a cold smile, waiting to watch the drama unfold.
Song Ke gazed at Xiang Lan in a daze. He recalled their earlier encounter at the entrance. Xiang Lan had grown more beautiful, but the bright vitality she once possessed was completely gone. She stood docilely by Lin Jinlou’s side like a pretty vase. He hadn’t dared look long – this woman was no longer his, would no longer add her elegant presence to his study, carefully tend to his daily needs, gently understand him, pore over account books with an abacus, or shyly show him affection, laying her whole heart before him. He had harbored a humble, shameless hope that Xiang Lan might change her mind and return to him. When Lin Jinting had written to tell him Xiang Lan had married up, he couldn’t believe it, but seeing her today, he finally understood she had truly become Lin Jinlou’s concubine. His heart ached as if squeezed to pieces. He could barely speak, fearing the devastating words that might pour out. He had managed to maintain his composure while exchanging pleasantries with Lin Jinlou, but afterward, he had excused himself to the toilet, leaned alone in a quiet spot covering his face, and wept uncontrollably.
Earlier at the feast, Lin Jinlou had repeatedly toasted his “hundred years of happiness,” “flying wing to wing,” and “bearing sons,” raising his cup again and again. Song Ke had accepted every drink. Though he had little tolerance for alcohol and others tried to stop him, he ignored them. A fire burned in his heart, unbearably agitating. Seeing Lin Jinlou filled him with jealousy and hatred. About to lose composure, he had left to walk off, stumbling into the garden where he unexpectedly encountered Xiang Lan.
“I heard from Lin’s Third Young Master that Lin Jinlou treats you well. That’s good, I…” Song Ke looked at Xiang Lan’s pretty face and struggled to continue, “I…” His voice caught with emotion.
Such a short distance between them had become an ocean of separation.
Xiang Lan’s eyes blurred with tears, and Song Ke became a hazy figure before her.
Song Ke felt death would be better than this torment. Unable to bear it any longer, he stepped forward, his lips trembling: “There’s something I want to ask you. I heard from Junxi that when you were bedridden after being beaten, you mentioned ‘the Shen family’ in your sleep…”
Xiang Lan’s heart leaped, her hands suddenly clenching tight, nails digging into her palms. As Song Ke drew closer, she heard an earth-shattering question through the haze: “Are you Jia Lan? Are you… my wife?”