Yingluo did not talk back. The head of the family had given instructions: the Second Young Miss’s behavior sometimes deviated from the righteous path, and there would be times when she acted impulsively without regard for consequences. If the Second Young Miss felt wronged, she should be handled with careful consolation, and she must strictly avoid adding fuel to the fire or instigating her to expose the truth of the proxy marriage.
The Shen family would step up their search for Shen Meizhuang, concluding that only a few days had passed, and that she and Liu Xu could not have run very far. Even so, immediately apprehending Shen Meizhuang—who had eloped and was usually quite resourceful—was no easy task.
The suggestion from the Shen family side to Shen Lizhuang was to first steady the Prince of Jing, and when the timing matured, voluntarily request to step down from her position as wife.
As for voluntarily requesting to step down, if there was no fault on her part, the Manor might not necessarily consent. Lin Ruoxi had also issued secret instructions behind the scenes.
Nothing in the world was harder to get along with than a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. The Prince of Jing was a famously filial son who served the Consort Dowager with the utmost devotion and filial piety. Should his wife and mother become as incompatible as fire and water—forcing him to choose one over the other—the Prince of Jing would certainly fly into a rage, divorce her, and remarry. Therefore, Shen Lizhuang only needed to “offend” Consort Dowager Yun moderately. Once the relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law soured, the subsequent play would be easy to stage.
That was what was said, but as for whether to listen, Shen Lizhuang wanted to decide for herself.
After all, Consort Dowager Yun was a gentle and beautiful woman. Anyone who saw her would feel pity—how could one possibly generate resentment toward her?
After washing, changing clothes, and drying her dark hair, Shen Lizhuang prepared to retire for the night. That evening, the Prince of Jing indeed did not return, and she slept very soundly. It was the most steady and peaceful night she had experienced since the exposure of Li Ruozhi’s fake identity, so long-absent that she wasn’t even accustomed to it.
Shen Lizhuang had a dream.
In the dream, her fake identity was not exposed, and Li Ruozhi smoothly entered the Tribute Hall and successfully participated in the examinations.
However, her papers were masked, and a superior accidentally spilled pear syrup on them. The fluttering, phoenix-like handwriting on the examination paper was blurred by moisture over more than a hundred characters and could no longer be read. On the day the examination results were posted, she failed to make the list, just as expected.
Failing the exam in the dream also stirred up the inner bitterness and frustration, and out-of-control emotions flooded her chest, swelling until it was painful and unbearable.
Shen Lizhuang woke up abruptly from the dream. The sky was already bright, and she sat up, hugging her quilt.
Yingluo and Zhuji were waiting neatly by the bedside, just like they had on the second morning after she drank the clearing-heart tea. “Princess, please attend to your washing and dressing.”
Oh. Today required paying respects once again.
The thought of being able to see the Consort Dowager instantly brightened Shen Lizhuang’s mood, sweeping away the sour gloom of the dream entirely.
To see Consort Dowager Yun, she specifically changed into a newly tailored gauze robe—a jade, red, and cyan damask embroidered tunic, finely paved with many golden sweet-osmanthus patterns, tied at the waist with a colorful-ribboned, cassia-leaf, grape-patterned pleated skirt. It made her eyes ripple and her glances beam with spirited vitality.
Before arriving at Consort Dowager Yun’s Wangjiang Courtyard, Shen Lizhuang checked herself from head to toe once more and straightened her attire, fearing that even a shred of imperfection might show disrespect to the Consort Dowager.
Yingluo did not remind Shen Lizhuang. She had inquired about Consort Dowager Yun’s preferences: Consort Dowager Yun loved plainness, elegance, and disliked extravagance and luxury. Shen Lizhuang’s outfit today stepped entirely upon Consort Dowager Yun’s points of aversion and would naturally invite the Consort Dowager’s dissatisfaction and resentment. The more the Second Young Miss looked into the mirror and made herself up grandly, the more Consort Dowager Yun would inwardly feel that Shen Lizhuang was frivolous and shallow.
However, Yingluo’s gaze peered slightly ahead toward the front hall. Up top, Consort Dowager Yun looked affable, a morbid flush hanging over her pale, delicate face, and her eyes gazed at Shen Lizhuang like water. Not a shred of impatience or disdain could be seen.
