On the fourteenth day of the eighth month, Madam Wang and Fang Bohui arrived as promised to celebrate the festival early with Jiang Changyang. After dinner, Mudan laid out a large platter of their new-style pastries, including those filled with red bean paste and dried meat, along with an assortment of walnuts, pomegranates, grapes, and pears. She invited Madam Wang and Fang Bohui to enjoy the moon together.
The weather that night was pleasant. The sky resembled fine velvet, with a bright moon hanging in the midst, soft and serene. The sweet fragrance of osmanthus flowers drifted through the air, mingling with the bitter scent of nearby chrysanthemums. Crickets chirped their songs from cracks in the stones and nooks in the earth. Madam Wang, in high spirits, cradled her pipa and played a tune. She glanced at Mudan and Jiang Changyang before turning to Fang Bohui with a tender smile as she began to sing.
The lyrics spoke of a person who had left their hometown and family. On nights when the moon was full, they would think of their homeland and loved ones. As the moon waxed and waned, they wondered when they might return home if their family was well, and if they were remembered. Even with bowls of white rice and wheat, meat soup to drink, and fish to eat, they couldn’t forget the river of their hometown and the fishing girl there.
Madam Wang’s voice was gentle, carrying a hint of languid ease. Though the song was melancholic, she sang it with joy and warmth. The melody stemmed from the heart, perhaps due to her different mood. Happy people sing happy songs, while the melancholic sing sorrowful ones. Mudan sat nearby, observing Madam Wang’s profile. She could only see the upturned corners of her lips, bearing a warm and content smile. Mudan thought Madam Wang must be feeling exceedingly happy and satisfied at that moment.
Fang Bohui had been listening seriously at first, even keeping time for Madam Wang. However, as the song progressed, he finally couldn’t help but lean on the table and chuckle softly, “The children are watching. How old are we to be acting so silly?”
Madam Wang finished the song with a graceful gesture, handing her pipa to Yingtao. She asked innocently, “What’s wrong with me? What did I do? Did I sing badly? Or did I make a mistake? Dalang, did you hear me sing incorrectly?”
Fang Bohui just smiled, first passing her a cup of tea, then tossing her a few peeled walnut kernels. He drawled, “Drink your water, eat your snacks…”
Madam Wang giggled a couple of times, feeling a bit shy. The couple exchanged a knowing look but said nothing more. They simply peeled walnuts and pomegranates for each other, occasionally glancing at one another with sweet smiles.
Mudan also thought Madam Wang’s song was perfectly normal, though her gaze seemed a bit unusual. She looked questioningly at Jiang Changyang, who smiled slightly and whispered in her ear, “Mother used to love singing this song, and Father enjoyed listening to it. Back then, when they weren’t close, he would often hide outside to listen. One particularly cold night, Mother pretended not to know and had a servant douse him with a basin of cold water from head to toe. He stubbornly clung to our doorframe, scowling and saying he’d fall ill from the cold.
He was so fierce and intimidating that the servant nearly cried, but eventually opened the door. My mother then sent me to receive him, saying that since his clothes were wet, he should dry them by the stove. Instead, he pulled eggs from his pocket and taught me how to cook them and drink wine. We talked in the kitchen for most of the night, and some of the things he said, I’ve never forgotten. The next day, he told my mother he wanted to adopt me as his godson. When she asked if I was willing, I was already in awe of him as our savior, so knowledgeable, kind, and fun. Naturally, I was more than willing…”
Jiang Changyang paused briefly, then added mysteriously, “Actually, I’ve always suspected he deliberately let himself get soaked by that basin of cold water.” Though his mother’s expression had been neutral at the time, he sensed she was probably pleased. Perhaps, that basin of water had been intentionally poured as well. But as it concerned his mother, he would tell Mudan about Fang Bohui’s actions but never speak ill of his mother – she was always right in his eyes.
So there was such a story behind it all. To think that the refined, composed, and dignified Fang Bohui would stubbornly cling to someone’s doorframe, trying every means to get inside, only to end up spending a night by the stove with a young boy. “And he was an Envoy…” Mudan thought, amused that he wasn’t afraid of losing face. Her eyes crinkled into crescents as she laughed.
Now, watching the couple in the moonlight, she suddenly noticed how similar some of their expressions and movements were. The so-called ‘married couple’s likeness’ wasn’t about looking alike before marriage, but rather becoming more similar after becoming husband and wife, as their hearts grew in tune with each other. Mudan couldn’t help but stare at Jiang Changyang, wishing she had a mirror to see if she and he had also grown to resemble each other in some ways, perhaps in their smiles or their gazes…
“He wasn’t an Envoy back then,” Jiang Changyang said with a slight sigh, not noticing Mudan’s scrutinizing gaze. “Though times were tough then, it provided experiences and joys that could never be found in the luxurious life of the capital. If I had always been confined here, my perspective might not be much broader than this garden. You know, standing by the sea makes you feel like a drop of water; standing in the desert makes you feel like a grain of sand.”
Mudan dreamily replied, “When you’re older, shall we go together to see the sea and the desert?”
