After comforting Lin Jiayue, Jiang Xingjian walked out of the inner quarters. He was not a lustful man, and at this moment couldn’t help but feel that Confucius’s saying “only women and petty men are difficult to nurture” was most apt. Lin Jiayue’s tearful clinging annoyed him, while Song Wan…

Thinking of this, the image of her yesterday holding the Golden Silk Tiger on the verge of tears floated into Jiang Xingjian’s mind. Those eyes angry yet aggrieved, heartbroken yet mournful, that expression neither truly angry nor truly reproachful made his scalp tingle involuntarily.

Jiang Xingjian furrowed his brow.

“Does elder brother feel unwell?”

Jiang Xingjian didn’t answer, instead asking: “You’ve just returned from outside?”

Jiang Yan nodded in affirmation, then stood to one side, his bearing entirely respectful.

The Marquis’s household was a family of officials, a clan of scholars and literati, most particular about ethical codes and propriety. Not only was there the distinction between legitimate and concubine-born between Jiang Xingjian and him, but also the difference of elder and younger. Jiang Yan knew that man most disliked discourteous and reckless people, so these years he had restrained himself and followed ritual propriety, striving to be an upright gentleman, a paragon for the ages.

Even facing Jiang Xingjian, he could maintain composure, respecting this elder brother from the bottom of his heart.

Jiang Xingjian looked at the youth before him and suddenly sighed: “I’m feeling rather troubled. Would you walk with me?”

The two walked to the white jade bridge in the garden. Jiang Xingjian looked at the lotus flowers beneath the bridge and said: “These years have been hard on you.”

“Elder brother speaks too seriously.”

Jiang Xingjian turned back to see not a ripple in Jiang Yan’s eyes. He thought to himself that this concubine-born younger brother of his was either uninterested in the title, or was someone of extremely deep cunning.

Inviting him to walk together had been an impulse. Now after a couple of sentences, he had nothing more to say.

Jiang Xingjian paused slightly and brought up Song Wan.

“Yesterday that cat in your sister-in-law’s chambers was poisoned to death. She…”

“Golden Silk Tiger was poisoned to death? What happened?”

Jiang Yan’s tone rose slightly. Jiang Xingjian’s eyebrows raised lightly, as if surprised he knew the cat’s name.

“You know that cat?”

Jiang Yan lifted his eyes. His pair of jet-black pupils appeared exceptionally bright. Jiang Xingjian didn’t know why he suddenly remembered seeing him that day at Fuhe Hall—for a certain instant then, just like now, he gave off a sense of morbid, fervent incongruity. But that light in his eyes vanished in an instant, returning to normal before he could examine it closely.

“Elder brother doesn’t know—that cat was rather famous in the household, and Golden Silk Tiger was originally sent from Concubine Liu’s hands to… eldest sister-in-law’s chambers.”

Concubine Liu was Jiang Yan’s birth mother. Hearing this, Jiang Xingjian said no more.

For a moment there was silence, but Jiang Yan seemed to take interest and asked about the cat’s situation. Having no choice, Jiang Xingjian told him about Lin Jiayue accidentally injuring Golden Silk Tiger.

Though Jiang Yan listened with a gentle smile on his face, the fists behind his back clenched tighter and tighter.

She had treated Golden Silk Tiger like her own child, yet now it had been killed by that frivolous, despicable woman. Who knew how heartbroken and grief-stricken she must be.

Jiang Yan’s brows knitted, his eyes unconsciously narrowing slightly.

Jiang Xingjian thought he disapproved of Lin Jiayue’s actions. Touching his nose somewhat guiltily, he said: “Jiayue didn’t mean it. This matter was truly a misunderstanding.”

“Elder brother shouldn’t be saying this to younger brother.”

Jiang Yan pressed his lips together, as if wanting to say something but ultimately unable to open his mouth. He pondered for a moment, said “wait a moment,” and returned to Yuling Studio. Half an incense stick later, Jiang Yan came over carrying a woven bamboo basket.

“The cat in my courtyard just had kittens the other day. Elder brother could give one to sister-in-law as an apology.”

In the bamboo basket, a yellow and white cat was meowing incessantly. Though only palm-sized, the little thing had quite the lung capacity—it had been crying for a good while without stopping.

