Dream of the Red Chamber: Ink Stains on Xiaoxiang

The late-spring Xiaoxiang Pavilion always seemed to hold a damp chill. Lin Daiyu leaned by the window, watching Zijuan put the last batch of dried peach petals into a brocade box. Her fingers unconsciously rubbed the yellowed letter hidden in her sleeve. It was an item her father, Lin Ruhai, had entrusted to his steward, Zhou Rui, before his death. Last month, Zhou Rui's wife had secretly slipped it to her, saying only, "The master instructed that you open it only when absolutely necessary."

"Miss, Second Master Bao has sent someone with some newly made rouge," Zijuan said, interrupting her thoughts. "It's a rose balm newly presented as tribute from the south. He saved it especially for you." Daiyu took the rouge box