Chapter Twenty-Nine: My Heart

Red Cotton hurried back from the front yard to Yang Xueruo’s private residence, her delicate face marked by a complicated expression. As the personal maid of the eldest young lady of the Yang family, Red Cotton naturally had her own unique sources of information within the household—she had learned from the steward, Yang Kuan, that Zhou An, the second-generation head of the Yi Xing Zhou clan, had personally visited the manor, bringing an astonishingly lavish gift that would leave everyone in Jiangning County speechless, and once again proposed marriage to the Yang family.

This made Red Cotton realize that her mistress’s feelings for Kong Sheng would likely come to nothing—no matter how liberal the customs, no matter how deeply Yang Qi cherished his daughter, the matter of Yang Xueruo’s marriage was not something she could decide for herself.

The Yi Xing Zhou clan was a powerful aristocratic family in the south, with deep roots and influence. If they were determined to form an alliance with the Yangs, Kong Sheng would stand no chance. Compared to the strength of a noble house and the substantial benefits at their fingertips, the so-called scholar Kong Sheng was, in truth, worth nothing.

It was said that Yang Qi had not immediately agreed, but neither had he openly refused.

All the senior servants in the Yang household, including Red Cotton herself, were convinced that the Yangs would consent to this marriage sooner or later—especially after Red Cotton had personally witnessed the mountain of gifts filling an entire courtyard, strengthening her conviction.

Yang Xueruo was bent over her desk, writing swiftly, her expression serious yet joyful. Since last night, she had begun to transcribe every poem or song Kong Sheng had composed: from “Moored at Qinhuai,” “Spring Hope,” “Song of Everlasting Regret,” “Crimson Rivers,” to the recent “Seven Lines on Tea” and “Song of Seven Bowls.”

For the past month, Kong Sheng had appeared publicly at two social events in the city, and every poem he presented had been a masterpiece, celebrated and acclaimed, spreading throughout the city and beyond to the south and even across the land.

Red Cotton approached noiselessly, standing beside Yang Xueruo without disturbing her pleasant mood.

Yang Xueruo paid no heed to Red Cotton’s return, but instead directed two other maids to hang her finished calligraphy one by one around her small flower hall. Only then did she sit down, glance at Red Cotton, and speak softly, “Red Cotton, I hear the people from Yi Xing Zhou have come again?”

Red Cotton replied in a low voice, “Yes, miss, Zhou An, Zhou Chang’s father, came in person and brought a lavish gift. The chief steward said it’s worth over a hundred thousand coins. The household is still counting the items.”

Yang Xueruo uttered an “oh,” her expression tranquil as ever. “A generous gift always comes with an ulterior motive. I suppose he’s come to propose marriage to my father?”

Unable to hold back, Red Cotton sighed quietly, “Miss, I heard the master hasn’t opposed it… Miss—”

Yang Xueruo smiled gently, “Red Cotton, do you think my father will agree to this marriage and betroth me to Zhou Chang?”

Red Cotton’s lips twitched; she thought to herself, Miss, it’s not just me who thinks so—everyone does! With such a vast dowry offered by the Zhou clan, who wouldn’t be tempted?

She lowered her head.

Yang Xueruo rose slowly, her smile fading, her voice growing a little ethereal, “Red Cotton, your worry isn’t misplaced. Times change, and Father may ultimately consent to the Zhou clan’s proposal, for what they can offer us far exceeds anything Kong Sheng could. However talented Kong Sheng may be, he is but a fallen scholar, and the so-called friendship between the Yang and Kong families can be swept away like dust.”

“In truth, even without the presence of Yi Xing Zhou and Zhou Chang, Father might never have truly intended to marry me to Kong Sheng. In the past, Kong Sheng was notorious for his dissipation, and Father, having second thoughts, was still mindful of the Yang family’s reputation, unwilling to bear the scorn of the world. Thus, he forced Kong Sheng to publicly dissolve the engagement. Who could have anticipated Kong Sheng’s stunning debut at the poetry gathering at Wangjiang Pavilion, leaving me, Father, and the entire Yang family embarrassed and ashamed…”

“I misjudged Kong Sheng; Father did too. When Kong Sheng’s talent outshone Zhou Chang and all the other young scholars, Father, pressed by circumstances, publicly renewed his promise to reinstate the engagement. Partly to preserve the Yang family’s honor, and partly, was it not also a subtle warning to the Zhou clan?”