She extended her hand toward Shen Lizhuang, led her to sit beside her, and her eyes were full of amazement. “This outfit makes your face look like a hibiscus—it’s very beautiful. Sweet-osmanthus patterned silk is rare; was it made at the fold-dyeing shop in the Southern City?”
Shen Lizhuang answered that it was, and asked if the Consort Dowager would like some so she could order a few more sets. “With looks like the Consort Dowager’s, resembling a divine goddess or immortal, you should cut even more new, beautiful clothes. For us to look at them is a feast for the eyes, and it also adds to your stock of good karma, helping to pray that your sacred body quickly returns to health.”
Consort Dowager Yun patted her back and jokingly said her mouth was sweet, asking how someone whose looks had faded like hers could need new clothes. Besides, she was ill—too ill to step outside—so what was the point of wearing such things? Simplicity actually made one look more spirited.
The skin she stroked with her palm was smooth and unhindered. Consort Dowager Yun lowered her eyes. “Why aren’t you wearing the bracelet I gave you?”
“The bracelet is precious,” Shen Lizhuang’s eyes flickered, “and I didn’t dare wear it.”
That bracelet belonged to the “Meizhuang” the Consort Dowager spoke of; it did not belong to her.
Since it wasn’t hers, how could she wear it on her person every day?
Consort Dowager Yun frowned slightly, using a handkerchief to cover a few soft coughs.
Nearby, the attending Madam Zhou stroked the Consort Dowager’s back—which was as thin as plain Xuan paper—and said to Shen Lizhuang, who was looking over with an expression of worried concern: “Her Ladyship the Consort Dowager is unwell. Even if only to make the Consort Dowager a bit happier, the Princess ought to have worn the bracelet given by the Consort Dowager.”
Shen Lizhuang heard the tone of interrogation in Madam Zhou’s words, as if she despised the bracelet for not being pleasing to the eye. Not daring to think that way at all, she hurriedly said, “May I wear it tomorrow? Today it truly was too late. Consort Dowager, how are you feeling?”
Consort Dowager Yun smiled and said Madam Zhou was making a mountain out of a molehill. “Whether you wear it or not is fine. I gave it to you, so it’s entirely up to your own liking. That bracelet is an heirloom from my maiden family; although somewhat precious, after all, it is too old and doesn’t match today’s popular styles. In the future, Heqing will send you more. You can pick and choose from the jewelry he gives you to wear—seeing that will make me even happier.”
A trace of inexplicable guilt welled up in Shen Lizhuang’s heart, making it somewhat difficult for her to face Consort Dowager Yun’s clear, limpid gaze.
“I haven’t asked you yet: do you have any hobbies in your daily life?” Consort Dowager Yun asked warmly.
Shen Lizhuang answered off the cuff: “I like reading books.”
Consort Dowager Yun was not very surprised; she nodded and said to Madam Zhou, “Split off a key to my study and give it to the Princess.”
Before Madam Zhou could reply, Consort Dowager Yun continued, “Ever since I fell ill, I’ve rarely visited the study. The bookshelves must have accumulated dust, and leaving them empty is a waste. It is admirable that the Princess has such refined tastes.”
Madam Zhou curtsied in compliance.
Consort Dowager Yun smiled at Shen Lizhuang, whose surprise and joy could not be concealed on her face, and said gently, “Rest assured, they are all proper collections of books.”
Shen Lizhuang was pleasantly surprised. “The Consort Dowager is also someone who loves books?”
Consort Dowager Yun’s smile was clear and bright. “That’s right. Heqing’s poetry and scholarly learning were also taught by me.”
She was too gentle. Shen Lizhuang deeply envied the Prince of Jing for having such a gentle mother. Past the age of twenty, he could still enjoy family ties with his mother.
Her own mother had also been very gentle, but alas, heaven did not grant her many years, and she passed away when Shen Lizhuang was very young. Shen Lizhuang’s impression of her mother seemed limited to a pair of forever warm and rough hands, with the palms holding her little face and giving a rough, sandy feeling.
“Consort Dowager, you are a fairy mother.”
Looking at Consort Dowager Yun’s snow-white, translucent, and sickly delicate countenance, she muttered as if in a daze.
Consort Dowager Yun’s expression cleared. She covered her smiling lips and signaled Madam Zhou to go fetch the key promptly.
