Chapter 353: Lin sister, this pouch—just for me?

The subtle brilliance of this poem lies not only in its "praise of the saint" itself, but also in how it presents a grand political theme through such a natural, beautiful pastoral tableau.

Among the women of the Jia Mansion, only she calmly saw through the political undertone beneath the royal visit's "magnanimous imperial grace".

Thus her poem could strike Yuan Chun's innermost yearning vision; essentially it was Daiyu's precise "political statement", a deep understanding and deft use of the power discourse system.

Moreover, she could have used this chance to "show off her extraordinary talent", outshining all the ladies.

But she ultimately chose to suppress her edge, composing the poem for Baoyu, placing the Jia Mansion's face and Baoyu's future above personal honor and disgrace.

She can be said to know when to advance or retreat, to consider the big picture, to have character, displaying extreme rationality and measured self‑restraint.

And these are why Jia Jing chose to have Daiyu read "Lu Xuan Gong's Memorials", to cultivate her political observation ability.

When Daiyu heard Jia Jing's praise again, Yu Rong was startled, the lacquered bright eyes rippling, and she said softly:

"Third Brother, you flatter me! I'm only half‑knowledgeable about these official career discussions."

"As for insight and talent, Third sister and… Baichai truly are women who do not yield to the beards of men!"

"Especially Baichai, who now reads extensively at home every day, her insight becoming remarkable; Third Brother, when you have time you could test her as well!"

In the end she couldn't hold back and said sourly:

Jia Jing's sword‑like brows twitched slightly, his cool gaze falling on Daiyu's face; her occasional petulance sparked a hint of amusement, and in a clear voice he said:

"Xue Meimei is indeed erudite and broad‑minded, steady and harmonious, adept in human affairs, and perceptive of subtle signs."

"But Lin Meimei's innate spirit, natural authenticity, unflattering and unvulgar, with profound insight, is by no means weaker than anyone's!"

In Jia Jing's mind, Baichai is pragmatic and transparent, sensible and capable, thorough and meticulous, more cultivated as a wise domestic aide with steward‑like talent…

Daiyu's delicate frame trembled, she pinched the handkerchief in her sleeve, praising the little Baichai, but what did she mean by praising her?

And what does "not weaker than anyone" mean?

Third Brother's words are always like this, half‑present, half‑absent…

Jia Jing, however, showed no further interest in discussing the topic, stood up, glanced at the sky and said:

"I have many matters to attend this afternoon, so I won't stay longer!"

"Sister, feel free to come to Dong Fu whenever you have time, and don't forget to fetch the lion cat and wozi."

Saying that, he took the letter and prepared to leave.

Daiyu gave a soft "hm", her expression showing a hint of reluctance.

It was hard to finally come into my room, a beautiful moment just for the two of us, but time passed too quickly; before we could speak for a while, it was time to go!

Daiyu pressed her pink lips together, thought for a moment, then softly said:

"Third Brother, wait! In my idle time at home I embroidered several pouches, giving one each to the matriarch and Xiao Jiaoer."

"I also embroidered one for Third Brother; the stitching is coarse and clumsy, but if you don't mind, you may wear it at your waist to hold small items."

She said, paused, then added an explanation:

"I have taken so much money from Third Brother, and you also spent favors to summon a famous doctor for treatment, many worries; I should return some of that thoughtfulness!"

Daiyu's ears flushed slightly, the handkerchief in her hand twisted repeatedly, her star‑like eyes drooping a bit, her gaze hesitant to look straight at the young man before her.

Even though she found many excuses, handing over such an intimate pouch in person still made her a little shy!

Jia Jing turned around pensively and gave Daiyu a glance.

She stood there, back straight, eyelids lowered, eyelashes trembling slightly, like a butterfly fluttering its wings twice.

He smiled lightly, thought for a moment, and in a warm voice said:

"Sister, with a gentle and refined heart, I suppose…"

His voice was low, carrying a hint of warmth he himself hadn't noticed, "Where is it?"

Daiyu saw Jia Jing's expression unchanged, her face softened a bit, turned, and said to the nearby Zi Juan:

"Quickly bring the embroidered pouch for Third Brother!"

Zi Juan's smile on her face could no longer be hidden, and she sweetly replied.

She hurried to the cabinet in the room, opened a drawer, and took out something.

It was a moon‑white silk satin pouch, embroidered with a sprig of green bamboo; the bamboo stalk thin, the leaves sparse, no superfluous patterns, clean as a watercolor with ample blank space.

The pouch's edges were impeccably neat, the tassel light‑emerald, woven in a concentric knot.

Zi Juan cupped it and delivered it to Daiyu's hand; this time she did not stay in the room, but slipped out quietly.

Daiyu, with her brows and eyes lowered, handed the pouch to Jia Jing; as their fingertips met, ripples rose in her heart's lake.

"Third Brother, can you still find it pleasing?"

Jia Jing took the pouch, examined it: moon‑white silk satin, green bamboo embroidery, stitches fine and even, each knot solid and crisp.

He turned the pouch over, glanced at the back, confirming there were no characters like "hengzhi", only an extremely fine edge, invisible.

Jia Jing felt a slight astonishment; in this era, gifting a pouch between men and women carries a special meaning.

Although not often a token of love, a hand‑made feminine craft does carry a vague affection.

Just as in the original work, Daiyu gave Baoyu a pouch, itself an implicit token of affection.

In Zhi Yan Zhai's commentary, this was summed up as "tying two meanings into a cut pouch".

However, just now Daiyu also said that Jia Mu and Xiao Jiaoer have one, and that it was a gesture of thanks,

so the meaning behind giving the pouch becomes somewhat ambiguous and vague!

Completely different from Baichai's direct declaration of feeling last night…

However,

perhaps this is the difference between Baichai's and Daiyu's temperaments.

Baichai could directly express her feelings last night not because of a flamboyant nature, but as a proactive choice after rational deliberation.

Her background meant she had no room for hesitant subtlety, and her actions were backed by Aunt Xue's support, effectively bearing her parents' endorsement.

Meanwhile, Daiyu's sensitive, dependent, and solitary nature makes it difficult for her to express herself directly even if she intends to.

At most one can only probe and hint; otherwise, not only fearing rejection, but also fearing being looked down upon.

Having realized this, Jia Jing chuckled and joked:

"This sachet—among the sisters and brothers in the mansion, no one else has it; did Daiyu give it to me alone?"

Jia Mu and Xiao Jiaoer, one old and one young, naturally don't count.

Jia Jing's remark, on one hand, was to furtively further confirm Daiyu's feelings; on the other hand, it was to use Daiyu's tone to ease her somewhat flustered and nervous emotions.

Daiyu, hearing these words, her delicate body trembled slightly, her lovely visage paused, she lifted her gaze to Jia Jing, and spoke haltingly:

"Perhaps… not!"

If everyone in the mansion had one, then it would truly be merely a thank‑you gift, with no subtle hint at all!

Moreover, are sachets that easy to make? Just this one took her several days!

Jia Jing roughly understood in his heart, said nothing more, and left only this:

"Sister, this sachet is made very well, it suits my heart's desire! Thank you for your effort!"

He immediately turned, strode out of the room, and headed toward Dong Fu.

Daiyu stood in the room, watching Jia Jing's retreating fade, hearing the courtyard gate open and close, only then did she withdraw her unsettled gaze.

She lowered her head, gazing at her empty palm; her fingers curled slightly, the faint coolness from where she had touched him still lingered on her fingertips, refusing to fade.

"Suits my heart's desire?" What does that mean?

After a long while, she secretly sighed in her heart, her expression tinged with a sense of loss.