Chapter 913: Jade of the South, a Heart of Pity

The Earl’s Mansion, inner garden.

On the winding corridor, bright lanterns with translucent panels glowed with a soft golden radiance, illuminating the path ahead; shadows of flowers and trees scattered across the garden, filling the spring night with quiet, chilly serenity.

A graceful figure glided along the corridor, her robes fluttering, her dark hair adorned with shining hairpins that emitted a faint fragrance; the sisters had returned from the West Mansion and, since it was still early, strolled idly through the garden chatting.

Daiyu’s words struck Yingchun, Xiangyun, and the others as reasonable—on this earth, family rank and status were rigidly stratified; a merchant’s daughter marrying into a noble household naturally faced a vast disparity in lineage.

Miss Xia had some schemes and tricks, but in matters of human relations, these hardly amounted to grave sins; put in her place, one might even find her motives understandable.

Even though Daiyu saw through the truth clearly, even if Miss Xia’s conduct displeased her, she spoke lightly of it and did not truly care.

But Tan Chun, upon hearing Daiyu’s words, felt a complex mix of emotions—Lady Lin was truly brilliant; though she had barely interacted with Miss Xia, she had seen through her schemes at a glance.

Yet Lady Lin did not dwell on it, for no matter how cunning Miss Xia was, she had little to do with the sisters; even if she entered the family, she would reside in the Eastern Courtyard.

Just like your sister-in-law—when she lived in the West Mansion, you saw her daily, but after moving to the West Mansion, you met only once every ten days or so; the same would hold true once Miss Xia came in.

…

Lady Lin spoke as if she didn’t care, because she had met Miss Xia only a few times, unlike you, who had spent time with her and glimpsed her true nature and hidden motives.

Yet even so, Lady Lin saw at once that Miss Xia did not care for Baoyu—she cared only for the Jia family’s status and her own position within it.

Miss Xia knew Baoyu disliked the Confucian classics, yet she repeatedly presented him with the Four Books and Five Classics in public, merely to display herself, showing not the slightest regard for Baoyu’s feelings.

If she didn’t care for Baoyu, why would the Xia family agree to this match? If she looked down on Baoyu, why did she observe every holiday ritual with such meticulous care, pleasing even the Old Lady?

Not only did she win the Old Lady’s favor, but your sister-in-law, raised in a scholarly official family, also deemed her exemplary in feminine virtue; when this matter reaches your father’s ears, he too will think highly of her.

Even Second Sister praised Miss Xia today in the hall—this girl hasn’t even entered the family yet, yet everyone, young and old, speaks well of her; truly, she has skill.

Only Lady Lin, wise and perceptive, watched coldly from the sidelines, fully aware—she said not a word in Rongqing Hall, yet saw through Miss Xia’s heart at a glance.

…

A maiden’s marriage is a lifelong matter; every woman takes it seriously. Yet if she dislikes Baoyu yet still insists on marrying into the Jia family, using poetry and books as an excuse—

Tan Chun suddenly recalled a scene: on several occasions when Miss Xia visited, whenever Third Brother happened to be present, her gaze toward him burned with heat and obsession.

She herself was deeply entangled in love, as if consumed by a fatal illness, burdened by shame and guilt she could not escape—she understood the hidden meaning behind such a maiden’s gaze.

Could she truly treat marriage as a child’s game? Which woman in the world would act so madly? Tan Chun trembled inside, a chill crept up her spine—

Daiyu noticed Tan Chun lost in thought, her fair face pale, and said: “Third Sister, your complexion looks unwell—did the night wind chill you? Are you unwell?”

Tan Chun snapped back to herself, forcibly banishing the strange thoughts from her mind—she must be going mad; no woman in the world would sink so far into folly.

She smiled: “Probably just caught a draft—I’ll rest when I return. It’s fully dark now; let’s each go our separate ways and talk again tomorrow.”

…

Rongguo Mansion, Eastern Courtyard.

In the main hall, lamps burned brightly; on the table lay the Xia family’s reply gifts, along with several bolts of red satin returned.

Lady Wang was arranging the bolts of red fabric, Jia Zheng flipped through a copy of the Doctrine of the Mean, while Baoyu stood humbly in the hall, head bowed, hands clasped, demeanor submissive.

On the surface, Baoyu was calm, but inside he seethed with anxiety and sorrow—he had endured humiliation at the Imperial Academy all day, listening to those old scholars drone on with their stale, stinking Confucianisms.

He had finally returned home at sunset, hoping to visit the West Mansion before dark, hearing that since Jia Cong’s departure, the sisters had been freed from restraint and were dining together in Rongqing Hall.

Such a perfect opportunity filled Baoyu with longing, yet his father was either at home or returned earlier than him, enforcing strict discipline—Baoyu dared not defy him.

Now he even envied Jia Huan—if the Imperial Academy was so unbearable, why not live there like Jia Huan? Though he couldn’t see the sisters, at least he had more freedom.

