During this time, I spent every day auditing accounts with Muyu and receiving the cunning, difficult shopkeepers under Master Wei’s command. Because she had left the capital in such a hurry, I even had to brave meetings with the heads of various merchant guilds alone. Fortunately, Ling Chunan lived up to her reputation of being thick as thieves with the Imperial Envoy for years; she acted as a go-between and introduced me, saving me a great deal of trouble.
I remained occupied with these social and business obligations until the end of the eleventh month, when the stewards of provincial estates began swarming into the capital to present tributes and pay rents. Muyu and I both wished we could split ourselves into three people. Even Luo Cheng was dragged in to act as a "rent-collecting demon." His murderous, cold face was perfectly suited for suppressing the various monsters and demons that crawled out of the woodwork, though he had never learned arithmetic, so I didn't even dare let him count the coins... Being a landlady is no easy task! I wonder how Master Wei managed the year-end rush in previous years?
To make matters even more chaotic, social favors had to be returned one by one. At the very least, I had to host a return banquet for Duan Qimo and Wen Shu. I also had to start procuring New Year’s gifts and prepare a large number of rewards for business associates. To share Master Wei’s burdens, I had proactively asked for her extensive gift list; now, I truly regretted taking on such a mess... Being a virtuous wife isn't easy either! Fortunately, Muyu was more proficient in this area than I was. As the First Lady, she had managed the affairs of all four branches of a household, so this was not far removed from her previous experience. I personally handled the most important matters and left the rest to her judgment.
Finally, once the most urgent tasks were settled, I caught my breath. Calculating that it had been ten days since our excursion to Luming Garden, I decided to host a banquet in three days for Duan Qimo and the other ladies who had been present, as well as Wen Wan, whom I had "newly met" at Wen Shu’s home. I welcomed them to bring their close friends, provided they didn't mind my status as a foreign member of the demon race.
On the day of the banquet, the first to arrive were actually Wen Xiang and Hua Moli. The two of them appeared to be walking arm-in-arm with extreme intimacy, but in reality, they were already competing with each other from the moment they tried to step through my door. I could hardly stifle my laughter; it was Muyu, accustomed to grand occasions, who stepped forward to welcome them with proper decorum. Wen Xiang stared at her, her eyes wide. "Muyu, why are you here? I’ve asked to see you several times back home, but you were nowhere to be found..." Unaware of the twists and turns of the situation, she naturally found it bizarre that Wei Qingming, having severed ties with Wen Qi, would buy the maid who once served her to be a concubine.
Even Muyu blushed slightly, saying shyly, "Please come inside, Madam, Miss. Be careful not to catch a chill in the wind."
At that moment, Luo Cheng had just finished tending to the Hua family’s horses with their groom. He entered through the side door to deliver a letter he had picked up from a shop on his way back. Seeing the guests, he silently retreated to avoid them.
Sister-in-law Huang and little sister Wuhua walked the long path from the entrance to the flower hall, clicking their tongues in praise of the landscaping. However, seeing not a single servant passing by, they couldn't help but feel indignant on my behalf. "It’s one thing for her to be so busy she’s never home, but how can she leave such a large garden so empty!" I laughed and said, "Actually, I can't stand having too many people waiting on me. It’s noisy enough outside; when I come home, I only want peace and quiet. It’s not that she’s neglecting me." They still shook their heads vigorously, clearly intending to give Wei the Third a piece of their minds the next time they saw her.
Next to arrive was Duan Qimo, who came galloping in on horseback despite the deep winter, leaving her two servants far behind. She leaped down and strode through the door.
I winked at her playfully, silently asking why she wasn't with *that* person. Duan Qimo curled her lip slightly, pulled a sapphire earring from her robe, and handed it to me, whispering, "She dropped this in the garden that day. Would Madam Su return it for me?"
"Oh? This has nothing to do with those of us who were having a snowball fight." I pinched the earring and dangled it before her eyes with a smile. "When she appeared, her left earlobe was already bare. Master Duan is quite bold to hand such leverage over to an outsider like me!"
"Good eyes," Duan Qimo said calmly. "But how could Madam Su be an outsider?"
