Page 58 of Silk and Sensibility

Grand­mother Jiang steadied her with a surprisingly firm grip. She said something like an order for Madame Cai to stay upstairs with Ailin while she excused Meilin. “Please don’t mind my grandniece. She often struggles with motion sickness. Go on with your activities.”

Meilin managed to make her way to the lower level of the boat with Grand­mother Jiang’s help. The old lady was stronger than she looked. Or maybe Meilin was lighter than she thought. She really didn’t know anymore.

The sunlight on the lake was blinding, and Meilin’s head throbbed. Everything around her felt upside down. There was no way the man betrothed to Miss Gao could be the same Wei Luobi that Meilin loved. She reached for the jade tiger pendant hidden under her shirt.

“Can you try to hold it in until we reach shore?” Grand­mother Jiang asked so loudly that it hurt Meilin’s ears. Surely everyone on the boat could hear her voice too.

Several ladies scooted away as if afraid that Meilin would get sick in front of them.

Grand­mother Jiang made Meilin lean over the railing at the stern of the boat and proceeded to rub her back.

“Breathe deeply,” the old lady said as loudly as before.

“I’m not nauseous,” Meilin nearly shouted back, but raising her voice increased her dizziness. When she looked out over the lake, she couldn’t tell if the blurs of color were willows on the shore or magnolias on a causeway. The cacophony of voices on the boat felt as deafening as a murder of crows, and Meilin struggled to tune out the noise.

Grand­mother Jiang continued rubbing Meilin’s back. She lowered her voice as she leaned into Meilin’s ear. “Being nauseated is better than starting a fight with Miss Gao. Her father is the magistrate who has been giving our family a hard time.”

Meilin wrinkled her nose. Even when Grand­mother Jiang was quiet, her speech was frustrating. “What does that have to do with me? Why did she claim to be betrothed to Wei Luobi?”

“Can you really not guess, dear? Or are you stubborn?” Grand­mother Jiang’s tone was striking. The jovial old matriarch had never spoken so sternly to Meilin before.

“I’m not being stubborn,” Meilin stammered. “We knew Master Wei so well. He ate dinner at your house at least once a week. How can he suddenly be engaged to this Miss Gao without telling any of us?”

Grand­mother Jiang shushed her. “I don’t know the exact situation, but we can’t afford to make a scene right now. I was able to remove you from the situation by exaggerating your motion sickness. Please don’t contradict me in public.”

Meilin wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. As bile turned in her gut, she genuinely became sick to her stomach. Her throat ached from retching and the bitter taste of betrayal.

水紋珍簟思悠悠，千里佳期一夕休。

從此無心愛良夜，任他明月下西樓。

Even surrounded by luxury,

the best times can end in an instant.

I now have no heart to love the night,

no matter where the moon sets in the west.

—Poem by Lǐ Yì, Tang dynasty, transcribed by Fan Enze

Chapter 23

Ailin

Despite Grand­mother Jiang’s best efforts, Meilin’s outburst attracted attention. Even separated by a boat deck, Ailin could hear the muffled sound of Meilin arguing with Grand­mother Jiang before becoming audibly ill. The ladies who had been watching Ailin paint were now darting glances downstairs while whispering amongst themselves.

This was bad. While Ailin sympathized with her sister’s pain, she had to draw the ladies’ attention back to her. If Miss Gao’s betrothal to Wei Luobi was true, then she couldn’t let anyone know about Meilin’s feelings for him. Meilin had no standing in Hangzhou, and her reputation was as vulnerable as a sheet of rice paper in water.

“Your portrait is finished, Miss Gao,” Ailin announced as she stood up. Taking careful steps, she brought the still-drying painting toward the seated lady. Her movements drew notice. That was good. The more eyes on her, the less on her sister. She hoped it would provide Meilin enough space to recover her composure.

Miss Gao took the paper from Ailin and assessed the painting from top to bottom.

Ailin awaited judgment, more worried about Miss Gao’s emotional state than the quality of her painting. She had used graceful lines to sketch out the contours of Miss Gao’s figure, an elegant arch for her nose, and delicate brushstrokes for her cherry lips. The portrait was flawless, but who knew how the lady might respond after Meilin had raised such a commotion?

“It’s all right, I guess.” Miss Gao turned to her friends. “What do you all think?”

The compliments on the painting and Miss Gao’s beauty flowed, giving Ailin a reprieve to look at her chaperone, Madame Cai. The woman smiled and patted her gently on the back. Ailin sighed in relief at having avoided conflict. Meilin’s grief would have to be dealt with once they returned home.