Chapter 88: The Gathering in the Hall

The fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month was the Mid-Autumn Festival.

This day was hardly different from any other, save for a family dinner in the Jiang household. Yet even this so-called reunion dinner was a stretch to be called “together.” Since Jiang Yue’e had been sent to the estate to “recuperate,” and with her marriage to the Marquis of Ningyuan’s family set for the coming spring, arrangements were hastened, for Madam Yang feared delay would further disadvantage her. Thus, Jiang Yue’e, still so young, was to be married off first.

Jiang Youyao seemed finally resigned to the fact that there was no turning back. Though unwilling to accept it, being confined by the Old Madam left her unable to act. In less than a month, she had grown noticeably thinner, her once delicate and charming beauty now appearing frail and pitiable.

Yet this only made Jiang Yuanbai feel even more sorry for her. At dinner, Jiang Li noticed his attitude toward Ji Shuran and her daughter was especially gentle, as if he sought to compensate Jiang Youyao for the injustice of the Zhou Yanbang incident.

Watching their little family’s harmony, Jiang Li felt nothing in particular, but Madam Lu could not bear it. She deliberately provoked Ji Shuran, “Everyone’s going to the Mid-Autumn Lantern Festival tonight, aren’t they?”

“Youyao won’t be going,” Ji Shuran replied. “She’s caught a chill and hasn’t recovered. It would only make matters worse if she went out and caught more wind. You all go ahead, I’ll stay home and keep her company.”

The Old Madam had not lifted Jiang Youyao’s confinement. Given Youyao’s temperament and her feelings for Zhou Yanbang, the Old Madam feared that letting her out would only have her seek him out, and her hope was that Youyao would finally give up. If Youyao kept entangling herself with Zhou Yanbang, it would bring shame to the Jiang family in the eyes of the Marquis of Ningyuan’s household.

Youyao herself had no desire to go out; though being confined was frustrating, the thought of facing others’ sympathetic gazes filled her with humiliation. Though the affair with Zhou Yanbang had little to do with her, she too had become the subject of gossip—a pitiful fiancée. Better to stay at home than to endure those looks.

“I won’t go either,” Jiang Yuanbai said. “There’s court business to attend to.” Now that he felt he owed Youyao, he was keen to make it up to his youngest daughter. With Ji Shuran and her daughter not attending, there was no reason for him to go alone.

Madam Lu’s eyes darted. “If none of you go, what about Li’er? We can’t let her go by herself, can we?”

Jiang Yuanping, off to the side, gave a discreet cough.

“It’s nothing,” Jiang Li smiled, “I’m not that eager to go anyway.”

“Li’er can go with your Second Aunt,” the Old Madam interjected unexpectedly. “You’ve only just returned to the capital this year. The Lantern Festival is lovely, and you’ve been working hard these days. Take the time to rest and enjoy yourself.”

With the Old Madam’s decision, Jiang Li could not refuse, and though she was unwilling, she had no choice but to agree. This left Jiang Yuanbai in a dilemma—his eldest daughter had just returned, while his youngest had been wronged; both were dear to him. In the end, he chose to stay home. Jiang Li was mature and considerate, while Jiang Youyao had never suffered hardship. There would be time to make it up to Jiang Li in the future.

Seeing her eldest son still so fixated on Ji Shuran and her daughter, the Old Madam could only sigh and shake her head before returning to her quarters. Jiang Jingrui, on the other hand, was delighted. Once the Old Madam had left, he kept making faces at Jiang Li and, after the gathering dispersed, intentionally lingered to say, “You say you don’t want to go, but when the Old Madam says the word, you have to obey, don’t you?”

Jiang Li, troubled, ignored him, but Jiang Jingrui chattered on, “You’ll see, you’ll be amazed! The food, the sugar figurines, the lantern riddles—all along the street! I heard Jin Mantang is performing tonight—wait for it. Hey, don’t walk so fast—!”

Jiang Li left him behind, quickening her pace. There was no escaping it. She had thought staying in would spare her sorrow, but with the Old Madam’s command, any attempt to avoid it would seem suspicious. Still, there was some advantage—if others saw her out at the festival while Jiang Yuanbai, Ji Shuran, and Jiang Youyao stayed home, they might make their own judgments.

In public, Jiang Yuanbai always strove to appear impartial.

She could only take it one step at a time.

So, as night fell and after dinner, Jiang Li was compelled to join the Second Household on their outing.

The Old Madam remained behind, her legs unsteady, staying home to play with Jiang Bingji. Of the First Household, only Jiang Li went out; the Second Household were all present. The Third Household, with Madam Yang and Jiang Yuanxing, did not attend. After recent events, Jiang Yuanxing could barely hold his head up among colleagues, and Jiang Yue’e, of course, would not go out to be shamed. Jiang Yuyan had no reason to go, either.

