After Matron Guo was sent away, Song Tan Chai returned to report to Madam Song: “Matron Guo changed her mind and wants to go to Yangzhou to stay with her nephew. The daughter thought since she was alone and helpless, having relatives nearby to care for her in her twilight years would be good.
The Song family will send some silver each year as a gesture of goodwill. We’ve already held Fang Si’s funeral, performed the Buddhist rites, and treated Matron Guo well—any obligation has been fulfilled.”
Madam Song sighed, “That’s for the best.” Seeing Xiang Lan standing at the door, she recalled Matron Guo’s parting words. Looking carefully, she indeed saw Xiang Lan’s peach blossom complexion and felt uneasy, thinking to herself: “Since her arrival, because of her, Young Master has driven away the two most reliable people by my side. Matron Guo was right—if this isn’t bringing ruin to the family, what is?” Her dislike for Xiang Lan grew, and she waved her hand, saying, “You may go, I need to rest.”
Song Tan Chai and Xiang Lan withdrew, but that’s not the end of the matter.
After this incident, Song Tan Chai discovered Xiang Lan to be steady and reliable, gradually growing closer to her. They would occasionally work and joke together, getting along well. Song Tan Chai told Madam Song, “I originally thought Xiang Lan was just pretty, but now after seeing her handle matters, I know she’s gentle and appropriate. Her conversation and knowledge surpass even those of young ladies from noble families.”
Madam Song snorted, “From such a humble background, what knowledge could she have?”
Song Tan Chai replied, “Mother shouldn’t say that. The other day, I discovered a kitchenwife stealing household items to gamble and embezzling money from the accounts. I was furious and wanted to drive her out. Xiang Lan stopped me, saying, ‘I know Young Lady doesn’t tolerate such behavior, but this servant shows remorse. Her mother-in-law has served the Song family for decades and is now begging for mercy. Driving her out might discourage other old servants. Why not reassign her, and if she offends again, send her to work on the estate?’ I thought it made sense and transferred her to laundry duty. Xiang Lan then said, ‘Laundry is thankless hard work. If she does it earnestly, it won’t waste Young Lady’s kindness and she might be useful later. If she can’t handle it, Young Lady can easily dismiss her from the household without anyone finding fault.’ She advised me not to spread the word of this. Before I understood what was happening, servants were discussing how merciful I was, giving such a servant a chance to repent. After washing clothes for a few days, that wife couldn’t bear it and claimed illness. I sent her to the estate. Without any effort, I gained a good reputation while getting rid of a thief. Isn’t this wisdom? Mother still doubts her character and asks me to check Brother’s quarters, but nothing is missing—even daily silver expenses are recorded. What more reassurance does Mother need? When Matron Guo left, she took so many things from our home. If not for Xiang Lan, that devious old servant would have gotten away with everything.”
Madam Song turned away, clearly displeased, so Song Tan Chai stopped speaking.
Time flew like a shuttle; as summer drew to a close, autumn arrived.
Xiang Lan moved a pot of jasmine indoors and lowered the window. She quietly brought Song Ke a bowl of soup and placed it on his desk. Song Ke, who was writing, put his brush on the blue-and-white porcelain rest and picked up the soup, sniffing it. “Is this pork rib soup today?”
Xiang Lan replied, “Wolfberry and pork rib soup. It’s been simmering since early morning—the meat is tender.” She efficiently stacked his books in layers.
Song Ke asked, “Have some been sent to Madam’s quarters?”
Xiang Lan answered, “Yue Xi took it… Ah, I don’t know how I’ve offended Madam, but she seems to avoid seeing me.” She sighed.
Song Ke frowned. Recently, Madam Song had often mentioned Xiang Lan’s poor character to him. When she stopped discussing that, she switched to saying Xiang Lan had features that would “bring ruin to the family” and couldn’t stay. He had casually responded a few times, but after hearing it repeatedly, he said, “Mother, where did you hear such nonsense? I know Xiang Lan’s character best—she’s never touched the loose silver and copper coins in my quarters. If you don’t believe me, ask Yue Xi and Jun Xi. As for physiognomy, that’s purely street fortune-teller talk. Someone once said I wouldn’t live past two years old, yet haven’t I grown up safely?”
Madam Song stopped mentioning it after that, and he thought the matter was settled. He hadn’t expected her to still harbor concerns. Thinking carefully, he realized his mother did take such supernatural claims seriously, so he planned to take the whole family to Gan Lu Temple in a few days to worship Buddha. He would give the monks some silver to praise Xiang Lan’s features in front of Madam Song to ease her doubts. He said, “It’s nothing. She’s just uncomfortable because Matron Guo left. Don’t think too much about it.”
Xiang Lan sighed silently again. How could she not think about it? She was gradually working toward a good marriage with Song Ke. Her background was already inferior, and if Madam Song disliked her, it would only become more difficult.
