Chapter 866: The Tender Heart Revealed

Rongguo Prefecture, Rongqing Hall.

Yuanyang saw Wang Xifeng enter the hall, took a set of imperial kiln white-glazed covered bowl, poured steaming hot Laojunmei tea, and presented it on a tray to Wang Xifeng.

She smiled: “Second Mistress, this is newly brewed Laojunmei—everyone’s had some; you should try a cup.”

Wang Xifeng laughed as she took it and drank, praising it repeatedly as excellent tea.

Lady Wang watched, displeased: now everyone shifted with the wind, even Yuanyang had grown increasingly disrespectful.

Just now, the tea she served for herself and Baoyu was brought over by a young maid, yet Xifeng, a junior, received it personally from her hands.

Though the second branch moved to the eastern courtyard, the Master is still the Old Lady’s own son and raised Cong-ge.

Everyone has turned arrogant overnight; the Western Mansion is falling apart, and the Old Lady is growing senile, refusing to rein in Xifeng’s reckless behavior…

…

Jia Mu, hearing Wang Xifeng’s words, laughed: “So there’s more to it? But Cong-ge being summoned to court is nothing unusual.”

We’re just waiting for news—let them wait here too; the Lantern Festival is coming soon.

I was just about to ask Second Girl: how is the Eastern Mansion preparing? The fifteenth of the first month is a major occasion; the family should truly enjoy themselves.”

Baoyu, hearing Jia Cong had been summoned to court and that the Old Lady spoke of it as routine, felt deeply unsettled.

He felt everyone in this household had sunk into decay, speaking only of corrupt officials and imperial servitude—all tainted by Jia Cong alone.

When he heard Jia Mu say they’d celebrate the Lantern Festival, his gloom lifted slightly; at least these people were finally speaking sense…

Wang Xifeng smiled: “Whatever the Old Lady thinks of, I thought of days ago.”

“The banquet, lanterns, fireworks, opera troupe, and female storytellers—I’ve already arranged them all. The Old Lady just needs to sit back and enjoy.”

Jia Mu, delighted, said: “Yuanyang, go to the Eastern Mansion and tell Second Girl, Lin Yatou, and the others to come over.”

“They’re just waiting at home for news—here is just as good. When Cong-ge returns, invite him over too.”

“I’d like to hear what’s new—why was he urgently summoned to court, and what new post has he been given?”

…

Yuanyang, having received Jia Mu’s orders, went to the Eastern Mansion to deliver the message. Baoyu, hearing his sisters were coming, felt joy rise—he instantly forgot his earlier bitterness.

Only half a cup of tea passed before Yuanyang returned with Yingchun, Daiyu, Tanchun, Baochai, and Xichun.

Jia Mu hurriedly urged the granddaughters to sit; Baoyu beamed with delight—but most of the sisters ignored him.

Xiangyun used to chat with Baoyu, but since he’d rebuked her last time, she still held a grudge; now she merely rolled her eyes at him.

Jia Mu noticed, of course, but such childish squabbles meant nothing to her.

She smiled at Yingchun: “Second Girl, the Lantern Festival is near—Xifeng has already arranged the banquet and opera troupe in the Western Mansion.”

“Now you manage the Eastern Mansion—have you prepared everything for the New Year’s celebration? Festivals must be lively and joyful to bring good fortune.”

Since Jia Cong had been suddenly summoned to court, he’d mentioned a few words to Tanchun before leaving; the sisters all guessed his summons related to military command.

Yingchun was deeply anxious about this—though Jia Cong had not led troops for the first time, last time in Liaodong he had crushed the Jurchens and returned unharmed.

But war is perilous—no victory is guaranteed—and now, in her dread, how could she care about festivities?

…

Yingchun said: “Grandmother, the Eastern Mansion has prepared lanterns and banquets for the Lantern Festival, but no opera troupe yet.”

“We hired one before New Year’s Eve; the sisters watched for several days. Then, suddenly, war broke out in the north—the Mongols breached the pass.”

“The court grew tense. Cong-di said the state is at war; military families should not be staging operas—it would look improper to outsiders.”

“So we dismissed the troupe. Now that Cong-di was summoned abruptly to court, I suspect it’s tied to his deployment.”

“If so, we should not hire an opera troupe for the Lantern Festival—keep things quiet and clean; it’s a good omen for Cong-di.”

…

Jia Mu, hearing this, paused, startled—Yingchun’s words made sense, but she always favored merriment; a quiet Lantern Festival felt dull.

