Chapter 567: Transformation of Calamity, Entangled Fate

Lady Rongguo Prefecture, Jia Baoyu's Courtyard.

Under Zhang Zhang Youshi's silver needles, Jia Baoyu suddenly awoke, startling everyone in the room.

Jia Mu and Lady Wang wore faces of joyful relief; Xi Ren, She Nan Yue, and the other maids all sighed with relief, as if they had narrowly escaped death.

The expressions in the room varied, and several people cast at Jia Baoyu looks that were truly peculiar…

At that moment, Jia Cong entered the room with Zi Juan, witnessing the scene, a faint cold smile curling at his lips.

Zhang Zhang Youshi smiled calmly as he tucked the needles into his medicine case; the Hu Taiyi, who had been ordered to administer medicine for three days, looked embarrassed and helpless…

Jia Cong stepped forward with a smile and said: "Master Zhang, your medical skill is exquisite, your acupuncture peerless—your effect is immediate. I am deeply impressed!"

Zhang Zhang Youshi smiled and replied: "Illnesses in this world are countless; as long as one observes, listens, asks, and palpates, then prescribes accordingly, it is merely a small art—hardly worthy of the Lord Weiyuan Bo's lavish praise."

The young master merely suffers a minor ailment, not a serious illness. I will prescribe two more doses of a calming, spirit-stabilizing decoction; after two days' intake, he will be fully recovered."

Zhang Zhang Youshi's tone downplayed everything, as if no decoction was truly needed—that Jia Baoyu was already perfectly fine, and the prescriptions were merely for appearances.

Jia Cong said to Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife at the doorway: "Lin Lin Dama, take Master Zhang to the side hall for tea and write out the prescription. Pay him double the usual fee as a token of gratitude."

Zhang Zhang Youshi bowed humbly: "Lord Weiyuan Bo, you are far too courteous. A physician's heart is like a parent's; the young master's slight ailment is no complex or miraculous case. Double payment would be too much—I dare not accept."

Jia Cong laughed: "Master Zhang, you are too modest. Extraordinary illnesses demand extraordinary methods. Who knows? You may yet be called upon to perform your miraculous needlecraft again."

At this moment, Jia Baoyu suddenly awoke, and everyone in the room surged toward the bed, crowding tightly.

Thus, many failed to notice the exchange between Jia Cong and Zhang Zhang Youshi.

But Wang Wang Xifeng, with her swollen figure, naturally could not join the crowd; she remained seated, with Ping Er and Feng Er standing beside her.

They both heard Jia Cong's words. Ping Er, amused by his half-serious tone, blushed deeply but dared not laugh, lowering her head even further.

Wang Wang Xifeng saw Jia Cong neglecting Jia Baoyu's bedside, instead bantering with the needle-wielding physician—clearly, she held deep contempt for Jia Baoyu's strange illness.

She also heard him solemnly instruct Zhang Zhang Youshi to use his miraculous needles again if needed in the future; she was already laughing inwardly, barely suppressing it, her refined lips twitching constantly.

Suddenly, her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she pressed her hand to her bulging abdomen—the suppressed laughter had disturbed her fetal qi. She took several deep breaths to soothe herself…

…

Jia Baoyu had just awakened. Xi Ren noticed the glaring needle puncture on his left thumb, still oozing a thread of blood—like a cruel irony—and felt a strange unease.

She quickly fetched a soft red silk pillow, propped it behind Jia Baoyu's back, and helped him sit up.

Jia Mu and Lady Wang beamed with affection, surrounding the bed, offering endless words of comfort and tenderness.

Jia Baoyu saw the room filled with people, every face brimming with concern; he felt warmth and comfort swell in his chest, and the sharp pain from the needle's thrust in his thumb faded considerably.

His gaze swept across the crowd, but he failed to spot the elegant figure he most longed to see—and a wave of grievance surged in his heart.

Seeing Jia Mu and Lady Wang's tender eyes, his frustration surged into wild frenzy. He cried out: "This is terrible! The Lin family is coming to take Lin Lin Meimei back to Su Zhou—and they're taking me too!"

Perhaps because he had lain stiff and breathless for so long, his voice was weak and strained; the scream sounded twisted, like a crow's hoarse screech.

Jia Mu, old and frail, was startled by Jia Baoyu's sudden outburst and shuddered.

