Chapter 97: Drunk

The Shen family banquet was set for two days hence.
Old Madam Shen had proposed it herself—but every year Ren Wanyun had managed the feast. This year it fell to Chen Ruoqiu. With household authority now in Chen Ruoqiu's hands, Old Madam thought she had granted enormous face—unaware the glittering task was privately miserable.
In Qiushui Pavilion Chen Ruoqiu sat at her desk—ledger in one hand, abacus in the other, clumsily. Two maids behind her said: "Madam—you've calculated all morning. Rest awhile."
"The silver still won't balance." Chen Ruoqiu shook her head, troubled. "Tomorrow's expenses—I'll pay from my own purse again." Anger crossed her face.
Chen Ruoqiu styled herself a noble daughter of a literary house—proud, aloof, despising the stink of copper. When Old Madam gave household power to Ren Wanyun she had been jealous yet too proud to fight—a knot in her heart. Years later she was mistress of the Shen house—only to find the keys were not easy to hold.
Ren Wanyun came from merchant wealth—when Old Madam wanted extra silver, Ren Wanyun could skim her dowry; she never lacked money. The Chen family were civil officials—"clean sleeves" in polite speech, "poor" in blunt. Where could Chen Ruoqiu find silver to subsidize? She thought taking charge would free funds for the household. Now she saw Ren Wanyun had skimmed plenty—accounts did not match. The banquet loomed; silver fell short.
Before, palace gifts from Shen Xin's branch had padded the surplus generously. Now Shen Xin and the family were estranged—no intention to subsidize the public purse. Chen Ruoqiu's head ached.
"Old Madam knows public silver is short—yet insists on a banquet now. Bullying Madam." Her maid Shiqing fumed for her.
"First Master won't rescue either. Madam's silver short—ask Master for some?" Huayi said.
"Nonsense." Chen Ruoqiu said. "Master's salary barely covers official obligations—how can he pay more?" She paused. "I'll think of something." Shen Wan wanted office; Shen Gui was different—ambitious without talent, only fawning on Fengying. Shen Wan climbed step by step—slow but steady.
Chen Ruoqiu knew—no son born, in second branch she relied on Shen Wan's love. So she played gentle and compliant. Fail at household silver—annoy Shen Wan? With his prospects, women lined up to enter second branch—she would not fall behind.
"Besides—this silver isn't wasted." Chen Ruoqiu's eyes flickered. "If there's gain—worth the price."
"Madam means—"
Chen Ruoqiu smiled. "Old Madam—why a banquet now, not earlier or later? Odd timing. And I hear that Suzhou cousin girl loved running to West Court…" disgust in her gaze. "Old Madam's hand is low—but… conveniently, I dislike Qiu too."
Chen Ruoqiu disliked Yuan—and Qiu. She feared Yuan somewhat; toward Qiu it was open contempt. No son of her own—she could not bear others' excellent sons. Qiu—only a blade-swinging brute—why so much praise? What one cannot have, one destroys. Yuan was deep—she dared not touch him. Qiu was open and honest, never survived rear-court wars—easy prey. Best of all—she need not act. Old Madam would act; Chen Ruoqiu need only watch.
"I'll write more invitations," Chen Ruoqiu said. "Send them to every madam's house." Spectators—the more the merrier.
……
Two days later—the Shen family banquet.
Since Ren Wanyun went mad, great ladies had cut ties—unwed pregnancy was no honor. No one asked after her—tree fallen, monkeys scattered.
Those once close to Ren Wanyun now drew near Chen Ruoqiu. Ren Wanyun could not be visited—but Shen ties must hold. The mansion had more than one mistress; compared to Luo Xueyan—often absent, coarse reputation—Chen Ruoqiu from a literary house was easier to flatter.
Madam Yi and Madam Jiang came early. Jiang Xiaoxuan and Yi Peilan pulled Shen Yue aside. "Guangwen Hall only after New Year—these days locked at home—so dull."
They chatted idly—forgotten Shen Qing's death, forgotten they had been Shen Qing's friends days ago. Friendship among capital ladies was thin—interest over person, ties to power behind the person.
