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

Chapter 68 Baochai's Thoughts

Hearing Xiangling's sweet, delicate voice.

"Hmm!" Ximen Qing snorted through his nose: "I'll say a sentence and you write it down. Hmm, first go to the side and make a rough draft. Once you're sure it's correct, then copy it down. Let me see if you, a young lady from a scholarly family, have any spirit in your handwriting. By the way, write it more boldly, with wide and expansive strokes. Don't let people think my handwriting looks like a woman's."

"Yes," Xiangling replied. Although her face was burning, she was no longer so nervous. She held her breath, tried to concentrate, and placed the tip of the wolf-hair brush precisely on the snow-white Xuan paper. With her wrist suspended in the air, she tried her best to steady the slight tremor. Relying on the remaining skills she had acquired over the years, she began to write carefully, stroke by stroke.

After revising and rewriting two drafts, the entire manuscript was finished. Master Ximen picked it up and nodded with satisfaction: "Not bad, the handwriting is neat. From now on, you will be my pen holder."

Xiangling first let out a small breath. In just this short time, her inner shirt was already soaked with fragrant sweat. She had finally lived up to her new master's expectations. Then she was stunned. Why did these words sound so shy?

Xue Pan was waiting outside on the veranda, already itching with anxiety, like an ant on a hot pan. He kept stamping his feet and craning his neck to peer inside. Finally, he heard the curtain inside rustle, and Master Ximen strolled out, holding a tightly sealed letter and a small medicine bottle in his hand.

"Uncle Ximen!" Xue Pan forced a fawning smile and rushed over, his eyes glued to Ximen Qing's hand. "My good brother! I've finally... I've been waiting for this! The things... could you give them to your little brother?"

Ximen Qing raised an eyelid and thrust the object forward. Xue Pan was overjoyed, his eyebrows and eyes crinkling together. He grinned widely and reached out with his large, fan-like hand to grab it, exclaiming, "Oh my! Thank you so much, Uncle! Thank you so much, my dear brother! You are a great benefactor to the Xue family! A living Buddha! I'll..."

But no sooner had his fingertips touched the medicine than Ximen Qing flicked his wrist and snatched it back!
"Huh? Brother... this..." Xue Pan's smile froze, his outstretched hand hovered in mid-air, looking bewildered and anxious.

Ximen Qing's casual expression vanished instantly, replaced by an unprecedentedly cold and stern look. His gaze, like icicles, pierced Xue Pan's eyes, clouded by wine and women. He lowered his voice, each word carrying a chill. He knew the Tibetan monk had ill intentions and didn't want to bear the consequences of others' actions.
"Listen carefully! This 'good stuff' is precious, but it's also a deadly 'death warrant'!" He snorted heavily. "If you're greedy and take too much, even a celestial being couldn't save you! Remember this to your very core: each time—only half a pill! Dissolve it in warm water and drink it down your throat! Also, this stuff is malevolent and precious, so it absolutely cannot fall into the hands of anyone else!"

"Oh, my dear brother! My dear father! You can rest assured!" Xue Pan's legs trembled at his imposing manner, and he almost knelt down. He hurriedly patted his chest, pointed to the sky and swore an oath, spitting everywhere: "May I be struck by lightning! May my tongue rot! May I die a horrible death! If I, Xue Pan, dare to use even a single penny more than necessary, or give it to someone I shouldn't, may I fall into the river and be fed to turtles as soon as I step out the door! May I choke to death while eating! May I be crushed to death by the roof beam while sleeping!! May I be suffocated by those big-breasted beauties!"

Seeing the vicious curses he was being hurled, Ximen Qing's icy expression softened slightly, and he grunted a soft "hmm" through his nose. Only then did he slowly stuff the things back into Xue Pan's arms.

"My dear brother, I'm leaving first. Once I've established myself in the capital and made a name for myself as the 'Red Powder Instructor,' I'll definitely come to fetch you in a grand sedan chair. Then we brothers will have a duel with spears and clubs atop the Forbidden City." Xue Pan, as if he had received a divine decree, pressed the medicine bottle tightly against his chest as if it were his lifeblood, and scrambled out of the Ximen residence.