Lady Wang remained calmer, soothing him gently; yet Jia Baoyu grew even more hysterical, repeating over and over: "Lin Lin Meimei must not return south!"

Jia Mu comforted him: "Don't speak nonsense. Jia Baoyu, rest easy—Lin Lin Meimei will not return to Su Zhou. I won't allow it. Just calm down."

Jia Baoyu then heard Jia Cong call out "Lin Lin Dama," and screamed again: "Oh no! The Lin family has come to take her! Don't let them take her away!"

Jia Mu soothed: "Where would the Lin family come from? They're three thousand li away—they won't arrive for ten days or more. Even if they did, I wouldn't let them take her."

Jia Baoyu grew more fervent: "Besides Lin Lin Meimei, no one else is allowed to bear the surname Lin!"

Jia Mu hurriedly replied: "No one with the surname Lin has come. Everyone with that surname has been driven out."

She added to those around: "Also send away Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife. From now on, she's not to enter the garden."

At this, everyone wanted to laugh but dared not make a sound.

Jia Baoyu, fully immersed, spotted a golden Western self-propelled ship on the display shelf and pointed wildly: "That's the ship come to take Lin Lin Meimei—it's anchored right there!"

Jia Mu ordered someone to remove it. Jia Baoyu reached out, trying to tuck it under his quilt, grinning foolishly: "Now it can't go anywhere!"

…

Meanwhile, everyone else dared not laugh—except Jia Cong, whose face bore a smile, watching the scene with keen interest. It felt familiar, even reminiscent of famous scenes.

He had never imagined in his dreams that such a heartfelt drama, when lived out in reality, would be so absurd and ridiculous—like a third-rate troupe's shabby performance.

Beside him, Zi Juan bit her soft pink lips, barely holding back laughter. Seeing Jia Cong's unrestrained grin, she felt it improper and tugged his sleeve a few times as a warning.

At that moment, Jia Baoyu caught sight of Zi Juan standing beside Jia Cong through the crowd—graceful, elegant, poised—and his eyes brightened.

Suddenly, he sprang up with startling energy, startling Xi Ren terribly.

He dashed toward Zi Juan, shrieking: "Zi Juan, you're here too! Is Lin Lin Meimei coming to see me? Where is she?"

Zi Juan, startled by his sudden charge and flailing hands, screamed "Ah!" and instantly ducked behind Jia Cong, clutching his robes tightly.

Jia Cong turned slightly, stepping between them, his gaze calm and cold as he fixed Jia Baoyu without speaking.

Jia Baoyu met Jia Cong's steady stare and felt a flicker of guilt; his bravado wilted—but remembering Grandmother and Lady Wang were present, his courage returned.

He continued his hysterical rant: "Zi Juan, you know how I feel for my sister. You must not leave—if you go, you'll take Lin Lin Meimei south with you…"

Jia Cong had been watching like a spectator, but hearing Jia Baoyu's absurd words, his patience vanished. Anger flared—he was about to speak.

Then a furious voice roared from the doorway: "You shameless beast! What are you causing trouble for now?"

The rebuke was harsh, merciless, utterly out of place amid the room's previously indulgent, soft atmosphere.

It was as if someone had kicked over a pot of hot soup, then poured a bucket of ice water over it—making everyone recoil, teeth gritting, an inexplicable chill rising in their hearts.

Jia Baoyu trembled violently. His wild frenzy vanished instantly; his sentimental posturing disappeared. His legs went weak, threatening to collapse—and he dared not even let out a fart.

Jia Cong turned to see Jia Zheng entering the room, face stern, eyes blazing, glaring furiously at Jia Baoyu.

…

Though Wang Wang Xifeng had sent word to the Eastern Courtyard early, Jia Zheng had been at the office all day and received no news. Lady Wang, hearing of Jia Baoyu's illness, sent a servant to the Ministry of Public Works to report.

Though angered by his son's worthlessness, Jia Zheng was terrified upon hearing Jia Baoyu had fallen gravely ill, possibly dying. He immediately requested leave from his superior and rushed home.

As he entered the inner courtyard, he met Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife escorting Zhang Zhang Youshi out, and asked about Jia Baoyu's condition.

Lin Lin Zhixiao's wife still harbored resentment over Lady Wang's humiliation of her daughter. Now that the second branch had moved to the Eastern Courtyard, yet a "tai sui" remained in the Western Mansion, requiring daily careful service—she was already weary.

