Chapter 15

 

Chapter 15: The Scent of Recognition

 

As expected, Lan Yunjin received the sachet from Wei Xiao.

It was a fairly common silk sachet, yet the design was unusual: twin lotuses sharing one stem. The color was pale as water, as if a single touch might wash it away. But the fabric and the needlework were of the finest quality.

There was no trace of lilac or jasmine in the sachet neither the fragrance nor the sharp notes of citrus peel or dried tangerine.

The room lay hushed. Momo Zhou had already retired for the night.

Under her guidance, Yuchan always finished her tasks before dark. Then, when her young master returned, she and Pipa would wait in the side chamber.

On the desk sat the silent tokens of Madam Zhang and Momo Zhou’s care: a bowl of medicine, gone cold.

Lan Yunjin placed the sachet carefully on her dressing table, then turned toward Wei Xiao. “Thank you, husband, for your thoughtfulness.”

She was a connoisseur of fragrance, her sense of smell keen and refined. In later years, with leisure and spare money, she had often spent them on flowers, trees, and rare collectibles.

This sachet was no great rarity. Whether Wei Xiao meant it as a test or a casual gift, it was still a gesture.

Lan Yunjin accepted it in good grace.

Wei Xiao sat upright. At his waist hung not a jade ornament or pendant, but a wine flask.

He disliked empty courtesies, and spoke plainly, “There are no lilacs in Chang’an. If I come across some another day, I’ll buy them for you.”

Lan Yunjin stepped to the desk and poured out the cold medicine.

“You are very considerate,” she answered softly.

Earlier that day she had bathed, asking Pipa to scatter peony petals into the tub.

At the end, Momo Zhou had rubbed her back with the soap pods Wei Xiao used.

The old woman had been delighted, saying that such intimacy was what a marriage ought to be; yours and mine are all the same and no division between us, that is what is true affection.

A faint, familiar soap-scent lingered, mingling with the heavy sweetness of flowers, threading into Wei Xiao’s nose. His hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitched. In that instant, he knew: this was his wife’s fragrance.

He raised his eyes. Her body was turned slightly away, still holding herself as if at a distance.

She wore her sleeping robe, her black hair twisted up loosely with a wooden pin.

Wei Xiao closed his hand. The scent pressed into him, filling his nose, seizing the chamber as if to claim it as hers.

Deep in his bones, he carried a fierce sense of possession. That soap-scent, that soap was his.

“Did you bathe with my soap pods?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lan Yunjin answered. “The momo forgot to tell the maids to purchase fresh supplies for Qionghua Court. She had no choice but to bring me yours.”

Wei Xiao showed no displeasure.

They had shared a bed for days now.

Even if she spoke little, even if she had never truly treated him as her husband, he had eyes and ears only for her.

On the battlefield, the marshal’s command was always the same: What you see is truth. What you hear is nothing.

What sort of woman was this Lady Lan? Wei Xiao could not yet say.

His gaze rested on her. “And? Do you find it suits you?”

Each day, the maids aired out the bedding in the courtyard. He had taken note: Lady Lan kept her garments, her underclothes, even her shoes and stockings sorted in separate cabinets.

Not like him. His mother always scolded that he was only pretending at cleanliness.

His robes and belts would be neatly stacked one day, and then tangled together the next.

And because he never allowed his mother’s maids into his quarters, she had long since taken to saying his bed was fit only for a dog’s den.

Lan Yunjin laughed lightly. “It’s only for washing. How could I not get used to it?”

Wei Xiao unclasped the wine flask at his waist and opened it.

He drank swiftly, his neck tilted back, the wine sliding down his throat.

Did she share his soap by accident or intentionally?

…

The female tutor was due at the General’s Mansion, and Madam Zhang placed great importance on the occasion.

Lan Yunjin had nearly washed and dressed alongside Wei Xiao that morning.

After breakfast, he went to his martial practice.

Lan Yunjin ordered Pipa to bring her elder sister two plates of meat buns, and then took Yuchan with her to the study.

