Chapter 354: The River

On the fifteenth day of the seventh month, the Ghost Festival, the Earl's Mansion in Juede Lane.

Of the Jia family's two mansions, only the eastern mansion's Huifang Garden drew flowing water from the Liuyang River in the eastern city, forming vast canals and pavilions within its grounds.

Many pavilions, terraces, and towers in Huifang Garden were built beside the water, elegant and magnificent; later, the Grand View Garden was rebuilt upon this layout.

Amid the canals and pavilions of the garden, emerald lotuses and water lilies were planted in scattered clusters, flourishing lushly in midsummer.

Though the blossoms closed at nightfall, the emerald leaves spread like canopies; the evening breeze stirred them, swaying gracefully, real yet illusory.

Two pleasure boats drifted on the river, their silver-bell laughter mingling with the flickering starlight, echoing across the emerald waters.

Today was the Ghost Festival; after the morning rituals of ancestral worship and paper burning, Jia Cong followed the custom and invited the sisters from the western mansion to tour the lake at the eastern mansion.

Of course, out of courtesy, he also invited Jia Mu, Lady Wang, and other female relatives—but Jia Mu declined, claiming ill health; and if Jia Mu did not come, Lady Wang naturally had no reason to attend.

Since Jia Cong moved into the eastern mansion and kept its gates tightly guarded, rejecting several schemes concocted by Jia Mu, the old lady had long been resentful and had no intention of supporting this wayward grandson.

Sister Yuanyang found this odd, but after a moment's thought, she understood something.

Jia Baoyu heard the news that so many sisters were going to play there and wanted to join too, but he had been beaten so badly by his father that he could still not move freely, and reluctantly gave up.

The young ladies on the two boats placed lit river lanterns one by one into the water; the flames reflected on the ripples, drifting with the current, as if intertwining with the stars above.

Yet all these young ladies and maids were skilled with needle and thread, adept at embroidery, and deft-handed; they laughed and painted auspicious patterns—peonies, birds—on the lanterns before releasing them into the river for amusement.

…

But this suited Jia Cong perfectly; the two of them detested each other, and being together only made them both uneasy.

On that boat, Jia Cong was laughing and chatting with Lin Daiyu, Seeing Tan Chun, and the other sisters, while Seeing Jin Jin Chuan stared blankly at the river lantern, and at the exquisite, peerless face reflected in the shimmering water…

Jia Cong was glad to have invited Lin Daiyu, Xue Baochai, Seeing Tan Chun, Seeing Yingchun, Little Xichun, and the others; Qingwen had also gone to fetch her close friends—Sister Yuanyang, Sister Hupo, Seeing Jin Jin Chuan—to join the outing.

Lin Daiyu smiled on the boat: "Third brother's poetic talent is peerless, but since you wrote several poems in Jin Ling last time, we've seen no new verses. Such talent wasted is a pity."

Lighting river lanterns is a major Ghost Festival custom, and a necessary act for the women of the inner quarters to pray and make wishes.

Seeing Jin Jin Chuan gazed at the lantern, lost in thought, then released it into the water; it drifted, bobbing, downstream—directly toward the boat ahead.

Seeing Tan Chun laughed beside her: "Look at what Third Brother says—if his poems aren't good, then all poets in the world ought to be ashamed."

Sister Yuanyang noticed Seeing Jin Jin Chuan's expression, curious, and followed her gaze; beside the swaying lantern, the flickering reflection of the young boy in the water made her own heart tremble, her cheeks flushing warm.

Today, with sisters together, fine hour and beautiful scene—Third Brother, have you written anything new?"

On this Ghost Festival, each sister had composed a few poems; even little Little Xichun, who had only recently begun reading, had made up a verse to suit the occasion.

Since becoming Xue Baochai's maid, Seeing Jin Jin Chuan had come back to life; though still forthright, her manner had grown more composed, as if she had suddenly matured.

Lin Daiyu, the three Chun sisters, Zhi Shao, Zhen Ying Lady Lian, and others each had rich literary talent, and wrote poems and couplets on their lanterns for refined amusement.

Sister Yuanyang noticed the pattern Seeing Jin Jin Chuan had painted on her lantern and felt a faint surprise: Seeing Jin Jin Chuan had not drawn flowers or birds, but an eight-cornered, exquisitely carved well.

Jia Cong could not bear their teasing; he glanced at the clear, shimmering eyes beside him, the beauty like lotus and peach blossoms—unbearably lovely—and took a blank lantern, picking up his brush to write:

Qingwen, Wu'er, Hearing Zi Juan, Sister Yuanyang, and others lacked literary grace; some could not even read.

Jia Cong laughed: "It's not that I refuse to write often—it's just that my talent is limited, and I can't keep producing good work. I'd only invite ridicule."

Lotus filaments bloom clear in the fire, tender red and lush green entwined.

Glittering like stars scattered across the sky, still as floating cups drifting gently.

Reborn, how could one know mere forms are empty? In this mortal world, calamity becomes fate.

When will youth's frost and wind end? Fish and dragons beneath the water, soft with fragrant longing.

Since Jia Cong returned from Jin Ling last year, no one had seen him write poetry; now, seeing him pick up his brush again, all gathered curiously around.

