Chapter Two: Composing Lyrics and Painting

Liang Shanru’s movements as she sheathed her blade were slow and deliberate. She stood before Lord Chang Le, watching him rage with such fury that she was almost moved to laughter. So this was the exhilaration of driving another into madness.

“It’s nearly noon,” she remarked, settling back into the official’s chair, arching her brow at Lord Chang Le. “Are you certain you want to report me to the authorities?”

Lord Chang Le let out a cold snort, about to speak, but Madam Zhou was quicker. She quietly pressed his wrist and probed, “Shanru, what do you mean by this? Your uncle and aunt have never wronged you, not even with the Li family’s marriage, though you’ve shown much displeasure—we’ve always managed to work things out. But today, you’ve drawn a blade and spoken so strangely… Shanru, what is the matter with you?”

Her voice trembled, nearly on the verge of tears. “Your sister mentioned recently that you seemed a bit odd, but I thought she was imagining things. Good child, you haven’t been possessed or offended anything, have you? How could you change so much overnight?”

“Are you going to invite a monk to chant scriptures and drive out evil spirits? So everyone will know I’m possessed and useless?” Liang Shanru laughed coldly, exposing her little trick. “Madam Zhou, you truly care for me.”

Her mockery brought a flush of color to Madam Zhou’s face, Lord Chang Le’s patience fraying as he was about to slam the table and curse.

But before he could speak, Liang Shanru sprang to her feet. “If you’re going to report me, then let’s go now—while there’s still time.” She even made a gesture of invitation. “But during tea, Madam Xu mentioned that the old lady of the Xu family was inspired by the snowy scenery and found herself without a painting of red plum blossoms in her chamber. Because my talent for painting is exceptional, she asked me to create one. I promised I’d finish it today and deliver it tomorrow morning.”

She lingered with a smile, drawing out her words. After a moment she tilted her head, eyes full of challenge. “If I fail, I’ll go to apologize in person. If the old lady asks, I can only tell her the truth.”

Lord Chang Le’s movements halted instantly.

He was counting on his daughter marrying into the Xu family.

The Chang Le Marquisate was waning, and he lacked the means to sustain it—sooner or later, the estate would dwindle to nothing. His only recourse was to scheme for his children’s marriages, hoping that future in-laws would lend support, maybe even secure a decent future for his disappointing son, thus preserving their wealth and honor.

But with Liang Shanru’s venomous tongue, “telling the truth” would surely be embellished with spite. How would the Xu family view them then?

He sat there, chest heaving with anger, unable to say another word.

Even Madam Zhou fell silent, afraid that a slip might ruin her daughter’s prospects—or worse, provoke Lord Chang Le into venting his wrath upon her.

Liang Shanru’s eyes grew sharper with scorn. She smoothed her lips and turned to leave. “Since you’re not reporting me, I’ll take my leave.”

She strode out, and beneath the gallery, hearing crashes of porcelain and glass shattering within, her heart soared with delight.

•

The next morning, Liang Shanru set out with the painting of red plum blossoms. As she rounded the moon gate, she met Madam Zhou and her daughter.

Madam Zhou, holding Liang Baoqi’s hand, called to Shanru with an ingratiating smile. “Since you’re visiting the Xu family’s old lady, let me bring you sisters together—so nothing is overlooked, and we won’t risk offending anyone.”

But in truth, Liang Shanru’s manners were impeccable—her mother was the only daughter of a Duke, a true lady of distinguished birth.

Her mother had died when she was seven, but before that, she had taught her all the proper etiquette.

The maid behind her, Dense Cloud, wanted to protest, but Liang Shanru had already agreed. Liang Baoqi, smug-faced, stepped forward to snatch the box holding the painting scroll.

Liang Shanru stepped back. “Even if you take it, the old lady knows you lack the skill. You’d only embarrass yourself.”

Liang Baoqi raised her hand to strike, but remembered her mother’s warning about Shanru’s boldness with their father yesterday and withdrew sulkily.

Madam Zhou’s face darkened, shielding Liang Baoqi as she urged, “You two are bickering first thing in the morning. Visiting someone’s home should be done early—don’t be disrespectful. Hurry along!”

The marquis’s carriage rolled steadily, stopping once they reached Auspicious Street.

The Xu family’s old lady, surnamed Hu, had once been a wet nurse in the imperial household, and her own daughter was the Emperor’s favorite consort, making her especially esteemed.

She knew well the intentions of the Chang Le marquis and his wife, but was old enough not to care for petty schemes.

Liang Shanru presented her painting. After a round of praise, the old lady turned to Madam Zhou. “It’s thoughtful of you to visit me so early.”

Madam Zhou sensed a hint of displeasure in her words, her smile stiffening as she exchanged awkward pleasantries.

Xu’s third daughter, Jingyi, was clever and adept at reading the old lady’s mood. Hearing this, she took Liang Shanru by the hand, addressing her grandmother. “Brother promised yesterday he’d write something for me. My chamber happens to lack a painting, so I thought Shanru could paint for me and Brother could add his inscription—two tasks accomplished at once!”

“Luckily he’s home today. You can talk with Madam Zhou while we find Brother!”

Painting and inscription together sounded far too intimate. Liang Baoqi’s gaze darkened imperceptibly.

The old lady pretended not to notice, waving the younger ones off. “Your brother will likely refuse, but tell him I said so—it’s rare for Shanru to visit. Don’t let him be petty.”

Madam Zhou quickly summoned Baoqi. “Go together, I’ll stay with the old lady.”

Liang Baoqi, sharp enough, bit her lip with silent fury.

As they exited, a handsome young gentleman in indigo robes approached at a casual pace.

Liang Shanru averted her gaze, refusing to meet his eyes, while Liang Baoqi could scarcely contain her admiration.

Xu Jingyi let go of Liang Shanru’s hand, running to her brother. “Why are you here at this hour? I just told grandmother Shanru would paint for me, and she’s allowed you to add your inscription!”

Xu Yunxuan steadied her, frowning slightly after hearing her out. He glanced instinctively at Liang Shanru, shaking his head gently. “Did you ask Shanru’s opinion?”

Xu Jingyi huffed. “You’re always—”

“I’m going to pay respects to grandmother. You two ladies enjoy your walk.” Xu Yunxuan cut her off, then turned to Liang Shanru with a courteous smile. “Third sister is spoiled and mischievous. You’ve just finished a painting for grandmother and must be tired. Don’t feel compelled to agree to her request—if you do, it’ll only take more of your time.”

Liang Shanru returned his courtesy. Xu Yunxuan had always treated her well, and his words were genuinely considerate—she could tell. She smiled. “You’re too kind.”

Xu Jingyi returned and took Liang Shanru’s arm, her face defiant. “If you won’t paint, so be it—but it’s unfair for Brother to call me mischievous. Don’t be so biased!”

The word “biased” was subtly pointed. Liang Baoqi, hanging back, grew angrier still.

Seeing Xu Yunxuan step aside and head towards the old lady’s courtyard, Liang Baoqi almost called out to him—but managed to restrain herself, watching his figure disappear through the moon gate.

Suddenly, she clutched her stomach and called to her sister.

The two ahead turned back as Liang Baoqi squirmed awkwardly. “My stomach doesn’t feel well…”

Xu Jingyi clicked her tongue and summoned a maid to lead her. “I’ll take Shanru to the garden—bring Liang Baoqi over when you’re ready, and don’t get lost!”