Yin Minghui settled into the Shi Mansion as though it were entirely natural. Every detail of her daily life — food, clothing, lodging, and routine — was personally arranged by Qian Lan. The Old Madam, uneasy, would occasionally send her most trusted maid to check on things.

The Shi Mansion provided her with fine food and drink. A physician came three times a day to examine her and take her pulse. The maids around the mansion all said the same thing: Yin Minghui was not a member of the Shi household, yet she was treated better than the actual misses and ladies of the family. It was plain to see just how exceptional her standing here truly was.

After Shun Cheng entered winter, the weather grew colder with each passing day. The misses and ladies had already changed into their padded winter jackets. Their qipaos were pressed and packed away into trunks to wait for the season that would belong to them again next year.

Yan Qing was sorting through the seasonal clothing with Jing Zhi and the others, packing away out-of-season garments and sealing them with camphor balls.

Yan Qing had a great many clothes — more than half of them had come with her as part of her dowry.

At the time, Father Yan had hired over a dozen of Shun Cheng’s most renowned tailors and kept them working day and night at the city’s largest tailoring shop for over a month. When the clothes were delivered to the Shi Mansion, they filled two large horse-drawn carts.

These clothes were all in the most fashionable styles — even after several more years, they would not look outdated.

“Father is afraid you’ll be at a disadvantage here. He sends you clothes every few days.” Jing Zhi smiled. “Just look, Miss — all of these are brand new, not a single one worn even once.”

Father Yan doted on his daughter. Every time he went out, he would buy things for Yan Qing, and what he bought most often was Western-style clothing.

Yan Qing had so many clothes that even changing into a different outfit every single day wouldn’t get through them all.

“I’ve told him not to keep buying, but he never listens.” Yan Qing smiled with fond resignation.

Compared to all Father Yan had done for her, she felt she could do so little in return. She had spoken with Shi Ting about it — when the Yan family business entered its slow season, she wanted to go back and stay with him for a while.

Children could give their parents material comforts, but what parents needed most was simply their presence.

The three of them were still talking when an unfamiliar voice drifted in from outside. “Is anyone here?”

Murong looked up, set the clothes in her hand back into the trunk, and said, “Miss, let me go and see.”

Murong stepped out of the side room and walked quickly to the courtyard gate. Outside stood two maids and a young woman dressed in fine, elaborate clothing.

“Miss Yin.” Murong gave a bow.

Yin Minghui peered curiously into the courtyard. “Is your Young Mistress in?”

“The Young Mistress is sorting out the out-of-season clothes. That sort of thing tends to take a while.” Murong’s words carried an unspoken meaning — Yan Qing was busy and had no time to receive visitors.

Yin Minghui seemed not to catch the hint. She said pleasantly, “You can just leave all of that to the servants — why bother doing it yourself?”

“Our Miss likes to take care of her own things personally.”

“Then let me go in and take a look.” Yin Minghui said, already stepping into the courtyard. “Maybe I can even lend a hand.”

Murong followed behind her, unable to fully conceal the irritation in her eyes.

“Does that bird talk?” Yin Minghui was drawn to the large parrot hanging in its cage beneath the covered walkway. “It’s not very pretty-looking. Not nearly as nice as the ones at my aunt’s house. Those are all rare breeds — I’ve heard that a single bird can cost as much as an entire house.”

Murong privately thought that spending the price of a house on a single bird wasn’t extravagant — it was just plain foolish.

Murong didn’t bother arguing with Yin Minghui. She couldn’t even bring herself to respond. But the slighted parrot was not about to let it go.

The bird hopped about on its perch, flapped its wings twice, and called out in a voice sharper than ever: “Ugly thing! Ugly thing!”

The parrot directed its words squarely at Yin Minghui as it spoke, and her expression instantly changed.

“Who are you calling ugly?” Yin Minghui had never expected to be insulted by a parrot.

Murong finally spoke. “Miss Yin, it’s only a bird. Miss Yin is gracious and broad-minded — surely she wouldn’t stoop to the level of a bird.”

Yin Minghui’s face flushed deep red, but she couldn’t find a word to say in response.

It was her maid Xue Tao who spoke up with indignant grievance. “The parrot your Young Mistress keeps is terribly ill-mannered — how can it just go around calling people ugly?”

“Da Laohu.” A warm, clear voice floated out from inside the room. “Don’t be rude to our guest.”

Yan Qing lifted the heavy fabric door curtain and walked out, all smiles.

She was dressed in a pale pink jacket and skirt trimmed with gold edging. The ingot-shaped collar framed her slender neck. Even bundled in the thickness of winter clothing, her waist remained impossibly trim.

Her face was like a lotus blossom, her brows curved like willow leaves, and her complexion like snow. Her dark hair was swept up high, the only adornment a single white jade hairpin tucked into the coil — that touch of pale white was both simple and crisp, adding a note of freshness to her radiant beauty.

The way she walked out smiling like that — it truly felt like sunlight breaking through, as if spring had returned to the earth.

By comparison, Yin Minghui, draped in layers of jewels and dressed in ostentatious finery, looked gaudy and overdone.

Yin Minghui had dressed deliberately. Everything she wore was expensive. But she found that no matter how she dressed herself, standing before someone as quietly luminous and refined as Yan Qing, she couldn’t help but feel she was coming up short.

“Miss Yin, please don’t take offense on account of a bird.” Yan Qing gave a faint smile. “This bird has a stubborn streak. If someone speaks kindly to it, it’ll shower them with sweet words in return. But if someone says something that doesn’t sit well with it, it will absolutely talk back.”