“Kong Sheng stands alone, with no power or backing. Even if Father admires his talent, he would never place him high in his esteem. Zhou Chang may lack Kong Sheng’s brilliance, but he is supported by the entire Yi Xing Zhou clan, wielding a force that makes Father’s heart waver. That is the crux of the matter.”

“Red Cotton, you do not understand. Even if Kong Sheng had displayed his extraordinary talent from the outset, Father would appreciate him, might recommend him to the court; if there were no better options, perhaps he would honor the engagement and let me marry Kong Sheng. But since a better option has appeared, he may well abandon Kong Sheng.”

Red Cotton could not conceive of such deep matters; she was but a girl of fifteen or sixteen, limited in experience. Hearing Yang Xueruo’s words, she couldn’t help but ask softly, “Miss, since you know the master won’t let you marry the Kong family’s young man, why do you still…”

Red Cotton’s words were somewhat childish, but often, simple questions pierce straight to the heart of the matter.

Yang Xueruo raised her elegant brows, turned with grace, and did not answer Red Cotton directly. Instead, she gazed up at the walls of the flower hall, where her own delicate calligraphy of Kong Sheng’s poems hung.

After a long silence, Yang Xueruo finally spoke softly, “Red Cotton, there are many things in this world beyond our control. I once disliked and resented Kong Sheng for his dissipated ways, deeply influenced by Father and the opinions of society. But now, the brilliance of Kong Sheng’s talent moves me, yet I cannot—and dare not—defy Father’s authority. If he commands me to marry Zhou Chang, how could I disobey?”

“But I cannot deny my own heart. My heart tells me where my future happiness lies. I recite Kong Sheng’s poems day after day, each time feeling something different. The entire city is moved by his peerless talent, yet what truly moves me is his ambition and resolve—”

“Fury rises, cap set askew, leaning on the rail as the rain clears. Raising my eyes, a long cry toward the heavens, my spirit fierce and bold. Fame and fortune as dust, eight thousand miles of cloud and moon. Let not the years pass idly, whitening hair in vain sorrow. The shame of Chang’an remains, yet unshed. The resentment of a servant—when will it end? Drive the chariot, break through Helan Pass. Hungry, feast on the flesh of the enemy; thirsty, drink the blood of traitors. From the beginning, restore the old land, ascend to the imperial court.”

Yang Xueruo pointed to the piece of calligraphy, her delicate face radiant with spirit, reciting the lines, her voice trembling with emotion, “Here we are, nestled in a quiet corner of the south, yet the young man of the Kong family carries the fate of the nation in his heart. Such lofty ambition—this song alone shames tens of thousands of soldiers and civilians in the south!”

“Red Cotton, I love Kong Sheng, I think of him, I yearn for him, and I do not hesitate to declare my feelings openly, because I believe, given time, he will soar to the heights. We women cannot achieve earth-shaking feats, but if I could marry such a hero, watching him ascend step by step to the pinnacle of the world, I would share in his glory, and my life would be without regret.”

Red Cotton’s mouth hung open, unable to utter a single word. It was the first time Yang Xueruo had revealed her heart so openly; though her mistress’s face was familiar, she suddenly seemed wholly unfamiliar.

Yet in her heart, Red Cotton felt a measure of disapproval. Yang Xueruo was indeed the daughter of the Yang family, of the highest status, but when it came to marriage—especially when her marriage concerned the family’s interests—without Yang Qi’s consent, all hopes were but wishful thinking.

“Miss…” Red Cotton wanted to offer advice, but did not know how.

Yang Xueruo gave a bitter smile, her tone again tinged with desolation and melancholy—within the span of a single cup of tea, her mood had shifted dramatically. “Red Cotton, you need not say anything. I understand. If Father insists I marry Zhou Chang, I will obey. But as long as I have not wed into the Zhou clan, there remains a sliver of hope for me and Kong Sheng. For this sliver of hope, I will strive, do all I can, and leave the rest to fate.”

“Red Cotton, take this letter for me. I want Kong Sheng to know where my heart lies. No matter what happens in the future, whatever the outcome, I will never regret it.”