Shen Yue answered with smiles—Shen Qing's matter silently erased. Bai Wei looked at a distant figure. "Who's that—the cousin you mentioned?"
She nodded at a girl in apricot dress—simple ornaments, speaking with her maid.
"That's Third Sister Dongling," Yue smiled. "Concubine-born—ill health kept her in—natural you haven't seen." She stressed "concubine."
Jiang Xiaoxuan and the others looked down their noses. Yi Peilan: "What ill health—just… came out. Concubine daughters—most scheming. Yue—don't be fooled." Yue laughed. "Third Sister rarely leaves her yard. Look—that's my cousin."
As Yue spoke Chuchu walked past—perhaps not seeing the three, no greeting. Bai Wei noticed. "Yue—you said your cousin was from Suzhou? Her clothes and jewelry look costly—that bracelet, finer than yours."
Careless words—Yue's face paled, forced smile. "I don't know—maybe Grandmother gave them."
"What's to see." Jiang Xiaoxuan said. "From Suzhou—can she match capital girls? Clothes and jewels can be faked—not breeding or air. That timid act—can't hold a stage."
Yue shook her head. "Don't speak of Cousin so."
"You're too kind." Yi Peilan exasperated. "Close to anyone—even that rough block you used to protect. Now she's risen—ignores you. By the way—where's the rough block?"
The "rough block" was Shen Miao. Since their quarrel at Guangwen Hall Yi Peilan treated Shen Miao as enemy number one—eager to trample her.
That rough block—now in West Court watching Qiu drink tea.
"What's Grandmother thinking?" Qiu frowned. "Inviting so many ladies—chattering everywhere—deafening."
"Probably every friend Third Aunt knows." Shen Miao handed Qiu tea. "Maybe they admire the young general's glory."
"Spare me, Little Sister." Qiu waved. "One is trouble enough—so many women—worse than battle."
Shen Miao almost laughed—Qiu treating women like flood and beast was absurd. Yet around him most women schemed; Shen mansion women were no soft touches—for his blunt nature, a demon den.
"Not all are hard to manage." Shen Miao soothed. "When you meet a girl you favor—you won't think so."
Qiu stared as if haunted. After a moment shook his head. "Little Sister—that look just now—exactly like Mother."
Shen Miao: "……" Treating Qiu like Fu Ming, almost.
She was about to speak when noise outside—she and Qiu exchanged glances, went out. At the yard gate someone shouted: "What's wrong with you? I just came to see Shen Miao—let me in!"
Shen Miao paused. "Feng Anning?"
Hearing Shen Miao, the man held her waved anyway. "It's me, Shen Miao—make them let go!"
"Release her." Shen Miao said. "She's the Feng family's young lady."
Freed, Feng Anning brushed dust angrily. "What's wrong with you—why so many guards outside your yard? I thought something happened—that's why I came in. Blocking people like this—Shen Miao, are you ill?"
First time blocked—young mistress temper erupted; she scolded Shen Miao head to toe. She stepped on Qiu's sore spot—Qiu stepped forward, brows cold. "Who are you? Shouting in another's house—know propriety?"
Shen Miao: "……" Qiu lecturing on propriety—rich.
About to retort, Anning looked up, paused. Qiu—sword brows, bright eyes, very handsome—unlike Dingjing's soft young masters. Warm smile was open innocence; cold face was the fearsome young general—iron and blood.
Anning's arrogance shrank. Softly: "Who are you?"
"My elder brother." Shen Miao said.
Qiu had name in Dingjing—South Xie, North Shen—the young marquis and young general often compared. Pity Xie Jingxing refused office—else they'd be the generation's finest warriors.
"Why did you come?" Seeing Anning awkward, Shen Miao asked.
Anning complained at once. "To talk to you! Guangwen Hall—since they know I'm close to you—they ostracize me too. Who cares—I came to you."
Qiu's face eased somewhat. He knew Shen Miao was cold-shouldered at school—years away, could not always protect her. A friend now—spoiled, ill-mannered—but… usable.
They did not know "close" existed only in Anning's mind—Shen Miao had no leisure for friendship.
