Chapter 423: 187. The Scented Sachet of the Cold Clothes Festival

187. The Scented Sachet of the Cold Clothes Festival

For the next few days, Xie Lingjiang came every morning.

Unless there was an important member of the Xunyang Prince's Mansion who had an itinerary out of the city, and for safety reasons she needed to accompany, she would arrive a little later.

Maybe it was because she felt that she had spent too little time accompanying Ru Shixiong for more than half a year, and had a compensatory psychology.

Xie Lingjiang, in the capacity of a staff member and private secretary, began to intervene in Ouyang Rong's work and life, just like when they were in Longcheng.

However, she didn't follow every moment. For example, right now, it was morning, and Ouyang Rong had to go to the Jiangzhou Inspection Office on the next street to report some materials to the Resident Censor and the Inspection Female Officials.

Xie Lingjiang didn't follow, just waited at the Jiangzhou Government Office, and agreed to return to the mansion on Huaiye Lane for lunch at noon.

This was also their daily routine at noon recently, making Aunt Zhen Shuyuan smile from ear to ear, personally cooking for several days in a row. The most critical thing was that she didn't stew silkie chicken, yam, and red date soup much anymore.

Sure enough, the only one who could control Aunt was Xiao Shimei, the daughter of a great family.

Si Chu Two Quarter, Ouyang Rong arrived at the Inspection Office and walked into a public office hall familiarly.

Rong Zhen was in her seat, dipping her fingers in tea water, writing and drawing something on the table.

Ouyang Rong walked closer.

Rong Zhen didn't raise her eyes, her sleeves brushed the table, sweeping away the water stains.

Ouyang Rong smelled a faint scent of osmanthus, even masking the tea fragrance.

He sat in the seat next to her and glanced at the teacup Rong Zhen used to dip water with her fingers. There were osmanthus petals in it.

"Didn't be late today."

Rong Zhen wiped her hands.

"Doesn't seem like I've been late any day."

"But every time it's very punctual. Presumably, the Jiangzhou Government Office is also quite busy, needing to step on the point."

Ouyang Rong coughed and didn't answer, talking about official business.

However, while talking, he looked around.

Seeing this, Rong Zhen made a straight face, took an oil paper bag from her sleeve, and handed it over.

"Next time you solve your breakfast yourself, I don't have the time to bring it to you every day."

Ouyang Rong didn't stand on ceremony, opened the oil paper bag, took a bite of the sesame pancake, and said vaguely:

"Good."

"What have you been doing every morning?"

"Said, busy."

Ouyang Rong's mouth was stuffed with pancakes, and his speech was intermittent. Rong Zhen's mouth turned down, not wanting to pay attention to someone anymore.

The breakfast for these past few days was brought by her.

At the beginning, it was Rong Zhen who took the initiative. Later, Ouyang Rong even took it for granted, asking every time he came, if there was anything to eat, treating this place like a kitchen.

Her face turned a bit cold.

After discussing official business, Ouyang Rong prepared to leave and walk away.

However, looking at Rong Zhen's silent expression, and the fact that there was no movement of crisp wooden fish sounds in his ears for a long time.

His movements paused, his butt sat back in the seat, and he poured tea for himself.

Then, under the unkind gaze of a certain female historiographer, he also refilled her teacup.

"This golden autumn osmanthus has bloomed again." Ouyang Rong smiled.

"If you have nothing to say, you can not say it."

"Have, how could there be nothing to say. Speaking truly, Rong Zhen, every time I see you, I have a

"Doesn't that just mean you have nothing to say?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head firmly.

"It's the exact opposite; seeing you, I don't want to speak at all."

"Then it must be the same as me—wanting to speak but feeling too embarrassed to open my mouth, and then forgetting."

Rong Zhen was noncommittal; she took a sip of tea and asked in return:

"What exactly do you want to say?"

Ouyang Rong pointed to the water stains on the tabletop: "What are you writing?"

"I won't tell you."

