Chapter 5
The heat vanished from my face in an instant.
The entire city knew I had adored Cui Jiu. Everyone in the Duke of Cheng’s household must have known too. But His Majesty had granted this marriage, and the empress had arranged it. My dignity was hers. Out of respect for her, they would have pretended ignorance.
Now Cui Jiu had brazenly displayed it all, signing my personal name beside his on the painting. He might as well have torn the skin from my face in public.
“What did Cui Jiu say?”
“He said… he said the colors in the paintings he sent were all mixed by you. He couldn’t claim the credit, so he brought them as wedding gifts.”
The history of a young man and woman painting side by side was hardly something to discuss with outsiders. For a noble girl willingly to grind and mix his pigments like a servant was more humiliating still. Yet I had done every one of those foolish things. I could deny them, but who did not know the truth?
To bring such a “magnificent gift” on my wedding day—what a vicious mind Cui Jiu had.
But what exactly was he trying to achieve?
Of course.
When His Majesty had appointed my aunt empress despite all opposition, hadn’t the Cui family been among those opposing him?
Now that she occupied the highest position, they feared a reckoning. Naturally, they also feared the Xia family’s growing strength.
I had once seen nothing but Cui Jiu, nothing beyond a young girl’s love. He must have thought me terribly foolish, terribly easy to deceive.
What he did not know was that once a fool relinquishes her obsession and stops deceiving herself, the brain that ran away without notice tends to return on its own.
I sprang to my feet and swept out of the room.
A page beside the duke was holding up a blue-and-green landscape. Several senior court officials clustered around it, discussing the brushwork and colors, though mockery plainly gleamed in their eyes.
The duke’s face was livid, but he held himself together. Pei Qi stood silent with lowered eyes, oddly detached for the groom at his own wedding. Cui Jiu smiled provocatively.
I took two steps forward and waited until everyone noticed me before speaking.
“Ninth Young Master Cui’s reputation is indeed deserved. My contribution was so slight that I am ashamed to find my name included. I cannot accept such generosity.”
Cui Jiu smiled with polished warmth. “A contribution is a contribution, however small. Without you, there would have been no painting. You yourself taught me that, Sanniang.”
I sighed softly. “Your attainments are far beyond mine. Still, I dare not take credit I have not earned. Perhaps I might add a few strokes, so that my name belongs there. Would that be agreeable?”
His brows drew together for an instant. Narrowing his eyes, he studied me, seemingly trying to work out what I was planning.
Guo Youzhi, vice minister of rites, suddenly lifted the painting out of reach. “This work of Ninth Young Master Cui’s possesses extraordinary beauty and already shows the hand of a master. You intend to alter it at whim? To ruin it?”
I frowned a little and looked appealingly at Cui Jiu. “Do you also think a few strokes from me would spoil it?”
His expression stiffened, but he maintained his air of sunny generosity. “Of course not. I would be honored to receive your instruction.”
“Qiuying, bring brushes and ink. And azurite, malachite, cinnabar, and bright yellow.”
Qiuying went to fetch the supplies from my dowry. The duke nodded slightly, directing the servants to prepare a table.
I took the painting from Vice Minister Guo myself, spread it on the table, and asked Qiuying to grind the ink.
Then, loading my brush with dense ink, I began making sweeping changes. Each stroke seemed to cut a piece of flesh from Vice Minister Guo. He frowned, hissed in pain, and could scarcely bear to look. The other officials were less theatrical, but their faces also showed regret. Apparently they had decided I meant to destroy the painting to preserve my good name.
Yuwen Shuo, minister of personnel, tried to reason with him. “It is a day of celebration for the duke’s household. Why behave like this? It is only a painting. Surely the lady’s reputation matters more?”
Vice Minister Guo swept away without answering.
I heard every word but paid no heed, continuing with my brush. By now I had mixed my colors and begun adding them to the painting.
Once the ink had dried enough that holding it upright would not make the pigments run everywhere, I carefully raised the painting.
Qiuying helped unfurl it. We held an end each and displayed it to the guests. A chorus of sharp breaths followed.
Cui Jiu’s face was pale and sickly. He struggled to produce a smile. “The true… finishing touch. Your talent far exceeds mine, Sanniang. I am deeply ashamed.”
From the corner where he had turned his back, Vice Minister Guo looked around angrily, ready to scold Cui Jiu for having no backbone. Then he caught sight of the painting and stopped. He pushed through the crowd and examined it from end to end before suddenly clapping and laughing. “Ha! I have been petty-minded. You are a true master, my lady. I cannot compare! Just a few strokes of dense ink, and all that labored workmanship is gone. These radiant colors bring the sun rising in the east, dazzling the eyes, sweeping away every trace of weariness! Excellent! Excellent! Excellent!”
His abrupt change of allegiance nearly gave everyone whiplash. Minister Yuwen, who had just urged him not to blame me, opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Cui Jiu’s face went from green to greener at the words “labored workmanship.” Minister Yuwen coughed and drew Guo back a little.
Some guests objected that my colors were too rich and my strokes too broad. I had stripped away the painting’s austere, meditative mood, inherited from the Wei and Jin dynasties. Vice Minister Guo stamped his foot. “We live in this dynasty and should paint for this dynasty! With nations from every land paying homage to us, what is there to admire in empty philosophizing and lifeless contemplation?”
Seeing that Guo’s unguarded tongue was about to produce something as dangerous as “Do you all yearn for the previous dynasty?”, Minister Yuwen hurriedly caught his sleeve. “There is no need to dispute the painting’s beauty. We have all witnessed the lady’s talent. Today we have seen the newlyweds united in a lovely ceremony, and the bride’s gifts bringing glory to her new family. What a happy occasion! Shall we each add our calligraphy to commemorate it? Your Grace, what do you think?”
Pei Jian, Duke of Cheng, who had spent his life on horseback and knew nothing of painting or calligraphy, replied, “Excellent. Excellent.”
Ministers Yuwen and Guo began. Starting beside Cui Jiu’s signature, the officials signed their names in a circle around mine. I approached Pei Yao and tugged his sleeve. “Would you sign too, husband? Beside my name?”
He frowned slightly. Embarrassed, I released his sleeve and gestured toward the table.
He hesitated. “Perhaps I should spare everyone my clumsy handwriting?”
The duke slapped his enormous hand on the table and glared.
Pei Yao sighed and took the brush.
He did not even hold it quite correctly. His unfamiliarity made me nervous on his behalf. Yet once the brush touched the paper, his strokes had a force all their own: bold, sweeping, fierce, like a blade that would snap before it bent.
When he finished, the guests’ names surrounded ours like stars. Beside his powerful strokes was my name, which Cui Jiu had written in delicate, flowerlike small script. It nestled there like a little bird and, surprisingly, suited his perfectly.
Cui Jiu’s signature was directly above mine, but that was all. At a glance, no one could have told he was one of the artists. He had vanished into the crowd.
I offered him an insincere apology. The corners of his mouth twitched before he forced out a smile uglier than tears, stiffly agreeing with Minister Yuwen that “On this happy day, the newlyweds naturally come first.” His clenched fist never relaxed.
When the trouble was over, I finally breathed easier. Everyone resumed drinking, and I excused myself to wait on the bridal bed.
I never imagined I would sit there all night. My new husband, Pei Yao, did not come to my room before dawn.