She had not only heard Xi Ren recount the events, but had witnessed firsthand Zhang Zhang Youshi's miraculous needles—how instantly effective.

As a longtime servant of Lady Rongguo Prefecture, she knew the truth perfectly well.

When Jia Zheng inquired about Jia Baoyu, she gave no concealment—spelling out every detail plainly and thoroughly.

As the saying goes: no one knows a son better than his father. Jia Zheng, hearing the full story, understood perfectly—Jia Baoyu had pulled similar stunts countless times since childhood.

He thought: his son was now of age to take up arms, while others had already achieved merit; yet Jia Baoyu remained useless, wasting his days in the inner quarters, playing these laughable tricks.

Jia Zheng felt profound disappointment, and waves of rage surged through him—he longed to storm into the inner courtyard and cut down this disobedient son on the spot, restoring the moral integrity of the second branch.

…

Jia Cong saw Jia Zheng arrive and knew this farce must end abruptly.

He said: "Jia Baoyu, Lin Lin Meimei is unwell and must recuperate in the Eastern Mansion. She will not come to see you. She sent Zi Juan here as a matter of propriety."

"Zi Juan, Jia Baoyu is now recovered. Lin Lin Meimei cannot do without your care—return quickly and attend to her. Don't waste time here."

Zi Juan, hearing this, felt as if freed from a death sentence. Her face lit up with joy; her bright eyes regarded Jia Cong with deep admiration. She bowed slightly and hurried away.

Jia Baoyu, unwilling, cried out: "Zi Juan…"

Zi Juan, startled, didn't dare look back—she quickened her pace and fled the room.

Jia Baoyu, lost in thoughts of Lin Daiyu, instinctively moved to chase after her.

Then Jia Zheng roared: "You wretched brat! How dare you act so recklessly!"

Jia Baoyu screamed in terror, scrambling back to the bed and diving into Jia Mu's arms: "Grandmother, save me!"

Jia Cong saw Jia Baoyu, cowed by Jia Zheng's presence, move with startling agility—almost equal to his own. Where was the illness? Wang Wang Xifeng, watching Jia Baoyu's form, found him even more repulsive. Besides, now that Jia Zheng had entered the inner courtyard, the usual female relatives must withdraw.

She, burdened by her swollen body, had no reason to stay. She had Ping Er and Feng Er help her leave; the other female relatives followed Wang Wang Xifeng out.

Moments before, the room had been packed with people; now, like a receding tide, it emptied swiftly, leaving cold and emptiness.

Only Jia Zheng and Jia Cong remained, along with Jia Mu, Lady Wang, Xi Ren, and the other maids.

…

Jia Mu, displeased by Jia Zheng's brutality toward Jia Baoyu, said: "Jia Baoyu is your own flesh and blood. Why must you return home with such a terrible face—always beating, always scolding?"

"You frighten him so badly he flees you like a mouse from a cat, weakening his body until he falls ill at every turn. Can you, as a father, bear it?"

Jia Zheng's face flushed with fury: "Mother, if he showed even a shred of ambition, why would I be so angry? I've already heard the whole story upon returning home."

"Lin Tan Yatou merely advised him to study and pursue his education—reasonable, sound words. He refused to listen, fine.

But he chose instead to throw tantrums, act the fool, pretend innocence—thinking no one sees through him. Truly shameless, displaying every grotesque posture. How could Lin Tan Yatou ever look upon a man like him?"

"Lin Tan Yatou is from Su Zhou. She still has her father alive. Returning to her homeland is only natural. How dare this beast interfere? Doesn't he feel ashamed?"

Jia Zheng's words were like daggers, each piercing Jia Baoyu's deepest secrets, stripping him bare. His face flushed red then paled, desperate to find a crack in the floor to crawl into.

When he heard: "How could Lin Tan Yatou ever look upon a man like him?"—Jia Baoyu's shame and rage exploded. The world spun. He screamed inwardly—but dared not utter a single word.

He was about to roll his eyes and faint again, as usual, to vent and perform—but remembered Jia Zheng was present. Such theatrics would be like throwing glances at a blind man.

The half-raised eyelids snapped back. His head drooped. His shoulders hunched. He dared not act out again…

Jia Zheng said: "Mother, I have always admired Lin Tan Yatou's appearance and character—just as outstanding as my sister was."

"Lady Wang mentioned wanting to arrange a match between them. I naturally agreed. But the Lin family of Su Zhou is a true scholarly-official clan; her father is a nationally renowned scholar."

