The splendor of the Red Chamber, the power that reigns supreme.

Chapter 154 The Thoughts of the Daughters, and the Turmoil in the Imperial Court
As a widow who adhered to proper etiquette, she shouldn't have praised such descriptions of intimate moments and marital bliss, but the universal human experience contained in the word "ordinary" stirred her heart.

I felt a mix of envy, longing, and shyness!
It was like an iron claw, gripping her heart and soul so tightly that she had no choice but to scream!

Tan Chun's heart pounded wildly as she listened, and an inexplicable heat surged in her lower abdomen. She forced herself to sit upright, but her fingertips dug hard into her palms to keep herself from losing her composure.

The delicate, refined manners she usually took pride in were shattered by the vivid and evocative descriptions in these poems.

She cleared her throat, but her voice still had a barely perceptible hoarseness, as if something was choking her.

"Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! Sister Bao! Who wrote this poem? The first line, describing the desolate scenery, already shows the skill of the author, while the second line, narrating the events and expressing emotions, is a stroke of genius! The four sets of actions—'serving medicine,' 'warming the skin,' 'massaging,' and 'smelling the fragrance'—are progressively more vivid, bringing to life the meticulous care and uncontrollable love!"

As she spoke, she couldn't hide the amazement and emotion in her eyes.

She thought to herself, "This layer upon layer vividly portrays the warmth and devotion of a lover when serving his mistress, the desire to give his heart and soul, and... the wanton thoughts of using excuses to rub against each other and steal kisses. It's as if I were watching from the bedside!"

Tan Chun took a deep breath, suppressing the agitation in her heart, and said, "The cruelest thing is the last line, 'At the time, I thought it was just an ordinary thing'! Seven simple words, but they are like a heavy hammer, smashing all the warm and tender moments in the bed described earlier into ice shards with a 'bang'!"

"This is true murder without bloodshed! Excellent! What a masterful feint! What a profound and subtle sorrow! I... am impressed!"

She said "I'm convinced," but the amazement and tingling sensation in her eyes, the heart of a young girl in love, could not be hidden.

Xiangyun, who had been completely absorbed in the story, finally snapped out of her daze and jumped up excitedly, clapping her hands and laughing, "Oh my! Sister Bao! Your words are truly... truly speak to the heart! 'Massaging and gently smelling the fragrance of a maiden'! My goodness! It's so embarrassing! Tsk tsk tsk!"

Her face flushed slightly, revealing a hint of coquettishness and frankness. "Although it's a private conversation between young ladies, it's written so openly and affectionately! The most brilliant part is the last sentence! Isn't it?"

"People don't realize how good they have it until they lose it! Everyone understands this principle, but how come these seven words make one's heart tremble? Excellent! Absolutely excellent! A hundred times better than those who just pile up fancy words!"

Xichun was still young and had little understanding of love between men and women. She was completely clueless and could only nod.

Yingchun nodded, a rare occurrence for her, and whispered, "It's sincere and touching."

Although Wang Xifeng was usually quick-witted and outspoken, she was deeply moved by the description of the couple's relationship in the poem. She thought of herself and Jia Lian, who had once enjoyed the sweet bliss of newlywed bliss, but now slept in separate rooms.

Forget about the intimacy depicted in those poems; all that remained between the couple was scheming and arguing.

The phrase "at the time, I thought it was just an ordinary thing" pierced her heart like a needle.

The usual smile faded from her face. She half-covered her face with a round fan, and let out a rare sigh, her voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible melancholy.

"Bao'er's choice of words... is thoughtful. And 'massage' and 'fragrance'... are also genuine, intimate words between husband and wife. And that last sentence..."

A mocking smile tugged at the corner of her lips, whether she was laughing at others or at herself, "That last word 'ordinary'... is like a bone-scraping awl! It pierces to the bone! Sigh..." This "sigh" surprisingly revealed a hint of resigned defeat.

Qin Keqing's sickly body trembled violently, as if her spine had been branded by a red-hot iron! The words "serving medicine" inexplicably dragged her back to that room in Qinghe County, which was filled with the strong smell of medicine, yet also mixed with the smell of men!
And right under the Buddha statue in the Guanyin Temple, the man's scalding breath was blowing into the crook of her neck, desperately inhaling the "female fragrance" tinged with sweat on her body! At that time, she only felt extremely ashamed and wished she could crawl into a crack in the ground... Now, the words had triggered her feelings, and it was like a bottle of strong liquor, suddenly burning in her lower abdomen!
The woman lying there, being fed medicine, seemed to have become herself! The "massage" and "fragrance" described in the words... all became vivid images, imbued with her own body heat and shame!

