Chapter 89: May I Ask, Who Is My Husband?

Shen Residence, Brook Garden, Rising Cloud Terrace.

“Young Master, while you were away, we managed to create three kinds of liquor. We invited several master tasters to sample them; they said they’re quite similar to what you described.” Steward Su, standing beside Lu Jin, reported on the brewing progress.

“Hmm. Can the strength of the liquors be kept consistent?” Lu Jin asked. He didn’t care much about the exact proof, but it was crucial that a thirty-proof liquor today shouldn’t be stronger than tomorrow’s, nor should it be bland as water the day after. That would be laughable.

“Young Master, there’s no issue there. When distilling the base spirits, we record them according to different time intervals; the earliest distillate is strongest, then comes the next… After many trials, we can now keep it stable. Later, we can fine-tune it with blending as needed.”

“Very good. You’ve worked hard, Steward Su.” Lu Jin was pleased with the results; he couldn’t ask for more.

“Afterward, you can continue experimenting, perhaps add a portion of base spirit or floral extracts to see if the aroma can be enriched.” Lu Jin could only make random suggestions here. Anyway, there were people to test things out.

After working together on brewing these past days, his communication with Steward Su had become much smoother. His instructions were now well understood.

“Certainly, Young Master,” Su replied.

“Husband!”

Lu Jin looked up. Ah, wasn’t that their empress dowager taking charge? Shen Yanxi was approaching the floating terrace with several attendants.

“Madam, come taste the fine brew your husband has made.” Lu Jin called out.

“Miss!” Steward Su and the two he brought along hurriedly greeted Shen Yanxi.

She nodded to the steward and settled into a chair.

“Excellent, but much too strong. You men must like it.” Shen Yanxi sipped each in turn; the last liquor made her feel as if her whole body were ablaze.

“We could use the lowest-proof liquor as a base, add floral extracts and such, and see if we can craft a drink specifically for women.” This echoed his earlier instructions to Su. Seeing his wife here sparked new inspiration.

“Steward Su, how many people are involved in the brewing now?” Lu Jin turned to ask.

“Seventeen.”

“Find more people. This isn’t enough; there’s too much to do. Add staff according to my suggestion, and try to hurry.”

“And have the porcelain workshop make some elegant bottles in this style for the liquor.” The ceramics here were quite up to standard.

“Yes, Young Master.”

“These are chapters twenty-one to forty of Dream of the Red Chamber. Arrange for printing as well. It’ll be ready for sale next month.” Lu Jin drew a notebook from his sleeve and handed it to Su.

“Young Master, we’ve brought the pigments, canvases, and brushes you requested last time. These two are dedicated to researching pigments for you.” After much interaction, the steward had grown used to these peculiar terms.

“Pigments? Husband, do you want to paint?” Shen Yanxi exclaimed.

Was there anything her husband couldn’t do? Still, it made sense; music, chess, calligraphy, and painting were always intertwined, and any scholar would know some. But if her husband wanted to paint, surely he would be a master.

“Hmm. I won’t say yet. Let me try first.” Lu Jin teased.

The two assistants opened their bundles, revealing thick fabric inside. Lu Jin inspected each piece; a few were quite good, but he had to test them with pigments.

“Where are the pigments?” Lu Jin asked.

The other assistant hurriedly opened a chest, which was filled with jars and containers.

“Young Master, as per your instructions, we blended with pine oil and other oils. This batch uses linseed oil, which works best,” the assistant explained.

Lu Jin took it, grabbed a brush, and began painting randomly on the canvas. Shen Yanxi watched, bewildered—what kind of technique was this? Pigments mixed with oil? Using fabric instead of paper? She kept silent, simply watching in fascination.

Lu Jin’s heart was soaring. When he left instructions before, he hadn’t expected much; he’d merely asked them to mix traditional painting materials with oils and to enhance the vibrancy and variety of pigments. He reckoned it might take months or even years.

But seeing the vivid colors on the canvas, the smooth blending and fine texture, his breath nearly faltered—such was the power of a great family! How many skilled hands had this required? To achieve it so swiftly was almost unbelievable.

Shen Yanxi noticed Lu Jin’s breath growing uneven, his face flushed red. She thought he might be unwell, and was just about to approach when Lu Jin looked up at her, his gaze burning: “Madam, I want to give you a gift—one unique in all the world!”

Not waiting for her reaction, Lu Jin turned and instructed, “Use this fabric as a standard, and the same for the pigments. You can refine them further. The Shen family will spare no reward; any achievement will be richly compensated. Send me another batch of this fabric and pigment soon.”

“Madam, the steward and these assistants deserve great reward!” Lu Jin added. He didn’t bother with money matters; with such a capable wife, why waste his own effort?

“Steward Su, make a list of everyone who contributed to this work, ranked by merit. Bring it to me. My husband’s word is Shen family’s will; all who earn merit shall be handsomely rewarded!”

Shen Yanxi still didn’t know exactly what this was about, but she would always support her husband. That was why she asked Su to organize things; she needed time to understand before deciding on rewards.

