18 Stirring the Jiangnan Region

"Fourth Sister, your hand!" Lin Zijin exclaimed, her face paling in shock.

Lin Qingxu rose like a whirlwind and slapped Ying Tong twice in quick succession, cursing, "You useless wretch! How did you manage things? To spill soup on my sister’s hand—are you looking to die? Fourth Sister, how is your hand?"

Lin Yuejiao’s right hand had been scalded by the hot soup, leaving a large, swollen red patch that burned with intense pain. Iris was so distressed that tears welled in her eyes. "Someone, call a physician, quickly!"

The commotion instantly drew everyone's attention. Even before the Si family’s physician could arrive, the Heir of Zhongyi had already sent Shang Lu over.

After cleaning the wound with ice water, Shang Lu applied a cooling, anti-inflammatory ointment to Lin Yuejiao’s hand. The searing pain vanished almost instantly; the medicine was remarkably effective.

"Fourth Miss Lin’s injury is not severe, but she will be unable to use this hand for the next four or five days," Shang Lu stated, handing a small jar to Lin Yuejiao. "This is the ointment; apply it every morning and evening."

"Thank you, Physician," Lin Yuejiao said, though her gaze drifted past him toward Rong Yu, who sat at the head of the table.

He did not seem to notice the disturbance, as he was occupied in conversation with Li Moqian. Lin Yuejiao promptly withdrew her gaze.

Yet, the moment she looked away, Rong Yu turned his eyes toward her, his handsome brows furrowing slightly. She was hurt.

"Fourth Miss Lin, your hand is injured—let me see!" Wen Zeye pushed his way to the front, reaching out to grab her hand.

Lin Yuejiao tucked her hand behind her back and smiled faintly. "Thank you for your concern, Young Master Wen. It is nothing serious; it has already been bandaged."

Realizing his gesture was too forward, Wen Zeye awkwardly scratched his head. He patted his robes and said, "I didn't bring medicine with me, but I will have some sent to you later."

"I appreciate the offer, but the physician has already prescribed medication. There is no need, thank you," Lin Yuejiao replied with a thin smile.

Wen Zeye offered like a child presenting a treasure, "How could a physician's medicine compare to mine? This is the Ice-Skin Jade-Bone Ointment bestowed upon me by the Empress Dowager herself..."

Before he could finish, he caught sight of the small jade jar held by Iris and choked on his words. "Oh, so you are already using something."

Glancing at Shang Lu, Wen Zeye added, "No wonder. If it is the Heir of Zhongyi’s medicine, then I am relieved."

Lin Yuejiao could not help but glance at the jade jar once more.

"Fourth Sister, it was all that lowly maid’s carelessness. I have already punished her severely. If you are still not satisfied, I will not utter a word even if you have her beaten to death," Lin Qingxu said hypocritically.

Lin Yuejiao cast a glance at the maid kneeling on the ground, her face swollen like a bun, and said, "Just be more careful next time. There is no need to take her life."

"You lowly wench, hurry and thank Fourth Sister for sparing your life!" Lin Qingxu kicked Ying Tong, feeling smugly triumphant inside.

Ying Tong kowtowed repeatedly. "This servant thanks Fourth Miss for her mercy."

"Fourth Sister, with your hand injured like this, what will you do about the performance? Can you still sing?" Lin Zijin asked with concern.

Hearing this, Lin Qingxu grew tense. Lin Yuejiao shook her head. "I will not participate. I shall simply watch."

"Oh, Fourth Sister, do not worry. This is not a major exam; it is no matter if you miss it," Lin Zijin consoled.

The joy in Lin Qingxu’s eyes was impossible to hide; she was so delighted she nearly clapped her hands in glee.

With this interlude over, the ladies' competition finally began. The hall was soon filled with the sounds of zithers, painting, singing, flute-playing, and dancing—a dazzling display of revelry.

Eventually, it was Lin Qingxu’s turn. Two guards brought a table into the center of the hall, and her maid spread out the rice paper. The ink had long been prepared. Lin Qingxu took up her brush and painted a vibrant scene of a summer lotus pond.

Rong Yu merely glanced at it without comment. Li Moqian offered a few polite praises, but he complimented every lady who performed, showing no special favor to her.

Deeply dissatisfied, Lin Qingxu had a sudden inspiration. "Thank you all for your kind words. In truth, my painting skills are far inferior to those of my Fourth Sister, Lin Yuejiao. Fourth Sister, why not paint something for us as well?"

"Second Miss, our mistress has just been scalded," Iris said indignantly.

Lin Qingxu looked at Lin Yuejiao with a mocking smile. "It is of no consequence; it is but a minor burn. I am sure Fourth Sister does not mind. Besides, even if she only uses a fraction of her usual skill, she would still far surpass me. Fourth Sister, please, paint us a lotus pond as well."

As she spoke, many eyes turned toward Lin Yuejiao. The noblewomen looked on with mockery; everyone knew that painting and calligraphy were the most demanding tasks for one's hands. With Lin Yuejiao’s injury, she would be lucky to exhibit even twenty percent of her talent.

