Chapter Two (Conquering Lin Daiyu for the First Time?)

Looking up, he saw before him a young man of refined features, wearing a brocade hat and draped in a fox-fur cloak. Yet, the contorted expression on his face at this moment did little to uphold the bearing of an aristocratic gentleman. His pale, delicate appearance held a faint sense of familiarity, and with such a frail, effeminate air about him, he was in no way a threat. Shi Yi suppressed a quiet laugh and released his grip.

Jia Lian’s expression soon returned to normal, and he let out a long breath of relief, rubbing his reddened hand repeatedly. Sweat had broken out along his temples from the fright, and he drew a handkerchief from his waist to dab it away. Only then did he turn and take a seat at the wine table, half laughing, half complaining, “Yi, where have you been this past month? Your strength has grown; I was nearly scared out of my wits just now.” Shaking his head with a wry smile, he rubbed his wrist again.

Shi Yi simply smiled, his eyes narrowing, and said nothing. He continued to study the young man before him: those alluring, peach-blossom eyes, the tall, jade-like figure, and the face that seemed carved from alabaster. It suddenly struck him—a familiar name from his past life—Jia Lian! The elegant, rakish young master from the House of Rongguo, husband to the famed beauty and notorious charmer, Wang Xifeng, known in the household as “Second Master Lian.”

Jia Lian was the eldest son of Jia She of the Rongguo line, renowned for his grace and charm. In his memories of this new life, his original self often visited the Jia household; he rarely found common ground with Jia Baoyu, but with Jia Lian, he actually got along quite well. They would frequently carouse together, and by all accounts, shared a cordial friendship.

Remembering the man’s identity, Shi Yi quickly changed his demeanor, laughed heartily, and cupped his hands in apology. “Second Brother Lian, I acted rashly just now and may have offended you. Please forgive me!”

Sensing the sincerity in his tone, Jia Lian waved a dismissive hand. “No harm done. We’re brothers, after all. Come, let’s continue drinking!” With that, he picked up the wine pot and poured a cup for Shi Yi himself.

Shi Yi accepted without protest, and the two downed their cups of hot wine in unison, the warmth spreading through their bodies. Picking up his chopsticks, Shi Yi nibbled on a fried peanut, then glanced at Jia Lian with a hint of curiosity. “Second Brother Lian, why are you out here at the docks braving the cold northwest wind instead of enjoying the spring with Sister Feng at home?”

Jia Lian sighed lightly and drained his cup. “Don’t mention it. My aunt from the south has passed away, and Grandmother has been thinking of Cousin Lin. She sent me ahead to the Datong Wharf to receive her.”

“Lin Daiyu?” Shi Yi was startled, the name nearly slipping from his lips. Could it really be such a coincidence? Since his inexplicable rebirth into this world of the Red Chamber, it had been just over a month. Today, after finally being allowed out following a period of confinement, his purse had barely escaped a thief, and now he’d chanced upon the very Lin Daiyu, recently orphaned and journeying to the capital?

As Shi Yi mused silently, a steward from the Jia household hurried in, announcing, “Second Master Lian, Miss Lin has arrived. You should go quickly!”

“Very well, let’s go!” Jia Lian’s face lit with delight. He sprang to his feet, seized Shi Yi’s wrist, and urged, “Yi, come with me! It’s been ages since we last met—we must have a proper drink together later.”

“Ah…” Shi Yi, seeing such an enthusiastic invitation, could hardly refuse; it was exactly what he’d hoped for. Feeling a touch awkward, he gently extricated his hand, cupped his fists, and replied, “As you wish, Second Brother Lian.”

Jia Lian clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “Good! Brother Zhen is hosting a banquet at the Tianxiang Pavilion tonight, and some southern merchants will be there as well. We’ll go together.”

Shi Yi nodded in agreement, and the two left the tavern side by side.

As they hurried to catch up with Daiyu’s sedan, they spotted ahead on East Straight Street a four-bearer palanquin with blue curtains, followed by several carriages, already halfway down the avenue.

Riding after them, they soon drew alongside Daiyu’s sedan, slowing their pace to keep in step.

“Second Brother Lian, is that Cousin Lin in the sedan?” Shi Yi asked curiously as he rode up.

“That’s her,” Jia Lian replied with a glance at the palanquin, smiling.

They had been delayed buying horses—Jia Lian, sent to greet a guest, naturally arrived on horseback, while Shi Yi, empty-handed, had to purchase a mount; otherwise, the journey from the east city dock to the Rongguo Mansion in the west city would be over ten kilometers. After chasing a thief across several streets earlier, Shi Yi was already exhausted.

But to get back to the matter, after Jia Lian’s confirmation, Shi Yi’s heart leapt with secret delight. He leaned closer, craning his neck to peer through the gauzy window of the sedan, his mind racing with poetic phrases, pondering how best to strike up a conversation with Daiyu.

Inside, Daiyu sat with perfect composure, having overheard their brief exchange. Her delicate brows knit in thought—was this outsider kin to the Rongguo clan as well? He had called out “Second Brother Lian”—Jia Lian she knew, for the household matron and steward had told her upon disembarking that he was her eldest uncle’s son. But who was this other man? Could he be her second uncle’s son? She recalled her mother mentioning a noble cousin, born with a jade in his mouth.

“Could it be him?” Daiyu’s curiosity grew, and she turned to peer out through the fine silk window.