I snorted with a laugh. "You two must have met today. Did you leave anything else behind this time? Red, blue, pink, or green—just give them all to me at once to save me the trouble of running errands next time we meet."
Even the stoic Master Duan couldn't help herself; she let out a chuckle and shook her head with a sigh. "I truly cannot win against Zhenzhen’s sharp tongue. This Duan will just have to add some humble gifts to beg for Madam Su’s mercy." As she spoke, she placed a pair of jade pendants atop the gift box she had already prepared. Clearly, they were intended for both me and Wei Qingming to avoid suspicion.
Wen Wan and Wen Gan arrived together with He Rao, the wife of Wen Siming. Since our meeting at Pan Tower, this elder sister seemed to have taken a great liking to me; as soon as she saw me, she couldn't wait to show me the fashionable fabric she was wearing. Accompanying them was a new face, a friend of Wen Gan named Yin Shuhong. She was the daughter of the book merchant who sold the *Words of Warning* that Wen Gan had been promoting at Chunan’s night banquet. Although this Little Yin was a year younger than my actual age, she was eccentric and exceptionally bright. True to her family heritage, she was incredibly well-read. Like Wen Gan, she was full of curiosity about everything. Hearing that I had traveled far and wide and seen much of the world, she had happily joined the banquet.
As a meeting gift, Yin Shuhong had her servants haul in a crate of books—all the latest stories by popular authors that had just been printed and were not yet on the market. I saw that the very first one was a new work by my favorite author, "Thousand-Year Sorrow," and there were three whole volumes. I hugged the books and cried out in joy. Yin Shuhong was also thrilled; it was rare to find a kindred spirit. She grabbed my hand and started jumping up and down. The two of us chattered away, pouring our hearts out to each other. Yin Shuhong laughed, "I knew from hearing Xiao Gan talk that you were an interesting person, and indeed, your taste is superb. She likes the kind of books written by Thousand-Year Sorrow’s rival, Evening Cicada. If my family didn't print them, I would have torn them up to use as... long ago." She hummed and skipped the key word, but everyone understood her meaning, making me laugh so hard I stumbled, stepping right into the snow.
Wen Gan merely smiled at this. "Evening Cicada’s books may seem crude and bizarre, but they contain the fundamental Great Dao of life. They can be appreciated by the common folk and the elite alike. Thousand-Year Sorrow is too literary, too tender; it isn't the real world, just a vain dream of his."
Wen Shu arrived in a hurry. The servants behind her carried not only a small gift for me but also a mountain of New Year supplies. After Xiao Furen had decisively finished delegating the distribution, she tucked some items into the hands of everyone present and ordered the rest to be sent to my house. Everyone gathered around the items she had distributed, pointing in wonder and praising her for managing to snag things that others might not get even if they queued all night. For instance, there were the most sought-after glass lanterns made by the master craftsman Meng Junji, and the peachwood charms written by the most famous calligrapher, Shao Wenbing. Although Old Shao hung a banner on his door every year saying "This old man is not writing this year," friends and relatives still wore down his threshold seeking his work. Ever since some clever rascal snatched that seven-character banner and sold it, the Great Master Shao could only huff and puff; he had no choice but to write a fixed amount for distribution. If you were late, you simply missed out. I, however, had no need for his calligraphy. In my heart, no matter how many "Great Masters" there were, who could compare to the one in my home?
Wen Jiang arrived late. The others were currently in my greenhouse, excitedly admiring the flowers. Seeing her, they laughed and scolded, "The Red Fairy is late again! Don't let her take a single peony!" Wen Jiang’s beautiful face was filled with excitement at the sight of the room full of Yao Yellow, Wei Purple, and other famous varieties. She was particularly captivated by the "Silver Threads Crowning the Head," a variety said to have had only a single plant in the old Tang capital of Luoyang. She could hardly move. It was Duan Qimo who first spoke up to plead with me on her behalf, then proactively suggested to the group that she would drink a penalty toast during the meal to apologize for her. Only then did Duan personally cut a blossom and pin it into Wen Jiang’s hair.