Tong’er and Baixue accompanied Jiang Li, both maids exclaiming in awe at their first lantern festival. Jiang Jingrui deliberately lagged behind, walking side by side with Jiang Li. “Why aren’t you curious? Your maids look happier than you.”

Jiang Li’s expression was calm—calmer than usual, almost indifferent. Jiang Jingrui noticed that, though her lips curved in a habitual smile, not even the warm glow of the lanterns could brighten it.

Yet this cool beauty drew the gaze of many young men. Jiang Jingrui spotted at least seven or eight who kept sneaking glances at her.

The avenues of Yanjing were filled with all kinds of lanterns, crafted by the people themselves. The customs were similar everywhere—the lanterns here hung on ropes, while in Tongxiang, they floated on the river.

There were hexagonal lanterns, those shaped like lantern towers. Many had skilled hands; even boisterous Jiang Jingrui was taken with their beauty, constantly pulling Jiang Li aside to admire one or another. Jiang Li was speechless—he, not she, seemed the true maiden, brimming with innocent dreams.

When they came to a rabbit-shaped lantern, Jiang Jingrui was utterly enchanted. He fell behind the others, insisting on buying it. But the lantern maker was stubborn, refusing to sell unless someone solved the riddle attached to it.

Jiang Jingrui always dreaded intellectual challenges, and the others had walked on ahead. He tugged Jiang Li’s sleeve, “You were top in the exam, weren’t you? Solve this for me—if you win the rabbit lantern, I’ll give you fifty silver taels!”

Jiang Li looked down on such extravagance, but fifty taels was no small sum. Jiang Jingrui was truly a spendthrift, willing to pay so much for a useless lantern. Yet even heroes are stymied by a lack of funds. She never imagined she would someday sell her learning for silver.

After all, money is better than none—how many scholars in the world, for all their talent, lack a penny to their name?

So she paused to examine the lantern.

The craftsman’s skill was evident—the animal-shaped lantern was lifelike, covered in white cloth over a bamboo frame. The long pink-tipped ears, the eyes made of red beans, all seemed to come alive in the flickering light within, as if about to leap away.

It truly was a beautiful lantern.

But when she looked at the wooden plaque with the riddle, her smile froze and her expression changed dramatically.

There, in fine script, was a familiar line: “Searching for you among the crowd, a thousand times...”

In that instant, Jiang Li seemed to hear again that deep, affectionate voice in her ear: “This character is like my feelings for you.”

Memories surged before her eyes, and she snatched her hand away as if burned.

Jiang Jingrui urged, “What’s wrong? Hurry up and guess!”

“I can’t solve it,” Jiang Li replied coldly.

“How is that possible?” Jiang Jingrui protested. “You’re the top student—this isn’t even a red riddle, not the hardest. How can you not solve it?”

“I simply can’t. Find someone else,” she said, turning away as if repulsed, refusing to look at the lantern again.

Jiang Jingrui was caught off guard but hesitated to chase after her. By the time he did, she had vanished into the crowd.

Jiang Li moved with the throng. Madam Lu and the others had gone ahead, Jiang Jingrui was behind, and the surging crowd would soon scatter them all. It would be easy to get lost.

Jiang Li was not afraid—she knew the streets of Yanjing well, and with the city guards nearby, she could call for help if needed.

She had no wish to find Madam Lu or Jiang Jingrui, savoring this rare moment of solitude. Since her return to the capital, she had been Jiang Li, though sometimes she remembered her original name—Xue Fangfei.

She feared that living too long as Jiang Li, she might forget who she truly was, and the things she once wanted. The comfort of this new life was not her goal. Tonight’s lantern riddle was a bitter tonic, making her heart ache but also awakening her sharply.

So, to temporarily cast aside the burden of being “Jiang Li” and be alone was not so bad.

Tong’er and Baixue, unaware of her thoughts, grew anxious as the crowd swallowed up the others. “Miss, should we find Second Master’s family? What if we can’t find our way back?”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Li reassured. “I know the way.”

“There are too many people,” Baixue worried. “We didn’t bring a bodyguard. What if something happens?”

Jiang Li considered—her only real enemies in the household were Ji Shuran and her daughter. They would not dare act here with so many eyes upon them. Ji Shuran was too cautious to leave evidence, and Youyao was no threat. Still, nothing was certain. If that pair went mad, anything was possible.

So she abandoned her notion of wandering alone. “You’re right.”