In the atmosphere of their private chat, Ouyang Rong suddenly put on a sorrowful, sighing expression, his tone melancholic:

"Alas, as expected of Rong Zhen, the genius of the Yin-Yang School, possessor of the Innate Yin-Yang Sacred Body, known as the Little Director of the Astronomical Bureau, Lady Rong—there is already a pathetic, thick barrier between us. That life-and-death camaraderie in the Xingzi Lane courtyard has become nothing but smoke and clouds.

"Fine, I understand. You're probably calculating your future promotion back to the capital; a small official like me certainly shouldn't ask. If Lady Rong can put in a good word for me before His Majesty in the future, this subordinate will already be satisfied."

"What thick barrier? What nonsense are you spouting?"

Rong Zhen shot him a reproachful look.

Ouyang Rong asked back with a straight face:

"Just tell me if it's true or not. Aren't you the promising Lady Rong who entered Grade 6 at the age of jade and can enter the Top-grade at the age of flowers? Unlike me, who can only shrink away in tiny Jiangzhou, working myself to death."

"What does this have to do with me not telling you? Can't it just be that I'm in a bad mood and don't want to deal with you, without meaning to look down on you?"

Rong Zhen set down her teacup, sat up straight, and asked with a deadpan expression.

Ouyang Rong suddenly realized: "So it was just a bad mood, then it's nothing, goodbye..."

"Nothing?" The face that had just softened immediately pulled down.

"Just kidding." Ouyang Rong, who had made a show of leaving, sat back down and made a gesture of listening intently: "You speak, I listen. We're friends, if you're unhappy you can say it, let me also... be unable to be happy for a moment, mm, empathy."

Rong Zhen lowered her eyelids and said softly: "I'm better now, don't ask."

"Fine."

He really stopped asking, but as a result, Ouyang Rong, who had just stood up to leave, was frozen by Rong Zhen's words:

"You only praise others, but aren't you also promising? Such a young Prefectural Historian of a prefecture—looking at the current dynasty, you are the first."

Ouyang Rong sighed:

"That's also a life of toil; maybe I'm a Prefectural Historian now, but ten years later, after going in circles, I'll still be a Prefectural Historian of some prefecture."

Rong Zhen, however, corrected him with a serious face:

"Ouyang Lianghan, you have already done very well; at least... you are the best I have ever seen, no need to belittle yourself.

"Perhaps, we might meet again in Luodu next year."

"Then I'll take your auspicious words."

Rong Zhen thought for a moment and gave an unusual instruction:

"After the Donglin Great Buddha is finished, your merit will certainly be enough. At that time, absolutely do not decline a capital official post again, understand? Ouyang Lianghan, are you listening?"

"I am. Uh, looking at it this way, we can indeed meet in the capital; the merit of the Donglin Great Buddha is enough for you to go back too."

Rong Zhen shook her head: "I will certainly go back, but I cannot say when. Until I find that lecher who wrote 'Butterfly Loves Flower', I will not leave."

Ouyang Rong asked calmly: "Uh, what if he is no longer in Xunyang? You can't just keep wasting your time here."

Rong Zhen was silent for a while and nodded slowly: "I have a premonition that this lecher is still in Xunyang."

"Premonition? Then it's fine, a woman's premonition is usually very accurate." He nodded to express his approval.

"You also believe in my judgment?"

"Mm."

Rong Zhen turned her head, looking at his profile with a dazed expression, and murmured:

"The surrounding female officials and colleagues now complain about me in private, thinking I'm obsessed—in Buddhist terms, it's called being attached to appearances. Over in Luoyang, the people in the Bureau also have quite a few criticisms.

"Ouyang Lianghan, now only you believe in me."

Ouyang Rong sighed: "Mainly because I... quite admire you. This spirit is quite good; still the same saying, struggling with people is endless joy. I am like this, and I give it to you too."

"Good."

She nodded heavily, murmuring in her mouth: "What a good 'endless joy'."

Ouyang Rong lowered his eyes to drink tea and reached out to silently refill her cup.

On either side of the tea table, the two fell into a tacit silence.

