That day, until the very end, Empress Dowager Yide still said nothing. Jiang Ruan sensitively felt that Empress Dowager Yide must be hiding a secret in her heart, just like that inexplicable Southern Border landscape painting. However, it seemed the Empress Dowager had no intention of telling her this secret. In her previous life, having stayed in the palace for many years, she had never heard of any secrets regarding Empress Dowager Yide—presumably even Xuan Li didn’t know.
If there was anything particularly noteworthy, it was hearing that in this battle between the Tianjin Kingdom and the Great Jin Dynasty, originally the Great Jin Dynasty had been fighting more courageously as the war progressed, and it looked as though the Tianjin Kingdom was about to be defeated. But somehow, something went wrong somewhere, and the Tianjin Kingdom suddenly experienced a miraculous revival, somehow finding the ability from who knows where to repel the Great Jin Dynasty’s final strike. The war situation once again reached a stalemate.
Jiang Susu was naturally delighted again. When she encountered Jiang Ruan in the manor afterward, she would often deliberately bring up this matter. Jiang Ruan treated it as the mad barking of a dog. After several attempts where Jiang Susu saw that Jiang Ruan remained completely unmoved, she lost interest and simply stopped mentioning it, focusing instead on preparing for the upcoming Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet.
The Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet was a custom of the Great Jin Dynasty. During early autumn when chrysanthemums bloomed abundantly, it was hosted by the prefect’s wife, inviting young ladies of marriageable age from the capital for a small gathering, while the young men would converse and socialize on another side. Though it appeared to be merely a small gathering on the surface, it was actually nothing more than the wives and madams of various families seeking to select sons-in-law and daughters-in-law. The Great Jin Dynasty’s social customs were quite enlightened—there had indeed been young men and women who met at Golden Chrysanthemum Banquets and eventually formed happy marriages, becoming celebrated romantic tales.
Jiang Quan had perhaps finally realized that both his legitimate daughters in the manor had reached the age for betrothal. Setting aside Jiang Ruan for the moment, Jiang Susu was Jiang Quan’s precious darling, so naturally he wanted to find her a good husband. This time, he had also requested Shen Rou, the eldest daughter-in-law of the Marquis Xia manor, to accompany Jiang Ruan.
Xia Jiaojiao’s portrait had already been sent into the palace, so naturally she didn’t need to participate in such occasions. As Jiang Chao gained more favor before Xuan Li, Xia Cheng seemed to have realized something as well. Combined with the fact that the Xia Yan affair had indeed been the Marquis Xia manor’s fault, relations with the Jiang manor gradually warmed again, as if that incident had never occurred.
If Jiang Ruan didn’t attend the Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet while Jiang Susu did, it would inevitably invite gossip. Moreover, the prefect’s wife’s invitation had included Jiang Ruan’s name, so she went together with Shen Rou.
Perhaps viewing this Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet as extremely important, Jiang Susu had been staying secluded in her room all day. Occasionally, melodious qin music would drift from Suxin Courtyard—it was indeed elegant and pleasant to hear. However, the several maids in Ruan Residence were dismissive. With Xia Yan suffering in the Buddhist hall, her daughter still had the heart to attend such frivolous banquets. Originally, Xia Yan had considered everything for Jiang Susu’s sake, never expecting this daughter to be such an ungrateful wretch.
Jiang Ruan hadn’t taken this Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet to heart, continuing with her daily routine as usual. Seeing her like this, Tianzhu was quite relieved, thinking to himself that their young master’s painstaking efforts hadn’t been in vain. If this well-raised cabbage were to be stolen by some other pig, their young master would surely be furious upon returning to the capital. Cough, of course, Jiang Ruan wasn’t a cabbage, and their young master wasn’t… well, whatever that was.
The scorching summer finally slowly finished its last tail, and in the blink of an eye, it was early autumn. The sun had long since lost its earlier vicious heat, becoming somewhat gentler. Occasionally, there were a few very refreshing breezes, and even in the small flower bed outside Ruan Residence, the randomly planted unknown little white daisies had begun to bloom—the Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet was approaching.
If this had been a Golden Chrysanthemum Banquet in previous years, the Jiang manor would surely have been extremely lively. There would have been Xia Yan managing everything up and down, Madam Jiang instructing on proper etiquette, Second Concubine shopping everywhere for jewelry, and Hongying dressed as beautifully as a celestial being. Jiang Li would naturally be as arrogant and domineering as before, with Jiang Susu smiling while playing the role of an otherworldly fairy. Jiang Dan would be timid and carefully trying to please everyone. The Jiang manor was never short of women—a houseful of rouge and powder, endless romantic charm.