"I always felt Jia Baoyu was unworthy. I planned to wait until her father finished overseeing the salt administration in the Two Huai regions, then write to him to discuss it—see if Jia Baoyu has such fortune."

Jia Zheng glanced at Lady Wang and continued: "But I never expected you to rush ahead and speak of it to Mother first. The rumor spread, and this wretch indulged in delusions."

"A noble son, lacking self-respect, lazy and shameless, unable to bear advice, now behaves like a vulgar ruffian."

"What happens in these two mansions is never hidden. His actions will spread—what face will he have left?"

"Besides, her father has spoken of talented scholars and warriors. Jia Baoyu has no such ability. I can no longer bring myself to mention marriage to her father. This matter is finished."

Jia Zheng's words, though heavy with defeat, were not spoken in rage. His tone was somber, sincere. Jia Mu disliked hearing them, but could find no fault—she could only listen as he rambled.

Though Madam Wang was displeased with Master Jia's scolding and belittling of their son, since even the Old Ancestress remained silent, she, as a daughter-in-law, dared not utter a single word of defiance, no matter how bitterly she resented it.

…

Hearing his father's words, Jia Baoyu had utterly given up on securing his future with Lin Lin Meimei; his heart turned to ash, and his entire body trembled uncontrollably, like a sieve shaken by wind.

Since childhood, he had been doted on by Jia Mu and Madam Wang, the precious Heavenly King of both the Eastern and Western Mansions of the Jia clan, always getting whatever he wanted—wind or rain—and if denied, he would smash his jade, always ending up satisfied.

But he never imagined that a single lie whispered in the inner quarters had ruined his reputation, earned him a brutal beating, and most crucially, caused his father to forbid him from wearing the jade again, locking it away in the highest shelf.

This stripped Jia Baoyu of his greatest weapon for tantrums, utterly crippling the divine art of jade-smashing he had practiced since childhood.

Since childhood, he had been infatuated with Lin Daiyu's peerless beauty and extraordinary grace, convinced that such an unparalleled girl in this world ought to spend her life beside him, to match his own self-admiring brilliance and innate worthiness…

Yet he never imagined Lin Daiyu valued scholarly achievement and the imperial examinations, utterly contrary to his own lazy nature; had Jia Baoyu been spurred to strive because of this, perhaps some opportunity might have arisen.

But he was accustomed since childhood to throwing tantrums and taking shortcuts—how could he endure hardship? He had planned to feign fainting and cause a great uproar, hoping to soften Lin Daiyu's heart and win her pity.

But he never expected that damned quack doctor to be so cruel—to thrust such a thick needle into his body, ruining his scheme entirely.

In the end, even his father grew angry with him and refused to champion his union with Lin Lin Meimei—what was he to do? What was he to do…

…

Without mentioning Jia Baoyu's dazed fantasies, Jia Zheng continued: "Old Ancestress, after witnessing today's events, it is clear that Lin Tan Yatou and Jia Baoyu are incompatible; no auspicious union can come of this.

Your son-in-law has spoken of literary and martial talents—he clearly already has his mind made up and will never consent to this match. I urge you, Old Ancestress, to abandon this idea entirely.

You have cherished my sister more than anyone in your life; Lin Tan Yatou is her only remaining blood. You wish for this girl to marry a worthy, talented man, so she may have a secure future.

Should your son-in-law truly come to take Lin Tan Yatou back south, even if you cannot bear to let her go, you must not dare to stop him—lest you damage the ties between the Jia and Lin families. Your sister, resting in the netherworld, would rest uneasily."

Hearing her son's words, Jia Mu felt inwardly resentful and unwilling to accept them, yet she could not deny that he spoke with considerable reason.

She said: "Such a fuss has arisen over nothing. Even if Lin Tan Yatou is out of the question, Jia Baoyu is already fifteen—he is of marriageable age. As his father, you must begin planning for him."

At this moment, Jia Cong, standing nearby, heard Jia Mu's words and realized she had already begun to retreat from her long-held hope for Jia Baoyu and Lin Daiyu.

Earlier, Jia Cong had expended great effort and cunning to break Seeing Yingchun's disastrous betrothal to Sun Sun Shaozu; now, with Jia Baoyu's situation resolving itself without his intervention, he was naturally delighted and felt a deep sense of ease…

…

At this point, Jia Mu's hopes for Lin Daiyu marrying Jia Baoyu had largely collapsed; thinking that her beloved granddaughter would one day return to Su Zhou and they would never meet again, she felt a piercing ache of grief.