But the thought passed in an instant—he would never truly choose to live in the Academy, for the student quarters housed four men per room, sleeping on shared bunk beds; how could Baoyu endure that?

To share a bed with smelly men, breathing their coarse, bearded stench all night—better to be killed outright. Between two evils, choose the lesser—he’d rather return home and be tormented by his father.

Lady Wang smiled: “It seems Miss Xia chose the bamboo-leaf patterned bolt—unexpected for one so young, yet her tastes are indeed dignified, her clothing preferences refreshingly refined.”

…

Baoyu loved red above all; those bolts of brilliant crimson bridal silk, glowing vividly under the lamplight, looked like clusters of flaming clouds—his heart stirred with delight.

He saw one bolt with a large red lotus pattern—the very design he adored—and yet, instead of pleasure, he frowned, feeling a sudden distaste.

He thought: Miss Xia’s taste is ultimately poor—why didn’t she choose the most beautiful lotus pattern? Why the dull, sour bamboo-leaf design? She lacks true elegance.

Doesn't she know that lustful scholars most love to pose as noble bamboos, staining these graceful green stalks with vulgar, filthy breath? That's what he hated most.

Jia Cong loved wearing pale moon-white fabric with silver bamboo patterns, to proclaim himself a noble bamboo—yet he was a man of fine looks, and yet chose to dress in dull, lifeless white, utterly meaningless.

…

Baoyu sighed inwardly, when suddenly Jia Zheng laughed: “Miss Xia’s annotations are insightful—only one deeply devoted to the classics could produce such work.

For a young lady confined to the inner chambers to possess such spirit is truly rare; her talent rivals that of our own daughters, perhaps even surpasses them—this is exceedingly precious.”

Lady Wang found this slightly odd, but since the girl was not yet married, her son’s father praising her was a good sign—it meant she had chosen a worthy match.

Jia Zheng sighed: “Now the Jia family is a Hanlin household. Originally, I thought selecting a daughter of a royal merchant for Baoyu was mismatched in status—but now I see I was mistaken.

As the saying goes, fine birds emerge from deep mountains, and outstanding talents arise from humble origins. Though the phrase isn’t perfect, its meaning holds truth—clearly, status-based prejudice isn’t always right.

Miss Xia not only possesses literary grace, but also sends her annotated reading notes to Baoyu to aid his studies—this is the virtue of a wife who encourages her husband’s learning, the ancient way—rare indeed!”

…

Hearing Jia Zheng’s words, Baoyu felt the world spin—he pictured Miss Xia’s lovely face, her graceful figure, once so alluring to him.

Now he realized she too was a seeker of profit and fame—in an instant, beauty turned to skeleton; how could this be? It couldn’t be true—I refuse to believe it…

Jia Zheng said sternly: “Baoyu, Miss Xia’s talent and virtue make her your perfect match. Treat her well, heed her advice—if you slight her, I will not forgive you!”

Baoyu heard this and nearly wept—though he nodded in agreement, his heart felt as if pierced by knives; the world was cruel, utterly unbearable—how could a jade-like maiden from the inner chambers be like this?

Yet his nature resembled Jia Mu’s—when faced with distress, he always found an excuse to distract himself, to drift through hardship, to muddle through.

Now he recalled what Xi Ren had said when Miss Xia first sent the books: the Jia family had risen since Jia Cong’s success, becoming a Hanlin household, its scholarly reputation spreading far and wide.

Miss Xia came from a merchant family—her status was already elevated; as a new bride, sending books was merely to conform to family customs, to please her in-laws—a temporary gesture.

Baoyu, trembling in fear, suddenly found refuge in Xi Ren’s words—he instantly calmed, and even felt pity for Miss Xia…

…………

Jia Zheng noticed Baoyu’s face—half joy, half sorrow, half dazed, half foolish—unable to fathom what nonsense he was indulging in, he frowned slightly.

But Jia Zheng’s spirit had grown weary; perhaps Baoyu had disappointed him too much. Though he did not loosen discipline, he no longer had the energy to scold or demand—he handed over the two books and waved him away.

Baoyu felt as if released from prison—he took the books and left the hall, but had no interest in reading the annotations; after hearing a full day of corrupt scholars’ rhetoric at the Academy, why further torment himself?

Lady Wang, watching Baoyu depart, asked: “Master, any news on the Feng Yuan case in Jin Ling? What is Jia Yucun’s current situation? Will it implicate you?”

Jia Zheng sighed: “Today I received a letter from my cousin Shi Nai—the Ministry of Personnel in the capital has sent officials to Jin Ling to suspend Jia Yucun and investigate him; the Embroidered Uniform Guard has arrested him with official writs.

Jia Yucun’s wife has been begging everywhere, even coming to my cousin’s mansion—but the Feng Yuan case was closed on the pretext that Jia Yucun issued a document certifying Pan Er’s death.”