"What nonsense are you spouting? Lin Yuejiao’s hand is bandaged like a dumpling; how is she to hold a brush?" Wen Zeye scoffed indignantly. "Aren't you her Second Sister? Is this how you treat your own kin?"

After the incident with Lin Xueshu, Wen Zeye felt he owed Lin Yuejiao a favor and stood up for her.

Seeing Wen Zeye championing her, Lin Qingxu felt a surge of hatred, yet she smiled on the surface. "Young Master Wen does not know my sister's ability. I have never seen anyone paint more beautifully than she; even injured, she will surely paint better than I."

She was using a "praise-to-kill" tactic—ostensibly flattering Lin Yuejiao to force her into a humiliating position.

Just then, a crisp voice rang out from the crowd. "Lin Yuejiao was able to solve an ancient riddle, so she must be extraordinary. Everyone calls her the 'Li Moqian among women.' We all know Master Li is a master of all arts, but I wonder if this 'female Li Moqian' is merely living up to an empty reputation."

Lin Yuejiao looked toward the voice and saw a richly dressed noblewoman, beautiful but unfamiliar.

Once she finished, another woman chimed in. "Indeed, I too wish to see it. Please, Fourth Miss Lin, grace us with your skill..."

"Refusing to paint? Do you think us unworthy of appreciating your work?"

The ladies began to clamor. Lin Yuejiao did not recognize them, but she understood that her earlier success with the riddle and the special attention from Rong Yu had made them jealous. Now, they were ganging up on her, hoping to see her fail.

Lin Qingxu felt triumphant seeing everyone join in.

Lin Yuejiao scanned the room, her expression devoid of anger. She said calmly, "I am honored by your expectations, but I must clarify: I am unworthy of the title 'Li Moqian among women.' Master Li’s talent is known to all under heaven; how could I dare compare myself to him? As you said, Master Li is a master of all arts, whereas I only possess a superficial understanding. I cannot be mentioned in the same breath as him."

Rong Yu’s eyes remained fixed on Lin Yuejiao. Others took her words as an excuse for her inability to paint, but Rong Yu sensed that this woman was about to erupt.

"So, you are saying you know nothing of the arts?" the first woman sneered.

If Lin Yuejiao answered "yes," she would instantly become a laughingstock.

"I said I possess a superficial understanding," Lin Yuejiao replied, her lips curving into a subtle smile.

Lin Qingxu immediately seized the moment. "Fourth Sister, come up and paint. Let everyone see how brilliant your work is."

"You flatter me, Second Sister. My painting is average, but since you all wish to see it, I cannot dampen your spirits." Lin Yuejiao stepped out, her silver-white gown fluttering as she moved with an ethereal, captivating grace.

She walked onto the stage, her every movement drawing the eyes of everyone in the hall.

She reached the table where Lin Qingxu had painted. Lin Qingxu’s work had already been hung on a rack, leaving only blank paper. Lin Yuejiao picked up the brush.

The moment she touched the brush to the paper, the crowd gasped. Many rose from their seats, craning their necks to see.

Lin Yuejiao was not using her injured right hand; she was painting with her left.

Lin Qingxu was startled, but she comforted herself: Lin Yuejiao was only fifteen. Even if she had practiced left-handed painting, she could not have achieved true mastery; it would be nothing more than a crude attempt.

However, Lin Yuejiao painted with great speed—her left hand no slower than Lin Qingxu’s right. Within moments, a complete lotus pond appeared on the paper.

Setting down the brush, Lin Yuejiao lifted the painting and placed it before Rong Yu’s table.

The paper displayed a lotus pond, but in terms of brushwork, layering, and depth of spirit, it was far superior to Lin Qingxu’s work.

"Excellent! Truly excellent! To think one could achieve such mastery with the left hand—superb!" Li Moqian clapped in admiration, looking at Lin Yuejiao with genuine appreciation. "Fourth Miss, you impress me time and again. Is there anything you cannot do?"

Rong Yu’s gaze fell upon the painting, then drifted to Lin Yuejiao’s bandaged hand.

While others marveled at her stunning left-handed display and her dual brilliance in talent and beauty, only his eyes found the white bandages blindingly intrusive.

First, they injured her right hand, then they forced her to paint. Her left-handed masterpiece was not a ploy for attention, but a brilliant counterattack against those who sought to corner her.

Li Moqian personally hung the painting on the rack for all to see. The crowd fell silent, finally witnessing the legendary left-handed skill.

Lin Qingxu’s face turned deathly pale, and she was filled with such regret she could have died on the spot. Lin Zijin was completely won over by Lin Yuejiao’s talent.

As the crowd murmured in awe, their eyes toward Lin Yuejiao changed once more. Seeing the look of utter regret on Lin Qingxu’s face, Lin Yuejiao felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

"Lin Qingxu, you were right. Lin Yuejiao truly does paint better than you, even when injured," Wen Zeye remarked, admiring the painting while taking the opportunity to jab at Lin Qingxu.