Chapter 39: A Good Wind Lends Its Strength
Luo Suwei's silence lasted all the way home. She silently greeted her father-in-law and mother-in-law upon her return. It was not yet late, and they were still awake. Seeing her taciturn appearance, her mother-in-law grew irritated and said coldly, "All you know is to go out and play all day. If you put more thought into your husband, he wouldn't be running outside all the time."
She lowered her head and answered in the affirmative, still silent. Her father-in-law, as if he had heard nothing, tended to a potted plant on his own. Seeing her as dull as a clay doll, her mother-in-law also found it boring. She had been disappointed that Luo Suwei wasn't living up to her potential, but now she felt there was a reason her eldest son disliked her. Unwilling to speak with her further, she waved her hand, dismissing her.
Luo Suwei bowed formally before backing out, leaving the voices of her in-laws behind her.
"Look at how dull she is. No wonder our eldest is always running off."
"Oh, come now. The lady of the house is dignified and virtuous, and an excellent manager. Don't be too harsh on her."
"If this continues and their marriage remains discordant, it will become a problem."
"That's enough. They still appear to be in harmony when out in public. Don't overthink it. Let's just wait and see."
She returned to her own courtyard. Her personal attendant came forward to help her remove her cloak. She asked, "Where is my husband?"
The attendant hesitated for a moment before saying, "The master has not yet returned home."
"Where did he go?"
"…He was meeting a few friends. I believe they went to Xiaoyin Pavilion…" The attendant did not dare to look at her.
Luo Suwei acknowledged this with a sound of understanding. Her husband had a fondness for beautiful women. The ones in his own home were not enough; he often spent the night outside. She had long grown accustomed to it.
Upon entering the room, her young daughter's eyes lit up when she saw her return. The girl rushed over, calling out, "A'niang, A'niang."
Luo Suwei's entire being softened. She shed the decorum she wore outside and the silence she maintained at home, embracing the sweet-smelling, soft little child in her arms, savoring this brief moment of relaxation.
The child's tender hand gently caressed her cheek and asked perceptively, "Is A'niang unhappy?"
She shook her head and smiled. "It's nothing. A'niang is just a little tired."
She changed her clothes and gently coaxed her daughter to sleep. She sat by the child's bedside, gazing at her sleeping face, her heart filled with immense tenderness. Yet, she couldn't help but recall her mother-in-law's private words to her.
"A'wei, it's not that I'm rushing you, but in this inner household, you must have a son to rely on. The legitimate eldest son is different. You must work harder, don't let our son's heart be swayed by those outside…"
Her own mother had told her the same thing, that only with a son would her position be secure, and her future days could be lived with more ease.
She sneered inwardly. Is this something I can achieve by myself?
She watched for a while longer before returning to her own room. Lying flat on the bed, she found it impossible to sleep. Song Wan's face, tinged with faint anger, kept flashing through her mind.
Song Wan looked too much like her older sister. Every time she saw her, she felt a little disoriented.
A'qiong, are you scolding me? But what can I do? I can only put myself inside this shell of gentleness and virtue, pretend not to hear or see. Only then can I live my days in peace.
She and Song Qiong had been friends since childhood. They too had once dreamed of achieving top honors in the examinations or roaming the world with a sword. But everything came to an abrupt halt at the age of eighteen when their families arranged their respective marriages. That youthful spirit was tucked away along with their pinned-up hair. From then on, they were simply the new wives of other families. After their marriages, they saw each other less, and every time they met, they could see a hint of melancholy in the other's eyes.
She began to treat those youthful days as a dream. The rules of the great houses slowly ground her down into the shape they required. She was a new wife, a wife, a mother, but she was no longer Luo Suwei.
Until one day, she saw the bruises on Song Qiong's body. She was shocked and saddened, but deep down, there was a tiny sliver of relief. See, I'm still better off than you.
When she came to her senses, she was astonished by her own baseness. She was using her companion's pain to seek her own comfort. She couldn't help but avoid interacting with Song Qiong. She despised that vile part of herself and thus chose to escape.
She had not thought of Song Qiong for a long time. Fang Jian's final words echoed in her ears: "So you've already decided you can't get out?"
How can I get out? Since I can't, isn't it better to pretend I never saw the possibility? Wouldn't my heart hurt less then?
A few days later, Chen Qingshang sent an invitation to Fang Jian, requesting her presence at the Feipeng Poetry Society to offer some guidance. Fang Jian readily agreed and went openly.
Once inside with the door closed, only Chen Qingshang and Song Wan remained. Song Wan said to Fang Jian, "My lord, this is our place. We can speak freely here. Thank you for condescending to come."
"It's no trouble." Fang Jian waved her hand. Not rushing to the main topic, she first asked, "Feipeng, why is it called Feipeng?"
Chen Qingshang smiled. "The public explanation is that at our first poetry gathering, the subject we wrote about was this very 'peng' grass."
