Chapter 22 #2
Madame Qiu was already speaking with Ailin. “You are the lady painter from Nanjing, aren’t you? The daughter of the late Scholar Duan. I think I have one of your works in my collection—a picture of a magpie in a persimmon tree.”
Meilin beamed on Ailin’s behalf. She knew the exact painting Madame Qiu was describing; Ailin had sold it to Uncle Chen right before they left Nuolan Garden.
How gratifying it was to witness her sister’s talent being recognized in public!
At least some of Ailin’s efforts over the past year were paying off.
If only Enze and Shen Lusi could see this too.
“I would love to have you join me for tea at the Prefect’s Residence sometime,” Madame Qiu said.
Ailin curtsied. “I would be honored.”
A few women from the group that Meilin passed earlier perked their heads up at Ailin and Madame Qiu’s conversation. Some began moving toward them like a flock of birds.
“We’ve heard that your father was a Great Scholar at the Han-lin Academy,” one of the ladies said to Ailin. “Are you really as talented as everyone says, Miss Duan?”
Some began clamoring for a live painting demonstration, and servants were called to set up a table.
Ailin acquiesced, and Meilin stepped in, quickly retrieving the supplies from Ailin’s bag and organizing them on the table.
As Ailin secured her paper with paperweights, Meilin moved to make ink.
She noticed with dismay that the inkstone Ailin had packed was a smooth rectangle.
When had Ailin stopped using the rough apricot blossom inkstone from Enze?
“You should paint our Miss Gao,” one lady said, motioning toward a richly dressed woman.
“It would be our Ailin’s honor to paint Miss Gao,” Madame Cai said in an obsequious manner. Miss Gao’s imperious aura signaled that she was most eminent among the small group.
Meilin tucked the information away as she filled the inkstone with water. The chatter on the boat began again as she ground the inkstick into the inkwell.
“What is taking so long?” Miss Gao asked impatiently, her tone grating.
Meilin tried not to show her annoyance. She was serving as Ailin’s assistant, so she couldn’t let her feelings affect Ailin’s work. The boat’s motion and the incessant chatter on deck was probably already enough of a distraction.
Despite the noise, Ailin dipped her brush into the fresh ink and began painting with self-possession.
One of Miss Gao’s companions giggled. “If the portrait is any good, your betrothed will demand to see it, my lady.”
“I’d wager he’s already going mad in anticipation of your wedding,” another woman said. “I’m sure he wants to fill his chamber with pictures of you.”
Meilin wondered how much of that was true. Miss Gao was well-dressed in a fur-lined pīfēng that revealed gold-embroidered gowns underneath, but she seemed too proud to be pleasant and too smug to be pretty.
“You’re all so silly,” Miss Gao said as she picked a nonexistent piece of lint off her clothes.
“My betrothed is too busy to think only of me. He has important artistic matters to take care of. His next play is going to premiere as soon as we are married. After the premiere, I hope you will all come to support The Romance of the Zither.”
Meilin nearly lost her balance. How unnerving! The play written by Miss Gao’s betrothed had the same title as the one Meilin had proposed for Master Wei’s latest work.
“What is the name of the writer?” she asked, wondering who might be stealing Master Wei’s ideas.
Miss Gao glared at her as if she was interrupting instead of merely asking a question. “And who are you?”
Madame Cai fluttered into the conversation with the grace of a butterfly, hovering over Meilin in a motherly way. “This is Miss Duan Meilin, a relative of our family visiting from Suzhou.”
Miss Gao’s glance toward Madame Cai was as dismissive as her words. “So she’s from your family. I should have known.”
Meilin looked between Ailin and Grand-mother Jiang. Were they going to stand by while Miss Gao behaved so rudely? What gave her the right to treat their family this way?
One of Miss Gao’s companions laughed, her voice high and tinkly. “Such ignorance is to be expected from a wàidìrén. Everyone in Hangzhou knows about the handsome heir of the Su family and his pen name, Wei Luobi.”
The boat tipped at the mention of Master Wei’s name. Or perhaps it was only in Meilin’s imagination. No. The dizziness behind her eyes was real.
She felt herself falling.
Grand-mother Jiang steadied her with a surprisingly firm grip. She said something like an order for Madame Cai to stay upstairs with Ailin while she excused Meilin. “Please don’t mind my grandniece. She often struggles with motion sickness. Go on with your activities.”
Meilin managed to make her way to the lower level of the boat with Grand-mother Jiang’s help. The old lady was stronger than she looked. Or maybe Meilin was lighter than she thought. She really didn’t know anymore.
The sunlight on the lake was blinding, and Meilin’s head throbbed. Everything around her felt upside down. There was no way the man betrothed to Miss Gao could be the same Wei Luobi that Meilin loved. She reached for the jade tiger pendant hidden under her shirt.
“Can you try to hold it in until we reach shore?” Grand-mother Jiang asked so loudly that it hurt Meilin’s ears. Surely everyone on the boat could hear her voice too.
Several ladies scooted away as if afraid that Meilin would get sick in front of them.
Grand-mother Jiang made Meilin lean over the railing at the stern of the boat and proceeded to rub her back.
“Breathe deeply,” the old lady said as loudly as before.
“I’m not nauseous,” Meilin nearly shouted back, but raising her voice increased her dizziness.
When she looked out over the lake, she couldn’t tell if the blurs of color were willows on the shore or magnolias on a causeway.
The cacophony of voices on the boat felt as deafening as a murder of crows, and Meilin struggled to tune out the noise.
Grand-mother Jiang continued rubbing Meilin’s back. She lowered her voice as she leaned into Meilin’s ear. “Being nauseated is better than starting a fight with Miss Gao. Her father is the magistrate who has been giving our family a hard time.”
Meilin wrinkled her nose. Even when Grand-mother Jiang was quiet, her speech was frustrating. “What does that have to do with me? Why did she claim to be betrothed to Wei Luobi?”
“Can you really not guess, dear? Or are you stubborn?” Grand-mother Jiang’s tone was striking. The jovial old matriarch had never spoken so sternly to Meilin before.
“I’m not being stubborn,” Meilin stammered. “We knew Master Wei so well. He ate dinner at your house at least once a week. How can he suddenly be engaged to this Miss Gao without telling any of us?”
Grand-mother Jiang shushed her. “I don’t know the exact situation, but we can’t afford to make a scene right now. I was able to remove you from the situation by exaggerating your motion sickness. Please don’t contradict me in public.”
Meilin wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. As bile turned in her gut, she genuinely became sick to her stomach. Her throat ached from retching and the bitter taste of betrayal.