Page 60 of Silk and Sensibility

Ailin apologized on her sister’s behalf and rose to follow her.

“Please sit,” Grand­mother Jiang said, making Ailin freeze in her tracks. “My maid will check on Meilin. We need you here to discuss a recent matter.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted. The air, once heavy with tension, was now cold and sharp, like a northern army commander’s tent in winter. Terrible news seemed on its way.

“Jiehan and Tai told me that Magistrate Gao’s yámen runners came to them this afternoon, demanding an early shipment of taxes or they would arrest our workers. They’re coming after us personally.”

“What does that mean?” Ailin’s stomach tightened as she looked from Grand­mother Jiang to her kind Uncle Meng. He was usually energetic for a middle-aged man, but today he looked old.

Madame Cai answered. “The magistrate is sending his men to threaten us because he thinks we embarrassed his daughter at the poetry club gathering. He never liked our family before, but his extortion is outrageous this time.”

This was Ailin’s worst nightmare. Not only was Meilin suffering, but their whole family was being targeted. This was far worse than the nasty looks and whispers Ailin had been expecting. Grand­mother Jiang might be rich, but her family consisted of merchants, not people who could counter the threats of government officials. Ailin had been careful to observe etiquette her whole life precisely to avoid offending powerful people. She suspected this was why Father avoided politics as well.

“What can we do?” she asked even though the matter felt hopeless.

“We have to appeal to people higher up than the county magistrate if we want him to stop bullying our family,” Grand­mother Jiang said as if outlining the next steps of a wéiqí game. “I have several friends I need to visit in the next few days, and I believe you have one as well.”

Ailin combed through her mind to think of who Grand­mother Jiang was referring to. She knew almost no one in Hangzhou.

Madame Cai spoke in a determinedly upbeat voice. “What do you think of going to the Prefect’s Residence tomorrow to pay Madame Qiu that visit you promised?”

The next morning, Ailin accompanied Madame Cai on a carriage ride to Madame Qiu’s home. She brought several of her best paintings as gifts, but the idea of approaching Madame Qiu for political reasons troubled her.

Madame Qiu had a profound understanding of art, and Ailin did not want to seem vulgar in her presence. At West Lake, Madame Qiu mentioned owning one of Ailin’s works from Nanjing. That meant she was acquainted with people who knew Uncle Chen. Though Ailin barely knew her, the lady’s connection to someone Father had respected meant something to Ailin that was hard to describe. To taint the kind of friendship she might have with Madame Qiu by asking for favors was repugnant to her.

On the other hand, if Ailin didn’t ask for help from Madame Qiu, then she would be leaving Grand­mother Jiang’s family to deal with the Gao family’s threats on their own. That wasn’t right either. After all the support she, her mother, and her sisters had received from the Jiang clan, it was her duty to help them in any way she could, especially since their current troubles had been triggered by Meilin.

Ailin was still in a turbulent state of mind when the carriage pulled up to the Prefect’s Residence.

The stately mansion projected power and competence, with a horizontal biǎn’é hanging over a large, rectangular gate to mark its significance. Inside the walls, the front garden was large enough to be imposing but compact enough to avoid ostentation. The courtyard was more rockery than greenery, and the trees and bushes seemed carefully selected for efficient maintenance.

Madame Qiu met Ailin and Madame Cai in the inner quarters where she lived. The decorative style deeper in the residence was softer and perhaps influenced by her preferences. Pots of rare orchids sat next to other well-tended plants. A golden-haired cat lounged in the corner of the garden.

“Thank you for visiting,” Madame Qiu said. She personally poured tea for her guests and offered a cup to Madame Cai.

“It is our honor.” Madame Cai admired the tea’s fragrance before she sipped, showing courtesy for Madame Qiu’s hospitality.

Ailin tried to calm her nerves as she drank her own cup of tea, wondering how best to bring up the matter of Magistrate Gao. As a younger woman with little influence, she owed deference to Madame Qiu and could not speak out of turn. Even though Madame Qiu was only a concubine, she was an intelligent and educated woman said to be so trusted by Prefect Yao that she was the sole manager of his official residence. She was the only channel through which Ailin’s family could get the ear of the prefect, so everything depended on the impression that Ailin would make during this visit.

“I brought a small gift for you, Madame Qiu,” Ailin said as she presented a box with one of her paintings.

Madame Qiu took the box, opened it with delicate fingers, then unrolled the scroll inside.

Ailin’s heart beat nervously. No matter how many hours she practiced painting, the wait for judgment from people she cared about was always nerve-racking.

“This is a lovely painting of Guānyīn,” Madame Qiu said in a neutral tone. “The details on this lotus remind me of your paintings from Nanjing. You are skilled in painting both plants and human figures.”

Ailin bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“Have you ever tried painting anything more ambitious?”

“Pardon?”

Madame Qiu set the Guānyīn painting back in its box. “I appreciate this beautiful gift, but I can tell that you chose this for me because you know it is good, not because it is the best work you can do.”

Ailin swallowed nervously. Did Madame Qiu dislike her painting? Did she think that Ailin was slighting her by offering a substandard gift? Ailin quickly tried to think of a way to salvage her relationship with Madame Qiu.

“I practiced painting the bodhisattva for many months before creating this painting. I apologize that the crudeness of my skills has displeased you.”