Only the first two lines—each read them and felt their fragrance linger on the tongue; this night of sisters boating on the Ghost Festival, releasing lanterns, had been perfectly captured by these opening lines.

Everyone here was young, in the prime of beauty—wasn't this the very time of tender red and lush green? And Jia Cong had compared them to stars scattered across the sky, still as floating cups drifting gently.

Lin Daiyu, Seeing Tan Chun, and the others sensed in the verses Jia Cong's praise and admiration for them; each felt warmth and joy within.

But when they reached the third line: Reborn, how could one know mere forms are empty? In this mortal world, calamity becomes fate.

Each felt a faint confusion; they knew Jia Cong was exceptional in both literature and martial arts, resolute in will, far beyond ordinary men—yet he spoke such elusive words.

Xue Baochai, well-read in diverse subjects and familiar with Buddhist sutras and Daoist texts, recognized in Jia Cong's line a sense of transcendence and rebirth.

But how could such a young man, so successful, harbor such thoughts…?

When all read the final line: When will youth's frost and wind end? Fish and dragons beneath the water, soft with fragrant longing.

Seeing Yingchun felt only sibling affection; Little Xichun was too young to understand; the rest sensed the romantic, languid beauty—and stirred with longing, affection, and envy…

…

July fifteenth, the Ghost Festival, Jin Ling.

Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's mansion stood on Linqing Street in eastern Jin Ling, a prosperous district where shops lined both ends of the street, and vendors set up early each morning to earn their living.

Yet near the Zhou mansion, the street was exceptionally clean, rarely a vendor dared to set up shop nearby.

In Jin Ling, eight out of ten people knew this mansion housed a major figure: the Commander of the Jin Ling Guard, Zhou Zhou Zhengyang, who commanded thousands of troops guarding the city.

Thus, the two gatekeepers at Zhou Mansion had no fear of anyone foolish enough to provoke them.

Early that morning, lazily rising, they opened the gates, dragged out a long bench, and sat outside, yawning with boredom.

Suddenly, thunderous hoofbeats and chaotic footsteps echoed from the far end of the street; the two gatekeepers looked up, startled.

Since Zhou Zhou Zhengyang moved into Linqing Street, who in Jin Ling didn't know? Who would dare make such noise here? Wasn't that asking for trouble?

They were about to rise and investigate, ready to scold harshly.

Before they could stand, a flood of Embroidered Uniform Guards in flying-fish robes, swords at their sides, fierce and terrifying, surged toward the gate like a tide.

The two gatekeepers had never seen such a scene; their faces turned pale. One, summoning courage, shouted: "Do you know whose mansion this is? How dare you act so boldly here!"

Before he finished speaking, the lead Embroidered Uniform Company Commander swiftly drew his sword-hilt, striking once—the man's mouth filled with blood, two broken teeth spitting out.

The two gatekeepers were thrown to the ground; others kicked open the gates and surged into the Zhou mansion; soon, screams of terror erupted within, chaos spreading.

Yang Yang Hongbin also dismounted swiftly, leading his imperial guards, entering the mansion in tandem.

This was Jin Ling; he was arresting the Regional Commander of the Jin Ling Guard, and the operation was aided by the Jin Ling Embroidered Uniform Guard's Battalion Command—yet for them, he remained an outsider.

He had to remain cautious and meticulous.

Yang Yang Hongbin surrounded the Zhou mansion with over two hundred Embroidered Uniform Guards, turning the entire estate upside down—but the final result sank his heart.

The current head of the Zhou mansion was one of Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's concubines, and his illegitimate daughter.

According to them, Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's wife had returned to her parents' home two days prior, taking with her his ten-year-old legitimate son.

Zhou Zhou Zhengyang himself had left yesterday to inspect training at his subordinate battalion commands and had not returned; such absences were common, so the household paid no mind.

Then an Embroidered Uniform Guard reported: Captain Ge Zhi Cheng had led another force to storm the Jin Ling Guard Command Headquarters—also empty, no one captured.

Yang Yang Hongbin stared at the ground, where dozens of Zhou family concubines and servants knelt in fear—his face turned ashen.

Since arriving in Jin Ling from the Divine Capital, traveling light and fast, he had been extra cautious, precisely because Zhou Zhou Zhengyang's position in Jin Ling was so sensitive; any leak could trigger disaster.

Yet he still escaped. Yang Yang Hongbin was certain the leak had not occurred after his arrival in Jin Ling.

Because Zhou Zhou Zhengyang had already left home and not returned yesterday—when Yang Yang Hongbin was still en route to Jin Ling.

His wife and child had even left Jin Ling days earlier, under the pretense of visiting relatives.

This meant Zhou Zhou Zhengyang had known of the court's investigation long before, and had calmly arranged his and his family's escape.

To avoid suspicion, he had even sacrificed his concubine and illegitimate daughter as decoys.

Yang Yang Hongbin deduced: shortly after obtaining Zhou Zhou Suqing's confession, the news had leaked from the Divine Capital.

Someone had raced from the Divine Capital, arriving before Yang Yang Hongbin, delivering the warning to Zhou Zhou Zhengyang.

Thinking of this, Yang Yang Hongbin felt a chill; the old Water Surveillance case had not only exposed a third-rank commander of the Jin Ling Guard—but also implicated certain figures in the Divine Capital.

(End of Chapter)