"Elated and carried away."
The brocade box was exquisite, and within it lay a book—the Admonitions for Women.
Wen Jiao gritted her teeth and picked up the book, noticing a page with a folded corner. She opened it and saw written there: "Choose your words before speaking; utter no malicious language."
Below was a detailed explanation, essentially stating that women should not pursue eloquence or clever speech, should avoid bringing disaster through excessive talk, must speak with propriety, neither slandering others nor indulging in frivolous jesting.
This sort of book exhorting women to be obedient and virtuous was something Wen Jiao never touched, yet Song Langyu had brought it for her to study—it was truly grating. She was about to toss the book back into the box when she saw there was something else inside.
She took it out and saw it was the handkerchief that Liu Yuqing had taken away.
Wen Jiao threw both items back into the brocade box and had her maidservant take it out to discard. But fearing Song Langyu might quiz her on it later, she hastily called the maidservant back and shoved the box under her bed to gather dust.
Song Langyu had sent the Admonitions for Women for two reasons: first, to caution her against fabricating accusations and spreading slander in the future; second, because Wen Jiao's conduct was indeed lacking in propriety, and he hoped she would read the book, reflect on herself, and correct her ways.
The next day, Song Langyu found seven or eight clerks with keen senses of smell in the Ministry of Justice, but none of them could detect the scent of the Dew-Stamen Lotus. He then searched within the Court of Judicial Review, but those men sniffed around and could not say anything definitive either.
"He Gui, someone with an exceptionally keen sense of smell cannot be found at once, but this case truly cannot wait any longer. Whoever it was who previously detected the scent of the Dew-Stamen Lotus—just call them here. I will not let them work for nothing; I'll give them a generous red envelope. Please, just bring the person to help." Sun Chengyuan, the Minister of Justice, paced back and forth like an ant on a hot pan.
Fearing that Sun Chengyuan might misunderstand, Song Langyu had no choice but to tell the truth: "It is not because of compensation that I have not called her. To be frank with you, Lord Sun, that person is my distant cousin. She is not yet married, and it would truly be inconvenient for her to accompany me in and out while investigating the case."
"Ah, ah, ah! Then what are we to do!" Sun Chengyuan, nearly forty years old and stout of build, was now sweating profusely from anxiety. "Three wives of officials have died within a month, and who knows whether more will meet unjust deaths afterward. I am truly terrified and unable to rest easy!"
Song Langyu also understood the gravity of the situation and hesitated for a moment.
Sun Chengyuan patted his arm and leaned in to persuade him: "He Gui, your cousin doesn't need to do anything—just smell the scent. If you're worried about her reputation, we'll keep the doors and windows shut when she comes, with our own people standing guard outside. No one will spread word of this. How about that?"
The case was urgent, and no suitable person could be found at the moment, so Song Langyu had no choice but to agree.
The carriage sent to fetch Wen Jiao returned quickly. It entered through the back gate and went straight into the rear courtyard. The curtain was lifted, and Wen Jiao, wearing a veiled hat, stepped down from the carriage. She lifted a corner of the light veil, her brows curved in a smile, and asked cheerfully, "Cousin, what business do you have with me?"
Sun Chengyuan silently praised her fine appearance, then stepped forward with a smile and said, "Miss Wen, it is I who have a request to make. I hope you can help."
Wen Jiao blinked and asked playfully, "What help does Your Excellency need from me?"
Sun Chengyuan explained the matter in detail and entreated her: "If this case cannot be thoroughly investigated, I fear more officials' wives will come to harm. I hope Miss Wen will act with righteousness and lend your assistance."
"I would like to help…" Wen Jiao seemed somewhat reluctant, pressing her lips together as she pulled out a copy of Admonitions for Women from her bosom. "It's just that yesterday, Cousin gave me this book, and it says that women should not show their faces in public. Even if I agreed to help you, sir, I'm afraid Cousin wouldn't allow it!"
Sun Chengyuan looked at Song Langyu: "Hegui, what do you think about this…"
Song Langyu coughed once: "This case concerns multiple lives, and it is indeed urgent. You only need to identify which items carry the scent of Dew-Stamen Lotus."