She felt even her toes curl up in shame, and a voice inside her screamed and cursed herself: "Qin Keqing! You filthy slut! You're so sick you're barely clinging to life, already a widow, and you're still thinking about these sordid things! You're truly... truly a born... born licentious!"

Thinking of this, Keqing shook her head frantically, trying to shake the man who made her feel wanton away.

Lin Daiyu, standing in the distance, was stunned for a moment. Despite her pride and unparalleled talent, she was still deeply moved by the profound emotions and life lessons contained in the poem.

The details of "serving medicine and soup" and "massaging and smelling fragrance" depict the earthly warmth that she had never experienced but perhaps secretly longed for in her heart.

Seeing her mother pass away, while her father, who should have been by her side serving medicine and soup, was busy with official duties, the phrase "at the time, I thought it was just an ordinary thing" struck her like a clarion call, reminding her of her own life as a dependent and the early death of her mother.

Her heart was in turmoil, a myriad of emotions welling up inside her. The tenderness of her parents beside her, which she had taken for granted at the time, left her speechless. She could only stare blankly at Baochai.

For the first time, her cool eyes showed envy for this Miss Bao. Why, why wasn't it me who got this poem? Why, why did she get it? And who wrote this poem?

Jia Baoyu listened with rapt attention, completely captivated, though he was also deeply moved by the emotions expressed in the poem.

However, seeing Baochai receive praise, Daiyu was moved, and all the sisters were captivated and full of admiration, their own competitive spirit and fear of being outdone couldn't be suppressed. Unconsciously, a hint of sourness and affectation crept into their mouths as they muttered:

"It is good, of course, but... the language is too straightforward and explicit, losing its subtlety and elegance, and instead appears a bit too contrived."

As Lin Daiyu's heart was churning with emotion, the line "At the time, I thought it was just an ordinary thing" in the poem pierced her lonely and troubled heart like an ice pick, bringing out endless sorrow for her past and fear for the future.

Hearing Baoyu's nonsensical and uninformed comments, a nameless anger suddenly flared up, burning her heart and lungs with pain.

She suddenly turned her face, her two gazes, as cold as stars and as sharp as lightning, fixed directly on Baoyu's face, a mocking sneer curling at the corner of her lips:

"Hmph! What 'refined elegance'! What 'craftsmanship'! I never knew that Master Bao had cultivated such a profound eye for appreciating poetry?"

Her voice was clear yet piercing: "That poem just now was about a man's longing and deep regret! You, a rich and idle person who lives a life of luxury, with both parents alive and well, and who only knows how to wallow in the company of women, do you know what 'at the time, I thought it was just an ordinary thing' means? Do you know what 'life and death are uncertain' and 'memory is filled with regret' means?"

Her speech quickened, her sharp tongue becoming increasingly piercing. She unleashed all the bitterness, self-pity, disappointment, and resentment she had harbored towards Baoyu for his lack of understanding of human emotions, transforming it all into a barrage of words:

"Since you find it 'straightforward' and 'artificial,' it's clear you look down on it. Why not show your true talent? Pick up your pen and compose another poem, regardless of the poetic form, specifically about the heart-wrenching longing of a woman confined to her chambers!"

"If one cannot write such heartfelt, soul-stirring sentences that break the heart of the reader—"

She slightly raised her chin, her eyes filled with icy contempt and a sense of rejection. "You'd better shut your precious mouth and go talk those 'refined and elegant' private words with your Xiren and Sheyue. Stop spouting nonsense about other people's hard work and you'll only annoy people!"

Baoyu was so stifled by these barbed and incisive words that his face turned purple, veins throbbed on his forehead, and his throat bobbed up and down. It was as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word. He felt utterly wronged and ashamed, wishing he could immediately turn into a wisp of smoke and disappear.

Li Wan, watching from the side, hurriedly tried to smooth things over, and sighed softly, "Such heartfelt words... My father once said that since Scholar Su passed away, it has been difficult to find such exquisite music in the world."

She turned to Baochai, her tone gentle yet expectant: "Bao'er, didn't you just say there was another poem in the same style? Why don't you bring it out as well, so everyone can enjoy it together?"