Song Ke watched Xiang Lan standing beside him, collecting his discarded papers one by one. Her delicate hands were slender, with clear, lustrous nails, revealing a snow-white wrist. He took her hand and pulled her close, secretly stealing a kiss on her fair cheek. Seeing her ears redden, he wouldn’t let her leave, gently pinching her nails and asking, “Others dye their nails with garden balsam—why don’t you?”
After spending time together day and night, they had grown quite affectionate, though Xiang Lan remained somewhat shy. She tried to withdraw her hand, but Song Ke held firm. She could only say, “Why bother with such things? It’s vulgar.”
Song Ke smiled, “It looks good either way.” He caressed and examined her hand, saying, “Your hands are so clever. The sachet you made me recently, with the maple leaf and cicada embroidery, was exquisitely done. When Xiu Hong saw it, he tried to snatch it—fortunately, I grabbed it back quickly. When he asked who made it, I said I bought it outside. He even insisted I buy him one.”
He untied the sachet from his waist, looked at it, and said, “This pattern is well-drawn too, almost matching the style of the ‘Lan Xiang Recluse.'”
Xiang Lan started, “You know of the Lan Xiang Recluse?”
Song Ke smiled, “Who doesn’t? The painting skill is famous, and the artistic conception is interesting. People are selling the works at high prices in the marketplace, but many say they capture the form but not the spirit. I heard your father had some connection with her and owns some of her paintings. People have asked me about buying a few pieces.”
Song Ke’s smile was like the spring wind of March or summer’s fine rain. Seeing his slightly raised eyebrows and his eyes and lips curved like half-moons, Xiang Lan’s worries instantly disappeared with his smile.
Song Ke seemed to muse aloud, “Your name is Xiang Lan, and they’re called the Lan Xiang Recluse. Xiang Lan, Lan Xiang—could it be you?” He meant it as a joke, but looking up, he saw Xiang Lan smiling meaningfully without speaking. He couldn’t help but ask suspiciously, “It’s not you, is it?”
Xiang Lan leaned against Song Ke, picked up the brush, dipped it in ink, and made a few strokes on the paper. In moments, a small insect appeared on the page, crouching beside Song Ke’s signature mark, its long antennae raised, looking completely lifelike.
Song Ke was shocked. He picked up the paper and looked at it repeatedly, examining Xiang Lan from head to toe as if he didn’t recognize her.
Xiang Lan smiled and asked, “What? Don’t you recognize me?”
After a long moment, Song Ke exclaimed, “It’s you?”
Xiang Lan sat down beside Song Ke and said, “I learned from the Buddhist nun at Jing Yue Temple when I was young. It sells for good money now only because it’s interesting, not because the technique is exceptional. Now that I’ve told you, please keep it secret. If others know these paintings are by a maid, they probably won’t fetch high prices anymore.”
Song Ke shook his head, “If those scholars and artists knew these paintings came from a beauty’s hand, the price would probably increase several times. The way your paintings blend the refined with the common is unmatched by others. No wonder your family is buying property—the Lan Xiang Recluse now paints large pieces, each selling for fifty taels of silver, equivalent to a head shopkeeper’s annual salary.” He looked at Xiang Lan with delight but somehow felt extremely anxious.
Xiang Lan slowly became serious, straightened her back, and said, “Since I’ve revealed my secret, I should be completely honest. You saved my life—a debt I can never repay through countless lifetimes. These days together…” Her face reddened before she finished speaking. She bit her lip and continued, “I truly have feelings for you, but I don’t want to be anyone’s concubine. You’re from a noble family, while I’m just a servant—my indenture contract is still in your hands. I shouldn’t say such things, but I’ll be bold now. If you don’t intend to marry me properly, I’ll repay double the silver you spent to redeem me and ask you to release me. I’ll forever remember the great kindness of saving me and will repay it someday.”
Song Ke pressed his lips together in silence.
He truly liked Xiang Lan now. This girl was gentle and composed, yet extremely resilient inside, always quietly caring and considerate, thinking everything through for him. Initially, he had liked her appearance and temperament, but now he couldn’t live without her, wanting to spend their lives together. He had already felt that someone of Xiang Lan’s character and beauty would be wronged as a concubine, and now knowing she had such talent, she surely wouldn’t submit to a lower position. Xiang Lan had good looks and temperament—if she had even a slightly more respectable background, even as an official’s illegitimate daughter or a landlord’s daughter, he would have found every way to marry her. Although her parents were now free people, they were still of servant origin. Moreover, he had ambitions—to revive the family’s fortunes, it would be best to marry a wife with an influential family background…
Song Ke silently looked at Xiang Lan, suddenly reaching out to touch her hair and cheek, his hand trembling slightly as if wanting to touch her but hesitating.
Xiang Lan remained silent, her clear eyes fixed on him, then stood and walked to the door, saying, “My mother happens to be unwell these days. I’d like to ask Young Master for leave to go home and care for her for a few days.” She opened the door and left.
Song Ke sat alone in the room, staring at the lifelike little insect on the paper, motionless.