"Since Cousin has permitted it, I'll help with this matter." Wen Jiao said with a smile, stuffing the Admonitions for Women into Song Langyu's hands, and added playfully, "I'll return the book to Cousin for now. I'll study it carefully another day."
Song Langyu knew Wen Jiao was mocking him for changing his mind so quickly, but with Sun Chengyuan present, he couldn't scold her. Still, he thought her sharp-tongued and lacking the quiet virtue expected of a woman.
On the long table before Wen Jiao sat three boxes, each labeled with a name: Madam Wang, Lady Feng, and Lady Bai.
Song Langyu opened Lady Feng's box and said, "Lady Feng, wife of the Deputy Commander of the Palace Guard, poisoned herself with gouwen. These are the items she used in her lifetime."
Wen Jiao took out a handkerchief from the box and smelled it carefully, then removed all the clothing inside and examined it thoroughly before reporting truthfully, "Cousin, these clothes seem to have been kept in a damp place for some time. The musty smell is quite strong, but I can detect the scent of Dew-Stamen Lotus on them as well."
"What a keen nose!" Sun Chengyuan clapped his hands in praise. "These items of Lady Feng's were indeed found in the storeroom."
Wen Jiao's lips curved into a smile as she looked up at Song Langyu, as if waiting for his praise. But Song Langyu wore a deadpan expression, simply opening Lady Bai's box.
Wen Jiao let out an indignant huff and proceeded to examine Lady Bai's belongings. This time, the scent of Dew-Stamen Lotus was even stronger, and she reported this truthfully to the two men.
The rest of the investigation no longer required Wen Jiao's help. She had a cup of tea in the next room before Song Langyu came to fetch her. Sun Chengyuan escorted the two out through the back door, clasping his hands in a bow: "I thank Miss Wen for her generous assistance in this matter. I will surely prepare a handsome gift of gratitude afterward."
The young woman smiled, revealing two small dimples: "It was merely a trivial effort. No need for thanks."
On the carriage ride back to the residence, Wen Jiao was in good spirits. First she asked what kind of official the Deputy Commander of the Palace Guard was, and whether he outranked the Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.
Then she hummed a little tune, her legs dangling and swinging in the air. Seeing that Song Langyu never responded, she finally couldn't hold back and asked, "Cousin, Officer Sun praised my keen nose and said I was a great help!"
"Carried away by your own success."
Wen Jiao let out a cold snort of anger and turned her head away from Song Langyu.
But he said, "Whenever you come and go from the Ministry of Justice, you ride in my carriage. Keep your veiled hat on."
Song Langyu was strikingly handsome, bearing the refined dignity of one long accustomed to high position, his demeanor elegant and composed. Even now, sitting in the swaying carriage, his back and shoulders remained straight.
Wen Jiao suddenly felt a dark, mischievous urge—a desire to tear off Song Langyu's mask of upright propriety.
She leaned in closer and asked innocently, "Cousin, won't you tell Aunt either?"
"Fixed rules cannot handle changing circumstances; a single path cannot suit all situations; carving a mark on a boat cannot find a fallen sword.¹ This matter differs from Liu Yuqing's case, so it naturally calls for a different approach." Song Langyu knew Wen Jiao was deliberately pressing him, yet he showed no irritation, speaking at an even pace, utterly unruffled.
Wen Jiao roughly understood what he meant, but felt that Song Langyu was being sophistical. She couldn't think of a rebuttal on the spot, and could only resent her own lack of learning. Feeling aggrieved, she turned her head away and ignored him.
They soon returned to the Duke's mansion. Wen Jiao was the first to step down from the carriage and was about to enter when she heard someone call her name.
A carriage stopped at the gate, and a young woman with delicate, handsome features stepped down. Wen Jiao's eyes lit up, and she lifted her skirts and ran over, embracing the girl with delighted surprise: "Cousin, you're finally back!"
This young woman was none other than Madam Wu's daughter, Song Langyu's younger sister—Song Xiangyu.