Everyone was still immersed in the lingering charm of the previous poem and Li Wan's sentiments when they heard this, and they all echoed it, their eyes turning eagerly to Baochai.

Xue Baochai remained composed, but her gaze, seemingly carrying a deeper meaning, swept over Daiyu's pale face. She said gently, "Indeed. Just now, Sister Lin mentioned a woman's longing for her lover; this other verse is precisely in the tone of a woman yearning for her lover in her boudoir." She paused slightly, then, her clear voice like a jade chime, slowly recited:
How can one find peace on a night with knocks on the window?

The solitary lamp illuminates the shadow and creates coldness.

A thousand worries are locked between her brows, and countless strands of sorrow are entwined on her fingers.

The ink is exhausted, the tears are hard to dry, I want to write a letter but I have to delete it again.

My longing for you has been relentless, so how could I possibly have time to curse you!

As soon as Xue Baochai's clear and melodious recitation ceased, the courtyard fell into an eerie silence, as if a ladle of boiling oil had been poured into a snowdrift.

Unlike the previous poem, which bombarded readers with the bitterness of life and the grand principles of the universe, leaving them trembling with shock, this poem, "Partridge Sky," is like the delicate needlework of a skilled embroiderer, deliberately probing the tenderest parts of a woman's heart.

What a worry, "How can I sleep peacefully with the knocking on the window?" I tossed and turned, crumpling the blankets and quilts.

"A solitary lamp casts a cold shadow," clearly resembling a lonely ghost, guarding a desolate body;
The lines "A thousand worries are locked between the brows, ten thousand strands of sorrow are entwined on the fingers" vividly depict a heart full of sorrow, as if those sorrowful strands were truly wrapped around the delicate fingers, impossible to untangle.

The last line is absolutely brilliant—"I've been longing for you non-stop, so how could I have time to curse you!" That entanglement of love and resentment, that feeling of being so busy that one can't even spare a moment to curse, is like an invisible goose feather, soft and ticklish, gently teasing the tenderest part of a girl's heart.

For a moment, the courtyard was so quiet that only the faint breathing and the rustling of silk fabrics could be heard. The young ladies all lowered their heads, their cheeks flushed, and their eyes, like startled little fish, darted around nervously.

Some had their handkerchiefs twisted so tightly that their fingertips turned white; others had their fair faces half-covered by their light red sleeves, revealing only their pointed chins; still others had their ears completely red and their cheeks burning hot.

Although this phrase doesn't contain grand principles or display great spirit like the previous ones, it vividly exposes the delicate feelings in a young woman's heart—a mixture of sweetness and bitterness, resentment and pity, and shyness to speak of them to others—and lays them out under the sun.

Such spring poems don't seem like something a lady from a respectable family would say; they sound more like the words of a courtesan. If they were sung, they would probably be a first-rate love song.

The sound made one's heart pound, one's chest feel hot, and one's face burn with embarrassment; one couldn't sit still or stand still.

The novel vividly portrays the delicate, bittersweet, and tender feelings of a young woman, feelings that are difficult for outsiders to understand. It is so moving that it makes the listener's heart tremble and their face flush. For a moment, no one dares to speak first.

After a long silence, Shi Xiangyun finally broke the silence, unable to bear the embarrassing silence any longer: "Sister Bao, these poems are truly...heart-stirring! Tell me quickly, who is the master who wrote these two poems? How could they depict the thoughts of us young ladies so vividly? Even our most precious little ones are depicted so lively."

Before she could finish speaking, everyone snapped out of their bashful reverie and bombarded her with questions: "Yes, Sister Bao, who exactly is this talented scholar?" "Could he also be some reclusive scholar of noble birth?"

Seeing everyone's eagerness, Xue Baochai smiled slowly and said, "It's quite a coincidence. This man is not a Hanlin scholar, but a wealthy man from Qinghe County, in the eastern suburbs of the capital. His surname is Ximen, and his given name is Qing. He is known as Master Ximen."

"Master Ximen?!" As soon as the name was uttered, several suppressed gasps rippled through the warm pavilion.

Lin Daiyu's heart skipped a beat, as if someone had suddenly bumped into her heart with something soft: Master Ximen? It was him? Was it the same person?
The image of Ximen Da Guanren immediately flashed before my eyes.

We had only been apart for a short time, and I thought he was just a devoted and upright man who was deeply in love with his deceased wife. I never expected that he would have such exquisite talent hidden in his heart! Even such verses describing the tender feelings and unspoken sorrows of a young woman could flow from his hands!

