Chapter 20

In the eight-hundred-year history of the Jian clan, there had been only three husbands of princesses and merely four empresses. The family was better known for its dukes, marquises, and prime ministers. Princess Yiyang’s impulsive gesture cast a shadow of profound displeasure over the Duke of Anguo’s eyes, which prompted the Third Prince to speak up and stop her.

At that moment, her hand was reaching toward Jian Xun, trying to touch his sleeve. Whenever she tugged at her mother’s fragrant sleeve and acted spoiled, she would immediately receive doting attention. Would the same tactic work on this ethereal young master?

Yiyang, harboring such a bold thought, did not expect to be interrupted halfway.

Jian Xun felt a surge of repulsion, though his expression remained unchanged. He stepped forward and paid his respects to the Third Prince and his great-uncle in turn.

"This refined and otherworldly young master must be the promising descendant the Duke of Anguo holds in such high regard," the Third Prince said with a warm smile. "Pray, stand on ceremony. It is merely Yiyang being mischievous and willful; I hope Young Master Jian will forgive her."

"My thanks to Your Highness for the intercession," Jian Xun replied.

He thanked him for the intercession rather than saying he dared not find the princess laughable. The Third Prince curled his lips; in the entire capital, besides the Jian family, there was likely no one who would refuse such a heaven-sent opportunity for wealth and status.

Yiyang felt a flicker of embarrassment, annoyed at her momentary lapse of reason. She was not usually so headstrong. With this thought, she cast a worried glance at Jian Xun, the man who had mesmerized her for half her life.

Jian Xun did not offer even a sliver of acknowledgment. To him, she was something to be avoided like a venomous snake.

After seeing the Third Prince off, the Duke of Anguo questioned Jian Xun about the incident. With his hands behind his back, he said sternly, "Today was an accident. Such a person shall not appear in this manor again." He paused, then added significantly, "Your appearance is extraordinary. Before you enter officialdom, it is best not to associate with royalty."

Jian Xun’s expression was solemn as he bowed. "Yes, I shall keep that in mind, Great-uncle."

Yet, his calm heart was already surging with gloom. Jian Xun had always admired women who were self-disciplined, courteous, and elegant. Even Mei Niang, who lacked proper training, was innocent, self-respecting, and modest. However, the incident with Yiyang served as a reminder to him—and to the Duke of Anguo.

After sitting in the study for nearly half an incense stick’s time, Jian Xun bowed and took his leave. The Duke nodded, frowning as he sat in silence, lost in deep thought.

Back in his quarters, Jian Xun bathed, changed his clothes, and ate his evening meal with composure. A follower of the Taoist school, he placed great importance on cultivating his inner energy; his dinner was not only light but also never eaten to satiety. Seeing that he had clearly made up his mind since leaving the study, Wen Liang stopped mentioning the unpleasant event.

In the blink of an eye, the Summer Solstice had passed, and the mid-summer dog days were upon them. In Zehe, even the tenant farmers would not venture out at noon; it was simply too hot. A plate of bitter melon appeared on Huang Shiyou’s table from time to time, as Master Huang believed that eating bitterness in summer was the only way to dispel the heat.

Despite the scorching weather outside, life at home was bearable. With lush green shade and cool bamboo mats, Huang Shiyou wore only her trousers and camisole to paint, feeling not the slightest bit of heat. Amber said it was because "a calm heart brings natural coolness." Whenever she painted, she could focus with such singular devotion that she forgot her surroundings entirely. She had already wasted more than half of her newly purchased Xuan paper. Though she felt the sting of the cost, she could not give it up. As for adding color, she dared not even imagine it, so she stuck to ink wash.

Amber, quite far-sighted, suggested, "Second Miss, I have had the fortune to see several famous paintings. Most of them have calligraphy inscribed on them, and the artists’ handwriting is often more beautiful than that of most scholars. It shows that calligraphy and painting complement each other. You must not slack off on your practice."