A moment later, Rong Zhen came back to her senses, tilted her head to look at the free-spirited, easygoing, and likable young Prefectural Historian before her, and asked:

"Do you know what festival is tomorrow?"

"What festival?"

"Cold Clothing Festival."

"What kind of festival is this?" Ouyang Rong asked curiously: "It sounds familiar."

"The Cold Clothing Festival is not really celebrated here in Jiang Nan; the common people in the Guanzhong and the two capitals like to celebrate it. His Majesty also loves festivity; every year during the Cold Clothing Festival, he grants clothing to the hundred officials and simultaneously bestows some sachets in the palace..."

"Oh."

Ouyang Rong said indifferently:

"No wonder, I was wondering why I had no impression of it; it turns out it's a festival for city people... mainly because there's no holiday, otherwise I would definitely have a deep memory of it, and would never forget it even if I died."

He smiled again.

Rong Zhen pursed her lips, took an object from her sleeve, and tossed it onto someone's lap.

"In Luodu, every Cold Clothing Festival, besides beauties gifting clothing, some... close friends also gift each other sachets. It counts as warding off evil and praying for blessings, but it needs to be worn for a day on that day to be effective."

"This is..."

Ouyang Rong looked blankly at the sachet in his hand, sniffed it with his nose, and discovered it had a rich osmanthus fragrance. He only heard Rong Zhen say again:

"This batch of female officials in our Inspection Bureau all come from the capital. They haven't returned this year, and having nothing to do in their leisure time, they insisted on making a few sachets and picked some golden autumn osmanthus seeds to put inside. They gave me one extra, and it just happened to be left over. You take it, wear it tomorrow to ward off evil."

After a pause, she stared at the scenery outside and said: "Remember, you must wear it for a day."

"Oh, oh, good."

Ouyang Rong left in a daze, carrying this osmanthus-scented sachet.

Leaving the door and returning to the carriage, he lowered his head to examine this sachet.

The pattern on it should have been embroidered by a woman herself, stitch by stitch. At a glance, it was not made with the exquisite embroidery skills of marketplace shops, but rather with clumsy, unskilled craftsmanship. It seems it really was made by those female officials in their spare time.

A faint, clear fragrance of osmanthus wafted from the sachet.

"These female officials are really idle, and so is Rong Zhen... wait, wear it for a day?"

Ouyang Rong reacted and quietly glanced toward the Jiangzhou main hall where someone was waiting.

"I have to come over again tomorrow morning... alas, why celebrate the Cold Clothing Festival? Jiang Nan is better, without these flashy things."

He silently put the sachet away. Thinking about it, he felt it wasn't safe, so he took out a box, put it inside, and covered the scent.

After hiding the box well, he immediately opened the doors and windows to ventilate.

"Ali, don't go back to the Jiangzhou main hall yet, stroll around outside twice." Ouyang Rong suddenly ordered.

"Yes, Tanlang."

After the carriage strolled around the nearby streets twice, feeling that the smell inside the carriage had dissipated quite a bit, he then returned to the Jiangzhou main hall in a leisurely manner.

"That, sorry for the trouble, go wash the carriage cabin, come pick up me and the Xiao Shimei at noon."

Ouyang Rong gave another order and turned to enter the main hall.

In the empty corridor, he took off his clothes and shook them, frowned and sniffed. When passing the corridor, he stopped, broke off a sprig of osmanthus, and hid it in his sleeve.

"Ru Shixiong is back?"

"Mm."

"This is..."

"A gift for you."

"Why break off a branch for no reason?"

"I felt it was very fragrant and wanted you to smell it too."

Looking at the dead-serious Ouyang Rong, Xie Lingjiang complained, but her body was still very honest as she took it and lowered her head to take a shallow sniff.

A moment later, she placed it in a vase and helped him arrange it on his office desk.

The two went back to eat at noon and arrived at the Xunyang Prince's Mansion in the evening to discuss matters.

After dinner, everyone dispersed.

Ouyang Rong sent Xie Lingjiang back to her courtyard.

He happened to run into Li Dalang, and the two walked together in the corridor.