A vague sense of annoyance mixed with regret crept into Daiyu's heart like a little insect: If only she had known he had such a brilliant literary mind, wouldn't it have been much easier to ask him for a few poems to ponder and enjoy?

This way, she wouldn't be easily outshone by Baochai today! Her eyes flickered slightly as she secretly pondered: Fortunately, she could still stay with Madam Lin for a few days. Then, she could find an excuse, softly beg, to ask her for a few poems... and then present them to Baochai and the others...

Qin Keqing's heart also fluttered slightly. A complex and unfathomable light flashed across her usually affectionate and charming eyes: Master Ximen... he actually has such a romantic and refined heart?

Was the tender, poignant language he wrote about himself? His deceased wife? Or... something else entirely? A subtle, slightly bittersweet curiosity, like a spring vine, quietly crept into her heart—during all the time she spent with him, she had never thought to inquire about his family background, his past, or his hidden feelings...

Only Wang Xifeng, standing to the side, slightly furrowed her two finely drawn willow-leaf eyebrows that flew into her temples: It was actually written by him?

She has always been impatient with these pretentious and sentimental pronouncements; the intricate nuances in those poems are nothing more than stale tea to her—bland and tasteless.

At this moment, she was thinking about something completely different: Master Ximen? That name had been lingering in her mind these past few days.

Fengjie subconsciously raised her jade wrist adorned with a red-gold bracelet, gently rubbing her throbbing temples, and then kneading her already stiff shoulders and neck, inwardly spitting:
Who cares about his poetry and lyrics? Can they feed him or make him money? What's most important is his massage skills! These past few days have been exhausting, my head is throbbing like it's bound by iron rings, and my shoulders and neck are as stiff as rocks. If I could invite him over and have his skillful hands massage and rub my muscles and bones, I would feel completely relaxed. That would be a true blessing!

"It's a pity that when I went to Qinghe County last time, it coincided with Rong-ge'er's passing."

In an instant, the beautiful women in the inner quarters of the Jia family felt as if they had been branded with a hot iron. The words "Ximen Qing" and "Master Ximen" were etched straight into their hearts, impossible to forget. They had no time to appreciate the moon anymore.

Each person had their own plans and calculations in their heart, but on the surface they acted as if nothing was wrong. With their heads lowered and their eyes darting around, their thoughts had long since flown off to who-knows-where.

In this deep mansion, how can there be no secrets? Those two poems, every word and phrase, were tender and poignant, yet also direct and explicit, as if hooked, and were overheard by several sharp-eared maids waiting outside the curtain.

The girls were too embarrassed to discuss it further, but these young girls, when they started gossiping in private, had no such scruples.

These romantic and elegant words, paired with the title "Master Ximen," were like cold water dripping into a boiling oil pot. Through the embellishment and word-of-mouth of these maids and servants, they seemed to grow wings and fly out of the high walls and deep courtyards of the Rong and Ning mansions, heading straight for the streets, teahouses, taverns, brothels, and dark alleys.

These two poems, along with the title "Master Ximen," truly caused a great uproar throughout the city, even sparking a dispute among several beautiful courtesans and dancers in the capital, including Li Shishi, over the title of "Master Ximen," becoming the most intriguing "romantic case" in the capital.

That's a story for another time.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, the young ladies, their hearts stirred by the tender words, harbored their own secret thoughts, though their faces were only flushed with a thin layer of shyness.

Outside the garden, in the reception hall, a completely different scene unfolded.

Lin Ruhai and Jia Zheng, these two old friends, took their seats as host and guest, respectively. The fragrant tea had just been served, and after only a few words of pleasantries, the conversation quickly turned to the unpredictable political situation in the imperial court.

"Sigh—!" Lin Ruhai sighed before speaking. This long sigh seemed to be squeezed out from his internal organs, carrying a heavy, turbid air that made the fragrance of orchids and osmanthus in the flower hall even more turbid.

"Chaos!!!" He put down his teacup, the blue-and-white porcelain bottom tapping softly on the small rosewood table, revealing his inner turmoil: "The court these days is truly a mess!"

Lin Ruhai picked up the cup of tea that had long since gone cold, took a sip, and felt a bitter taste in his mouth, as if he were swallowing the turbid world.

A mocking smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his voice low but each word carrying a heavy chill.