However, the past had flowed away like water, fleeting and transient, as if those enchanting beautiful figures were nothing but a southern dream. Now the Jiang manor had only one pregnant concubine who seemed to have completely changed her nature, no longer speaking of romance but only worrying about trivial matters, having lost all her former ethereal grace. As for the others—the dead were dead, the mad were mad. In such a vast Jiang manor, it had become eerily empty and desolate, showing signs of decline.
The servants in the manor were most sensitive to these changes. In just a few short years, the Jiang manor seemed to have taken on a completely different appearance. A thought vaguely arose in the hearts of these house-born servants who had lived in the Jiang manor since childhood: the Jiang manor’s decades of flourishing prosperity would perhaps, before much longer, return to dust like these women of the Jiang manor.
…
Early that morning, Jiang Ruan was attended to by Bai Zhi and Lian Qiao for washing and dressing. Today even Heaven was willing to show favor—the sun peeked out slightly, casting warm rays on one’s body without any trace of summer heat. The breeze was cool and refreshing, perfect for flower viewing.
Since she was still in the mourning period, Bai Zhi selected lotus azure clothing for Jiang Ruan. Lian Qiao said, “It’s such a pity about Miss’s complexion. Originally, wearing bright red would be best—no one could compare.”
“Miss isn’t going to compete in beauty,” Bai Zhi said. “Lotus azure is also quite good—dignified.”
After finally finishing the preparations, a maid came to report that the Marquis Xia manor’s carriage was already waiting outside the manor gates. Shen Rou had come early to pick them up. As soon as Jiang Ruan stepped outside, she saw Jiang Susu dressed in plain clothes.
These past days, because Jiang Susu had been staying in the manor constantly, and perhaps due to daily anxiety, her former beautiful appearance had diminished by thirty percent. Today she had apparently dressed up carefully, wearing a uniquely tailored soft silver-azure silk lily skirt that showed off her graceful figure. Her long hair was arranged in a Canluan bun, with a glazed ruyi hairpin inserted at an angle. It was both elegant and gave her an otherworldly, refined appearance. Combined with what seemed to be her charm arts having advanced somewhat, her every movement had shed that layer of frivolity, revealing a unique allure. She continuously drew people’s gazes, making them feel she was truly like a fairy descended from the nine heavens.
Seeing Jiang Ruan emerge, Jiang Susu also looked her over. Naturally, Jiang Ruan hadn’t worn red clothing for a long time, and today had chosen a lotus azure plain embroidered jacket and skirt. Lotus azure was already a demanding color, making her fair skin and deep, gorgeous features even more prominent. The dignified color added a layer of imperial nobility that others lacked. Her noble bearing seemed natural, as if she were born to be a lofty princess.
As Jiang Susu looked, her eyes gradually filled with deep hatred.
This wasn’t really Jiang Ruan’s fault though. When Empress Dowager Yide had the Imperial Wardrobe Department make clothing, she would often have some made for Jiang Ruan as well. The fabrics allocated to princesses in the palace were naturally incomparable. Though Jiang Quan possessed many fine things, they ultimately couldn’t compare to the palace’s tribute goods. Moreover, having spent so many years in the palace in her previous life, Jiang Ruan’s gestures and bearing had naturally absorbed the palace’s refinement. This refinement couldn’t be learned in a short time. Others, not knowing her past, would only say her elegance was innate.
The carriage curtain was lifted slightly, and Shen Rou smiled, “Two young ladies, won’t you board the carriage?”
Jiang Ruan glanced and saw there was another person in the carriage. Slightly startled, it wasn’t until she boarded that she discovered the person was none other than Yu Ya, the second daughter-in-law of the Xia family.
Originally, when the Marquis Xia manor and Jiang manor were at odds, it was because of the Xia Jun affair. When the incident occurred, Yu Ya had despised Jiang Susu, but the Xia family weren’t fools—with just a little thought, they could figure out who was really orchestrating things. Xia Jun couldn’t enter officialdom because of her, and Yu Ya’s restraint in not beating her to death showed remarkable self-control.
Shen Rou looked at Jiang Ruan, then at Jiang Susu, and giggled behind her hand, “Minister Jiang is truly blessed—both young ladies are like jade and flowers.”
“Indeed,” Yu Ya also surprisingly spoke up, “The Princess looks even more radiantly beautiful than three years ago.”
Jiang Ruan smiled slightly without responding, only looking calmly at Yu Ya. Of the two daughters-in-law of the Marquis Xia manor, the eldest, Shen Rou, was a smiling tiger who appeared gentle and amiable to everyone. Though beautiful, one only needed to look at what Xia Jiaojiao was like to understand this eldest daughter-in-law’s true private nature. The second daughter-in-law, Yu Ya, was harsh and sharp-tongued. The second master of the Xia family was notorious for his philandering, and if this second daughter-in-law hadn’t borne him a son, he would probably have divorced her with a letter of dismissal long ago.
