“Master Lin, apologize to Madam at once! You are just a child—how can you speak such words?”
Sweat beaded anxiously on Nanny Wang’s forehead, her heart leaping into her throat. She wished she could cover Shen Jianglin’s mouth so he wouldn’t utter another word.
On such a grand festival, how could such a disaster have erupted!
Yet Shen Jianglin paid no heed to the desperate glances his wet nurse was giving him—or rather, even if he saw them, he didn’t care. His hair, which he had been growing for only half a year, had originally been neatly tied up in a hairnet, but his agitated movements had knocked it askew. His exquisite, porcelain-like little face was flushed bright red, and his eyes were bloodshot, as though they might weep tears of blood at any moment.
Shen Jianglin wiped his eyes fiercely with his sleeve, craning his neck in stubborn defiance. “Mother, you often say you treat me and Eldest Brother the same, and I have always revered you as my birth mother. Before Mother, your child dares not speak a falsehood: I did not take that jade pendant. I didn’t take it! I have no idea how it ended up on the desk in my room!”
Pausing for a breath, Shen Jianglin felt it was still not enough, and fiercely swore an oath: “If your child has uttered half a word of untruth, may five bolts of lightning strike me down from heaven, and after death, may I descend into the Avici Hell, never to be reincarnated!”
Hearing this, Nanny Wang’s vision went dark. Her knees buckled, and she fell straight to the floor, cold sweat trickling down from her temples. She tried to pull Shen Jianglin down to kneel with her, but though he was only a ten-year-old boy, half-grown, he possessed considerable strength. He stood ramrod-straight, his gaze fixed squarely on Madam Wei, refusing to yield in the slightest.
Having nursed him since infancy, how could Nanny Wang not know his temperament? This child was usually quiet, obedient, and gentle, but once his scale was touched, he was as stubborn as a mule—not even nine oxen could pull him back.
Even if Nanny Wang had harbored some doubts a moment ago, hearing him swear such a terrible oath convinced her that Master Lin could not have done it. He truly had been wronged.
However, Madam Wei, seated upon the soft couch, saw it quite differently. Furious, she struck the small side table beside her. Her expression turned sharp, laced with an imperceptible disgust and disappointment, and she sneered, “This is utterly lawless! You’ve attended school for a few years and read books for two, and at such a tender age, you already dare to throw around talk of life and death before me? You claim to see me as your birth mother, but when have I ever treated you harshly? Regarding your daily living and meals, along with your eldest brother’s, which of them was not arranged properly by my hand? Have you ever been shortchanged? Go ask around the entire capital—would any other family’s concubine-born son be treated as well?”
When Shen Jianglin heard the words “concubine-born son,” the hands hidden in his sleeves clenched into tight fists. Yet he pressed his lips together, uttering not a word. Slowly, his head drooped, his small frame tensing rigidly, his shoulders slumping slightly.
Madam Wei was far from finished. Pointing a finger at Shen Jianglin, she continued her scolding: “If it had been anything else today, had you taken it to play with, so be it! But of all things, you took the jade given to Yun-ge’er by his eldest maternal uncle. That is tributary mutton-fat nephrite! Setting that aside, his uncle specifically instructed that when we visit his grandmother’s house on the third day, Yun-ge’er must wear it for her to see. Master Lin, did you hear clearly? That is not an item of the Shen family; it was given to Yun-ge’er by his Wei family uncle. Do you understand? Fortunately, Chuntao found it; otherwise, how was I to give an account? You began your schooling at seven and have studied for three years—did you only read books to fill your belly with thievery and deceit?”
Behind Madam Wei stood seven or eight maids and older servants, their hands respectfully clasped, listening in silence. Not a single person stepped forward to plead for Shen Jianglin. Nanny Wang wanted to speak, but she was clumsy of tongue and terrified of Madam Wei, able only to cry out repeatedly, “Madam, appease your anger!” The other pageboy and young maid attending Shen Jianglin were roughly his age; having never witnessed such a scene, they could only shiver in fright, unable to utter a coherent sentence.
Shen Jianglin’s little face flushed crimson. Madam Wei’s words pierced straight to his heart. Not only was she accusing him of theft, but she was also rubbing in the fact that he had no proper maternal uncle. His birth mother had entered the manor through a deed of sale; where would he get an uncle from? Tears began to spill uncontrollably, falling one by one onto the blue flagstones, vanishing in an instant.
“Mother, please believe your child. I truly never took this jade pendant. I had never even seen it before, nor did I know Uncle Wei had sent anything over. I beg Mother to believe me!”
Shen Jianglin finally sank to his knees, looking up at Madam Wei with filial longing, racking his brains to prove his innocence, desperate for her trust.
Madam Wei stared at him steadily for a moment. The filigree luan-bird hairpin inlaid with gems and openwork celadon jade in her hair gleamed brilliantly in the daylight. She withdrew her gaze, smoothed the sleeves of her sable-lined cape, and slowly suppressed her anger, her tone turning cold and indifferent. “Since the item has been recovered, and today is a grand festival, I shall not pursue it further. However, to ensure those around you learn their lesson, each servant in your courtyard will be docked one month’s silver and grain. Do you have any objections?”
