Chapter 24
Meilin
Meilin hid in her room not because she didn’t know what was happening outside, but because the outside world was more than she could handle.
The thought of facing all her mistakes was overwhelming, as if she had fallen off a cliff and into the sea, with wave after wave crashing down on her.
As she was pushed lower and lower, what she found was not the dragon palace of legends but only frigid darkness.
She held the jade tiger pendant limply in her hand, unable to summon the energy to dispose of it. Everything she ever believed about romance, courage, and ideals had turned out to be false. She thought Master Wei loved her, only to learn she had imagined his affection. Zì zuò duō qíng.
What was the point of her efforts? She had tried to fight for happiness, to what avail?
She had been a fool. Not only had she brought shame through her poor sense of judgment, but she had also caused problems for the Jiang family. They had given her so much, and she had given nothing but trouble in return.
From the whispers of servants, she learned her outburst on the boat at West Lake had offended the family of Wei Luobi’s betrothed.
Magistrate Gao was using his political power to threaten the Jiangs.
Instead of chastising Meilin for causing a mess, however, Grand-mother Jiang and the rest of the family were protecting her.
How could she ever repay such a heavy debt of gratitude?
She wished she could disappear like the last note of a song fading in the wind.
Meilin was in bed when Ailin entered her room. When she opened her eyes, orange afternoon light filtered through the papered lattice windows. Less than a day had passed since she’d run out of the family dinner in tears. She wished it was a year.
Ailin sat down by her bed. “I have something to tell you.”
Meilin didn’t have the strength to reply. Ailin was probably calling her to dinner, where she’d have to force herself to sit up and swallow food that tasted like ash.
“It’s good news,” Ailin said in a tone Meilin didn’t believe.
At Meilin’s silence, Ailin explained how she visited Madame Qiu and got an assurance from her that Prefect Yao would work with the Jiangs to expose Magistrate Gao’s corruption. “We won’t have to worry about the magistrate on our own anymore. The prefect is on our side.”
The news was too good to be true. Ailin was probably downplaying the threat to make her feel better. Meilin turned on her side, looking away from the sister who was trying so hard. Ailin was a reminder of everything Meilin should have been but wasn’t.
After several minutes of silence, during which Ailin’s disappointment grew almost palpable, Ailin stood up. Perhaps she was finally giving up. Meilin deserved it.
Tears dripped from her eyes onto her pillow. Her hopelessness had exhausted even her long-suffering sister. She quietly turned to watch Ailin leave.
To her surprise, however, her sister walked over to the wall where Meilin’s zither hung.
She took the instrument off its peg and placed it on a desk in the middle of the room.
She sat and positioned herself on the right half of the instrument.
Father had taught them both how to play years ago, but Ailin had not practiced for years.
Ailin’s face scrunched in concentration as she plucked the strings one at a time, pausing between each note as if measuring her left hand against the mother-of-pearl huī dots every time she moved.
Her right hand was shaky, muffling the silk strings of the instrument so much that Meilin could not identify the tune she was playing.
Why was Ailin playing Meilin’s zither in the first place? She had never shown an interest in the instrument before, not even when Father was alive. And why was she playing now, of all times?
Out of curiosity, Meilin walked over to the desk where Ailin sat.
Ailin was dressed formally in a lilac ǎo blouse with an embroidered mǎmiàn skirt.
Her hair was arranged in neat, interconnected knots held firmly in place with a jī pin.
She was dressed much too nicely to be wasting her time with someone like Meilin.
When Meilin stepped behind Ailin to observe her fingering, she stopped her labored plucking.
“What song was that?” Meilin asked.
Ailin frowned as she cocked her head. “Are my skills so bad that you can’t even tell what song I was playing?”
Meilin grimaced. “Yes?”
Ailin sighed. “It was supposed to be ‘Three Stanzas on Plum Blossoms.’”
Recognition swept over Meilin like dawn peeking over a mountain ridge. It was the song she had played for Ailin when she wanted her sister to be strong. Like the plum blossoms that bloom in the depths of winter, be strong.
Ailin laughed, a broken little sound that reminded Meilin of an injured bird. “I’m pretty terrible at music, aren’t I?”
It had been so long since Ailin joked with Meilin that her ability to process Ailin’s humor was as bad as her sister’s zither playing. “At least you’re trying.”
“Thanks.” Ailin smiled softly as she vacated the chair behind the zither. “Would you care to show me how to play better?”
Years of practice made Meilin’s body so used to the musician’s space that she moved toward the empty chair almost automatically. As soon as she sat down, however, negative thoughts flooded back to her.
She hesitated.
How could she enjoy something as beautiful as music when she had brought so much misery to everyone? She didn’t deserve to show Ailin how to do anything, not even how to play the zither.
“I can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
Meilin wrapped her arms around herself, not daring to touch the silk strings.
Her mistakes were too serious to be forgotten so easily.
Ailin might have been able to solve the issue of Magistrate Gao, but that didn’t mean Meilin’s folly was absolved.