“Speaking of the root of this trouble,” Lin Ruhai’s eyes flashed with a hint of reminiscence and a deeper sarcasm, “we have to go back to that stubborn prime minister during the Xining era. With a heart full of enthusiasm for ‘enriching the country and strengthening the army,’ he saw the Song Dynasty as a sick man suffering from a hundred diseases and walking with difficulty, so he prescribed a strong medicine—the ‘New Laws’! The Green Sprouts Act, the Exemption from Corvée Labor Act, the Baojia System, the Market Regulation Act… one after another.”

"This marked the beginning of the struggle between the new and old parties. The new party wanted to reform, while the old party wanted to maintain the status quo. Although both had their own agendas, they at least had a fig leaf to cover their tracks and were fighting for the 'reason'."

Lin Ruhai sighed again:

"As we all know, the fierce struggle between the old and new parties has now been resolved. The monument to the Yuanyou Party members has been erected! On the surface, it appears that the new party has won a great victory. Those old party officials who believed that 'ancestral laws cannot be changed' have either died, been demoted, or exiled. Looking around the court, it seems that all you see are faces eager to 'reform'."

His tone abruptly shifted, his sarcasm intensifying, his eyes sharp as knives, as if trying to pierce the surface calm: "But look at this world, this court, has it become any clearer as a result? Not at all! On the contrary, it's more than ten times more chaotic than in those years of open warfare and clear-cut divisions!"

Jia Zheng stroked his beard, his brows furrowing even more, and nodded in deep agreement, letting out a muffled "hmm."

Lin Ruhai leaned forward slightly, and the turbid smell mixed with the scent of ink and ginseng approached again: "Why? It's because the root of that factional strife has not only not been eradicated, but has rotted even deeper and become even more poisonous!"

"In the early days, the New Party and the Old Party at least had the guise of 'serving the country and the people,' and their banners were quite clear. If you wanted to reform, I would stick to the old ways. Although we fought to the death, with swords drawn and shadows flashing in the open, it was easy to tell who was friend and who was foe at a glance. It was actually quite straightforward!"

"Now look at us! The 'factional strife' on the surface is gone, but all those dirty schemes, backstabbing, and framing have sunk to the bottom! On the surface, everyone is all 'loyal to the emperor and devoted to the country' and 'working together in harmony,' but what about behind the scenes? They are all using the name of 'factional strife' to carry out their own backstabbing!"

"Regardless of your party affiliation, if you stand in his way, get in his way, or take away his benefits, he can immediately label you a 'remnant of the old party'! Those memorials and impeachments are like poisoned arrows, shooting out from some hidden corner at any time, impossible to defend against!"

"That's not all!" A deeper worry flashed in Lin Ruhai's eyes. "Now, there are even more and dirtier things mixed in with this murky water!"

"Although the position of Crown Prince has been decided, it has been delayed for a long time. The Emperor treats the Crown Prince coldly, but he dotes on the Prince of Yun, who is skilled in poetry and painting and proficient in music and chess. This is common knowledge!"

"The Emperor kept referring to Prince Yun as 'my substitute,' and not only did he rise to the throne so quickly, but he also became Grand Commandant and was about to be appointed Grand Tutor."

"These two princes each have powerful backers. They are lining up, betting on each other, and secretly colluding. This merit of 'supporting' them is more likely to make someone rise to the top in one step than any 'new law' or 'old system,' but it can also lead to their utter ruin!"

"Not only that, the struggle between the civil and military officials has intensified. How could the noble families and military clans be happy to see the New Party in power and the civil officials gaining strength? They hindered and undermined each other, and even important military and national affairs became bargaining chips for power struggles!"

He sneered, "Where are the 'political views' and 'ideals' in this court these days? It's all about naked self-interest!"

Lin Ruhai slumped back, staring blankly at the intricate carvings on the coffered ceiling of the flower hall: "It's a mess, a mess like a pot of overcooked offal soup! You're in me, and I'm in you, friend and foe are indistinguishable, loyalty and treachery are hard to tell!"

"Don't be fooled by the fact that Cai, Liang, He, and Tong seem to be sticking together. They all want to take the next step and knock Cai down."

"Those of us caught in the middle are walking on thin ice. If we are not careful, we will be crushed to pieces, and even our bone fragments will be chewed up and swallowed! This situation is a hundred times more dangerous than the open and brutal factional struggles."

(End of this chapter)