Baoyu, hearing Yingchun speak only of Jia Cong, caring for him in every detail, felt a surge of bitter resentment—why had no sister ever shown him such devotion?

Though Yingchun was Jia Cong’s own sister, and her affection for him was natural, Baoyu still felt stung and unjustly slighted.

He saw Jia Mu’s expression darken slightly at Yingchun’s words—he brightened inwardly: the Old Lady, too, was uncomfortable.

Baoyu knew Jia Mu’s nature well—she shared his temperament: both disliked restraint, despised talk of corrupt officials, and loved opera and refined pleasures.

Baoyu felt a sudden confidence: Yingchun was still too young, these past two years corrupted by Jia Cong—it’s no wonder she thinks this way.

Yingchun may be clever, but she’s too partial; she lacks the Old Lady’s wisdom and poise.

…

Fueled by this strange confidence, Baoyu felt the urge to show off—now that all the sisters were gathered, he must make them see his superior insight.

He smiled: “Second Sister speaks sense, but she’s too rigid. Warfare and slaughter are for soldiers and generals.”

“They’re bored, craving glory, rushing to earn merit, eager to shine before others—none of it concerns us.”

“Their karma is their own; they shouldn’t dictate others’ pleasures. Each person should mind their own affairs—keep ourselves pure and clean.”

“If they want to go to war, let them go—why deny others joy? That’s absurd, tyrannical, utterly lacking in peace and elegance.”

“So our family, close kin, shut our doors and enjoy opera and song—it harms no one. As long as we’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

…

After speaking, Baoyu felt smug, convinced his insight was truly transcendent.

Since moving back to the Eastern Courtyard, his father Jia Zheng had tormented him constantly—summoning him for lectures, testing his studies, posing questions.

Worse, Jia Huan, that corrupt official-worshipper, had become obsessed with poetry and the imperial exams, memorizing every stale Confucian text, flaunting it before the Master.

This made the Master scold Baoyu for not studying hard—Baoyu felt life unbearable, forced to retreat to his room and weep helplessly.

Now, without the Old Lady’s protection in the Eastern Courtyard, he could only endure his misery.

In his inner torment, besides indulging in romantic novels, he’d taken to reading the Nan Hua Jing, Laozi, and Zhuangzi to pass the time.

He’d gained vague, half-understood insights that pleased him deeply—he believed himself born with innate wisdom, having grasped profound truths, and grew self-satisfied.

Now, resenting Yingchun’s favoritism toward Jia Cong, he seized the chance to show off, twisting meaning and forcing his views.

…

After speaking, Baoyu was intoxicated by his own detached, unworldly spirit—certain he’d risen above dust and noise.

Jia Mu and Lady Wang, hearing Baoyu’s circular nonsense, grew confused and alarmed—no one had provoked him, so why was he suddenly speaking madness?

But Yingchun and the others, well-read and cultured, instantly recognized his pretentiousness and felt deep resentment.

Yingchun, usually gentle, now frowned slightly—but her nature kept her from rebuking him outright, especially before the Old Lady.

Daiyu couldn’t help a sharp huff, deeply displeased; she turned her head slightly, refusing to engage him, lest he drag her into his nonsense.

Tanchun, hearing Baoyu’s words, frowned, her face turning pale with anger.

This second brother always twisted meanings, picked up scraps of book learning, and spun absurd theories.

He could ramble all he wanted—but why use these foolish words to mock Third Brother? Did he think this would win the sisters’ favor?

He needn’t love books, but he should at least be sensible, or he’d be looked down upon—yet he remained self-deluded, speaking so foolishly.

His constant behavior would only drive the sisters further away.

How could he not understand? Third Brother’s virtues are beyond his reach—no amount of twisted words could diminish them.

Tanchun had once, out of blood ties, held a sliver of loyalty toward Baoyu, hoping he’d reconcile with the family.

But seeing his unchanging ways, his deep corruption, beyond redemption, she grew ever more disappointed in this elder brother…

…

Baochai, well-read in Buddhist and Daoist texts, understood Baoyu’s meaning and felt profound disgust.

Baoyu was a military scion; the Rong family’s tradition was to serve the state, defend the land, protect the people—generation after generation.

Cong-di is a Hanlin Academician, a current military noble, favored by the Emperor—his departure to war is a noble act.

Baoyu, having read a few superficial Daoist and Chan phrases, twists them to mock state affairs, ignorant of heaven’s height and earth’s depth—truly revolting!

Xichun, still young, with little reading or experience, could not grasp the meaning behind Baoyu’s words.