If such flattering words came from Shen Rou’s mouth, there would be nothing strange about it. But coming from the sharp-tongued Yu Ya’s mouth, especially when Yu Ya was her sworn enemy—it was altogether too strange.
Under Jiang Ruan’s gaze, Yu Ya looked away and said to Jiang Susu, “Second Miss will surely dazzle everyone today.”
Jiang Susu smiled softly, “Second Aunt is too kind.”
…
They traveled all the way to the prefect’s wife’s residence without incident. After alighting from the carriage, servants waiting outside came forward to welcome them. They were led inside, where the main hall was indeed already filled with various wives and madams. The young ladies had all gone to admire chrysanthemums in the courtyard. This prefect’s wife was a flower lover who had set aside a very large area of her residence for growing flowers. It was spacious enough and suitable for those young people to converse or compete in the courtyard.
However, the young men were in the west garden while the young ladies were in the east courtyard. If there were any who secretly came to observe, that went unmentioned—as long as nothing improper occurred, others who saw would pretend not to notice. On this day, people were always particularly tolerant toward young folks.
The prefect’s wife rose to welcome the group. Her gaze fell on Jiang Ruan, and she couldn’t help but brighten, saying, “Princess Hong’an truly possesses natural grace—it makes one envious of Minister Jiang.”
Jiang Susu found herself thus ignored, and anger suddenly surged in her heart. But she noticed that most people in the hall were looking at Jiang Ruan, making her somewhat suspicious and wondering if her charm arts had deteriorated—otherwise, why would everyone look at Jiang Ruan instead of her?
She didn’t realize that while charm arts might be effective on men, everyone present consisted of officials’ wives. Why would they care who looked good? Jiang Ruan was now Princess Hong’an, backed by the General’s manor, with a war god older brother above her. Those with sons were all calculating whether they could marry Jiang Ruan as a daughter-in-law. Jiang Ruan was naturally born noble, and though perhaps too beautiful, her dignified bearing managed to suppress her seductive charm, displaying an unprecedented air of grandeur. When official wives selected daughters-in-law, appearance was secondary. Even if Jiang Ruan were plain as salt, she would still be a prized catch in these wives’ eyes.
The prefect’s wife apparently had the same idea—she had two sons now in their prime, at marriageable age. Looking at Jiang Ruan, she was increasingly satisfied and wanted to continue the warm conversation when a clear voice sounded behind her: “Sister Ruan, I’ve been waiting for you so long.”
Jiang Ruan looked up to see Zhao Jin walking over from her seat, winking at her. Jiang Ruan nodded, and Zhao Jin came forward to take her hand, saying to the prefect’s wife, “Madam, I want to take Sister Ruan to look at the chrysanthemums in the courtyard. Such beautiful flowers—Sister Ruan hasn’t seen them yet.”
The prefect’s wife’s words stuck in her throat. Shen Rou suddenly smiled and smoothed things over: “I was just thinking of having a chat with Madam. The young ladies can go play in the courtyard by themselves. Susu, you go along too.”
Yu Ya frowned, glanced at Jiang Ruan, but ultimately stayed beside Shen Rou.
Jiang Susu also smiled: “Good.”
The three left the main hall together. Only then did Jiang Susu say to Jiang Ruan, “Elder Sister and Miss Zhao surely have much to discuss. I’ll take my leave first.” She naturally didn’t want to stay with Jiang Ruan—Jiang Ruan always outshone her radiance. How could she be willing? Moreover, she wanted to go to the west garden to look at those young men. She refused to believe that with her beauty, she couldn’t gain a few more admirers.
Watching Jiang Susu’s retreating figure, Zhao Jin said somewhat strangely, “That’s not the direction to the west garden. What does your second sister want to do?”
“No need to mind her,” Jiang Ruan said.
“Eh, aren’t you afraid something might happen, and people will later speak ill of the Jiang manor?” Zhao Jin was even more puzzled. If she accompanied her family’s brothers somewhere, her parents would surely give those brothers strict instructions, saying that going out represented the entire manor’s reputation, and they absolutely mustn’t lose face outside, lest it bring shame upon their household.
Jiang Ruan smiled slightly. Zhao Jin lived honestly and straightforwardly. If the Jiang manor truly collapsed because of Jiang Susu, that would actually be a good thing. She’d have to be crazy to actively help Jiang Susu clean up messes and restore the Jiang manor’s reputation.
Seeing Jiang Ruan remain silent, Zhao Jin didn’t continue this topic, only looking at her and saying, “You’re quite broad-minded. Speaking of which, we haven’t seen each other for quite a while. I’ve been wanting to have a chat with you.” She looked around and asked, “Would you like to see the chrysanthemums?”