"Your friend is here—chat." Qiu coughed. "I'll find Father."
Shen Miao agreed. After Qiu left Anning whispered: "Your brother's terrifying—scared me to death."
Terrifying… Shen Miao would not explain. "Yes—he kills like mowing grass."
Anning patted her chest, relieved. "Good I apologized fast—won't charge in like that again."
……
Unnoticed, banquet time arrived.
Men and women sat apart—ladies in Rongjing Hall's guest chamber; men managed by Shen Gui and Shen Wan. Shen Xin had little interest—no patience for capital flattery—sat drinking alone.
Few male guests—all literary friends of Shen Gui and Shen Wan—little to say to Shen Xin. A lively table—and Shen Xin and Qiu seemed deliberately cold-shouldered. Qiu did not mind—ate happily. Yuan, oddly, showed Shen Gui's polish—smooth manners that turned Qiu's stomach.
Among the ladies, Luo Xueyan and Shen Miao were cold-shouldered. Chen Ruoqiu's sisters must support her face. They could not insult Shen Miao before Luo Xueyan—but ignoring her was allowed. Chen Ruoqiu and Yue were questioned endlessly; even Chuchu and Dongling got false concern—only Shen Miao, deliberately unseen.
Luo Xueyan angered—old Shen Miao would have sulked. Now Shen Miao ate and drank with restraint—every move noble, imposing—illusion that not they ignoring her, but she disdaining them.
Punching cotton—after rounds, interest faded.
Madam Yi smiled. "They say Suzhou breeds grace—I never believed—seeing Old Madam's cousin girl, it's true. Our capital can't raise such delicate girls."
Old Madam showed Chuchu utmost favor on the banquet—reason unknown—ladies were not fools. Flatter Chuchu—no harm.
Chuchu flushed, bowed silent. Old Madam laughed. "Madam Yi—I won't allow it—Miss Yi is delicate too—I adore her."
Yi Peilan thanked Old Madam, curious about Chuchu. Soft to Yue: "Grandmother really favors your cousin."
Yue answered vaguely, puzzled inwardly.
Dongling sat in a corner—Wan Yiniang could not attend such occasions. No birth mother's support, no Old Madam's favor—obscure. Yet Dongling showed no resentment—ate quietly, proper un-favored legitimate daughter.
Old Madam urged Chuchu to eat, praised her to guests—obedient clever petite beauty—heaven and earth unmatched.
Until a tea-pouring maid splashed Chuchu—praise stopped. Old Madam scolded: "Careless! What if you scalded Cousin Miss?"
"No matter." Chuchu smiled. "Tea wasn't hot—I'm fine."
"Clothes are wet." Old Madam eyed the large stain on Chuchu's bodice. "Cold day—can't wear wet clothes. Xi'er—take Cousin Miss to change. Don't catch cold."
Chuchu looked at her bodice—winter clothes had weight; tea soaked into cotton—uncomfortable worn wet. She did not refuse—blushing thanked Old Madam, bowed to the ladies, followed the maid.
Madam Jiang: "Miss Jing is blessed—Old Madam favors her so."
"Not her blessing," Old Madam's wrinkles piled in a smile, "my blessing—obedient girl—I love her."
More flattery. Chen Ruoqiu glanced at Old Madam—eyes drifted to Shen Miao. Feeling the gaze, Shen Miao looked back, slight puzzlement.
Chen Ruoqiu smiled, lowered head—secret satisfaction. She did not see—in that instant Shen Miao's puzzlement vanished—replaced by faint smile; look closely—something like excitement.
At the table Dongling glanced at Shen Miao unnoticed, quickly returned to her bowl.
Men's table—less refined than ladies', official style—wine warm, faces red. Shen Xin and Qiu cold-shouldered—but colleagues came to toast; after cups Qiu's head grew heavy.
"You brat—drunk after a few cups—didn't you eat?" Shen Xin raged.
Qiu rubbed his brow, shook head. "Don't know." Raised in camp—this wine should be nothing—they drank by the jar in army; Dingjing wine too weak—today slapped his face.
"Years wasted on you." Shen Xin exasperated.