Madam Wei made her final decree. In her mind, she was being exceedingly merciful by not punishing Shen Jianglin severely.
Today was the first day of the New Year, and countless matters across the manor awaited her attention. She had not intended to make a grand scene over Master Lin, but the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
For one, Madam Wei had merely been a concubine-born daughter of the Wei family. Only after marrying the legitimate heir of the Marquis of Rong’an as a second wife did she gain prestige. The brothers and sisters who had once looked down on her now regarded her with newfound respect, which made her particularly attentive to matters concerning her maiden family.
Secondly, her brother—the eldest uncle of Yun-ge’er whom she had just mentioned—had been promoted last year to become the Education Commissioner in the auxiliary capital. The south was a flourishing center of literary culture, and more than half of the successful candidates on the triennial imperial examination roster were southern scholars. Was it not the Education Commissioner who oversaw such affairs? Madam Wei, who desperately wanted her son to pursue an official career, was naturally eager to curry favor with this elder brother.
If Yun-ge’er gained favor in Eldest Uncle Wei’s eyes, would Master Lin not benefit from the association? At such a critical time, how could he cause trouble?
Thus, as Madam Wei had said, the intrinsic value of the jade was secondary; it held far deeper significance. When the jade had suddenly gone missing, the entire household had nearly been turned upside down.
Some things could not be stated openly, but Madam Wei’s personal senior maid, Chuntao, knew full well that if Yun-ge’er’s prospects were ruined, even ten Master Lins would not be enough to compensate!
Because of this, Madam Wei had abandoned her usual facade of a benevolent mother. She had made such a fuss today precisely to tighten the reins on Shen Jianglin, so he would not truly believe he could stand on equal footing with Yun-ge’er.
At the same time, Madam Wei genuinely despised such petty, thievish behavior, feeling that Shen Jianglin had failed her years of instruction. Born of a concubine, he was rotten to the core after all.
Now that the matter was settled, Madam Wei prepared to rise and head to the floral reception hall to tend to her duties, not intending to linger in Shen Jianglin’s room. Unexpectedly, Shen Jianglin crawled forward a few paces on his knees, grasped the hem of her skirt, and looked up at her, his stubborn eyes fixed squarely on hers, his face streaked with tears. “Mother, do you truly not believe your child? Must I prove my innocence with my death?”
The anger that Madam Wei had just suppressed flared up again in an instant. Standing where she was, she snapped, “Are you threatening me? On such a grand festival, how many times must you speak of life and death? The evidence is right before us, and yet you refuse to admit it? What, are you implying that I deliberately framed you?”
Frightened out of her wits, Nanny Wang quickly grabbed Shen Jianglin, kowtowing and trembling as she pleaded, “Madam, Master Lin is just a child talking nonsense! Please do not take it to heart!”
Shen Jianglin turned his head in disbelief, staring hard at Nanny Wang. “Nanny, even you don’t believe me?”
How could Nanny Wang dare to take his side at this moment? Her mind was entirely consumed with pulling Shen Jianglin to apologize to Madam Wei. Shen Jianglin suddenly threw his arm out, shaking off her grip. His head throbbed with dizzying fury as he shouted, “I said I didn’t take it, and I didn’t take it! Why won’t anyone believe me?! Why?!!”
The ten-year-old boy’s voice had not yet broken; his shout was loud and piercing enough to startle even Madam Wei. Once she came to her senses, she was thoroughly incensed. She struck him across the face without holding back. With a loud slap, five red welts appeared on Shen Jianglin’s pale, jade-like cheek. “You wretched cur, who are you shouting at? It seems I’ve treated you too well, raising such a base creature who knows neither respect nor station! If you want to die, go die this instant! Only if you dare to die will I believe you didn’t take that jade!”
Hearing her mistress speak so recklessly in her rage, Chuntao hurriedly stepped forward to support Madam Wei’s hand, coaxing, “Madam, take care not to hurt your hand.”
Just as she was about to say a few more soothing words to calm the fire, Shen Jianglin, who had been kneeling on the floor, suddenly leaped to his feet. Turning around, he dashed toward the main doors. His slate-blue cloak billowed open in the biting wind, like a green bird spreading its wings across the railing of the Drunken Trance Pavilion.
Then came a resounding splash. Water sprayed in all directions, and then all fell silent. To the naked eye, a mop of black hair sank beneath the water.
A deathly stillness fell over the hall. Only after three breaths did the young maid, Cuiliu, let out a piercing shriek: “Second Young Master has jumped into the water!”
It was the dead of winter, a season so frigid that even bundling up completely would leave one shivering outside. At this moment, a light snow began to fall from the sky. As the freezing wind gusted, the white flakes swirled down onto the upturned eaves and flying rafters of the Drunken Trance Pavilion, silently watching from above as everyone rushed forward in a frantic panic to save him.
The courtyard was adorned with lanterns and colored streamers, and even the bare tree trunks were draped in splendid brocades. The freezing wind wailed and whistled past, swaying the four-cornered palace lanterns beneath the eaves into dizzying spins, and sweeping across all who rushed to the pond’s edge, sending a violent shiver through every one of them.