In the distance, people came down from the rockery toward Tao Yiran, saying something to her. Then the young lady who had just been playing the qin stopped in front of her for a moment before also walking over. They exchanged a few words, and then a maid in green stepped forward to speak. Even from afar, one could see the atmosphere was far from pleasant. In the end, Tao Yiran turned toward the rockery and began slowly ascending the steps.
Xin An’s lips curved faintly. She turned her head and instructed Nanfeng, “Go and see what’s going on.”
Nanfeng departed. Yan Wenhui, having also noticed, remarked, “She isn’t thinking of playing the qin, is she?”
Trying to steal the spotlight?
Lin Yao said, “If it comes to qin skill, she’s indeed outstanding. Many times at banquets her playing has been heard. But on an occasion like this, she probably won’t perform.”
After all, Tao Yiran was now a married woman.
But Lin Yao’s words had scarcely fallen before Tao Yiran had already taken her seat before the qin atop the rockery. She had every intention of playing. Even before a note sounded, many eyes had turned toward her.
Nanfeng returned. “Reporting to Young Madam: just now, the one playing the qin was the second young lady of the Earl of Changning’s household. After she finished, everyone praised her. Then the young lady of the Vice Minister of Revenue’s household, Miss Fang, asked Eldest Young Madam for her opinion. Eldest Young Madam said that the young lady’s playing relied too much on technique and was somewhat lacking in polish. So the second young lady of the Earl’s household invited Eldest Young Madam to play a tune herself, so that she might give some proper guidance.”
Qiu Wenyuan looked scornful. “And she actually went?”
Nanfeng curtseyed toward her. “Several young madams and young ladies behind Eldest Young Madam urged her on. Only then did she agree.”
Qiu Wenyuan gave a cold humph. “Once married, she should know her place, instead of competing with unmarried girls. It’s beneath her status—small-minded.”
Several gazes slid toward Xin An. Xin An smiled. “Since marrying, Eldest Sister-in-law has rarely left her courtyard. I suppose she’s been too stifled.”
Qiu Wenyuan asked, “She likes playing the qin so much—doesn’t she amuse herself at home?”
“There was one time, in the afternoon,” Xin An said, giving due credit to Tao Yiran’s skill. “It was a hot day, the cicadas were shrilling—her music soothed the irritation and even helped one drift to sleep.”
“It’s a pity it was only the once.”
Qiu Wenyuan laughed. “Just like me—hearing the qin makes me want to nap.”
The music began again. Even Xin An, who knew little of the qin, had to admit that it was far more pleasant than the playing of the Earl’s second young lady earlier. More and more people began drifting into Qianbi Garden. Xin An lowered her eyes to sip her tea. With some people, you didn’t need elaborate schemes—just a nudge, and they couldn’t help but bring about their own ruin.
The Earl’s second young lady had played to display her talent and attract potential suitors. By jumping in to criticise her and then outshine her, Tao Yiran had essentially made an enemy of the Earl’s household. The Countess of Changning was a formidable and fiercely protective woman—now that her cherished daughter had been embarrassed at the Water and Blossoms Banquet, she would certainly not let it pass.
Halfway through the piece, Qianbi Garden was crowded. Even the pavilion where Xin An and her friends sat was bustling, as those who knew them came to watch. These ladies knew how to talk—one after another, they praised Tao Yiran’s skill, noting how she hadn’t let marriage dull her artistry.
“After marriage, only she could still play so well.”
“After marriage, only she would still come and play in public. Everyone should take the chance—who knows if there will be another?”
“With such skill, it would be a pity if there were no next time. I’m sure our heir’s wife wouldn’t want to part with it.”
Xin An smiled faintly and said nothing. Tao Yiran’s actions were certainly improper, but to be the focus of so much ‘praise’ was rare enough—it only proved she’d never been shy of the limelight.
A short while later, the Second Prince’s Consort arrived. Those seated rose to greet her. As Qianbi Garden’s best pavilion, Xin An and the others all stood to give her a seat. From the platform, Tao Yiran looked up and saw the commotion; her heart gave a jolt, and at once her playing faltered. Mistakes followed mistake. The Second Prince’s Consort’s expression cooled. “Does the heir’s wife of the Marquisate of Wei Yuan bear some grudge against me? Playing perfectly well, and the moment I arrive, she errs?”
Many in the pavilion began to pile on, seeing the Consort’s displeasure. Noting her slight smile, they grew bolder, even dragging Tang Rong into it, remarking that although he was the very picture of a gentleman, he was still only a man, unable to resist soft jade and warm fragrance.
Tao Yiran was used to grand occasions. After her initial fluster, she adjusted enough to finish the piece—but her mood was gone, and her playing no longer shone. One might almost say it now “relied on technique.”
Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath. Regret flickered in her heart. She knew full well it was improper to play in such a setting after marriage, but she had not been able to resist the goading of others. Acting on impulse, it was too late now for remorse.
She descended the rockery with measured steps—only to be met, as expected, with mocking voices. The Earl’s second young lady, whom she had slighted, gave a cold laugh. “Do not be upset, Madam Tang. A stumble is nothing. After all, when one must spend every day scheming how to hold on to the husband one fought so hard to get, neglecting one’s qin practice is understandable.”
Several girls laughed. Miss Fang, from the Vice Minister of Revenue’s household, said with a smile, “Ning-jie, don’t tease Madam Tang so. Who doesn’t know that the heir of the Marquisate wed the young lady of the Xin family, and that Madam Tang was the one to receive such a husband as if a pie had fallen from the heavens? Of course she must guard him well.”
This sparked more laughter. Tao Yiran’s ears burned, her eyes brimmed with tears. She longed to be angry but could do nothing. That pitiful look might have won sympathy from men—but here, among women, no one was inclined to pity her.
Seeing her mocked, Xin An feigned a move to speak in her defence. The Second Prince’s Consort turned her head. “Second Young Madam, are you about to defend her?”
Xin An looked a little awkward. “Whatever else, she is my sister-in-law. I can’t help but feel sorry for her.”
“Sorry for her?”
The Second Prince’s Consort curled her lips in a sneer. “If you dare to act, you must be ready to be criticized. You know you’re…” She stopped short, swallowing the crude words, and instead said, “Knowing that such behaviour invites gossip, yet still coming out to court attention without regard for the occasion…With such behaviour, why should she have your pity?”
The Consort’s lips curved in a cold smile. “If one dares to act, one must be prepared to be spoken of.
“Rest assured, there are plenty willing to pity her.”
Strangely, Xin An understood the deeper meaning in her last words. Li Yuyan also advised, “Sit here and talk, enjoy the view. Let them say their piece—it will pass. If you step in, the matter will only be drawn out, perhaps even made worse. Why bother?”
The Second Prince’s Consort glanced at Li Yuyan and said nothing more.
So Xin An sat back with an easy mind. The sun was high, the heat heavy; no one cared to move. They stayed in the pavilion talking while servants from the Duke’s household brought in great bronze basins filled with ice to set by the railings. Waves of cool air drifted through, adding a touch of comfort.
After a time, Lin Yao tugged at Xin An’s sleeve, signalling toward the garden’s entrance. “The person you were waiting for has arrived.”