"Oh? Then is the inner meaning 'A tumbleweed leaves its roots, drifting with the long wind'1?"
As if recalling something happy, Chen Qingshang's lips curved into a smile as she replied spiritedly, "My lord, it should be 'A good wind lends its strength, to send me to the blue clouds'2."
"Excellent!" Fang Jian clapped her hands and laughed heartily. "An excellent 'A good wind lends its strength.' Did you choose the name?"
Both Chen Qingshang and Song Wan paused. Chen Qingshang gave a wry smile. "No, it was a very talented but ill-fated lady. She has already passed away…"
Fang Jian said with regret, "A pity, for such great talent."
Chen Qingshang closed her eyes, concealing the emotion within them. When she opened them again, all the pain had been swallowed down.
Fang Jian then asked, "Is the Qiulan Poetry Society at odds with you?"
"To be frank, my lord, we established this Feipeng Poetry Society to have a public name. The members we recruit are all rebellious ladies like us, unwilling to accept mediocrity. Under the guise of a poetry society, we are actually rebelling against our own families. The Qiulan society, on the other hand, is a genuine poetry society for boudoir games. We have some rivalry, but I wouldn't say we are at odds," Chen Qingshang replied.
"But at the banquet that day, it seemed you had some conflict?"
Song Wan cupped her hands. "In truth, I cannot stand their self-degrading ways. They have clearly studied diligently, yet they have no ambition and only think of living a life of leisure, supported by their parents at home and their husbands after marriage. They live a life of wealth and privilege, but are like caged birds."
Chen Qingshang said with a hint of helplessness, "A'wan is still young and somewhat biased. They have been taught this way since childhood, so what choice do they have?"
"It would be fine if they could truly be at ease for a lifetime, but what kind of lives do they lead? Their parents see them as commodities, their husbands as ornaments, their in-laws demand they bear children. But they are people! How can they so calmly accept a life like an object? Can't they see themselves as people?" As Song Wan spoke, tears shimmered in her eyes.
"A'wan!" Chen Qingshang's tone grew heavy as she chided her. "That's enough. You should go outside for now."
Knowing she had lost her composure, Song Wan obediently withdrew and stood guard at the door.
Chen Qingshang apologized to Fang Jian. "Please forgive her, my lord. A'wan was just moved by the scene. Her older sister was such a tragic person. She too once wanted to fight against this fate, but in the end, she died silently in the inner quarters." Her voice trembled slightly.
Fang Jian waved her hand to show it was no matter, then guessed, "Song Wan's sister was the one who named the Feipeng Poetry Society, wasn't she?"
"Yes."
"And she was the one who said, 'A good wind lends its strength,' correct?"
"Yes."
"What was her name?"
"Song Qiong."
Chen Qingshang had thought herself long since indestructible, but Fang Jian's sharp perception still made her eyes redden. You see, even though you are gone, someone still sees your light, wants to know your name, and laments not being able to meet you. If only you were still here, how wonderful it would be.
Fang Jian waited patiently for her to compose herself. After a moment, she asked, "That Lady Luo should be the daughter of the head of the Luo family? Does she have some friction with you?"
"The sixth lady of the Luo family, married to a son of the Ye family's main branch." Chen Qingshang smiled wryly again. "It's not really friction. She was A'qiong's friend, and in the exact same situation. A'qiong chose to fight with all her might; the sixth lady chose to bury her head in the sand. After A'qiong's death, she became even more conservative. I suspect she knows what we're doing, but thankfully hasn't exposed us. When A'wan sees her, she's reminded of A'qiong and can't control her tongue."
"I see." Fang Jian understood. No wonder Luo Suwei's poetry always had a subtle sense of contradiction. She probably didn't know herself whether she had resigned to her fate or not. She said, "Feipeng is the most tenacious grass. It can take root wherever it lands, and it can adapt to its environment to grow in a way that better ensures its survival. By naming it Feipeng, she wasn't just referring to you spirited ladies, but also to those who, despite having accepted their fate, still strive to live better lives, wouldn't you say?"
Chen Qingshang's heart jolted. Song Qiong had only ever told her this deeper meaning. Even her own sister, A'wan, hadn't understood it. Yet Fang Jian, a complete stranger, had captured it.
Fang Jian put down her teacup, her expression turning serious. "Alright, let's talk business. My wind has arrived. How do you plan to rise?"
Author's Notes
- From Cao Zhi's Miscellaneous Poems, No. 2.
- From Dream of the Red Chamber, from the willow catkin poem written by Xue Baochai.
- 翁婆 (Wēngpó): The term 公婆 (gōngpó) for 'parents-in-law' feels very modern, so I used 阿翁阿婆 (ā wēng ā pó) instead. I'm not sure if it's appropriate, but that's the meaning I was going for.
- There's a new CP here, guess who?
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