Not to mention, the leather-bound jade-decorated belt that Yan’er and Zhao Si fastened around her added an air of valor and martial prowess to Zhao Si.
“Ying’er, do we have any full-length bronze mirrors in this room?” Zhao Si felt and looked herself over, filled with intense curiosity.
At her command, Ying’er immediately led Zhao Si to a full-length bronze mirror.
The reflection in the mirror was hazy, and Zhao Si carefully studied it for a moment, inexplicably feeling that the face in the mirror was not all that familiar—as if she was not supposed to look like this at all.
However, apart from appearing slightly rugged, this face in the mirror could still be considered middle-of-the-road in terms of appearance.
Yet, thinking of Yun Qing’s breathtaking beauty, Zhao Si couldn’t help but sigh: judging by this face alone, she fell far, far short of Yun Qing.
Fortunately, not everyone in this world possessed the peerless looks of Yun Qing.
After consoling herself for a while, Zhao Si lowered her gaze and cast a sneaky glance at Ying’er.
When Zhao Si first met Ying’er yesterday, Ying’er had simply been wearing the same emerald-green garments as the other maids, buried amidst the bamboo leaves around Yun Qing and appearing exceedingly inconspicuous.
Naturally, who could possibly pick out a single bamboo leaf within an entire bamboo forest?
Today, Ying’er had changed into a goose-yellow half-sleeve top and a cerulean three-pane skirt adorned with clustered floral patterns; with every gesture and movement, she radiated the aura of a manager in charge.
A wave of dejection washed over Zhao Si’s heart.
That’s right, even a random servant girl by Yun Qing’s side surpassed her, the groom, by a good three points.
Was there any justice in this world?
Zhao Si closed her eyes and, feeling listless, sat back down in the master’s chair that Ying’er and the others had prepared for her.
Seeing this, Ying’er gestured, and Yan’er immediately stepped forward to instruct the others to help Zhao Si wash and groom her face. After a busy bustle that lasted the space of an incense stick, Yan’er straightened Zhao Si’s shoulders, neatly gathered Zhao Si’s hair that had been trailing to the floor, swiftly twisted it up to the top of her head into a bun, and secured it with a finely patterned, gold-gilded hair ring.
As soon as Yan’er finished, Ying’er hurried forward and added a black forehead band to Zhao Si.
Once that was done, Ying’er eagerly pulled Zhao Si to stand before the mirror. Seeing that the bronze mirror clearly captured Zhao Si’s entire body, Ying’er clapped her hands in delight and flattered her: “Groom’s entire outfit was meticulously planned out by Miss in advance. Look at yourself, Groom—how handsome! Later on, when Groom steps out of the building, you must wear a veil-hat; you absolutely cannot let other young ladies snatch you away.”
“Really?” Zhao Si lacked confidence.
“What’s this? Does Groom actually distrust my young lady’s eye for style?” Ying’er poked her head out from beside Zhao Si and made a funny face at the bronze mirror. “Groom, rest assured. My young lady has a first-rate eye! Even Secondary Consort Liu frequently corresponds with my young lady, begging her to help select and match outfits.”
“You know about this too?”
“How could I not?” Ying’er said smugly. “Although that Secondary Consort Liu loves reading sagely books, she knew she wasn’t cut out for scholarship long before she came of age, so she used her monthly stipend early on to open a fabric and garment shop. And the finest clothing-matching master in that fabric shop is none other than my young lady.”
Zhao Si silently made a note of it: her wife was not only proficient in painting and calligraphy, but also skilled in matching attire truly a paragon of both talent and beauty.
As for the fabric and garment shop.
Zhao Si looked at Ying’er, seeing her gesticulating as if her entire body were shouting, Come and ask me, I know everything about my young lady! So she asked with a smile, “Does that mean your young lady has other businesses as well?”
“Of course she does!” Mentioning Yun Qing’s business ventures, Ying’er instantly opened the floodgates of conversation. “My young lady is proficient in everything from the zither and chess to calligraphy and painting; even divination and such arcane arts are well within her grasp. Not to mention drawing eyebrows and applying makeup—those come to her as effortlessly as turning over her hand.”
Ying’er’s descriptions were a bit all over the place, but Zhao Si listened intently.
In Zhao Si’s view, since her wife was the premier courtesan of Yulu Pavilion, it was hardly strange for her to master the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
As for divination and esoteric arts, they sounded interesting, but it was hard to tell fact from fiction; it was likely just Ying’er being inexperienced of the world.