Jiang Xingjian pinched the kitten’s scruff and lifted it up: “Rather well-formed.”

Jiang Yan silently took the cat back from his hands, carefully placing it on the soft cushion in the bamboo basket, then covered it with an indigo blue square cushion.

Seeing him like this, Jiang Xingjian laughed softly: “These creatures are hardy—no need to be so careful.”

“It’s still young after all. Gentler is better.”

Handing the bamboo basket to Jiang Xingjian, Jiang Yan lowered his eyes and said: “Younger brother knows elder brother didn’t intentionally bring someone back to the household, but both publicly and privately, not half a measure of the legitimate wife’s dignity can be compromised.”

“…”

Jiang Xingjian held the still-meowing cat, momentarily speechless.

Now in the Marquis’s household, whether it was Grandmother, Mother, or even Jiang Yan, even in the eyes of the servants, he had become that sort of muddled fool who doted on concubines and neglected his wife, not knowing his priorities.

Jiang Xingjian wanted to defend himself, but after stammering for a moment couldn’t think of any forceful words to wash away this injustice.

After a long while, he could only force out from his throat in a low voice “elder brother knows what he’s about,” before carrying the bamboo basket and cat toward Lanting Courtyard.

Jiang Yan watched his retreating figure, a wave of helplessness and envy surging in his heart.

He didn’t know how much he envied Jiang Xingjian—envying both that he was born two years earlier, and that he was born into the legitimate line of the Marquis’s household.

“Second Master.”

The servant boy behind him called out softly. Jiang Yan’s expression was listless, without interest.

Over there, Jiang Xingjian carried the cat back to Lanting Courtyard. Song Wan was in the main hall negotiating with the steward’s wives. He thought for a moment and carried the bamboo basket to the study. In the study, Huai Su was organizing books on the desk. Seeing him enter with a bamboo basket, she rose to take it.

“Hold it carefully, don’t drop it.”

After a pause, he added: “Don’t let Jiayue see it.”

Huai Su nodded, carefully placing the cat on the soft couch in the study, then had Xieyi go to the small kitchen to fetch a dish of meat broth. It wasn’t until dinner time that evening that those women gradually left Lanting Courtyard.

Jiang Xingjian carried the kitten that had eaten its fill and was now sleeping soundly sprawled on its back, striding toward the main house of Lanting Courtyard.

“The Master has arrived.”

The woman watching outside announced to those inside. The second-rank maids in the second hall heard this and went to find Heng Zhi and Heng Wu. By the time Jiang Xingjian walked into the room, Song Wan had already changed her outer robe and stood before their bedchamber to greet him.

Jiang Xingjian’s eyes swept over the full account books on the writing desk and the scattered abacus on the table, frowning: “Are there problems with the household accounts?”

“They’re not very good. If Husband has no other business, after dining we can look at them together.”

Jiang Xingjian nodded, casually telling the maids in the room to set out the meal—he would eat here.

While waiting for the meal, Jiang Xingjian handed the bamboo basket to Song Wan: “This cat… I also bear responsibility for Golden Silk Tiger being poisoned. This cat is my gift to you as compensation.”

Having guilt in his heart, his confidence was diminished by thirty percent.

Somewhat stiffly holding the bamboo basket, Song Wan gently lifted the soft covering on top.

She saw the fluffy little creature inside sleeping soundly, its exposed belly and tender little paws sprawled straight across the soft cushion. Seeing this, Song Wan showed no sign of happiness. Instead, her nose stung as she thought of Golden Silk Tiger.

This kitten looked exactly like Golden Silk Tiger had as a youngster.

Song Wan extended a finger and gently poked its belly, then felt the cushion beneath the cat.

The soft cushion was made of indigo blue Shu brocade. Shu brocade wasn’t particularly precious, but the light-colored hidden pattern on this fabric had some significance—it was the pearl-circled peacock pattern that Jiang Xing from the second branch had designed some days ago. At the time when the embroidery room wove it, they had also sent her a bolt of plain fabric. She had Heng Wu return a filigree silver jewelry box inlaid with precious stones and pearls.

Only she and Jiang Yan kept cats in the household. This cat was sent by Jiang Yan.