And this is what was there:

The same cue that introduced the autumn lyric at the start of the chapter. What follows is a long unrhymed set piece on a banquet table, in uneven measures that run four, seven and eight characters to the line.

Coloured silks tied up and fluttering, incense smoke rich and thick.

結綵 is the hanging of coloured silk streamers, still the standard way a Chinese building is dressed for a celebration. 馥郁 is a heavy, sweet, layered fragrance — a word kept for scents you can stand inside.

Gold-inlaid tables hung with twisted gauze, dazzling to the eye;

戧金 is a real lacquer technique: the surface is incised and the cut lines filled with gold, so the pattern sits in the wood rather than on it. 絞綃 is a fine twisted silk gauze. The novel is describing furniture the way a catalogue would, and the effect is deliberate — this is a rich man's room being inventoried.

Bright-lacquered chairs spread with brocade, adding splendour to every seat.

彩漆 is coloured lacquer, and 錦繡, brocade and embroidery, is the standard pairing for sumptuous cloth. The line answers the one before it exactly: gold tables against lacquered chairs, gauze against brocade, dazzling against splendid.

Tree fruit fresh, tea and broth fragrant and steaming.

Back to a four-and-four line, and the set piece turns from furniture to food. 香噴 is fragrance actually puffing out of something — the word gives you the steam coming off the cups.