Chapter 26
Meilin
For many days after Grand-mother Jiang’s visit to the Fan residence with Ailin and Shen Lusi, the household was abuzz with discussion of Enze, his whereabouts, and his prospects.
Ailin remained quiet, but Meilin suspected she was as worried about Enze as everybody else was, perhaps even more so despite her outward disinterest.
Grand-mother Jiang declared Madame Fan the most disagreeable woman she had ever met, and she pitied Enze so much that she was willing to offer him a place as a matrilocal grandnephew-in-law.
The old lady had to be talked out of the idea by Shen Lusi, who insisted that she could not, as a distant relative of a different surname, bring in a husband and remain dependent on the Jiang family forever.
Shen Lusi’s plan, as she relayed to the family, was to restore Enze to his rightful position in the Fan house by somehow winning Madame Fan’s favor.
To achieve her goal, she sent gifts and even wrote letters to Fan Ruoze, Madame Fan’s only noticeable weakness, urging him to advocate for his older half-brother in front of his mother.
Meilin wished she could be more grateful for Shen Lusi’s proactivity in helping Enze, but she couldn’t. In an unalterable part of her heart, she still believed that Shen Lusi was stealing Enze from Ailin, and she couldn’t help but be indignant on Ailin’s behalf.
After many days of no one knowing where Enze had gone, Master Pang finally received a letter from him, and the information was quickly shared around the house.
Enze was living in a cheap part of the city and had taken on extra jobs copying books in addition to tutoring in order to live without family support.
Everyone in the Jiang family admired his work ethic and wondered if his wedding with Shen Lusi could finally be planned.
Once Madame Cai and Madame Pang assured them all that they could handle wedding matters, Grand-mother Jiang admitted she had been missing her daughter and grandchildren after four months away from home.
The time had come for Meilin and Ailin to return to Suzhou.
Meilin nursed complex feelings as she boarded the boat Uncle Meng had arranged for their journey up the Grand Canal. The vessel was compact, with just enough room to carry the traveling party, their guards, and a few travel chests of personal belongings.
Once their luggage was settled and the boat pulled away from shore, she went to the open deck to watch misty Hangzhou fade into the distance. She smiled ruefully as she pulled out the tiger pendant Wei Luobi had given her on the day they visited Hanshan Temple. She had been so naive back then.
She had barely known anything about Wei Luobi when she convinced herself that he loved her.
All he had given her were a few pretty words and a jade pendant, and she had given him her whole heart.
The polished jade was smooth in her hand.
Leaning over the boat’s railing, she pulled her arm back and prepared to throw.
“Wait.” Ailin set a hand on her shoulder.
Meilin turned around. “Why shouldn’t I throw this lump of stone away?”
“You never know when a piece of jade might be useful. At the very least, it was a gift.”
“A gift from someone I never want to think of again.”
“Perhaps the gift was the lesson, not the person.”
Meilin chewed on Ailin’s words. Her sister was always wiser than she was. Wei Luobi’s tiger pendant was a reminder of a mistake she couldn’t afford to forget, but it was too painful to wear the jade around her neck.
“Can you keep it for me?”
“Only if you switch with me for something else.” Ailin opened her purse and pulled out a sheathed dagger, offering the hilt to Meilin.
The weapon looked familiar. “Is this the one from Captain Bai?”
“It is, and it’s been weighing down my purse. He meant for you to have it.”
Meilin took the dagger and gave the pendant to Ailin. The metal felt heavier than jade, but the way the hilt fit her hand made it unexpectedly easier to carry.
“Do you think he suspected Wei Luobi would abandon me?”
“Captain Bai?” Ailin raised her brows before knitting them in thought. “I don’t know him well enough to guess. He disliked Wei Luobi, but I’m not sure if it was because he doubted Wei’s character or if he was jealous.”
Meilin gripped the dagger’s hilt tighter. Captain Bai’s gift was practical, like him. When she first saw the dagger before she left Suzhou, she associated it with ill intent. Now, she saw that it was a tool for protection.
If misinterpreting Wei Luobi’s flirtation as love was a mistake, maybe thinking the worst of Captain Bai was also a mistake. Even though they often clashed, there were times when he had been a good friend, like when he listened to her play the zither.
Meilin shook her head to clear out her messy thoughts. She couldn’t afford to trust any man too easily again, even if he seemed to be a friend. And Captain Bai wasn’t just anyone. He was a man with secrets. She needed to be careful.
“I’m going to keep this dagger because I think it will be useful, not because I trust Captain Bai.”
Ailin nodded with the wistful wisdom of one who understood heartbreak. “Good plan.”
On the night before they were set to arrive in Suzhou, Meilin and Ailin were sharing a dinner of rice porridge and pickled vegetables when Uncle Meng asked Grand-mother Jiang a most alarming question.
“Have you heard the reports about the Wōkòu moving west from Songjiang, Mother?”
Grand-mother Jiang swallowed a spoonful of porridge. “The news is troubling, but the best we can do is get home as quickly as possible. We’ll be safe once we get behind the city walls.”
Meilin looked to Ailin for an indication of how nervous she should be. Ailin frowned but didn’t say anything. While they had both heard about Wōkòu raids causing devastation throughout the coast, they had never been caught in one before.
After dinner, Uncle Meng went to speak with Tian and the other guards about keeping watch over the eastern horizon, in case of Wōkòu movement.
Out on the canal, the lantern light that usually illuminated each waterborne vessel was absent. The only light came from the stars, twinkling through the humid summer air.
After a night of fitful sleep, Meilin arose at dawn. Gazing out from the deck, she found the Grand Canal, already narrow and prone to silting, completely unnavigable. So many boats crowded the water that none could move.
Uncle Meng suddenly rushed past her, followed by several guards.
“What’s happening?” Meilin asked.
Uncle Meng turned his head but did not stop moving toward Grand-mother Jiang’s cabin. “Get your sister, Meilin. Wōkòu are within sighting distance in the east, and canal traffic isn’t moving. We’re going to take the land route the rest of the way home. Prepare to leave the boat in ten minutes.”
Meilin pinched herself to make sure she was fully awake.
Land route? While she preferred solid ground to water, land travel was not feasible for Ailin’s dainty feet unless there was a carriage nearby.
On the shore, people were already moving with bags over their backs like ants up an anthill.
Meilin could not imagine securing a carriage from any of them.
When she went back to the cabin, she found Ailin tying a cloth sack around her shoulder.
“I heard commotion outside,” Ailin said. “We have to go, don’t we?”
Meilin hesitated. All night she had been nervous, but she hadn’t packed anything. Now there was no time. Searching the room, she seized on the only item that truly mattered—the zither her father had custom-made for her years ago. She grabbed the instrument and held it to her chest. “Let’s go.”
Back out on deck, Meilin saw that their boat was tied to a jetty on the west side of the canal. Standing on the jetty, Uncle Meng was helping Grand-mother Jiang off the boat via a narrow gangplank. Though he held the old lady’s arm, the process seemed wobbly. That meant Ailin would struggle too.
Uncle Meng waved in their direction as soon as Grand-mother Jiang’s feet landed on the jetty. “Hurry, girls!”
At Ailin’s urging, Meilin went first. Uncle Meng offered his hand to steady her, but it wasn’t necessary. Meilin’s balance was fine, even while holding her zither.
A sharp whistle pierced the air, and Uncle Meng withdrew his hand.
Meilin jumped to the ground herself, bending protectively over her instrument, then she looked up to assess the situation.
She froze as blood drained from her face.
A Wōkòu arrow stuck out from Uncle Meng’s shoulder.