Lin Jinlou woke from a confused sleep, unsure of what time it was. He sat up for a while, still feeling as if he were in some bizarre, absurd dream. Outside, lanterns were already lit, and the room was dim. As he turned his neck, his eyes fell on Xianglan’s letter lying on the kang bed, and his face immediately darkened. He got up to pour tea, only to find the teapot empty, which irritated him further. With a “bang,” he threw the pot to the ground. Shuang Xi, who had been keeping watch outside, quickly peered in upon hearing the noise, only to hear Lin Jinlou curse, “Where is everyone? Huh? One after another, all disappeared – where the hell did they all go? What’s the use of keeping you all?”

Shuang Xi inwardly groaned but quickly came forward, saying, “Young Master, you’re awake…” Before he could finish, another teacup came flying. Lin Jinlou roared, “Get out! Get out!” Shuang Xi hastily retreated with his tail between his legs.

Lin Jinlou sat down, breathing heavily, feeling pain from his head down to his heart as if being pierced by countless blades. Then he heard a knocking sound from the screen at the entrance. Just as he was about to vent his irritation, Yuan Shaoren appeared, carrying a teapot. Smiling slightly, he poured tea while saying, “Such a temper? Hmm? With this disposition of yours, who wouldn’t run away terrified at the sight of you?”

This remark struck Lin Jinlou’s raw nerve, and he deflated, his face contorting as he said, “Go wherever you please, don’t block my way. I don’t want to see anyone today.”

Yuan Shaoren remained unfazed. Having shared life-and-death experiences with Lin Jinlou over their long friendship, he knew him well. He stepped forward, patted Lin Jinlou’s shoulder, and said, “What’s this? Can’t find someone so you’re taking it out on me? Biting everyone like a mad dog.” Noticing the letter on the bed, he reached for it. Lin Jinlou tried to snatch it away, saying, “Put that down!” But Yuan Shaoren had already quickly scanned it. Letting Lin Jinlou take it back, he couldn’t help but chuckle, “So that’s it. Karma has come around, no wonder your face has changed. Look at what’s written in the letter – ‘never found joy here.’ Tsk tsk, what’s wrong? Regretting not treating her better before?”

“Get out! Who invited you to my home? Get out!”

“Alright, I’ll leave after saying one thing. There are so many people searching outside now, covering dozens of li around Medicine King Temple, turning over every blade of grass, but finding nothing. Everyone’s waiting for your word on what to do next.”

Lin Jinlou sat with a dark expression, saying nothing. He picked up his cup and drained the tea in one gulp, setting it down hard on the table.

“Come on, I know you. Can you stop searching?”

Lin Jinlou remained silent, feeling his blood surge again, his chest numb with pain. Usually, he kept his troubles to himself, suffering in silence, but this pain was impossible to suppress. He couldn’t help but say, “She’s too heartless…” His voice caught, unable to continue.

Yuan Shaoren’s face also darkened. He patted Lin Jinlou’s shoulder and said, “Perhaps she’s frightened deep down. She’s not some young girl who falls in love on impulse – she understands too well.”

Lin Jinlou glanced at Yuan Shaoren: “What do you know? Acting like some love expert.”

“Learned through blood and tears.” Yuan Shaoren lowered his head, seemingly lost in thought about someone, then sighed after a while: “Yingyang, fortunately, it’s her – if someone else had gone through all this, who knows what they might have become.” He took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, “As brothers, let’s drop the pretense. I’ll lend you my strength and send people to search too.” With that, he left.

Lin Jinlou continued sending his men to search, but in the vast sea of humanity, they couldn’t find a trace. He thought Xianglan would surely return home to visit her parents, so he secretly sent people to investigate, but Xianglan hadn’t returned home. When Chen Wanquan mentioned Xianglan, his eyes crinkled with joy, wrinkles bunching together on his face: “My daughter is now with General Lin in the capital. You know ‘The Chronicles of Scholar Lanxiang’? That play tells my daughter’s story… Oh my, talk about rising to fame! Hehe, my daughter is loyal and righteous – not to brag, but few virtuous women throughout history could match her…”

Though the person couldn’t be found, days still had to pass. Lin Jinlou felt the days were empty, his rooms cold and quiet. During the first month, seeing Xianglan’s left-behind handkerchiefs, clothes, fans, sachets, books she had read, and paintings she had made would ignite pain and anger in his heart. He smashed countless items, frightening Shu Ran and others into quietly collecting all of Xianglan’s used items, even replacing the bedding and curtains with new ones. When Lin Jinlou returned and entered the room, he stood stunned for a long while. Xiao Juan nervously entered to serve tea, but as she was leaving, she heard Lin Jinlou say, “Put the things back. At least there’s some human presence.” Xiao Juan was stunned, mumbled a response, and quickly retreated.

No one dared mention “Xianglan,” even Madam Qin was cautious, watching her eldest son’s expression. Occasionally, she would complain to Madam Wang: “Did I commit some sin in my past life? Young Master Lou goes around half-dead with that face of his, how can he not give me peace of mind?”

Lin Zhangmin lay seriously injured in bed, but Madam Wang seemed more spirited than usual, wearing newly made pure gold ornaments on her head. She said to Madam Qin: “This is what it means to be worried sick – how could there be any smile? When I think of our Miss Ling, she must cry at night when all is quiet. Young Master Lou is a man, naturally not like us, but doesn’t he cry in his heart?”

