Page 59 of Silk and Sensibility

On the carriage ride back to the Jiang residence, everyone sat in uneasy silence. Meilin’s eyes were rimmed red and swollen. Perhaps she was still feeling nauseous too.

When they arrived at home, Grand­mother Jiang sent her own maid to escort Meilin to her room, with careful instructions to bring the girl stomach-soothing foods and rest-promoting incense.

Ailin moved to follow, but Grand­mother Jiang pulled her aside.

“Come with me. I need to speak with you.”

Ailin obeyed, but her unease grew with each step as they headed to Grand­mother Jiang’s personal chambers. Accustomed to speaking her mind freely, the old lady would not take pains to talk to Ailin privately unless the matter was serious.

Despite Grand­mother Jiang’s wealth and how richly she liked to dress, her room was surprisingly bare. Her furnishings were minimal and decorations nonexistent except for a few paintings obviously produced by her grandchildren. She seemed very different in public and private.

The old lady sat down at a table and pointed to a chair near her. Once Ailin joined her, Grand­mother Jiang spoke.

“Now that we are alone, I must speak pointedly. What happened today was not good. Your sister’s reaction to the betrothal announcement of Miss Gao was noticed by many. Even if Miss Gao herself did not notice at the time, word will get back to her.”

Ailin bowed her head. She had warned Meilin against behaving carelessly multiple times and failed. “I’m sorry for my sister’s lack of discretion.”

“Chin up, dear. It’s not your fault that your sister is not suited for social events. She’s a perfectly fine girl otherwise. And if I had been in her shoes today, I would have been just as upset, perhaps more so.”

Ailin looked up as Grand­mother Jiang poured herself a cup of tea from a pot on the table.

The old lady sipped, then frowned as if the drink was over-steeped. She set the cup down. “While your sister emptied her guts over the back of the boat, I listened to the gossip from the other ladies. I already knew that Wei Luobi left Suzhou because his inheritance was threatened, but, today, I learned that he became betrothed to Magistrate Gao’s daughter as soon as he returned to Hangzhou. They met through mutual acquaintances at the theater and are set to be married next month.”

“So soon?” Ailin could not hold back her surprise. Although she had warned Meilin against being too open with her affections, she had perceived Wei Luobi’s interest in her sister as genuine, even if not committed.

“He’s marrying Miss Gao so Old Master Su can’t cut him out as an heir,” Grand­mother Jiang explained. “If they marry, then he’ll not only get a fat dowry from Magistrate Gao but also more influence in court if he wants to fight his uncle over the inheritance.”

Ailin clenched her fists. She had never particularly trusted Wei Luobi, but he had at least seemed gentlemanly. His behavior now was deplorable in all senses. Meilin had given him her heart, and he played with it like a cheap toy before discarding it for money and power. There was no excuse for his actions except for greed.

Grand­mother Jiang took another sip of tea and sighed. “I’m not telling you these things because I want to gossip, Ailin. It’s because I want you to be prepared. You look delicate, but you’re a strong girl. Your sister, on the other hand, looks bold on the outside, but her heart is made of crystal. Someone who loves passionately also hurts deeply when disappointed. She’s going to need your help over the next few weeks. Stay strong and don’t give up on her.”

“I promise I will do my best, ma’am, and I apologize for the trouble we are causing.”

Grand­mother Jiang shrugged. “She’s young, so perhaps trouble is to be expected. All we can do is learn and move forward.”

“Thank you for your patience.”

Ailin took a deep breath. Having recently experienced heartbreak herself, she knew how difficult the news of Wei Luobi’s marriage must be for Meilin. Unlike Ailin, Meilin hadn’t yet had time to sift through her feelings. On top of that, Meilin’s dramatic reaction had brought the threat of social repercussion from Miss Gao. The coming weeks were going to be a storm.

A whole week passed, but Meilin’s mood only grew worse, not better. For seven days, she didn’t touch her zither. It was as if her soul had died and she was in mourning. As soon as Meilin’s arms had grown long enough to reach the different parts of the instrument, she had never stayed away from the zither for more than a day at a time. She played when she was happy, and she played when she was sad. When their father passed away, she played his favorite song for days, as if repeating “The Fisherman and the Woodcutter” enough times could bring him back from the dead.

Meilin’s silent zither strings were unnerving.

Ailin’s efforts to comfort her sister—checking on her every morning, talking to her about happy topics, and making her walk in the garden for physical exercise—were all useless. Nothing roused Meilin from her despondency.

It was only through Ailin’s daily cajoling that she even came to the dinner table with the rest of the family. Even when she was there, she ate little besides rice and vegetables. After a week, other family members were clearly worried as well.

One night, Uncle Meng pushed a plate of sweet-and-sour fish toward Meilin. “Why don’t you try some of this delicious fish? Your mother and I never had delicacies like this to eat when we were young. The carp was freshly caught from West Lake today.”

At the mention of West Lake, Meilin’s lips trembled, and her eyes began watering.

Flustered, Uncle Meng pulled his hand back from the plate as if it was cursed.

Ailin felt bad and snagged a boneless piece of fish, placing it in Meilin’s bowl herself. “Please try some,” she pleaded.

“Come, come, Meilin,” Madame Pang said sympathetically from across the table. “You’re probably not the first girl to lose her heart to the wrong man, and you won’t be the last. Cheer up and have some fish.”

Tears fell from Meilin’s eyes. Without asking to be excused, she stood up and ran from the dining room. In the past, Ailin would have considered this the epitome of rudeness, but this had become Meilin’s new normal.