Her sister had said Du Zhen was always punctual, so Yunjin arrived a quarter-hour early.

Madam Zhang had considered personally receiving Du Zhen at the gate. After all, if one was inviting a tutor, then one must demonstrate the utmost respect.

But Lan Yunjin persuaded her otherwise: it was enough to have Steward Wu wait at the entrance.

Madam Zhang listened to her daughter-in-law and sat for a while in the study instead, repeating her instructions to the little girls: they must not let the tutor be disappointed, nor bring shame to their aunt.

Wei Jun nodded dutifully, promising to behave herself.

Madam Zhang was satisfied. She smiled. “If you do well, when lessons are done I’ll have your uncle take you to the stables to choose a clever young foal. You may ride it outside the mansion.”

Wei Jun squealed with joy and threw her arms wide, nearly toppling into her grandmother’s lap.

“Grandmother’s word is as good as gold!”

In the General’s Mansion, the sons were all trained in riding and archery. From an early age, the boys practiced martial forms and horse stances. When older, their grandfather taught them sword and spear, and riding was of course indispensable.

But the old madam never wanted her granddaughters to study martial skills.

Military men always stood a step below civil officials. The boys learned the martial arts to uphold the Wei family’s honor and maintain their standing in Chang’an.

But for the girls, martial training was hardship. The old madam doted on them and tried every way to coax them toward books instead.

Yet genes always overpower. When the old general and Master Wei trained the boys, Wei Jun and her sisters would sneak peeks from the side.

The girls, even without instruction, had already picked up a fair share of kicks and punches just from watching their brothers.

Xue Yan spoke sharply, “Jun-niang, mind your manners. Sit properly and stop flinging yourself about.”

Wei Jun stuck out her tongue, and then turned to Madam Zhang with a coaxing smile. “Grandmother, Aunt has been teaching us calligraphy these past few days. Shouldn’t you reward her with a little foal too?”

She thought a moment, and then added mischievously, “Mother wants to teach Aunt to ride, doesn’t she? I don’t need the smartest foal anymore—give it to Aunt instead.”

The subject of horseback riding made Lan Yunjin uneasy.

She smiled gently but declined. “Jun-niang, the foal is yours. Your aunt cannot accept it.”

Just then, a maidservant arrived, bringing Du Zhen into the study.

Du Zhen was plainly dressed, about the same age as Lan Yunjin. She had once taught the daughters of noble families in Luoyang, where her poetry and essays became widely admired thus her reputation was made.

Since arriving in Chang’an half a year ago, many officials’ wives had offered her rich rewards to tutor their daughters, but Du Zhen had politely refused them all. That she had agreed to come to the General’s Mansion was such a triumph that Xue Yan could hardly keep from wanting to hire a troupe of actors to celebrate.

Du Zhen made a simple curtsey to Madam Zhang, then immediately set down the rules for her pupils.

With Lan Yunjin’s prior instruction, Wei Jun curbed some of her mischief and sat up with proper composure.

The girls did not disappoint. After two full hours, Du Zhen praised Wei Jun’s quick mind and San-niang’s lively spirit both responded with clarity after only a little guidance.

Seeing things so well in hand, Xue Yan finally breathed easy. She laid a reassuring hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder.

Meanwhile, Guiyuan accompanied Lan Yunying to the old madam’s chambers to present a formal gift.

Since she had entered her sister’s husband’s household in her stead, every courtesy had to be observed.

And as Pei Ye’s wife, she represented the Duke’s Mansion itself. Before leaving, her natal family had prepared suitable gifts.

First, to show that the Lan family supported her; second, because the marriage bound the Duke’s Mansion and the General’s Mansion together, and close relations demanded generosity.

To eat and live under another’s roof, yet not even give stipends to the servants, would invite their ridicule the moment one left and worse, how would the sisters-in-law of the household look upon her?

Lan Yunying presented the old madam with a painting of “Pines and Cranes for Long Life” and a pair of jadeite bangles.

The old lady beamed, her joy uncontainable. The gift had touched her very heart.