"Uncle, don't anger." Guansheng smiled. "Cousin isn't weak—he mixed Futou wine and Yinguang wine." He pointed at Qiu's cup—neither red like Futou nor clear like Yinguang—mixed. "Some drink Yinguang, some Futou—Cousin likely didn't notice, poured together. Mixed—others fall at half a cup—Cousin still conscious—that's already impressive."
Laughter. "Nephew's capacity is fine—General Shen, don't blame him."
Yuan glanced at Qiu. "Elder Brother can't keep drinking—best rest in his room."
Qiu waved, mumbled unintelligibly—clearly very drunk.
"I'll escort Cousin back." Guansheng smiled.
Hard to refuse a smiling face—Shen Xin disliked Guansheng over Shen Miao's matter—but since guards at the gate Guansheng had been tame. Shen Xin looked at him. "Then trouble you and A Zhi to help him."
Guansheng rose—Qiu grabbed Yuan, shook head. "A Zhi—you take me."
Yuan paused. Shen Xin frowned. "This kid—mistook you for A Zhi." To Qiu: "Brat—let go of your Second Brother."
Qiu did not move. Yuan's eyes shifted. "Cousin and I are the same—I'll take Elder Brother back." He supported Qiu—before Shen Xin refused, walked out.
Shen Xin was about to speak—Shen Wan came with wine. "Eldest Brother—a toast!"
……
The banquet's small stir—no one minded. People in and out—ordinary. Until feast end—ladies strolling in the courtyard—Madam Bai remembered: "Why hasn't Miss Jing returned?"
Chuchu had gone to change after spilled tea—never reappeared. Old Madam startled, to Xi'er: "Go ask why Cousin Miss isn't back yet."
"Maybe a little drunk." Yue smiled. "She drank honey wine—sweet but strong. Cousin loves sweet—I forgot to stop her—perhaps dizzy, resting in her room."
Xi'er left.
Anning curled her lip, nudged Shen Miao. "Thought your house full of daughters—banquet would be lively. I dragged Mother here—boring as anywhere." Anning was Guanglu Marquis's jewel—no many sisters—but Shen Miao had sisters yet no closeness, even cold-shouldered—Anning found it dull.
"Always thus." Shen Miao answered.
Anning looked around. "I'm going to the privy—wait for me."
After Anning left with her maid, Xi'er returned to Old Madam, shook head. "Old Madam—Cousin Miss isn't in her room."
"Not in her room?" Old Madam's voice rose—all ladies looked; she hurriedly lowered it. "Then where?"
Xi'er shook head. "Servants don't know."
"That girl—" Old Madam anxious. "Nothing happened?"
Her manner set shrewd ladies thinking.
"Old Madam?" Chen Ruoqiu approached, learned the matter, smiled. "Don't worry—I just came from Master. Likely Chuchu is drunk. Coincidentally Qiu drank too—sent to rest. Our banquet wine is strong—Chuchu may have wandered to another room."
She casually named "Qiu drunk too"—Shen Miao's gaze turned sharp.
Old Madam shook head. "Send people to find Chuchu—still in the mansion—just don't want her catching cold." To the crowd: "Speaking of which—I lately got a gold Buddha embroidery—Zhang Qiaoxian double-sided work—hanging in my main hall. Ladies who wish—I'll lead you to see."
Zhang Qiaoxian was Ming Qi's embroidery master—priceless pieces. Ladies wanted to see. Shen Miao's lip curled—that double-sided piece was palace reward—years ago Shen Xin gave it to Old Madam—stingy as she was, never shown until now. Willing to spend blood today—must be for something else.
But… would it go Old Madam's way?
Ladies eagerly followed Old Madam to the embroidery. Rongjing Hall's main hall was a tea-room for guests—rarely used—Old Madam had few visitors—mostly empty.
Yet approaching the door—something odd.
Closed door—sounds inside—unclear what—something overturned.
Everyone halted.
"Who's inside? Where are the door guards?" Old Madam asked.
"Old Madam—they were here before—should be no one in the tea-room." Xi'er puzzled.
"Raised a pack of idlers—can't even guard a door!" Old Madam angry. "Open it!"