Just as she did, Shi Yi was also bending low, peering left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the curtain. Their eyes met through the filmy veil. To Shi Yi, he could just make out the faint silhouette of a willow-slim figure within, graceful and ethereal, as if she too were studying him.

His face brightened, and he waved at the window with a smile, calling, “Cousin Lin!”

“Ah!” Daiyu cried softly, quickly turning away, covering her face with her hands, her cheeks flushing and her heart racing.

“So it really is my cousin from my second uncle’s family!” she thought, recognizing his playful address. Remembering his earlier mischievous display, Daiyu couldn’t help but laugh, her fingers twisting her handkerchief. “This cousin seems rather different from the others,” she mused.

Hearing her faint laughter, Shi Yi’s eyes lit up and he seized the moment. “Cousin Lin, you’ve come all the way from the south to the capital. Along the way, you must have seen many beautiful landscapes, some radiant, some desolate—sights one cannot find in books or imagine without experience.”

Daiyu nodded in agreement, secretly glancing at his shadow outside, thinking, “This cousin does seem to have some insight.”

Shi Yi continued, matching her mood, “It’s often said that reading ten thousand books is no substitute for traveling ten thousand miles. I believe this to be true. The journey has been hard, leaving home and traveling so many miles to the capital. But when your heart is troubled, at least you have the mountains and rivers for company.”

Daiyu was deeply moved; his words echoed her own thoughts, stirring memories of the past and sorrow for the present. She fell silent.

Shi Yi hesitated, then dismounted, leading his horse alongside the palanquin, drawing even closer.

As Daiyu sat in silent longing, her bright eyes caught sight of a shadow drawing ever nearer to the window. She grew tense, her hands twisting her kerchief, her heart fluttering from melancholy to bashfulness. “Really, this cousin is too…” she thought, lowering her head to stare nervously at her embroidered shoes.

Seeing he was close enough, Shi Yi lowered his voice, “Cousin Lin, do not grieve. Once you reach the Rongguo Mansion, you’ll find it lively and full of sisters, and Grandmother is kind and loving. She will never let you suffer the slightest slight.”

Hearing his words, Daiyu realized he truly meant to comfort her and had made no improper move. Her eyes fluttered, and the kerchief in her hands relaxed. Suddenly feeling she had misunderstood, she covered her face in embarrassment, her pale cheeks flushing to the tips of her ears.

Shi Yi, oblivious to the blush within the sedan, went on, “Cousin Lin, the rules of a great household are many and complicated. Let me explain some of them to you, and you’d best remember them.” With that, he began to recount in detail the customs and notable figures of the Jia household.

Daiyu’s expression grew serious, and she listened intently, committing every word to memory.

As he spoke, a chill wind lifted the gauze curtain and, for a fleeting moment, Daiyu caught a clear glimpse of the young man outside—handsome and distinguished. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes remained fixed, and as Shi Yi finished, his silhouette drew near once more. Daiyu’s face flushed, and she hurriedly turned away, hiding her face with her embroidered handkerchief, feeling both shy and anxious.

Shi Yi, unable to see her reaction, felt slightly exasperated. He had spoken to her at length, yet the girl had not replied with a single word. Shaking his head with a wry smile, he sighed, “Ah, girls of this era are just too restrained and proper. If it were the modern world, with my looks alone, who knows how many young women would be helpless before me.”

His mind began to wander, drifting to another world, when a man approached from behind, cupped his hands, and greeted him with a smile, “I am Jia Hua. Greetings, Young Master Shi.”

Shi Yi stopped, studied him for a moment—sword-like brows, clear eyes, a broad face, and dressed in a scholar’s long robe of Songjiang brocade. He looked every inch the picture of uprightness. Had Shi Yi not read the Red Chamber, he might have been fooled by this righteous façade.

“You must be Jia Yucun?” Shi Yi asked, frowning.

“Er…” Jia Yucun was displeased at being addressed so directly but forced himself to respond with a façade of composure. “I am.”

“Alright then,” Shi Yi replied offhandedly, swung himself into the saddle, and with a tug of the reins, rode off after Jia Lian, making it quite clear he had no interest in further conversation.

“You…!” Jia Yucun stood dumbfounded, fuming, “What an uncouth fellow—beyond all teaching!” With a flourish of his sleeve, he turned and climbed into his own palanquin.

…

After half a day’s journey, they finally reached Ningrong Street. Along the way, Shi Yi kept up a lively conversation, ranging from scenic landscapes to the delights of local cuisine, discussing many novel things and the cultural differences between north and south. Daiyu, gradually relaxed by his engaging talk, started to reply—though only with a word or two at a time.

As their palanquin entered Ningrong Street, they saw two large stone lions squatting north of the road. Shi Yi, still on horseback, smiled and explained, “Cousin Lin, we’re nearly there. To the left is Ningguo Mansion—a little farther west lies Rongguo Mansion.”

Daiyu smiled gently, lifting a corner of the curtain. She saw a grand three-bay gate with beast-head knockers, and a dozen or so splendidly dressed men seated before it. Above the main entrance hung a plaque inscribed in bold characters: “Imperially Commissioned Ningguo Mansion.”

The servants at the gate, spotting Jia Lian and Shi Yi, hurried forward with greetings. The steward among them said, “Second Master Lian, Master Yi—the master was just speaking of you. How fortunate you should arrive together today.” With that, the servants stepped forward to take their horses and lead them toward the back street.