Chapter 18: The Hundred Flowers Banquet (3)
Ji Cheng acquired new understanding - true refinement demanded implication rather than directness, requiring deliberate contemplation to grasp its essence.
She found herself longing for her days in Jin Province near the northern nomadic tribes, where social customs were more liberal and people more forthright, unburdened by such pretentious formalities.
Yet as the ancients taught, one cannot simultaneously grasp both fish and bear's paw.
Selecting a white camellia with green hues for her hair, Ji Cheng's usual minimalist style - today featuring only a jade comb - gained unexpected allure. The blossom's placement resembled sunlight piercing mountain mists to reveal fleeting rosy glows.
Su Yun's gaze lingered when it chanced upon Ji Cheng. Though accustomed to being hailed as peerless in beauty since childhood, she'd initially considered them evenly matched during their first meeting.
Now Su Yun confronted an undeniable truth - Ji Cheng had been deliberately understated. With proper adornment, she could embody the nation-toppling beauties from operatic tales.
But what value lay in mere physical charms? For women, beauty served only as decorative enhancement. Should one's essence remain coarse fabric, even the loveliest embroidery couldn't elevate it beyond patterned cloth.
Consider Li Hui - square-jawed and thick-lipped, objectively plain among their cohort. Yet when marriage prospects arose at twelve, matchmakers nearly shattered the Li family's threshold through constant visits. After meticulous selection, her betrothal was finalized at fifteen, though her father the Marquis insisted on keeping her until eighteen.
Ji Cheng shared Su Yun's perspective, though her own advantages seemed scarce. She consoled herself that possessing beauty still surpassed lacking it.
Regarding today's talent showcase, Ji Cheng remained undecided. While competent in poetry, she couldn't match Shen Yuan and Su Yun's mastery. Though initially content to play supporting role, recent realizations stirred restlessness - her circumstances permitted no prolonged obscurity.
To hide one's light presupposes possessing actual brilliance.
Ji Cheng's prior optimism now seemed naive. Despite Aunt Ji Lan's legendary marriage, times had changed. Newly arrived in the capital, she already felt the established nobility's deep-rooted disdain for outsiders.
Ji Lan's own precarious position after two decades offered no helpful precedent. The Ji family tradition of silent wealth accumulation - common among Shanxi merchants yet maintaining deliberate anonymity - meant their true financial standing (easily top-three in western Shanxi) remained veiled. This discretion had protected them from becoming targets, as the Zhu family incident demonstrated. Had Ji Lan not attracted attention in the capital, their obscurity might have persisted.
Accustomed to this philosophy since childhood, Ji Cheng found overt self-promotion uncomfortable. She understood too well the scrutiny and criticism accompanying prominence.
Yet she mocked her own concerns - with so many accomplished noble daughters, achieving distinction might prove impossible regardless of effort.
The Willow Leaf Hall stood partitioned by twelve sandalwood screens carved with grapevines and seasonal flowers from the matriarch's collection, their panels embroidered by Jiangnan's renowned Xue family. This lavish setup showcased the Shen family's deep-rooted sophistication, contrasting with the upstart Wang clan's newfound prominence through Imperial Consort Wang's son.
At her station, maids had prepared brushes, inkstones, and pigments ranging from cinnabar to malachite - every artist's necessity provided.
Surprisingly, latecomer Fourth Miss Wang also chose painting - the least immediately impressive discipline. While poetry could circulate and music resonate through halls, painting's time-consuming nature made creating masterpieces under time constraints improbable.
By the time calligraphy and music competitions concluded behind the screens, Ji Cheng's group still labored over their works. Wang Siniang finished first, leisurely sipping tea and critiquing Shen Yuan's poetry before Ji Cheng set down her brush.
Though termed a Hundred Flowers banquet, April's floral sovereign demanded peony depictions. Ji Cheng's painting drew gasps - two distant Zhao Fen pink blooms framed a central "Guanyin White" snow pagony variety, their vividness making spectators swear they breathed.
"Remarkable," Shen Yuan praised. "Your color application shines with jewel-like clarity, brushwork precise down to the butterflies and grasshoppers. You've trained for years?"
"Since childhood," Ji Cheng acknowledged, though recent progress stemmed from Madam Yu's tutelage.
Yet Wang Siniang's peonies commanded awe. Three blooms in purple, red, and white posed front-facing and profile, leaves rendered with such dimensional accuracy they seemed ready to rustle.
As guests wavered between both works, Wang Siniang smirked at their amateur critiques. Though Ji Cheng's technical skill lagged, Madam Yu had honed her discernment enough to recognize defeat.
"My work pales before Miss Wang's," Ji Cheng conceded. "Her swift execution reveals complete mastery. Three stems manifest peonies' regal magnificence and auspicious symbolism. The chiaroscuro treatment and precise foliage articulation demonstrate sophisticated yet unforced technique I cannot equal."
Wang Siniang's estimation rose marginally at Ji Cheng's perceptive praise, though nothing more.
With Ji Cheng's concession, painting honors went to Wang, though Ji Cheng's performance earned respect. In poetry, Su Yun triumphed on her debut, while Shen Quan's lackadaisical guqin training yielded middling results.
Post-competition, servants ushered guests to Hongliang Pavilion for feasting and drinking games. Ji Cheng answered challenges effortlessly, even Wang Siniang's deliberate provocations, silencing doubts about her merchant origins.
Post-lunch lethargy saw some depart while friends napped or strolled gardens. The energetic Wang sisters commandeered a pleasure boat on Jing Garden's expansive lake.
Though Ji Cheng fought drowsiness induced by sweet wine and gentle rocking, other girls fared worse, lulled by breezes into nodding serenity.
Her attempt at graceful napping shattered when a splash and scream echoed across the water. Without hesitation, Ji Cheng plunged in - childhood swimming lessons with Second Brother serving her well as she battled Qi Hua's panicked thrashing.
Reaching shore's flowering alcove required desperate effort. Qi Hua's flailing nearly drowned them both before Ji Cheng dragged her onto land, collapsing exhausted.
The sharp intake of breath above revealed Shen Yu and her cousin Shen Jing staring down. Ji Cheng's face blanched - no properly raised maiden could survive two men witnessing her drenched dishevelment.
The men stood paralyzed. Hearing cries earlier, they'd awaited female rescuers while standing guard. Witnessing Ji Cheng's perilous rescue attempt rooted them until escape became impossible.
Both silently cursed Shen Che's foresight - the reputed ladies' man had vanished at first splash, leaving them trapped by propriety.
Approaching footsteps spurred Ji Cheng's desperate plea: "Cousins, please depart!"
They vanished just as servants arrived. Though some glimpsed retreating silhouettes, none dared speak - maintaining the fiction of seeing nothing.
(End of Chapter)
