Page 38 of Silk and Sensibility

However, a glance at Ailin sitting rigidly reminded her of her sister’s preference for observing more than acting. Since Enze was primarily Ailin’s business, Meilin forced herself to refrain from intervening. But restraint was difficult.

Master Wei must have sensed the agitation she felt because he was extra attentive throughout the rest of the meal.

“This Master Fan seems beloved by so many, it almost makes me jealous,” he joked as he snagged a piece of fried shrimp for her that was beyond her reach.

His kindness and gentle humor made her want to tell him everything. In this moment of confusion and dismay, he gave her a flicker of hope.

“You have no reason to be jealous of anyone,” she said.

After dinner finally ended and the party dispersed, Meilin followed her sisters to Mama’s room. Real love was worth fighting for, so she would get to the bottom of the situation no matter what it took.

Meilin and Ming­ming pulled up stools so Mama and Ailin could sit on Mama’s big rosewood bed. In the privacy of the candlelit chamber, Meilin let her pent-up questions flow. “What in the world just happened? Did a woman really swoop out from nowhere to take Enze from us?”

Ailin closed her eyes as if her entire body was weighed down with fatigue. “Marriage is not war, Meilin. If Enze promised to marry Miss Shen, the matter is between them. We shouldn’t work ourselves up over it.”

Meilin couldn’t believe Ailin’s cold attitude. “But this matter concerns your future. He asked Mama for permission to marry you. Ming­ming and I were both there.”

She nudged her younger sister for support, and Ming­ming nodded.

“It’s true, dear.” Mama reached out to hold Ailin’s hand. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a young man as in love as Enze is with you. And I thought you were in love with him too.”

Ailin’s smile was tainted by sadness. “Regardless of what happened between us, there was never a formal agreement. Perhaps the past is better off forgotten.”

Ailin’s readiness to abandon her claim was so frustrating that Meilin rose to her feet and started pacing. “What if Shen Lusi is lying? How can we take her word for it that Enze wants to marry her when he never mentioned anything about her to us?”

“We must have misunderstood him.” Ailin nearly pulled off the matter-of-fact tone but for a slight hitch in her breath. “Besides, now that Miss Shen has told everyone about their promise to marry, how would arguing affect our reputations? Treating Miss Shen as a rival is beneath us.”

Indignant, Meilin stopped pacing. “Then would you have us stand by and watch? Enze isn’t formally betrothed to Shen Lusi, so we still have a chance to correct the situation if we act now.”

No matter what Shen Lusi said to everyone, Ailin had a right to fight for her own happiness. She hadn’t done anything wrong by forming an attachment to a young man her mother approved of, so why should she stay silent?

Ailin laughed, a sound as bitter as medicine. “And what would a corrected situation look like? Should I tell the world I’m competing with another woman to marry the same man? As far as honor is concerned, no good would come of that. We have nothing to gain from arguing with others or amongst ourselves. Master Fan is our sister-in-law’s brother and a friend to our family. I would rather keep our friendship than engage in unnecessary conflict. Let’s not mention this again.”

No one argued after Ailin put her foot down. The night passed, and the next day came, gray and gloomy. While Mama filled her day with needlework and Ming­ming went off with the older cousins for tutoring, Ailin locked herself in her room to paint, asking Begonia for help instead of Meilin. Having Ailin reject her desire to help hurt Meilin deeply. The bronze brazier in her room wasn’t as hot as the fire in her heart.

Meilin would do anything for her sister, but Ailin asked her to do nothing, which was a thousand times harder. Ailin was letting Enze slip through her fingers instead of holding on to their love. Her sister’s fear of conflict made Meilin’s anger burn so intensely she could not stay inside.

She grabbed her zither and headed outside, filling the estate’s middle garden with all the rage her seven-stringed instrument could produce. In the wan light of the afternoon sun, she struck note after note until the brisk winter air hummed with a rapid, energetic melody. Her song was one of rebels and dissidents.

As music swirled around her, Meilin thought of her father, her first and only music teacher. When he had played for himself, she would stare without moving, transfixed by the way his notes conjured images in her mind—mountains soaring through clouds, rivers roaring through canyons. Others spoke of Scholar Duan as the perfect gentleman, restrained and composed at all times. However, Meilin knew from the way Father played the zither that he was full of passion. He remained true to his ideals, no matter the opposition. She aspired to live like that—not ­hiding her feelings the way Ailin did.

How can she act so indifferent while another woman steals the man she loves?

Meilin struck an angry chord with force.

There was power in words. By merely talking about her hopes, Shen Lusi had turned herself into a disadvantaged heroine the Jiang family wanted to help. Meanwhile, Ailin suffered in silence like a foolish martyr.

If Ailin was as talkative as Shen Lusi, she might have been the one getting help from Grand­mother Jiang instead. If it was a matter of preference, surely Enze would choose Ailin over Shen Lusi. Though Shen Lusi and Ailin were comparable in beauty and wealth, in everything else they were like a sparrow and phoenix. For Enze’s scholarly aspirations, Ailin’s artistic and literary talent were much more compatible than Shen Lusi’s vulgar obsession with trade.

Shen Lusi’s claim itself felt questionable. Meilin had no doubt that Enze loved Ailin, and she could not fathom how a good man like him could have allowed himself to fall in love with one woman while being promised to marry another. It was simply impossible.

About halfway through Meilin’s song, a little girl with pigtails slipped into the courtyard. As the sound of other children’s voices drew closer, Sandy slipped behind a large boulder in the shape of a mountain. Treasure and Fortune soon burst into the courtyard.

“We’re playing hide-and-seek, Meilin-jiě! Have you seen Sandy?” Treasure asked.

Meilin shook her head but did not stop playing the zither. Treasure and Fortune quickly moved on to the next location in search of their elusive playmate.

Silly children, hide-and-seek wouldn’t be fun if I gave away her hiding place.