Her illness had settled into her body and seeped into her bone marrow; she knew herself that she did not have many days left. At the final moment before letting go of the mortal world, her greatest regret was that Heqing would be left lonely afterwards. Yet he had taken a wife and found someone so fitting and pleasing to accompany him. When her time came, she could depart with dignity and a measure of peace.
Now, all she could do was treat his wife as well as she possibly could. Even though this Princess—whose eyes were full of a yearning for freedom and who retained a trace of a young girl’s so-called “wildness”—could not yet let go of him in her heart, as long as she could remember one or two points of kindness from her mother-in-law, perhaps she could show a bit more tolerance toward her arrogant son.
Shen Lizhuang was unaware of Consort Dowager Yun’s intentions, but hearing that she could read books, her heart was already satisfied.
After receiving the key from Madam Zhou and guided by her, she stepped happily into Consort Dowager Yun’s study in the Wangjiang Courtyard.
Once the sealed door was opened, a long-accumulated, surging wave of book fragrance rushed over her. Shen Lizhuang felt as though she had entered a mountain of books and a sea of literature. Looking at the vast collections of books crowding the shelves, she hardly knew where to step, filled with a joyful, pleasantly startled awe as her tiptoes carefully ventured inside.
Madam Zhou wrinkled her nose at the dust mixed into the piercing aroma of books, stepped behind Shen Lizhuang, and said, “Princess, the key.”
Shen Lizhuang hurriedly took down the key and tucked it into her bosom to prevent losing it.
Although the study had been left vacant and cleaning wasn’t frequent, the accumulated dust wasn’t too severe. She was more than happy to have such a study in the Manor where she could take and read books at will.
Back at the Shen family home, her father did not allow girls to read too many books. After teaching some rudimentary introductory literature, he only purchased books intended for women for her. Those books didn’t interest her; she preferred reading history and classics, as well as all sorts of bizarre tales and unorthodox arts.
Wracking her brains and finding every possible way to sneak use of her elder sister’s private study, she finally had the opportunity to come into contact with broader and more profound knowledge. Those were her spiritual food, and like a greedy field mouse diving into a rice bin, she gnawed on her bookish rations.
Still, compared to the Consort Dowager’s rice bin in the Manor, her elder sister’s was a bit too narrow. Only upon entering Consort Dowager Yun’s study did she truly understand what it meant to be among the clouds. Just as Consort Dowager Yun had said, the book collection here was abundant, ranging from the Four Books and Five Classics to agriculture, water conservancy, tea cultivation, weaving, and salt extraction, among all sorts of other subjects.
And these subjects, which in the eyes of many were “unorthodox side paths,” were considered proper and readable to Consort Dowager Yun, so she had carefully classified and treasured them. Truly, she was a woman with a broad mind and inclusive tolerance. Her gentleness seemed to stem from this gentle, flowing current of literary spirit, carrying the flavor of “having recognized the greatness of the universe, yet still feeling pity for the green grass and trees.”
Shen Lizhuang read from noon until the hour of the evening meal, completely unaware of how much time had passed, and remained immersed in the study, unwilling to come out.
Worried that she would starve herself, Consort Dowager Yun sent Madam Zhou to call her to have dinner together right there in the Wangjiang Courtyard.
Only when summoned by the master of the study did Shen Lizhuang finally snap out of her state of forgetting food and sleep. With a bashful flush, she tore her attention away from the Detailed Commentary on the Classic of Water, and returned to the Wangjiang Courtyard with Madam Zhou.
Consort Dowager Yun called Shen Lizhuang to dine alone with her, showing her the utmost care. This made Yingluo purse her lips slightly, wishing to remind the Second Young Miss, but she found no opportunity to speak.
After the dishes were served, only Consort Dowager Yun and Shen Lizhuang remained in the room.
Consort Dowager Yun asked in detail what books she had read today, and Shen Lizhuang answered every single one truthfully. Watching the junior speak eloquently and in detail, Consort Dowager Yun’s eyes flickered.
She suddenly couldn’t help but ask softly, “May I address you by your childhood style name? What is your style name?”
“My style name is Jiaojiao.” Shen Lizhuang was fluently answering questions regarding the contents of the Detailed Commentary on the Classic of Water when she blurted it out without thinking.
As soon as she finished speaking, Shen Lizhuang froze at the edges of her brows and mechanically halted her reckless mouth. Striving to suppress the annoyance of trouble escaping from her lips, she pretended nothing had happened and lowered her gaze to look at the exquisite delicacies on the table.