In past years, the masters of the household had sent her birthday offerings of gold, silver, or carnelian rings and trinkets of little taste.

She had found them vulgar and left them buried at the bottom of her chests. At her age, what was the point of wearing such gaudy things? Who would look twice?

At that very time, Wenbo, following Pei Ye’s instructions, went to Qionghua Court to invite Wei Xiao.

But Wei Xiao was not there. The maids reported that their young master had gone with Second Master Wei to the back courtyard to practice archery at the ranges.

New to the mansion, Wenbo had found his way from the eastern wing to Qionghua Court only by asking servants for directions.

He could not trouble the maids further, so he returned to the inner quarters alone.

Pei Ye was still in his chamber, studying the handwriting samples.

He smoothed out the Xuan paper. When he saw that Wenbo had return alone, he asked, “Is the General busy right now?”

Wenbo shut the door firmly. With the Madam and Guiyuan still absent, he took his chance to speak. His master’s obsession was growing dangerous.

“My young master, the General is occupied and cannot come,” Wenbo said. For the first time, he lied to his master. His steps heavy, he went to the desk and added, “This servant should not overstep, but since you have already married Lady Yunjin, and we came to Chang’an for the Spring Banquet, I fear you will lose your propriety if this continues—”

He glanced at the darkening window. The courtyard outside was empty.

This was not a matter to be spoken of openly. He gripped his sleeve, his voice pressed low, “I beg you, my young master please treasure the present moment. Do not let a private fixation wound others.”

Pei Ye silently gathered up the paper. Then he said, “And if she is not Yunjin?”

Wenbo choked on his words, then forced himself to speak. “And if she is not? Then, my young master, you will wound her all the more.”

Since the wedding, his master had been cold to Lady Yunjin, and now had sunk into suspicion, doubting everything.

He claimed her words and conduct sometimes resembled her elder sister’s.

Wenbo could only shake his head. He too, at times, had been struck by that illusion. But illusion was illusion, how could one take it as truth?

Pei Ye rose from his seat. “If she is not, then tell me how should I treat her?”

Wenbo stared in dismay. His master’s neck was stiff, his face close to breaking.

“My young master…” Wenbo sighed, stricken. “Why torment yourself like this? Whether she is or not, you cannot go on this way.”

But Pei Ye heard none of it. In a rush of anger, his fist pressed hard against the desk. “Wenbo, if she is Yunying, should I feign ignorance? Or should I draw close, questioning her in confusion?”

“I must know the truth. I must.”

His shoulders shook. His breathing grew ragged, as though he were drowning, unable to surface.

Panicked, Wenbo rummaged for the medicine chest. “Young master, you mustn’t agitate yourself!”

“It was foolish talk,” he muttered, unwilling to crush his master’s hope. “I will take you to the back courtyard to find the General.”

---

In the bamboo grove.

 

Lan Yunying had just left the old madam’s chambers and was on her way back to Qionghua Court.

Crossing the covered walkway, she happened to walk into Wei Xiao.

“Brother-in-law.”

The memory of his last question still made her uneasy. She stepped aside, inviting him to pass first.

Wei Xiao acknowledged her with a neutral sound.

That faint citrus fragrance about her had weakened.

He halted mid-step, turned—just as she too looked back at him.

Their gazes met. Lan Yunying’s lips curved into a faint smile.

“Does brother-in-law need something?”

Wei Xiao did not answer.

His brows were drawn, his eyes honest as steel. In that, she differed from her sister.

Her younger sister’s eyes were calm, her smile pure. She seemed almost exactly the way the records described—Lan Yunying of the Lan family.

Yet after intimacy with his wife, Wei Xiao believed her true nature was not what appeared on the surface.

With Lady Lan, he could maintain composure, but he could not say she returned his regard.

Between the betrothal documents of Lan Yunying and the betrothal documents of Lan Yunjin, he almost wished to read the latter.

“Going to see your sister?” Wei Xiao asked.

Lan Yunying nodded, forcing herself not to shrink from his searching gaze.

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