"Jiaojiao!" Song Xiangyu was equally delighted. "After Aunt's birthday celebration, she kept me for a few more days, which is why I'm back so late."
Song Langyu's expression softened a few degrees. "Was the journey smooth?"
"Smooth enough, though we ran into a heavy snowstorm and were delayed at an inn for a few days…"
"Sister Song." An extremely soft female voice interrupted their conversation.
Wen Jiao followed the sound and saw a slender, pale young woman standing not far away.
Song Xiangyu was momentarily taken aback before recognizing the woman as Zhong Hui, whose father was a Grand Master of the Court of Sacrificial Worship. They had only met twice at poetry gatherings and had exchanged barely a few words. Wondering why she had come, Song Xiangyu walked over with puzzlement, though her tone was warm: "Sister Zhong, what brings you here?"
Zhong Hui's gaze flickered toward Song Langyu but immediately withdrew. She took a brocade box from her maidservant and handed it to Song Xiangyu, saying:
"At the Winter Solstice poetry gathering last time, I found your poetry to carry a rather expansive, far-reaching quality. These past few days, seeing the spring scenery by the lake stirred my heart, and I composed two poems as well. I've made a special trip to deliver them for you to look over—please do offer your critique and guidance."
Song Xiangyu was lively by nature and only attended poetry gatherings to make up the numbers, composing her verses off the cuff. Having Zhong Hui go out of her way to deliver poems to her struck her as utterly baffling, but she still had her maidservant accept the brocade box and replied politely: "I wouldn't presume to offer guidance. Another day, when I have some leisure, I'll invite you to enjoy poetry together."
Having traveled for days on end, Song Xiangyu had no interest in discussing poetry at the moment, so she didn't invite Zhong Hui inside.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Zhong Hui's face, but it quickly returned to normal. She curtsied to Song Langyu, took her leave of Song Xiangyu, and boarded her carriage.
The three entered the mansion, and Song Langyu went first to pay his respects to Madam Wu, while Wen Jiao accompanied Song Xiangyu back to her courtyard. Looking at the brocade box Zhong Hui had given, Wen Jiao asked curiously: "What did that young lady give you?"
"She said they were two newly composed poems. I don't care much for poetry myself—I don't know why she sent them to me. Help me see what they say?" Song Xiangyu gulped down a mouthful of tea and had her maidservant help her change clothes.
Wen Jiao took out the two sheets of patterned stationery from the box and examined them closely. She could tell they had been written with considerable effort, but the craftsmanship was too deliberate—the expansive, far-reaching mood was clearly manufactured.
Neither of them paid it much mind. Song Xiangyu launched into tales of her journey, and Wen Jiao listened attentively, chiming in now and then.
A brazier had been lit in the room, and Wen Jiao was wearing heavy layers. A fine sheen of sweat had formed on her forehead, so she casually fanned herself with the two sheets of paper.
Suddenly, she caught a wisp of a faint, elusive fragrance—it was the scent of the Dew-Stamen Lotus!
Clutching the two sheets of paper, Wen Jiao hurried out the door, leaving Song Xiangyu calling after her from inside the room: "Hey, hey! Jiaojiao, where are you going!"
The Calamus Courtyard remained cold and austere as ever.
The maidservant Yingliu stepped forward and said softly: "Miss Wen, is something the matter?"
"I have urgent business with my eldest cousin. I'd trouble you to announce me."
"The heir is in the study. Miss Wen, please follow me."
Wen Jiao followed Yingliu through the corridor, noticing the swaying tree shadows that resembled ghostly figures, somewhat unsettling.
The study's lamp was lit. Yingliu knocked and entered to announce their arrival, then Wen Jiao stepped inside.
Passing through the folding screen, she saw Song Langyu seated behind the desk.
"Have you remembered something else?" He set down the scroll he was reading and looked up.
Wen Jiao stepped forward, offering the two sheets of gold-flecked paper in her hand, and said, "Cousin, take a whiff."
She had hurried over, sweat beading at her temples, her skin like lychee flesh chilled in ice. Now that they stood close, the fruity honeyed fragrance emanating from her drifted toward him.