That made sense, so Huang Shiyou added ten more sheets of calligraphy practice to her daily quota. Her writing grew more refined, and her paintings gained more spirit. She found herself missing the Sweet Water Shop and longing for the beginning of autumn, if only because being at home meant she had to keep one ear cocked to guard against a surprise visit from her younger brother’s wet nurse.

Mrs. Huang now dreamt often—and the dreams were never the same. For instance, she dreamt that Jian Xun happened upon Qing Niang and, struck by her beauty, immediately took her home as a pampered concubine, with whom he had three sons. Jian Xun, loving the house and all its inhabitants, even brought Yaozu into the Jian clan school... there was nothing she dared not dream, including dreams where Qing Niang was elevated to be Jian Xun’s primary wife.

She used to be timid, but now she had become far too bold. Mrs. Huang frequently urged the wet nurse to bring Yaozu close to Huang Shiyou to "strengthen their bond." Little did she know that some feelings are deep without being forced. In Huang Shiyou’s eyes, while it was a pity she couldn't do what she loved, playing with her brother wasn't a bad thing.

Compared to Yaozu’s closeness, there was a quiet coldness between Qing Niang and Huang Shiyou. Logically, the blood ties between them were no different. This was hard to explain in a few words; if asked, Huang Shiyou could only offer two terms: envy and indifference.

She envied Qing Niang for being able to eat longans. Mrs. Huang would peel them by hand—round, translucent, and fragrant—and Qing Niang would chew them slowly before spitting out the black pits. If she grew tired of them, she would toss them one by one into the rain barrel, pretending not to see the expectation in Huang Shiyou’s eyes.

Qing Niang’s indifference was even more disheartening. Whenever Mrs. Huang flew into a rage and used the family discipline, Qing Niang would sit nearby, nibbling on a sweet cake, watching calmly as the cane left crimson welts on Huang Shiyou’s calves, her expression never wavering. She was nothing like Yaozu, who couldn't bear to hear Mrs. Huang raise her voice at his second sister, always crying and hugging Mrs. Huang’s legs, shouting, "Don't hit, don't hit!" Huang Wanqing’s response was usually to set down her cake and silently carry the troublesome Yaozu away.

Now, with the incident involving Li Fugui, Huang Wanqing felt guilty and grew even more distant from Huang Shiyou. Distance was the only way to prevent Li Fugui from seeing Huang Shiyou in person. Any look of wonder or regret on that man’s face would be a humiliation Huang Wanqing could not bear.

Yet, Mrs. Huang pulled Huang Wanqing into the inner chamber for a private talk. Huang Wanqing looked reluctant. "She has always been indifferent to me. I don’t want to lower myself to curry favor with her."

Mrs. Huang scolded her, "I have spoiled you into losing all sense of proportion. Now you don't even listen to me? Do you wish to taste the cane yourself?"

"Mother, have you taken the wrong medicine?" Qing Niang had never been spoken to with such harshness. "I find myself understanding you less and less. Between me and Mei Niang, who is actually your own daughter?"

Mrs. Huang wanted to slap her, but swallowed the words. "If you weren't my own, why would I be so calculated and heart-broken on your behalf? Just listen to your mother and spend more time with Mei Niang."

In a few days, Young Master Jian would be returning from the capital. After such a long separation, he would surely be eager to see Mei Niang. Mrs. Huang could then seize the opportunity to arrange an "accidental encounter" between Jian Xun and Qing Niang. Although Qing Niang’s beauty was slightly inferior to Mei Niang’s, no man could resist something fresh. How could he not feel a sense of protectiveness toward the delicate and fragile Qing Niang? If the Huang family was willing to offer both beauties, any normal man would naturally play the fool and accept them.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Huang could not speak of these dark schemes to anyone; she had to advance them in secret.

That day, Master Huang sent word for Huang Shiyou to see him in the study. Huang Shiyou put on her long robe and silk trousers before heading to the front courtyard. It was not easy for women to leave their chambers in the summer, unlike men who could walk around shirtless.

Master Huang had originally intended to keep Huang Shiyou at home to await marriage, no longer allowing her to go to the Sweet Water Shop, and had even consulted Yunzhang on the matter. Unexpectedly, Yunzhang hesitated for a moment before generously saying, "This matter should be decided by Mei Niang herself. I hope you will grant her more freedom, Teacher."

