Chapter Thirty-Eight: Settling Matters

At this moment, Lu Ying, chilled by the ways of men, truly cared little for her maidenly reputation. It mattered not if she could not marry; she had ceased to mind. Thus, having spoken earnestly, she saw the shrew spit out her muddy phlegm and prepare to launch another tirade. Lu Ying calmly drew two more lumps of mud from her basket and hurled them with a sharp “smack” at the woman’s face, commanding decisively, “Silence!”

Struck again, the shrew nearly broke into tears. She collapsed onto the ground, ready to wail, but as soon as she began, the mud smeared on her cheeks trickled into her mouth. She had no choice but to wipe her face clean with her sleeve.

Peace descended once more.

Lu Ying lowered her gaze to the two maidservants behind the shrew. “Is this not all because, as Ayun left school, that man surnamed Zeng exchanged a few words with me? Why must A Yin be so furious?” As she spoke, something seemed to occur to her, and she smiled, coldly mocking, “Ah, yes, I forgot. A woman who secured marriage by any means, fair or foul, can never possess the composure of ordinary folk. Her nerves are naturally frayed, ever on guard.” She waved her hand as if shooing flies. “She fears I might turn back and snatch her precious Mr. Zeng, doesn’t she? Go tell A Yin I have not the slightest interest in that Zeng fellow. Hmph, a man who thinks of making his wife a concubine—only she would treasure such a cold heart.”

With a pause, she fixed the two maidservants with a sincere gaze and said, “Honestly, sending this shrew to hurl insults at me was not the wisest move. Why not simply come with others to search my chambers and accuse me of stealing your mistress’s jewelry?”

Her advice was so genuine, so thoughtfully offered, that the two maids stared blankly, exchanged glances, and thought: Did you suppose we wouldn’t want to? But who knows where you’ve hidden those jewels? And besides, you spend so freely—whatever those wealthy households give you is gone in mere hours. We’re afraid the mistress’s jewelry has long been disposed of.

Of course, such thoughts remained unspoken.

While the maids were still exchanging uneasy looks, Lu Ying, perched atop the wall, frowned slightly and spoke gently, “Sitting up here is rather uncomfortable. Will you continue your insults? If not, I’ll come down.”

She addressed these words directly to the shrew, staring at her intently. The shrew’s face alternated between pale and flushed, her eyes fixed on Lu Ying’s basket, still half-filled with mud, unable to utter a word.

Lu Ying waited a moment. Seeing the shrew fall silent, she nodded. “You’ve stopped? It seems we’ve reached an accord.” Her self-assured declaration prompted another wave of low laughter from the crowd. Yin Che’s lips twitched, and he turned aside to suppress a smile.

With their “agreement” in place, Lu Ying decided she could descend. But before leaving, she felt obliged to say a few words for form’s sake.

So she addressed the three maids, raising her voice with grave sincerity: “Go back and tell Ping Yin that, yes, her jewelry was spent by me days ago. And let me remind her—though I, Lu Ying, am not wealthy, I keep my word. She may marry Mr. Zeng with an easy heart; I promise I will never, ever reconsider him.”

She brushed off her hands and, gripping the wall, began to slide down.

As Lu Ying disappeared from sight, someone among the crowd led the way, and laughter erupted all around. Amidst the laughter and whispered comments, Ping’s three maidservants blushed scarlet, and after a brief struggle, fled with their heads down.

When the crowd had dispersed, Yin Che remained. He looked up at the garden wall, his eyes bright with mirth. After a while, he turned away, opened the door, and entered his courtyard.

His family’s courtyard was more than five times larger than that of Lu Ying and her brother. Walking through the little garden, Yin Che, whose lips were usually pressed tight and whose face showed no expression, now wore an unprecedented, radiant smile.

As he walked, he overheard several maidservants chatting. “That Lu Ying is truly amusing.”

“Yes, perhaps she’s not quite proper, but her boldness is delightful.”

“She really is daring.”

“They say women from Shu are spicy; it seems true.”

...

Even upon returning to his room, the smile had not faded from Yin Che’s face. Seeing him thus, his aunt—dressed in finery and hurriedly ushered in by the maids—felt a fresh unrest in her heart. She approached Yin Che and murmured reproachfully, “Che’er, that Lu girl is nothing but a shrew. How can you find amusement in her?”

Yin Che turned, smiling at his aunt, and answered softly, “She is wonderful. I like her very much.”

Such lawlessness—hurling mud, scaling walls—how could that wild girl be wonderful, let alone likable? The elegantly dressed young woman nearly jumped in outrage.

Meanwhile, disregarding the gossip swirling through the neighboring courtyard, Lu Ying, having washed her hands, resumed her work and mused: Would Ping Yin believe what she’d said? Ah, likely not. It seemed she would need to find a way to deal with those jewels, lest Ping Yin keep them in mind.

She understood that Ping Yin’s tactic of inviting a shrew to insult her was, in fact, a clever move. Were it any common girl, such abuse would have left her weeping inconsolably. Those girls, ever mindful of their reputation, would not dare retort, fearing they’d be looked down upon. Unable to fight back, they would only cry; if pushed to the brink, they’d resort to suicide. How absurd! Clearly it was others who wronged them, yet they’d punish themselves, hurting their own kin. How foolish!

Lu Ying had never been one to accept blows without return. Though Ping Yin had gained nothing from her scheme, Lu Ying was still angered.

She sat before the hearth, frowning as she pondered methods of revenge.

Beside her, Lu Yun read his book, occasionally glancing at his sister. Remembering the mud she had thrown, he felt a smile tug at his lips.

After a while, he softly exclaimed, “Sister, will today’s incident harm you?”

Lu Ying looked up at him, gave a careless “perhaps, perhaps not.”

“Sister! If it affects your reputation, what will you do?”

“I’ll simply do as I please.” Her voice was lazy, tinged with coolness. “Do you really think, Yun, that your sister could still find a good match in Hanyang?”

“But...but...”

“No buts,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I am fine as I am. Yun, focus on your studies; I’ll handle everything.”

“...Alright.”