Chapter 19: Never Let a Grudge Last Until Morning

Lin Yuejiao let out a breath of relief and looked at Lin Ziqin. “Ziqin, please help me inscribe a dedication.”

“I?” Ye Qingyao was taken aback.

Lin Yuejiao smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

Everyone knew that after today, this Left-Hand Painting would surely become famous. Whose handwriting appeared on it would also gain renown alongside the painting.

This was Lin Yuejiao’s deliberate way to offer Lin Ziqin a chance to rise alongside her.

Such a golden opportunity—who wouldn’t wish to leave their mark on the Left-Hand Painting? Many even envied Lin Ziqin for being Lin Yuejiao’s sister.

Lin Qingxu shrieked sharply, “How can Lin Ziqin be worthy of writing on the Left-Hand Painting? It’s a perfect painting—do you want to ruin it with mere handwriting?”

“Oh? And what does Second Sister suggest?” Lin Yuejiao looked at her with a half-smile.

Lin Qingxu shamelessly said, “I’m your second sister, so I’ll write the inscription. You saw just now, my calligraphy isn’t bad. Since your right hand is injured and you can’t write, why not let me help you?”

Shameless.

Although Lin Yuejiao’s right hand was injured, she had practiced not only left-hand painting but also calligraphy with her left hand.

Li Moqian frowned and said, “If no one else wishes to inscribe, Fourth Miss, I would be honored to lend my brush.”

Li Moqian was already renowned throughout the Great Zhao Dynasty. His calligraphy was not for fame; on the contrary, his writing could elevate Lin Yuejiao’s reputation even further.

“Thank you for your kindness, Young Master Li. I dare not trouble you. Please, Sister Ziqin, inscribe for me,” Lin Yuejiao bowed respectfully, expressing gratitude to this great talent.

Lin Ziqin replied cautiously, “Fourth Sister, my handwriting is far inferior to Young Master Li’s. Moreover, his treasured works are priceless. If he could inscribe for you, your Left-Hand Painting would surely become famous throughout Jiangnan…”

“Even without Young Master Li’s inscription, it will become famous. I don’t mind,” Lin Yuejiao said, pressing the brush into her hand.

Her words carried a hint of pride, but they were the undeniable truth.

Lin Ziqin understood that the Moon Pavilion earnestly wished to nurture her.

“Thank you, Sister Ziqin,” Lin Ziqin bowed again, picked up the brush, and this time did not hesitate. The brush danced fluidly, inscribing two elegant lines of running script on the rice paper.

Lin Qingxu, seeing this, was consumed with jealousy and complained, “Fourth Sister, why do you favor Xiao Qi? You let her inscribe but not me?”

“Second Sister, you have already contributed paintings and inscriptions, while Ziqin has yet to showcase her talent, so of course I must invite Ziqin to inscribe,” Lin Yuejiao smiled faintly, inwardly thinking how thick-skinned Lin Qingxu was.

Lin Qingxu sneered sarcastically, “Do as you please. A perfect painting ruined by writing will only lose its value.”

“I think this handwriting is more beautiful than yours,” Wen Zeye said bluntly.

Lin Qingxu was stunned by Wen Zeye’s remark. Unable to offend him, she muttered, “You decadent son of privilege don’t even understand painting…”

“I agree, it’s very good,” came a calm voice from behind—Li Moqian.

Lin Yuejiao turned to find Rong Yu and Li Moqian had quietly joined them.

***

“You are Lin Ziqin?” Li Moqian looked at her and pointed to the inscription. “This running script resembles Lady Lan’s style but is different, forming its own unique character. Which calligraphy copybook did you imitate?”

Lin Ziqin bowed. “I am Lin Ziqin, seventh of the Lin family. I once did imitate Lady Lan’s style. While I admire her gentle grace, I felt it lacked a certain proud spirit, so I made slight personal modifications.”

“Not bad. You have the gentleness of Lan and the spirit of bamboo. Your calligraphy is self-fashioned and nearly mature, though there is room for improvement. If you don’t mind, I could offer some guidance,” Li Moqian’s passion for talent was stirred. He especially loved calligraphy and painting. Lin Ziqin’s style was distinctive but without a master’s guidance, difficult to perfect.

Lin Ziqin looked at him, utterly unprepared for such an honor, but Lin Yuejiao, seeing her hesitation, quickly bowed with her and said, “Thank you, Young Master Li, for your guidance. I shall trouble you to mentor my sister.”

“To help perfect a style is a pleasure,” Li Moqian replied amiably.

Lin Qingxu’s jealousy flared wildly at the scene.

Only then did Lin Ziqin begin to grasp the situation, both startled and delighted.

Rong Yu’s cool voice spoke, “Moqian, present the token.”

Li Moqian withdrew a carved ivory bamboo token of the Chaohuang Academy from his sleeve and handed it to Lin Ziqin. “Congratulations. You need not take the calligraphy test next time.”