Li Dalang sent Ouyang Rong out the door, the former instructing:

"Tomorrow is a festival, Lianghan, come over to eat tomorrow night too, together with Miss Xie."

"What festival?" Ouyang Rong asked subconsciously.

"The Cold Clothing Festival, our family celebrates it every year. Oh, I remember, that time last year, we were still at the Su residence in Longcheng, Lianghan was still controlling the floods, and we weren't familiar with each other."

Hearing the three words "Cold Clothing Festival", Ouyang Rong coughed and prepared to find an excuse to politely decline.

Just at this moment, Li Guoer suddenly walked over with Caishou and other maidservants.

"Brother, wait."

She took a sachet from her sleeve and handed it to Li Dalang.

Then she glanced at Ouyang Rong.

"It just so happens you are here too, there was one extra, used for practice, here."

Li Guoer took another one and tossed it to him, saying at the same time:

"This sachet has the meaning of warding off evil. I put the petals of the withered chrysanthemums from the corner of the courtyard inside. Rather than sadly burying flowers, it is better to protect the living. Mm, you come over tomorrow to eat Mother's dinner, remember to wear it."

"Sister can also embroider and make sachets?" Li Dalang asked curiously.

Ouyang Rong's face changed slightly. Just as he wanted to hand back the sachet, Caishou had already spoken crisply:

"Dalang, Young Master Ouyang, you don't know, this is the first time the Young Lady has embroidered. She even made two, I was still wondering why she made one extra..."

"Caishou."

Li Guoer spoke suddenly, and the little maid with the bun face immediately shut her mouth.

The young lady with the plum blossom makeup looked straight at Li Dalang, not looking at Ouyang Rong.

"Practice."

She said to her brother again:

"For the Cold Clothing Festival, one should grant clothing, but I don't know how to make clothes, leave it to Mother. Sachets are simple, Brother, just don't dislike it."

"It's already very impressive, many thanks Sister, Sister is truly thoughtful."

Li Dalang had a happy expression.

Ouyang Rong couldn't help but glance at Li Guoer's profile.

Li Guoer was surrounded by a group of maidservants. Before leaving, when passing in front of Ouyang Rong, she stopped and asked:

"Was that pill useful last time?"

"A great life-saving favor, many thanks Princess for your generosity."

Ouyang Rong sighed, his tone sincere:

"This one owes the Princess a favor."

Like Lu Ya said, that pill, a gift from the Yuqing Sect Master, was indeed very precious, yet at his request, the little Princess with the plum blossom makeup gave it to him without a second word.

Li Guoer nodded calmly: "That's fine. The favor is waived."

She turned and walked away.

Ouyang Rong swallowed his original words of refusal, lowered his head to look at Li Guoer's sachet, and after a while, he silently looked at Li Dalang again.

Only to see his good friend happily wearing the sachet, with the expression of a gratified brother who hadn't spoiled his sister in vain.

"Lianghan, why are you looking at me?"

"Nothing, just wanted to look at you."

Li Dalang shrank his head: "Don't be like this, I'm a little scared."

Ouyang Rong ignored him, turned his head to stare at the Xiao Shimei's boudoir courtyard not far away, and suddenly asked:

"Dalang, over in Jin Ling... do they celebrate the Cold Clothing Festival?"

"Seems like they do, why don't you ask Miss Xie and you'll know. I remember last year she even mailed a sachet to Mr. Xie in Luoyang."

"Understood."

He nodded.

Li Dalang tied his sachet, clapped his hands, and left satisfied, not forgetting to instruct:

"Tanlang, remember to come eat tomorrow night, Mother should be cooking herself, alas, you really have a good appetite..."

"Good, will definitely be there."

Li Dalang passed by Ouyang Rong's side, but the latter suddenly reached out, yanked the sachet from Li Dalang's waist, and then calmly put it into his bosom, as if it were his own.

"Lianghan, what are you doing? Don't you have one, why are you grabbing mine!" He asked urgently.

"Emergency rescue, don't ask."

Without waiting for his friend to ask more, Ouyang Rong had already turned and slipped away.

(End of chapter)