Page 48 of Silk and Sensibility

Captain Bai winced, but he quickly recovered as he took Sandy’s zither. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you in any way. How­ever, please know that I am always willing to listen and help.”

Meilin looked away. He was pleasant only when talking about music. When he showed personal interest in her, it was . . . too much. His concern made it hard for her to think. She vowed to never ask for his help.

Meilin’s zither sounded out of tune no matter how much she fiddled with the pegs. The wrongness of her music matched the depressingly bitter wind sweeping through the courtyard where she played alone.

For days, she had waited for news from Master Wei, but her only reward was thirdhand gossip from Grand­mother Jiang. According to her, the reason why Master Wei had to hurry away from Suzhou was a dispute regarding his inheritance. He had long been recognized as the heir of his childless uncle, but when news came of his uncle’s youngest concubine giving birth to a son, Master Wei’s position was suddenly threatened. Meilin thought Grand­mother Jiang’s story was ridiculous.

Like Meilin’s muddled chords, the idea of Master Wei leaving Suzhou for a reason as trivial as inheritance money did not make sense. It wasn’t as if his livelihood and happiness depended on his uncle. He had his writing, and Meilin was willing to support him. There was no reason for him to worry so much about money.

Familiar shuffling footsteps announced Ailin’s approach. “It’s time for dinner.”

Without pausing her playing, Meilin looked up.

While Meilin was in turmoil, Ailin looked as serene as a bodhisattva. Though her sister hadn’t said anything since Master Wei’s departure, her attitude showed condescension.

Meilin lost her appetite. “Can you tell everyone I can’t make it? I’m not feeling well.”

Ailin took a few steps closer and set her hands on Meilin’s zither strings, forcibly stopping her music. “You’ll feel worse if you don’t eat. Come.”

“How would you know how I’m feeling?” Meilin asked angrily. Ailin was always so presumptuous, acting like she knew best, regardless of the situation.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Skipping dinner to play your zither outside in the cold is not going to bring him back any faster.”

“Do you think he’ll be back soon?” Meilin asked. Despite her frustration with Ailin’s lack of empathy, she hoped to hear words of comfort. If her pessimistic older sister could say anything positive, it was as good as fact.

Ailin tucked her hands into her heavy silk sleeves. “I don’t presume to know Master Wei’s plans.”

“But if you had to guess, based on instinct?”

“I would look back at everything he told you to confirm whether he ever said he intended to return.” Ailin’s rationality was as cold as the air.

“So you think he doesn’t intend to come back for me at all.”

Ailin might as well have called Meilin a jilted fool. Her sister had always told her to be more careful, to guard her feelings, to never say what she felt. Now Ailin had the perfect opportunity to exult in her seeming rightness, and the only reason she was holding back was because she thought herself too noble to do so. That aspect of Ailin’s personality drove Meilin mad. Ailin was always gāo gāo zài shàng—so out of touch.

Meilin would not stand for it. She knew how she and Master Wei felt about each other, and she would prove to Ailin that she was right. “Don’t judge when you don’t know him as well as I do.”

Ming­ming appeared at that moment. “What’s taking you two so long? Lucky said there’s going to be fried dumplings at dinner.”

Meilin glanced at Ailin and saw her resigned expression. Neither of them could reject their youngest sister, regardless of how they were feeling about each other.

“Coming,” they said at the same time.

Dinner without Master Wei felt louder than usual, though there were only sixteen people at the table. Perhaps the absence of an additional adult emboldened the children to be rowdy, or perhaps Uncle Meng and Grand­mother Jiang’s planned business trip to Hangzhou with the Pangs made everyone overexcited.

“It will be reassuring to have your help with the taxes, Meng-­xiōng,” Master Pang said as he helped himself to some fried dumplings.

“And Mama will be so happy to see you, Mother,” Madame Pang added.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Cai-mèimei too,” Grand­mother Jiang said.

When the conversation moved to the topic of reaching out to the Fan household regarding Shen Lusi’s marriage, Meilin—who already didn’t want to be present—turned her attention elsewhere.

Curiously, on the other side of the table, Sandy tugged on Captain Bai’s sleeve as if she wanted something. The captain frowned and shook his head, but Sandy furrowed her brows and pushed his arm. Captain Bai sighed in resignation before clearing his throat.

“Excuse me, Grand­mother Jiang.”

Everyone turned to look at him, as they did whenever he spoke.