Master Huang was secretly astonished. With Yunzhang’s return date approaching, he had summoned Mei Niang to ask her, only to find that she had chosen to go to the Sweet Water Shop. Master Huang understood the young couple less and less, so he said sternly, "Very well. If you go, your mother will worry that you have no one to help you at the shop, so she has specifically instructed Amber to stay by your side." He hinted earnestly, "Even as a stepmother, she has shown her intent; you should appreciate it."

Huang Shiyou pulled the corners of her mouth into a smile.

"Yunzhang’s return is near. His situation is always unique; his return to the academy is different from others. It is a coincidence that he can give you a ride. Pack your things; traveling with him is much more spacious than the family mule cart." Master Huang looked at the bookshelf behind her as he spoke.

"Is that appropriate? My sisters have taught me that it is not proper to ride with a man..." Huang Shiyou feared being gossiped about, leading to a situation where she would be forced to marry and Jian Xun would be forced to take her. That would be unfair to both of them.

Master Huang scolded, "What mule carts are there in the countryside? Many people share rides. If your conscience is clear, why be so timid?"

This was true; who didn't borrow or share rides when needed? She only feared the frequency of it. Since she and Jian Xun rarely saw each other, they were far from "frequent." Thinking of Jian Xun’s comfortable carriage, Huang Shiyou wavered.

Master Huang set down his teacup. "You have Amber and Liu’er with you, and I trust Yunzhang’s character. If you do not wish to, you may drive the mule cart yourself..."

"I am willing, I am willing," Huang Shiyou said quickly. She would have to be insane to squeeze into a mule cart in such weather.

After returning, Amber heard the arrangements and agreed, taking Liu’er to pack without a word. She dared not object; it was not her place to speak after the master had spoken. Furthermore, she still trembled whenever she recalled Jian Xun’s cold gaze that day. She had prepared herself to be dismissed, but never expected that by going against the young master’s wishes, she would not only avoid the master’s wrath but also be allowed to stay with the Second Miss forever.

Amber had indeed displeased Jian Xun, but she was the most capable maid by Huang Shiyou’s side, and he had to grant her some face. Most importantly, she taught Mei Niang to be self-respecting and to understand propriety. Privately, he longed for Mei Niang to be fawning and compliant, but he knew that was wrong. Mei Niang was a young girl; it was right for her to be cautious of men. Once they were married, she would realize she didn't need to guard against him.

Jian Xun had never experienced intimacy. As the thought of "consummation" flashed through his mind, his cheeks burned as if they were on fire. He couldn't help but imagine Mei Niang lying before him, her shy expression surely lovely, timid, and nervous. He blinked, trying to calm his mind, and returned to his studies.

Since moving into Qi Garden, Jian Xun had observed the rock arrangements with care. The garden possessed the marvelous ability to "move the heavens and shrink the earth," transplanting mountains and peaks into the scenery. He etched these scenes into his memory, and when he finished his daily studies late at night, he would take up his brush to depict them.

For every painting he finished, he would write a poem on the facing page and affix his small square seal. He was already skilled at painting landscapes, birds, and trees; his works were seamless, with no visible brushstrokes. He used the finest azurite and malachite pigments on the highest quality double-silk fabric, hoping to make up for Mei Niang’s regret over not having the *Collected Works of Wen Gong*. That volume was the only existing copy in the possession of the head of the Huashan Academy, who would rather die than sell it.

And so, balancing his studies with painting, he worked with infinite patience. As the day to return to Zehe approached, he had accumulated twelve paintings and twelve poems, which he bound into an album titled *Scenes of Qi Garden*.

Jian Xun sat under the candlelight, flexing his wrists and shoulders, admiring the hand-painted silk album and imagining Mei Niang’s surprise. In his pride, a trace of melancholy emerged. This fawning behavior inevitably diminished a man’s dignity. But upon reflection, a husband’s dignity should be shown through responsibility and breadth of mind; why fret over the diversions of the boudoir?