As she spoke, Yan Qing picked up a few grains of rice and fed them to the parrot. “You’re such a beautiful parrot.”

The parrot hopped happily and called back with evident delight, “You’re so pretty! You’re so beautiful!”

Yan Qing smiled. “Animals, like people, understand kind words and harsh ones. Treat them with one part respect, and they’ll return it threefold.”

Yin Minghui’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. It had been she who had first said the parrot was not pretty-looking — and so the parrot had struck back.

“It’s only a bird.” Yin Minghui quickly found herself a way out. “I wouldn’t bother arguing with it.”

Yan Qing finished feeding the parrot and turned to face her. “Was there something you needed, Miss Yin?”

“I just… I heard there were a lot of interesting things in your courtyard and was curious to come and take a look.”

“This courtyard of mine is the smallest in the Shi Mansion. I just keep a few small animals.”

“You keep animals too?” Yin Minghui’s eyes brightened. “Cats and dogs? My aunt keeps several cats at her home — imported breeds of the finest quality, fur as white as snow and eyes that shine like glass. A few days ago, one of the cats misbehaved and my aunt had it beaten to death. She’d paid a fortune for it and had it killed just like that. I felt terrible.”

“I don’t keep cats.” Yan Qing thought to herself that the Qian family people all seemed to share a particular habit of flaunting their wealth.

The Qian family could afford to flaunt it because they genuinely had it. But this Yin Minghui was only a relative of the Qian family — the Qian family’s wealth was not hers. Yet every word out of her mouth made it sound as though she were a Qian family daughter, as if an enormous fortune were waiting for her to inherit.

Yin Minghui didn’t know much about Yan Qing yet, and didn’t realize that the Yan family was also a family of great wealth. While there was some gap between the Yan family and the Qian family, anything the Qian family had, the Yan family could acquire too if they chose to.

Some people wore their wealth on the outside. Others carried it within.

“Then what do you keep?” Yin Minghui asked with curiosity. “Not chickens and ducks, surely?”

As she said it, she laughed at her own joke, because in her mind, that would be terribly beneath them.

“What I keep, Miss Yin had best not see.” Yan Qing curved her lips slightly. “Why don’t you go sit in the pavilion over there, Miss Yin? I’ll have someone brew some tea.”

But Yin Minghui’s curiosity had already been piqued. “I wonder what the Young Mistress is keeping — might we be permitted a glimpse?”

Murong saw Yin Minghui pressing the question and glanced at Yan Qing with a look of inquiry.

Yan Qing gave a slight shake of her head.

She could certainly let Er Dan give this Miss Yin a good scare — but Yin Minghui was a guest, and she represented Qian Lan and the Qian family’s face. If she ended up frightened witless like Shi Yutong had been, the Old Madam would be the first to come out and fault Yan Qing for being inconsiderate.

“This way, please, Miss Yin.” Yan Qing clearly had no interest in pursuing the subject further. Yin Minghui had no good reason to keep pressing, and so she followed Yan Qing into the garden pavilion.

“Have you ever considered redecorating this place, Young Mistress?” Yin Minghui sat down, looking around with a critical eye. “This pavilion must be getting on in years — the paint’s peeling off the pillars, and the style isn’t really in fashion anymore.”

Yan Qing said, “Every blade of grass and every tree here was personally arranged by Shi Ting. He wasn’t going for grandeur — just something that felt comfortable.”

“So it was designed by Seventh Young Master himself. No wonder it has a uniqueness all its own.”

Murong: “……”

The woman could change her tune at remarkable speed. One moment she was sneering at the pavilion for looking old — the instant she heard it was Shi Ting’s design, it suddenly became sophisticated and refined.

“By the way, where is Seventh Young Master?” Yin Minghui picked up her teacup, asking in what she hoped sounded like a casual manner.

Yan Qing used a small wooden tong to pick out some tea leaves and gave them a quick rinse with clean water. “Shi Ting is at the Military Police Division. He’s usually very busy.”

“The Military Police Division is renowned throughout the land. Seventh Young Master truly is accomplished for his years.”

Yan Qing smiled lightly, neither confirming nor denying.

Yin Minghui could sense the distance in Yan Qing’s every word and gesture. She had barely been sitting for any time at all before she rose and took her leave.

Yan Qing had Murong see the guest out, while she continued tending to her tea leaves.

After a little while, Murong returned. Her expression made it plain she was also struggling not to laugh.

“Miss, is Miss Yin a few screws short?”

Yan Qing brewed her tea and gazed at the pale green blossoms swirling in the cup, smiling and shaking her head. “People like her are the easiest to make use of. They think they’re terribly clever, while every word and action they make has already been seen through entirely.”

“She came here specifically to find the Young Master.” Murong gave a huff. “It’s fortunate the Young Master is not the sort of man with a roving eye.”

Yan Qing smiled and said nothing.

By evening, Shi Ting had returned from the Military Police Division. Yan Qing had already prepared several of his favorite dishes herself, while Jing Zhi was busy setting out the bowls and chopsticks.

Shi Ting washed up and came over. Seeing the spread of food on the table, he felt his heart fill with warmth.

For him, after a full day of exhausting work, coming home to find his beloved wife and a delicious meal waiting — that was the happiest moment of his day.

The two had just sat down when a discordant voice carried in from outside. “Is the Seventh Young Mistress in?”