As dusk approached, Muyu invited everyone to be seated. We walked hand-in-hand in a graceful procession to the backyard and entered the hall best suited for viewing the scenery. In the distance, we could see the rolling hills stretching south toward Luming Garden. The confluence of the Jin and Qing rivers was to the left of our field of vision, currently covered in shimmering white snow like a world of glass. Come springtime, with peaches and plums in full bloom, lush vegetation, birds chirping on the islands, and various flowers filling the meadows, it would surely be a magnificent sight. Nearby were the staggered rocks, pavilions, and terraces of the garden. Because the architecture was in the Song style, it truly felt like traveling back thousands of years—as if a skilled hand had carved out a small piece of the past and placed it in this world where time had long since moved on.
The guests admired the view for a while, offering their praise. He Rao asked with a smile, "The plaque I saw when I entered said 'Orange Garden,' but I remember visiting here with my father and brothers when I was young. It was called 'Tonglu' back then. I haven't seen any oranges or paulownia trees along the way today?"
I pointed diagonally ahead and explained, "Behind that wall is Chancellor Zhang’s villa. Originally, where the two gardens met, there was a forest of Dove Trees. Dove Trees have always been delicate and rarely survive in the north; for them to be so lush and magnificent was very rare. The owners of the two gardens were close friends, so they agreed to split the twenty-four Dove Trees between them. Thus, one was named 'Gonglu' and the other 'Tonglu'." As for the oranges of Orange Garden... naturally, it was because I knew Wei Qingming loved her mother, so I proactively suggested planting a new corner of orange trees in the garden. Honglu had just moved dozens of small saplings over; it would take a few years for them to grow.
Wen Gan smiled. "The characters on the plaque are identical to the ones on the flower stationery we received. They must have been written by Zhenzhen herself. They possess a more elegant and free-spirited air than those of Dong Boying’s so-called disciples." Yin Shuhong nodded vigorously. "Exactly. Like a deer running on a beautiful ridge, or a crane wandering on a fragrant shore. It would put the likes of Tan Puxin, Dong Boying’s top disciple, to shame."
The two intellectuals praised me so intensely that I, Zhenzhen, actually felt my face flush. Fortunately, Hua Moli widened her eyes and said in surprise, "The stationery was in cursive, and the plaque is in regular script. How are they identical!" Everyone burst into laughter. Wen Xiang, instead, patted the table to support her. "If you all say it’s good, then it’s good, but I can't tell either! Stop laughing at my Wuhua!"
Hua Moli wasn't angry at all. She leaned her face toward me with a grin and said, "Since you’re now 'Great Master Su,' how about helping me out, Sister Zhenzhen?"
I playfully waved my hand. "This lady is also not writing this year!"
Everyone laughed again. Hua Moli said urgently, "Stop shouting! I’m talking business! Next month I have to go to Xixi Tower. By rights, I should submit a piece of calligraphy, a painting, or embroidery, or else perform on the zither on-site. I never had the patience to learn those things, but I can't skip the banquet my family arranged. If I’m going to show up, I won't be outdone—I must submit the best calligraphy!"
Wen Xiang snorted. "Aha! So that means the three-foot masterpiece you submitted to Xixi Tower seven years ago was a forgery!"
"Sister-in-law, your words are strange indeed. I haven't seen you touch a needle or thread in six years; was that brilliant embroidery you submitted real then?"
The ladies laughed until they were wiping away tears and clutching their stomachs. I managed to keep a straight face and said, "A friend’s request must be honored. Don't worry, Sister Moli; I’ll have it sent to your residence first thing tomorrow morning."
The Xixi Tower gathering they spoke of was, to put it plainly, the year-end matchmaking banquet for eligible noble men and women in the capital. At that time, the host would book an entire building for three days of socializing and entertainment. Many women from slightly lower-ranking households would break their heads trying to get an invitation; that was a true opportunity to climb to the highest branches. Someone of Su Zhenzhen’s status was far from being able to reach it.
At this point, Duan Qimo, who had been busy whispering with Wen Jiang, smiled and said, "As it happens, I have a share in hosting this year’s banquet. Whatever Miss Hua wants to eat or play with, just give the word, and it will all be on me."
"Wonderful!" Hua Moli clapped and laughed. "Sister Jiang is going too; you should just ask her what she wants to play!"
***