Just as Jiang Changyang was about to agree, Fang Bohui coughed loudly. He looked at the young couple, who were chatting and laughing as if they had forgotten about him and Madam Wang. Shaking his head slightly, he gestured for Jiang Changyang to look towards the courtyard gate. Jiang Changyang glanced over to see Shunhou’er standing in the doorway, hands at his sides, with an innocent expression that seemed to say, “I didn’t see anything, I didn’t hear anything,” his eyes fixed straight ahead.
Realizing that Shunhou’er’s presence at this hour must indicate important business, Jiang Changyang rose and went outside. He returned shortly and spoke quietly to Fang Bohui: “The Emperor has instructed Prince Ning to handle Wang Shilang’s matter.”
Since that day, Minister Xiao had claimed illness, not leaving his house, attending court, or handling affairs. Meanwhile, rumors swirled throughout the court, and even a Hongwen scholar had submitted a petition demanding severe punishment for Wang Shilang to uphold moral standards. In the past, Wang Shilang’s unsavory deeds had been overlooked because the victims weren’t important figures. But now he had dared to assault the heir of a prominent noble family, a talented and handsome youth, knocking him unconscious to defile him. If he wasn’t severely punished, wouldn’t it dishearten scholars across the land? So Wang Shilang had to be punished. However, the Emperor’s decision to let Prince Ning, who should have recused himself, handle this matter was intriguing.
Fang Bohui seemed unsurprised, calmly stating, “It’s an opportunity given to him.” He sighed softly, “The welfare of the state is paramount. In recent years, the Wang clan of Xingyang has had it too easy.”
While the Emperor undoubtedly harbored resentment, to him, finding the most suitable heir was more important than anything. Prince Ning’s support was indeed strong, and he seemed to enjoy the most imperial favor. His maternal clan and his wife’s family accounted for two of the Five Clans. Setting aside the Qin family, the Wang clan of Xingyang behind him was both his support and his burden. By entrusting this difficult task to him, the Emperor likely wanted to see how he would deal with his maternal clan and reveal his true nature. Those born into the royal family were natural actors; one couldn’t discern their true selves until crucial moments. What you see with your eyes and hear with your ears might all be false.
If the same situation had befallen Prince Min, there would have been only one choice for such a black sheep and burden: execution. Even if Wang Shilang’s crime didn’t warrant death, charges would be found to justify his execution. Jiang Changyang was curious how Prince Ning, known for his leniency and benevolence, would handle this matter.
Fang Bohui’s long, strong fingers lightly tapped the table a few times. “How is the investigation into Wu Yugui progressing?”
Jiang Changyang didn’t conceal anything from him: “He had quite a few private dealings with Prince Min several years ago. I believe Prince Min knows some details about that incident from years past. The resurfacing of this matter is largely due to his efforts.”
“What about Jin Buyan?”
“Jin Buyan suddenly disappeared a few days ago, leaving no trace.” This was currently Jiang Changyang’s most troubling issue. Jin Buyan was like a slippery fish, vanishing without a ripple at the slightest disturbance. He found it strange that such an ordinary person could evade even the internal guards in a place like the capital, appearing and disappearing at will. It seemed almost magical unless there was a formidable person behind Jin Buyan.
Fang Bohui sighed and looked at Mudan. “Danniang hasn’t visited Miss Qin in a while, has she? Perhaps you should pay a visit to Madam Duan. She introduced you to such a significant business opportunity; it would be courteous to invite her for a meal in return.”
“Danniang had the same thought,” Jiang Changyang replied. “But Madam Duan returned to Yangzhou just days after coming back from Fang Garden. I’ve already sent people to Yangzhou and Hangzhou; we should have news in a few days.” Whether human or ghost, the truth would soon come to light.
The fifteenth day of the eighth month passed quickly, with everyone curious about the new-style pastries Mudan and the others had concocted. On the sixteenth, Madam Wang and Fang Bohui set off for Kucha with Maya’er, Yingtao, and others. The seasonal work waited for no one, so Mudan went to Fang Garden that day to fully begin the peony grafting work from the previous year. Jiang Changyang remained at the Qujiang Pool villa to continue his work. When he had a slightly easier moment, he would race on horseback to Fang Garden before the city gates closed, returning to the city at dawn, treading on dewdrops.
Lu Fang kept his promise and stayed at Zhou Baniang’s home. Every day, he would go work with Mudan and the others on the flowers. True to his word, he generously taught Mudan some of his techniques. He worked diligently and meticulously as if tending to his flowers. Mudan, feeling grateful, selectively taught him some techniques in return.
Days passed quietly in busyness. Cao Wanrong and the guild remained silent, with no further targeted actions. Even Lu Chun ignored Lu Fang as if he had forgotten about his disobedient son. Lu Fang joked with Mudan, “I suppose they’ve admitted defeat; they had no choice.”
As everything seemed to be progressing smoothly and safely, Mudan, though not saying it aloud, felt somewhat proud. She had grand ambitions, planning to build a small greenhouse to try forcing early peonies. However, that autumn, the rainfall was exceptionally heavy.