The maids breathed a sigh of relief. Jiang Li was about to search for Madam Lu’s party when she caught sight of someone not far off. “Ye Shijie?”

Since the palace banquet, Jiang Li had seldom gone to Mingyi Hall. The scandal with Jiang Yue’e had tainted the Jiang girls’ reputation, and the Old Madam had advised them to stay home until things blew over. Thus, she had not seen Ye Shijie.

Now, before a lantern vendor, Ye Shijie and a middle-aged man were selecting lanterns, chatting familiarly.

Jiang Li guessed it was someone Ye Shijie knew. She wanted to inquire about his recent circumstances, especially whether Li Lian was still seeking his alliance, so she started weaving through the crowd toward him.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else observed her every move.

Upstairs in Wangxian Tower, Kong Liu stared out the window at the bustling throng. He did not care much for lanterns and such—they hurt his eyes. But it was more entertaining than staying at the Duke’s mansion with boring court business. Besides, the lively scene was brightened by many lovely young ladies.

Tonight, among the beauties, Kong Liu spotted a familiar figure.

“Hey, it’s Second Miss Jiang!” He jumped up, calling to Ji Heng, “Come look! Didn’t think she’d be out at the lantern festival. But why is she alone, with no Jiang family in sight? Did she sneak out?”

Lu Ji, sipping tea, glanced down. “Who sneaks out with maids in tow? With this crowd, she probably got separated from her family.”

“Separated?” Kong Liu frowned. “There are plenty of scoundrels about—every year, girls are abducted at the lantern festival. Such a pretty girl is bound to attract trouble.”

“So what will you do?” Lu Ji asked, amused.

“I’ll help her find her family, of course!” Kong Liu replied self-righteously.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kong Liu,” Lu Ji laughed. “Not even a minister’s daughter would look twice at you, let alone a common girl. You’re hardly young anymore.”

“I’m not old!” Kong Liu spluttered. “This is the prime of life! You’re the old one—your beard’s down to your chest!”

Lu Ji was unfazed, smiling as he pointed out the window. “But how can you compare with young men? Look, isn’t Second Miss Jiang heading straight for Young Master Ye?”

At this, even Ji Heng’s fan-wielding companion, Ji Heng, glanced downstairs.

Sure enough, Jiang Li and her maids were pushing through the crowd toward the street opposite, struggling against the tide but never losing their sense of direction. Her goal was clear—the handsome young Ye Shijie.

“She wants to go to him,” Lu Ji observed. “Those cousins are close.”

“Of course—they’re kin,” Kong Liu said, distracted from his earlier gripes, watching intently.

Ji Heng, too, stood at the window, pondering. Suddenly he snapped his fan shut. “Wen Ji.”

His black-clad bodyguard appeared silently.

“Invite Second Miss Jiang upstairs.”

Lu Ji and Kong Liu both stared at him in surprise.

“Tell her I am inviting her to watch Jin Mantang’s opera with the best seat in the house.”

Kong Liu’s jaw dropped.

...

The crowd was dense indeed. Yanjing was much larger and busier than Tongxiang. Even at its most lively, Tongxiang could not compare to this press of people. It was hard to imagine the daily street being so congested.

She was nearly across when, just as she relaxed, preparing to lead her maids to Ye Shijie, a man in black blocked their path.

Tong’er nearly screamed, Baixue raised her fists. The man, expressionless, spoke word by word: “Second Miss Jiang, His Grace invites you to Jin Mantang’s opera, with the best seat at Wangxian Tower.”

“His Grace?” Jiang Li asked. “Ji Heng?”

Wen Ji was surprised—she named his master so calmly. He nodded.

Tong’er whispered, “Miss, this man just appeared out of nowhere. Is he bluffing?”

“He’s not,” Jiang Li replied. “He serves the Duke of Su.”

Wen Ji was even more astonished. She’d never seen him before—how could she be so certain? Then she spoke again, “The Duke of Su is known for his taste; a bodyguard this handsome could only be his.”

Wen Ji, standing firm, nearly stumbled at her words.

Tong’er now inspected Wen Ji seriously, then gasped, “He really is! Miss, he’s more handsome than any of our household guards—almost as good-looking as Second Young Master!”

Wen Ji: “...”

Baixue tugged Jiang Li’s sleeve. “Miss, should we go?”

Jiang Li glanced at Wen Ji, who showed no emotion. She considered, then sighed, “Let’s go.”

Tong’er was nervous, but Jiang Li was resigned. She knew that even if she refused, Ji Heng would find a way to compel her. His courtesy was only for show; at heart, he was always domineering.

No one could refuse him; he always had his ways.

Knowing when to yield is wise—Jiang Li could only say, “Let’s go.”