The steward and assistants were delighted, thanked them repeatedly, and withdrew.

Watching them leave, Lu Jin reflected that everything still depended on manpower; otherwise, he’d be overwhelmed doing it all himself. The advantages of a great clan were beyond imagining; talent was found in every field. On his own, he’d be at his wits’ end.

“Chasing Moon, fetch the easel made a few days ago from the courtyard, and don’t forget the drawing board.” Both had been prepared long ago—even if he didn’t paint oils, he’d planned to create some traditional works.

“Husband, sit and have some tea first.” Shen Yanxi watched Lu Jin pacing back and forth, dizzy from his excitement. She rarely saw him so animated. She guessed he wanted to paint for her—a gift, surely exceptional, but was that reason enough for such excitement?

Lu Jin could not help but be excited. Since being with Shen Yanxi, he had never given her a proper gift. The value of oil painting, for Lu Jin, was secondary; what mattered was capturing his wife’s likeness with utmost realism and presenting it to her.

“Brother!”

Just as they chatted, Wu You arrived, and Shen Yanxi’s mood soured. She could understand, but competing daily with another woman for her husband’s attention—what was she to do?

“How did you rest last night, You Ran?” Lu Jin greeted Wu You.

“Very well. The scenery here is splendid.” Wu You gazed at Brook Garden’s lakes and hills in awe. Though born to high officials and nobles, the Shen family’s depth was not built in a few generations. Wu You’s admiration was not surprising.

“Shen Garden is more than Brook Garden; the other gardens are just as lovely. I’ll take you around when I have time.”

“Please sit, Master Wu. Musician, bring tea.” However unwilling, one had to be hospitable—such was the Shen family’s teaching.

“Greetings, Sister-in-law. Please call me Wu You or You Ran.” Wu You bowed and took a seat.

“What is Brother planning?” Wu You asked, seeing several servants carrying an easel.

“I’d like to paint a picture for your sister-in-law. By the way, You Ran, can you play the zither?” Lu Jin asked.

Shen Yanxi’s palms itched to crush something. If he wanted music, couldn’t she play for him? If need be, the household musicians could perform; what instrument wasn’t available? Why insist on someone else?

Lu Jin was oblivious to her annoyance, simply chatting with Wu You.

“Of course. I can’t match Sister-in-law, but I can play passably,” Wu You replied modestly.

“Oh? You’ve heard her play?” Lu Jin was surprised; Shen Yanxi hadn’t performed in these few days at Shangqing.

“Sister-in-law’s fame is widespread, her skill unmatched. I’ve heard much about her.”

“Indeed. Her playing is lethal.”

Shen Yanxi: ????

“How so, Brother?” Wu You was puzzled. How could music be lethal?

“It’s simply too good. You wouldn’t know, but I once heard her play ‘Floating Clouds.’ I was utterly swept away—first transcendent, then like a river suddenly surging forth, overwhelming me. I was breathless by the end, drenched in sweat, nearly lost half my life. Wouldn’t you call that lethal?” Lu Jin laughed.

“It’s not as exaggerated as Husband says,” Shen Yanxi blushed. The fool always praised her in front of others; though she was secretly delighted, it was embarrassing.

“Now the tools are here; let me paint. You Ran, would you play a tune?” Lu Jin got busy.

“I’d be glad to!”

From this day forward, Rising Cloud Terrace in Brook Garden gained a new scene. In the morning light on the floating platform, the Shen family’s son-in-law Lu Jin painted with focused devotion, occasionally glancing at the busy Second Miss Shen ahead. Their gazes would meet unintentionally, tender affection tangled in the sunlight.

There was always music to accompany them—sometimes played by the beautiful Master Wu, sometimes by the household musicians. Other sons and daughters of the Shen residence occasionally visited and played a piece.

Yet no one ever saw what Lu Jin was painting; he simply painted, day after day, for an hour or two each day, never missing a session. The Miss enjoyed it, never urging him.

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On the floating terrace, the children’s morning martial practice had ended; they’d returned to the inner courtyard to study. Such small matters were left to Wu You’s care. Now only Lu Jin and his wife remained.

“Musician, Shu Qing, you may both leave. I wish to speak privately with my husband,” Shen Yanxi said, watching Lu Jin absorbed in his painting. She hadn’t wanted to distract him, but her heart was in turmoil.

Shu Qing was surprised; as a close maid, even when sharing her mistress’s room, there was never need for privacy. Now she was being sent away—what could they be discussing? But orders were orders; she ushered the others out.

“Let’s go. Miss must want to have a heart-to-heart with Young Master. She’s asked us to wait outside before,” Musician said to Shu Qing.

When the servants had withdrawn, Shen Yanxi sat in her chair, her face conflicted as she watched Lu Jin, her thoughts swirling endlessly. At last, she spoke:

“Lu Jin, who are you really?”

Lu Jin, in the midst of painting, froze instantly, his brush suspended in midair.