Unconsciously, she noticed Jia Cong still in the room and recalled her son-in-law's words about literary and martial talents—this Cong-ge was an excellent candidate…

But upon closer thought, she found the idea unsuitable: Jia Cong now held dual peerages and enjoyed the favor of two supreme figures in the palace; he would inevitably be subject to an imperial marriage arrangement.

His hereditary peerage, granted without reduction, would surely be claimed by an imperial match; the Lady Rongguo hereditary title, however, must be carefully planned for.

The Jia clan had lost its dukedom and its original foundation in Ningguo; to preserve the family's wealth and status long-term, strategic marriage alliances were the most prudent course.

Even if she set aside her reservations and offered her beloved granddaughter to him…

The Lin family's ancestral roots lay far away in the south, beyond the Jia clan's reach, making it impossible to gain any substantial advantage for the family from such a union.

But if she followed her original plan—betrothing her niece Shi Shi Xiangyun to Jia Cong as a secondary wife, so that Shi Xiangyun's offspring would inherit the Lady Rongguo hereditary title—

She could gain far greater advantages for the family…

The Shi family, Marquis of Lady Bao Ling, and the Lady Rongguo Jia family shared their roots in the imperial capital; their alliance would bring immense power, influence, and prestige far surpassing that of the Lin family. Moreover, the Shi family was Jia Mu's true natal clan…

Though Jia Mu cherished her granddaughter Lin Lin Daiyu more than Shi Shi Xiangyun in her heart…

As the Lady of the Jia clan, when considering the continuation of the family's wealth and power, she would unhesitatingly choose Shi Shi Xiangyun.

Once Jia Mu had fully weighed these calculations, though she grieved deeply at the thought of Lin Daiyu returning south, she could see no better path…

…

Jia Mu's thoughts churned, and at last she made her decision; seeing Jia Baoyu beside her, lost in despair, she felt another pang of sorrow.

Hearing Jia Mu's words about arranging Jia Baoyu's marriage, Jia Zheng paused, then smiled bitterly: "Old Ancestress's words are indeed reasonable. But Jia Baoyu's reckless talk within the inner quarters has already ruined his reputation.

Finding him a match among noble or official families in the capital is now impossible. In my view, it would be wiser to act practically.

Jia Baoyu is no talent for scholarly pursuits; he cannot achieve merit in the world like Cong-ge. It would be better for him to remain low-key, avoiding unnecessary risks in the future.

Find him a wife from a modest but respectable family—not a grand surname or wealthy clan—but one whose character is upright, kind, and well-bred. That would be far more stable.

Such girls are more numerous in the capital; choosing him a solid match, so long as he can settle down, manage a household, and live a quiet life, is enough."

…

Jia Baoyu, consumed by grief over the end of his union with Lin Daiyu, wished he could die at once, lost in a flood of melancholy and self-pity.

Yet he heard the Old Ancestress and Madam Wang speaking eagerly about finding him a bride across the entire capital—as if they were auctioning off slaves. Such vulgar, base matters were descending upon him.

Arranged marriages, blind unions, silent betrothals—these were the very things he despised most; now he was doomed to endure them, to sink into filth, with no tears left to shed.

Xi Ren, She Nan Yue, and the other maids watched Jia Baoyu's appearance—his face twisted in fury and madness, his eyes vacant and glazed—as if he were about to have another fit, and all felt a lingering dread.

She Nan Yue even wondered whether the physician Zhang had left the mansion yet—should she send someone to recall him, in case the Second Young Master had another episode and needed another needle?

…

Hearing this, Jia Mu and Madam Wang felt a deep sorrow; in their hearts, Jia Baoyu was still the Heavenly King, the Phoenix Prince.

The legitimate son of the Lady Rongguo Mansion, reduced to marrying a girl from an ordinary family—how could they accept it?

Yet they knew Jia Zheng spoke truthfully; Jia Baoyu was in this state now.

Madam Wang cast a sidelong glance at Jia Cong beside her, her hatred deepening—if not for this little monster's scheming with Xue Baochai, this would have been Jia Baoyu's perfect match.

Now she must expend even more effort to find a worthy bride for my Jia Baoyu… (End of Chapter)