With her two maids, she followed Wen Ji to Wangxian Tower.

Ye Shijie, chatting and choosing lanterns with Ye Mingxuan, happened to catch a glimpse of a familiar figure. He almost called Jiang Li’s name, but before he could, she vanished into the crowd.

He wondered if he’d imagined it, staring blankly as Ye Mingxuan paid the vendor. “What’s wrong?” the elder asked.

“Nothing,” Ye Shijie replied, shaking his head. Surely it was a mistake—if Jiang Li were out, she would not be alone.

He must be imagining things.

...

Wangxian Tower was the grandest restaurant in Yanjing.

When Jiang Li was married into the Shen family, she had once passed it with her mother-in-law and Shen Ruyun. They had been envious, but she herself was indifferent—she had always been detached from such things. Still, she knew Wangxian Tower was a place of luxury, a haunt of the elite.

In her past life, she never set foot inside; now, she entered openly as an “honored guest”—though “invited” was not quite the word, still, it was legitimate.

There were already some people in the main hall below, but Jiang Li was led to a tea room on the second floor.

The Jiang household was extravagant, but Wangxian Tower surpassed it. The carpet alone was Persian long-pile embroidery, with gems set in the ceiling. The incense was a rare, exquisite fragrance—Xue Zhao would have said, “You can tell at a glance it’s expensive.”

In this lavish tea room, Wen Ji lifted the curtain for Jiang Li.

Inside, to her surprise, were not only Ji Heng but two others—one, a scholar in blue with a goatee, smiled politely. Jiang Li did not know him, but returned the greeting. The other was familiar—Kong Wei, the examiner from the archery trial, known as Kong Liu.

Kong Liu greeted her heartily, in his hoarse voice, “Second Miss Jiang!” He seemed eager to make conversation but could only manage, “You ride well and shoot straight, Miss!”

He sounded as if praising a soldier.

Lu Ji and Ji Heng both gave him odd looks.

Kong Liu scratched his head and grinned sheepishly.

Jiang Li then turned to Ji Heng, resplendent in a pale red robe that made his features all the more striking. His skin was whiter than powdered faces, lips redder than peach blossoms, with clear amber eyes—an ethereal beauty, as if he stepped out of a painting, even when idly toying with his golden fan.

“Why have you summoned me, Your Grace?” Jiang Li asked. She truly could not guess his purpose.

Ji Heng looked at her and suddenly smiled. “We are at least somewhat acquainted, Miss Jiang. No need to be so distant. It’s the Mid-Autumn Festival, and since fate brought us together, I invited you to enjoy the opera at Wangxian Tower.”

Jiang Li wondered since when they were so acquainted. If anything, their relationship was fraught with complications. Ji Heng had seen her maneuver against Abbess Jing’an and Liao Wu on Mount Qingcheng, and had witnessed her manipulating Shen Ruyun, muddying the waters between Zhou Yanbang and Jiang Yue’e. She, in turn, had uncovered Ji Heng’s dealings with the Li family. They knew each other’s secrets—at times, it seemed they were out to destroy one another.

Yet he spoke as if they were old, cordial friends.

And this was no chance encounter—he had sent for her, leaving her no choice.

“Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace, but I do not care for opera,” Jiang Li replied.

“If one wishes to make the opera better in future, one must study the masters,” Ji Heng said with a smile.

Jiang Li nearly lost her composure. Once again, he was reminding her of the palace banquet incident—a mistake she would never live down, for Ji Heng never missed a chance to hold it over her.

Kong Liu, perplexed by the subtle tension between them, tried to be amiable. “Second Miss Jiang, I saw you upstairs without a guard or family. Did you get separated? Every year at the festival, girls go missing—there are plenty of scoundrels, and even city guards are no guarantee. Better to watch the opera with us, and afterward we’ll escort you home, so you and your family can reunite safely.”

It was hard to refuse such kindness, and Kong Liu seemed more genuine than Ji Heng. Besides, he had a point—the crowds were thickening, the night deepening, and moving through the streets alone was unwise. Seeing her maids’ worried faces, Jiang Li decided to accept Kong Liu’s suggestion.

A gentle smile appeared on her face, “Thank you, Lord Kong.”

Kong Liu was pleased, glancing triumphantly at Lu Ji as if to say, “See? I didn’t frighten her off, I’m not so old yet!”

Lu Ji rolled his eyes.

Just then, the distinctive opening notes of the opera troupe sounded from below.

Jin Mantang’s performance was about to begin—the first act was starting.

---

Second Young Master Jiang Jingrui, with his love for the little rabbit lantern, truly has the heart of a maiden? (????ω????)