Xiang Ling'er watched as her former master ran out without even glancing at her.

My heart finally settled down.

The little girl hid behind Ximen Da Guanren's back, not daring to breathe too loudly. Her heart was pounding, and an indescribable feeling welled up inside her.

Good heavens! In that letter, it seems the master and Miss Bao have feelings for each other?
Besides, is her master some kind of literary genius reincarnated? How many brilliant articles must be hidden in his belly? Compared to her former master, Master Xue, who was just a good-for-nothing who only knew how to fight cocks and dogs and recite "a mosquito buzzing" nonsense, they are truly worlds apart!
"Heavens...Heavens have finally opened their eyes!" Xiangling buried her burning face in her cool palms, silently crying out in her heart, filled with the ecstatic joy of surviving a calamity and humble gratitude. "They actually pulled this poor soul out of the fire pit and threw her into this honey pot! They gave her such...such...such a caring master!"

Xiangling felt her bones lighten, as if the years of bitterness and fear had been soothed by the official's calm back and the boundless talent revealed in the letter.

Her life was like that of a drifting duckweed!

After years of wandering, it seemed as if she had finally reached a solid shore, where flowers, fragrant with ink, bloomed—flowers she had never dared to dream of.

After leaving Ximen Mansion, Xue Pan spurred his horse and rode quickly to the county government office.

The group of guards sent by my uncle were already waiting at the gate, leading horses and carrying sedan chairs. The luggage was piled up on the caravan and tied up securely.

Xue Pan dismounted and rushed to the sedan chair.

"Good sister! Bao sister! The things are here! Your brother has brought them for you!" Xue Pan grinned and rushed to Baochai, carefully taking out the letter from his pocket and handing it over like a treasure. "It's a letter he wrote himself!"

"This is... for me?"

Xue Baochai sat in the sedan chair, clutching the thin envelope, her fingertips trembling slightly. When she opened the envelope, Ximen Qing's handwriting on the letter was strong and clear, carrying a free and easy strength rarely seen in merchants.

Her heart was pounding like a drum, making her eardrums ring. It was the first time in her life she had ever written a letter to a man, and the first time she had ever received a letter from a man.

She was clearly the only person in the sedan chair, and the twilight filtering through the window curtains carried the chill of autumn.

But an indescribable heat suddenly surged from her heart, instantly burning her cheeks red, and even her usually fair and jade-like earlobes and slender and beautiful neck were tinged with a thin, alluring blush. This shame came so overwhelmingly that she subconsciously brought her legs together.

She forced herself to calm down, but her gaze seemed glued to the letter, reading it word by word. The more she read, the faster her heart pounded, and the shorter her breath became.
Ask yourself, have you ever felt that being carefree is actually a joyful thing?
If that's the case, why confine yourself to this cage woven from gold thread?

You were born with wings that could soar to the heavens, yet you choose to fold them up in the face of the wind...

When considering the Xue family's needs and well-being, did you ever ask yourself: which heaven do you truly yearn to soar to?
Your poems say, "Cherish your beauty, keep the door closed during the day," but you don't know that true beauty should not be locked away in a deep courtyard with heavy doors...

If one were to push open the door and take a step out, one would realize how vast the world is, and that it can accommodate a Xue Baochai who doesn't need to be considerate in every aspect or perfect in every way, but simply wants to be herself.

It might even create a unique and elegant atmosphere, like "the rouge washing away the autumn steps."

Every word in the letter struck her heart like a hammer blow. The line, "Just be yourself, Xue Baochai," in particular, deeply moved her, sending a surge of indescribable bitterness and secret longing through her, almost bursting from her throat!

He... he could actually see through her? He saw through the exhaustion beneath her "cherished beauty," and the repression behind her meticulousness?
Her gaze quickly swept to the poem attached at the end of the letter. With just one glance, Xue Baochai was struck dumb, frozen on the spot!

(End of this chapter)