Was Lin Jinlou suffering? He knew he should be strong and resolute, that at his age he shouldn’t make others worry, especially with so many in the Lin army depending on him. He forced himself to appear vigorous and lively, but he felt as if his entire being had turned to wood, going through social interactions like acting in a play. Only when he returned to his room, alone, did he know how exhausted he was, feeling suffocated by his torment. Yet in his midnight dreams, Chen Xianglan’s shadow still filled his vision. He should have returned to Nanjing long ago, but he remained in the capital just to find this one person. He felt he was running out of options – no matter how many people he sent out or how much reward money he offered, there was still no news. Sometimes he would be seized by fear, wondering if she was no longer in this world. But without seeing either person or corpse, how could he give up hope?

Chu Dapeng had passed both imperial examinations and was about to be assigned to an official post in Jiangzhe. He specially hosted a banquet and invited Lin Jinlou. At the feast, Chu Dapeng personally poured wine for Lin Jinlou, smiling as he said, “I’ll soon be in your territory, Brother, and hope for your kind attention and care.”

Lin Jinlou smiled slightly, raised his cup, and said, “We’re all brothers here, no need for such formality.”

After one cup of wine, Liu Xiaochuan grinned and came forward: “Brother Lou, today’s banquet features the capital’s most popular ladies. Would you like to take a look?”

Lin Jinlou raised his eyes to see four beauties, some plump, some slender, all with apricot faces and peach cheeks, extremely beautiful. He sat there thinking steadily – what was the point? That woman had left without a care, why should he concern himself with whether she lived or died? Why not enjoy himself one day at a time, as he used to? Besides, each of these beauties before him was charming and alluring, radiant and sensible. Why should he torment himself?

Just then, Xie Yu, with playful eyes, brought forward a woman who played the qin and seated her beside Lin Jinlou, saying with a smile: “Brother, this Miss Meiwe is newly arrived. She’s had several tutors since childhood and is accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, as well as classics and histories – there’s nothing she doesn’t know. Let her accompany you, Brother, but be gentle – don’t frighten her.” He then gestured at Meiwe, saying, “Serve him well.”

Lin Jinlou observed her through half-closed eyes. She had willow-like eyebrows, and jade-white skin, and wore a silver-threaded gauze shirt and a gold-embroidered red silk skirt – truly a beauty. Meiwe, with a spring-like smile, raised a cup of wine with her jade-like hand and said softly, “General Lin, let Meiwe offer you a toast first.”

Lin Jinlou stared at her for a while before drinking his wine. Throughout the feast, amid the constant exchange of cups and urging to drink, Lin Jinlou refused no one. When he was half-drunk, others signaled Meiwe to help Lin Jinlou to the back room to rest. Lin Jinlou walked to the door, where the night wind cleared half his drunkenness. Meiwe supported him with one hand, smiling as she said, “Master, the side room is this way…”

Before she could finish, Lin Jinlou pushed her away and staggered outside, calling for his horse to be brought, and left directly. He had suddenly become disgusted – what used to be a place of pleasure had become unbearable. It was all just a show of coming and going, playing parts. The women were as beautiful as flowers, every smile and gesture calculated to please, speaking of tender feelings and love, either acting coy or gentle, seeking pity with soft words, all while wearing false faces and pretending to be happy. Xianglan was never like that – that silly girl always carried a sincere heart, letting others take advantage of her without minding. Her smile alone could warm his heart. Thinking of these things weighed on his heart like lead and cut like knives. His hatred felt like being carved with a dull blade, making him suffer to the point of despair. Yet emerging from self-pity and grief, he couldn’t help but think of her, with a voice in his heart constantly calling for her return. If only she would come back, he wouldn’t ask anything – having her by his side would be enough.

Days passed unknowingly. Lin Jinlou stood in his room looking out the window, seeing red leaves dancing in the trees and yellow flowers covering the courtyard. He had been so busy these days that he hadn’t noticed summer had passed, and it was already deep autumn. Several young maids were sweeping the courtyard with brooms, unaware that Lin Jinlou was watching, chatting and laughing, some humming tunes – listening carefully, it was a piece from “The Chronicles of Scholar Lanxiang.” Since the Empress Dowager had listened to this play with tears staining her collar, and Summer Consort had praised Xianglan’s righteousness while hinting at Lin Jinlou’s wish to marry her, the Empress Dowager had ordered Chen Xianglan to enter the palace for an audience. But the Lin family said Xianglan’s whereabouts were unknown, presumably because she knew her humble status made her unworthy of the Lin family’s position, so she had left without farewell. The noble ladies in the palace all sighed upon hearing this, specifically requesting to hear this play – not because the melody was particularly beautiful, but because this story happened in their current dynasty and was full of twists and turns.

Shu Ran quietly entered to add tea. As he was leaving, his eyes caught sight of the sheepskin pouch at Lin Jinlou’s waist – he remembered it was the first pouch Xianglan had made for him. Though the tassels were now worn bare, he still wouldn’t change it. Shu Ran recalled Hua Shan saying quietly that Lin Jinlou kept Xianglan’s unfinished socks by his bedside, speaking in a low voice: “Is Young Master waiting for Madam to return and finish them?” Shu Ran had rebuked: “Don’t gossip about the master’s affairs.” But in his heart, he was moved – though their Young Master seemed calm these days, he had never expected that someone once so unrestrained in romance would have a time of such deep longing.