She had so much more penance to perform before she could finally forgive herself.
Ailin eventually left the room, letting Meilin think in silence. While she wasn’t ready to move on yet, maybe one day she could—if she learned from and helped her sister as much as possible.
Over the next few weeks, Meilin tried harder to reduce Ailin’s burden.
Every day, she rose at the same time as Ailin and made herself eat, even though food was still flavorless.
When Ailin painted, Meilin ground her ink and washed her brushes.
Lately, Ailin was focused on painting mountains.
Her style reminded Meilin of Father’s work, except Ailin paid greater attention to detail, and she painted women as well as men.
Some of the women were weavers and embroiderers working in secluded mountaintop studios.
Some looked like immortal fairies floating among clouds.
Ailin was obviously pushing herself to paint not only the familiar but also scenes from her imagination.
Her work was stunning, and Meilin was glad to bask in her reflected light.
Even though she herself was a disappointment, her sister was a success.
For that, Meilin was grateful. It meant that when Mama’s letters came from Suzhou to check on how they were doing, she could write back with glowing news about Ailin while remaining quiet about herself.
She had been selfish and naive for too long. It was time to change.
Spring gradually warmed the city.
During dinner one evening, Uncle Meng beamed as he raised his cup, treating it as if it was filled with wine instead of tea.
“I have news of great import. As of this afternoon, Tai and I finished paying all the taxes required by the imperial government this year. Thanks to everyone’s efforts, we gathered enough to send to Beijing without raising rent on any tenants.”
Cheers erupted among the family members.
Grand-mother Jiang and Madame Cai both praised their sons-in-law.
Master Pang filled Madame Pang’s bowl with food as she smiled.
Shen Lusi, ever eager to please, poured tea.
The challenge of imperial taxes had lasted for months, and now that it was taken care of, there was only one matter of business left.
“Does this mean we have time to tackle personal matters?” Shen Lusi asked after the celebratory hum wound down.
Madame Pang patted Shen Lusi’s hand gently. “Our little Lusi has been waiting patiently for the family elders to approach the Fan family about a formal betrothal.”
Meilin’s tea turned bitter on her tongue. Shen Lusi’s plans had been put off because of the more pressing issue of taxes and Magistrate Gao, but now there were no more reasons to delay. Meilin glanced at Ailin beside her.
As recently as a month ago, she might have grown impatient with Ailin for staying quiet instead of fighting for her happiness, but now she willed herself to trust her sister’s judgment.
Though Ailin hadn’t told her the details of her last interaction with Enze, Meilin guessed that she had reasons for ending things the way she did.
Ailin might still be suffering in secret, but Meilin respected her decision.
Grand-mother Jiang chimed in from across the table.
“I was hoping that young Enze would have brought Madame Fan to deliver a proposal letter by now, but I suppose that can’t be helped.
With how busy we’ve been, it would have been impossible to receive them properly.
Tomorrow seems as good a day as any to visit the Fan house. What do you all think?”
Meilin tried to imitate Ailin’s serene exterior, but inside she felt cold. Tomorrow seemed very soon.
When Shen Lusi expressed excitement over Grand-mother Jiang’s plan, the old lady smiled.
“Now that we’ve decided on a date, shall we decide who will go on the visit? Since the eldest member of the Fan family is a woman, we should make sure our party consists only of women as well. I propose that I take Ailin with Lusi while everyone else stays home.”
Meilin looked at her sister in horror. Knowing Shen Lusi was proposing to Enze was bad enough, but having to witness the proposal in person?
She could only imagine how terrible Ailin must feel.
Her own experience of finding out about Wei Luobi and Miss Gao was painful, but Enze was a better man, so to lose him must hurt deeper.
“Is there a particular reason Miss Duan needs to come, Grand-mother Jiang?” Shen Lusi asked. “She must be so busy now that she is painting for Madame Qiu and all the other fine ladies of Hangzhou.”
Shen Lusi’s nervousness was perhaps the only satisfying part of the conversation. The girl sounded like she was intimidated by Ailin’s presence. Good. That meant she knew who Enze really loved.
“This situation is unique,” Grand-mother Jiang explained as she set down her teacup. “Since Ailin’s brother is married to Enze’s sister, that makes them somewhat related. Since we have never met Madame Fan before, I think it’s only appropriate to have a relative introduce us, don’t you agree?”
Meilin didn’t know if she agreed with Grand-mother Jiang’s reasoning, but Ailin and Shen Lusi both nodded, so she resolved not to intervene. She was probably being excluded from this visit because her presence was still a reminder of shame. Her opinion didn’t matter anyway.
As she looked at Ailin again, her uneasiness returned.
Her sister sat tall in her chair, as noble as a queen, showing no outward signs of distress, but she had been hiding her emotions for so long that surely they were building inside of her.
Meilin wondered when Ailin’s feelings would overflow.
Or, perhaps, Ailin was strong enough that she would always be able to keep her love a secret. Only time would tell.