As for the eyebrow-drawing and makeup application Ying’er mentioned last—were such ordinary feminine skills truly to be considered miraculous techniques?
Zhao Si mused to herself that there must be a story behind this, so she hurriedly pursued the question with Ying’er: “Is there anything special about drawing eyebrows and applying makeup?”
“As for that! Groom can save it and ask Miss in person.” Ying’er kept her suspense, turning around to joyfully lead Zhao Si to find Yun Qing.
Following Ying’er, Zhao Si was supported by Yan’er as she descended to the first floor, then walked through winding, zigzagging covered corridors over the water. The corridors were draped with purple wisteria vines. Along the wisteria tendrils, tiny purple flowers were piled cluster upon cluster, hanging densely like windchimes all the way to the end of the corridor.
Attracted by the waterfall of purple and the vigorous, intertwining vines, Zhao Si unconsciously slowed her pace.
Ying’er was leading the way ahead and didn’t notice Zhao Si lagging behind. However, the maidservant who had earlier remained behind holding the tribute tray proved to be quite perceptive.
Taking three steps in two, the maidservant swept around from behind Yan’er to the front, dropped to both knees, and held the tray high above her head to block Zhao Si’s path, flattering her: “If Groom fancies those wisterias, you can simply pluck and break a branch. This corridor is Miss’s private property; every blade of grass and tree within it belongs to Miss. Besides, this servant remembers Miss once reciting Li Shiwen’s lines: ‘Wisterias hang from cloudy trees, their flowery vines fit for the vernal spring. Dense leaves conceal singing birds, and fragrant winds linger around beauties.’ These wisteria flowers simply deserve a beauty.”
Recovering her wits, Ying’er chimed in, “That’s right! That’s right! Pick a cluster, Groom. Even amidst beauties as numerous as clouds in Yulu Pavilion, my young lady is undeniably the premier beauty among beauties.”
“Is that so?” Zhao Si snapped off a cluster of wisteria blossoms and placed it on the tribute tray, a mild pain suddenly flaring in her temples.
Fortunately, Zhao Si knew from experience that she occasionally suffered from headaches ever since she opened her eyes it was an old ailment so she simply ignored it.
Waving her hand to help the maidservant back to her feet, Zhao Si continued following Ying’er toward Yun Qing’s location while pondering how she should present the flowers to Yun Qing.
Should she use a cliché approach and tell Yun Qing that they were like wisteria, accompanying and relying upon each other? Or should she simply praise Yun Qing’s exceptional beauty, declaring that she surpassed these wisterias by a good three parts?
Should she speak a few heartfelt, down-to-earth words to Yun Qing, or quote a couple of verses of poetry like the maidservant did just now?
Surmising that Yun Qing definitely disliked vulgar and unrefined people, Zhao Si racked her brain trying to recall if she had any poetic verses stored in her mind.
Holding her breath, Zhao Si thought for fifty steps, only to confirm that she too was cursed with a stubborn, wooden brain one that had “known it wasn’t cut out for scholarship since the age of nine.”
Oh well.
Zhao Si chose not to fight herself over it. After all, not everyone in this world went around spouting poetry left and right.
As luck would have it.
Just as Zhao Si relaxed her mind, two lines of poetry unbidden floated up from the depths of her consciousness:
“Half a courtyard of purple snow un-swept for long, idly casting aside hairpins and sashes to face clear chanting.”
Pondering those two lines of poetry, Zhao Si’s mind once again conjured up the study she had seen last night. This time, it wasn’t raining outside the study; the windows were flung wide open, and outside lay a half-courtyard of fallen purple wisteria blossoms about half an inch thick, resembling a blanket of purple snow.
Upon the purple snow stood a man and a woman. The man was in his early twenties, dressed in wide-sleeved imperial robes that carried an unmistakable royal air, with a depressed look on his face. The woman was in the prime of her youth around sixteen, wearing a newlywed’s hair bun and a head full of pearl hairpins; she was looking up and stroking the wisteria vines, her vermilion lips parting and closing as if she were speaking.
What was that woman saying?
Zhao Si stared at the woman, finding her more and more familiar so familiar that she instinctively heard the name “Yun Qing” echo within her mind.
In an instant, the scene in Zhao Si’s mind shifted dramatically, spinning away from the man and woman and returning swiftly to the writing desk.
This time, no one was writing at the desk; an envelope simply lay resting upon it.
Focusing her attention to look, Zhao Si was instantly startled into a cold sweat by the two words “Letter of Divorce” written across the envelope.