Speaking of chrysanthemums, a flash of impatience crossed Zhao Jin’s face. As a military general’s daughter, she naturally didn’t like flowers and plants, nor did she need to be melancholy about spring and autumn like other boudoir misses. As for those women in the courtyard who were ostensibly admiring flowers but actually competing in beauty and elegance—their chatter gave her a headache. If her mother hadn’t insisted she make this trip, Zhao Jin would never have wanted to come.
Looking at her expression, Jiang Ruan knew what she was thinking and couldn’t help smiling slightly: “No.”
“Perfect, I don’t want to either,” Zhao Jin brightened immediately. “I knew Sister Ruan was of the same mind as me. Come, let’s find a quiet place to have a proper conversation.” With that, she pulled Jiang Ruan in the opposite direction from the chrysanthemum viewing.
As they walked, Zhao Jin chatted with Jiang Ruan: “I haven’t seen Ying’er for ages. The other day I encountered the magistrate’s wife, and she said Ying’er had fallen ill and couldn’t go out to avoid catching cold. I don’t know if she’s recovered by now.”
Jiang Ruan lowered her eyes. Madam Dong had indeed concealed Dong Ying’er’s situation. Now that Dong Ying’er’s portrait had been sent to the palace, this too was kept secret from everyone. Zhao Jin seemed puzzled as she brought this up: “How did she suddenly fall ill? I heard that Young Master Chang’s betrothal to Ying’er was also broken off. Initially, I thought it was the Chang family looking down on Ying’er for her weak constitution, and I was planning to find that Chang An to demand an explanation, but then I heard…” Zhao Jin, with her naturally straightforward personality, suddenly stopped mid-sentence, apparently realizing she’d touched on something significant. She looked up at Jiang Ruan, and seeing Jiang Ruan’s smiling expression, asked tentatively, “You know about it?”
“I know. Madam Dong spoke with me, hoping I could persuade Sister Ying’er not to waste her thoughts on unrealistic matters.”
Zhao Jin sighed: “Ying’er and I grew up together. She’s innocent-minded and doesn’t understand these things. But Sister Ruan, do you know who the person in Ying’er’s heart is?”
Jiang Ruan smiled: “I don’t know.”
Zhao Jin sighed: “I only hope she comes to her senses soon. And there’s Feifei—her family has already selected a match for her. They’re just waiting until after New Year for her to marry. It’s also a good match with a military family in the capital.”
Wen Feifei was also from a military background, and now that she’d reached marriageable age, it was time for her to wed. Jiang Ruan asked, “How is Sister Lin?”
“Zixiang?” Zhao Jin smiled: “She’s a stubborn one. Today she was supposed to come too, but she insisted on having a huge fight with Minister Lin at home, saying she absolutely wouldn’t follow such pedantic customs, and that if she were to find a good man, it would have to be someone she herself recognized.”
This indeed sounded like Lin Zixiang’s shocking and unconventional personality. Minister Lin would probably have many more headaches. The two had already reached a quiet secluded area. Jiang Ruan asked, “Has Sister Zhao ever thought about what kind of family to look for?”
“Me?” Zhao Jin shook her head: “I don’t want to be like those boudoir ladies, marrying and obeying my husband, spending all day in the residence dealing with trivial household matters. I only wish to be like my father and brothers, fighting on the battlefield to protect the people of Great Jin.”
These words certainly didn’t sound like what a woman could say, but Zhao Jin had always been raised by her family to have a tomboyish temperament, possessing genuine heroic spirit. Zhao Jin seemed to think of something, her expression darkening as she shook her head: “It’s just that…”
Jiang Ruan looked up at her.
Zhao Jin thought for a moment, then moved closer and said, “Sister Ruan, I feel close to you, so I’ll tell you a secret. You mustn’t tell anyone else about this.”
Jiang Ruan nodded.
“It seems the Tianjin Kingdom has colluded with the Southern Border. The Southern Border has sent reinforcements, and the war situation has become critical these past days. His Majesty has even issued a death order—it seems more troops will be sent.” Zhao Jin whispered in her ear: “My father received a secret edict from His Majesty. In a few more days, he’ll have to go to war. The Tianjin Kingdom is in remote mountains and distant waters—I’m truly afraid something might happen.”
Jiang Ruan’s heart trembled slightly. Zhao Jin had already released her, looking somewhat dejected toward the distance: “I have martial arts skills and could fight on the battlefield, yet I can’t share any of father’s burden. I feel quite ashamed.”
Jiang Ruan was about to comfort her with a few words when she suddenly heard some unusual sounds coming from the depths of the secluded garden’s peach grove ahead. The sounds were extremely faint—if Zhao Jin hadn’t just lowered her voice, those sounds would likely have been drowned out.