The slender ivory bamboo token, about two fingers wide, was pale blue-white. The front bore the characters “Chaohuang,” and the back had a single character: “Advanced.”

Lin Ziqin was overwhelmed with joy. She looked at Lin Yuejiao but said sincerely, “This token should belong to Fourth Sister. My calligraphy cannot compare to her painting.”

“Haha, don’t worry. The heir had already prepared for this,” Li Moqian said with a smile.

Lin Yuejiao felt somewhat reassured.

Rong Yu then took out a carved ivory bamboo token from his bosom and placed it in Lin Yuejiao’s palm.

At that moment, everyone froze.

There were three tokens.

Lin Yuejiao was stunned—three tokens from Chaohuang Academy.

“Young Master, did you accidentally give too many?” Wen Zeye asked in surprise.

Lin Yuejiao paused, reflected briefly, seeming to share a tacit understanding with Rong Yu, and suddenly understood.

“The first token is for the Left-Hand Painting. The second for the Double-Sided Embroidery. The third for the Eighteen Points of Famous Pastries,” Lin Yuejiao looked at Rong Yu with bright eyes. “Is that right?”

Rong Yu’s lips curved, his narrow eyes settling on her face with satisfaction at her perceptiveness. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Fourth Miss has passed in painting, needlework, and culinary arts. Congratulations. You need not be tested in these three areas at the final exam,” Li Moqian said with a gentle smile, then jokingly added, “Fourth Miss, the heir eats too much. Not a single pastry was left for me.”

Rong Yu gave a threatening snort, and Li Moqian immediately fell silent.

Holding the three tokens in her palm, Lin Yuejiao could not help but feel a surge of happiness. She had never expected to receive three tokens so quickly.

Hearing Li Moqian's words, Lin Yuejiao glanced at Rong Yu, imagining his gluttonous side and smiled gently.

That smile blossomed like thousands of pear trees in full bloom, overshadowing the larks and swallows of the literary gathering—everyone else merely became her backdrop.

***

There is a beauty in the world whose charm captivates the city; her eyes full of longing, her smile a delicate grace—such is she.

Even Rong Yu’s gaze lingered on her face longer than usual before turning away.

Not to mention the others around who had been stunned for quite some time.

Lin Yuejiao looked at her with a half-smile. “Today, as we play music and paint, how can we not have some fine tea to accompany? My second sister’s tea artistry is unparalleled. Why not let her perform tea ceremony and brew a pot for everyone?”

Everyone felt a strange familiarity hearing this. Just now, Lin Qingxu had pressured Lin Yuejiao to paint; now the tables had turned, and it was her turn.

Before Lin Qingxu could refuse, Rong Yu’s cold voice interjected, “Approved.”

“But, Young Master, I…” Lin Qingxu’s face changed drastically.

Li Moqian had already commanded, “Bring the tea set up.”

Lin Qingxu wanted to object, but her reasons were impossible to voice—would she confess in front of so many that her backside was bruised and she could not sit?

Lin Yuejiao sensed the icy hatred in Lin Qingxu’s eyes but remained composed, unmoved.

Lin Qingxu brewed tea in the main hall, while other young ladies performed their talents.

By the time the fifth person played the zither, Lin Qingxu could no longer endure; trembling all over, the water was boiling, but one final step remained.

Trying to maintain her dignity, Lin Qingxu lifted the teapot to pour, but the pain in her backside was unbearable. She swayed and toppled, spilling a whole pot of boiling tea onto her legs, wailing in agony.

“Second Sister!” Lin Yuejiao and Lin Ziqin rushed forward. Lin Qingxu’s thighs were drenched, tea stains visible and steam rising.

Lin Yuejiao carried herself with poise, calmly saying, “Someone, fetch the doctor.”

Shang Lu was not sent by Rong Yu this time—after all, it was inappropriate for a man to examine a woman’s legs. Even if it were not her thighs, Rong Yu would not send someone.

“Ouch, ouch, it hurts so much…” Lin Qingxu’s thighs and backside throbbed painfully, her forehead beaded with sweat, her face pale, glaring at Lin Yuejiao with gritted teeth. “Lin Yuejiao, this is your doing. I won’t let you off…”

“What nonsense, Second Sister,” Lin Yuejiao smiled, then raised her voice to a nearby maid, “Yingtong, quickly help Second Sister change clothes and check her injury.”

Lin Qingxu looked at her radiant beauty but found it terrifying, like a demon from hell.

Si Tingshen, as the organizer, saw trouble again—this time involving the Lin family—and groaned, “What happened now?”

“Please have the Si household’s maids escort Second Sister to the backyard to change and summon a female physician to examine her injury,” Lin Yuejiao said. “Second Sister was accidentally scalded by hot tea.”

Si Tingshen waved his hand, and two maids immediately supported Lin Qingxu and took her to the backyard.