The afternoon banquet was, in truth, a lavish spread. The He family was riding high, naturally well-off, and the banquet table was stocked with every delicacy of land and sea — even the finger bowl water was Biluochun tea served in a gold basin. For the after-meal pastries, there was a dish of water chestnut cakes, out of season and out of region both. Where Madam He had hunted them down, no one could say.

But Ye Lingbo had no time for pastries.

She was nothing if not capable, and by some means unknown, she had managed to secure for herself a small side room within the He family’s inner courtyard in under half an hour. Even Shen Biwei laughed and said “only you have the connections for that — I never had such treatment,” before walking in and stretching out on the daybed, pulling a small knife from her sleeve and beginning to whittle at a piece of wood.

Ye Lingbo waited patiently until the servant sent by the Gu household mistress had delivered the warming brazier, fitted it with its cotton cover, and arranged the tea and pastries; until Yang Niangzi had expressed her thanks; and only then did she send Xiao Die and Xiao Yu outside to keep watch and prevent anyone from coming close enough to eavesdrop. The door was shut, and she gave full vent to her feelings.

She opened with Lu Wenyin.

“I knew it — every last one of the Lu family is despicable!” She started with her thesis, then freely elaborated: “What does Lu Wenyin think she is? She married that good-for-nothing Chen Yaoqing and her tail shot straight up to the heavens. Does she think we don’t know the truth of her? It’s all because Chen Yaoqing once wanted to marry Qinglan too, and she’s been nursing a grudge ever since. The most worthless kind of woman in the world is exactly this type — too cowardly to make trouble for the man, so she takes everything out on women instead. Madam Lu spent her whole life fighting concubines, and who knows how many poor women’s lives are on her hands — and now both her daughters have learned that legacy perfectly!”

“Lingbo.” Qinglan stopped her with disapproval: “Speak no evil. Do not talk like this in front of the younger ones.”

“I speak no evil, but why does she get to do evil?” Lingbo’s mind always moved quickly — having finished with Lu Wenyin, she pivoted to the wider grievance: “Speaking honestly, all of this goes back to the old Princess of Pingjun’s health deteriorating these past two years. With her gone, not one of these elder matriarchs has the moral authority or the prestige to keep order, and the whole atmosphere of the Flower Xin Banquet has deteriorated — it’s become a true battlefield of rivalry, letting someone like Lu Wenyin run rampant. The banquet used to have a different spirit altogether — people like Elder Sister Han and Qinglan were close as blood sisters. Where do you find friendships like that now? The young misses are all at each other’s throats like fighting cocks, and it’s all the fine example Lu Wenyin has set!”

“The elder matriarchs of the old Princess of Pingjun’s generation have passed on, and the younger generation is still inexperienced — these things happen. Give it a few more years and it will settle,” Qinglan said.

“Give it a few more years? A woman has only so many Flower Xin Banquets in her life — whoever wants to wait can wait for themselves, I certainly won’t. Besides, is it not said that Grand Princess Minghua is coming to preside? Let us hope she can put things in order.” Lingbo said, and then turned to glare at Shen Biwei.

“Why are you glaring at me?” Shen Biwei was whittling but remained sharp.

“And you have the nerve to ask — what did I say about knowing things before they happen? Your sister arranged half a month ago for you to go to Baode Temple, and what good did you do? You let Lu Wanyang steal the opportunity and make a first impression before the Grand Princess. Now that the Grand Princess is presiding over the Flower Xin Banquet, you can spend the rest of your days being trampled by Lu Wanyang. Let me tell you plainly: Lu Wenyin is shallow and all she does is bark loudly. Lu Wanyang — now she is truly the dog that bites without barking. This year there are many Northern Garrison officers here, but the worthwhile ones are few. You stand around being careless with no interest in marriage, but Lu Wanyang could not care less about that — she still considers you her number one rival, and when she bites hard, don’t say your sister didn’t warn you,” Lingbo said.

Shen Biwei only laughed with contempt.

“Lu Wanyang? Outdo me? Only if she comes back in another life.”

Lingbo felt the despair of iron that refuses to become steel.

“What do you know — do you think this is officialdom, where rank determines everything? She has more underhanded schemes than you can count. Look at what happened to that five-step viper in my family and you still don’t understand? Their specialty is exactly these hidden tricks. Speaking of which…” She glanced at A’Cuo, who understood and was about to speak — but Lingbo did not continue, because Yanyan had finally lost her patience, and came over to pester Shen Biwei: “Elder Sister Biwei, carve me a little horse — the kind that can move.”

“I can’t do that — I only brought a small knife today, none of my proper tools.” Shen Biwei showed her: “Can I carve you a little cart instead?”

“I’ll carve your head.” Lingbo was dismissive: “A little horse — how old do you think you are? And you, Yanyan, picking up bad habits. This banquet is the one where you make your entrance — hiding in here playing, what does that look like?”

“Was it not you who dragged us in here to listen to you scold Lu Wenyin?” Shen Biwei said with unruffled composure.

Ye Lingbo glared at her.

“I can’t be bothered with you. All right — let us attend to real business, no more talk of Lu Wenyin. Just everyone stay alert. There will be more tea and pastries served outside soon, and this afternoon the matrons are all playing cards in Chunhui Hall, with the young misses keeping them company at the side. A’Cuo, your embroidery is good — take Yanyan with you and embroider. Yanyan has a cheerful, auspicious look to her that many matrons like. It is a shame that our aunt is no longer with us — I have entrusted things to Madam Wang, the one in the turquoise West Sichuan silk robe with the interlocking floral through-sleeve pattern, who has a small daughter with her. She is gentle and good-natured, and was close to our aunt — just keep close to her and enjoy yourselves. Shen Biwei, if you can get out — go outside and find out who from the Northern Garrison has come. Check whether Cui Jingyu is still there…”

“The Marquis Cui came, delivered Miss Wei, and left. I was told that when the banquet disperses this evening, it will be the Young Marquis Wei who comes to collect Miss Wei — so the Marquis Cui likely will not return,” A’Cuo quickly said.

“Lingbo.” Qinglan frowned and gave Lingbo a meaningful look.

A’Cuo understood her meaning — what business did an unmarried young miss have keeping track of an unrelated man’s whereabouts? Bad enough that Lingbo tracked such things herself — now she was “corrupting A’Cuo” as well.

“What of it — is Lu Wenyin alone allowed to scheme, while I am not? Have you not heard that saying from the Censorate? Corrupt officials are crafty — and an honest official must be craftier still, otherwise how can one withstand their arrows, open or hidden?” Lingbo was unmoved, and continued: “Xiao Liu’er, does your brother not have some useful connections among the manservants? Have him befriend the Wei family’s coachmen and attendants and find out what he can — just don’t say he is from the Ye family. If anyone asks, say he is from the Shen family — the Shen family has lent us servants before anyway.”

“Understood.” Xiao Liu’er was quick and sharp, and went straight off to work.

“Right — everyone has their tasks. Dismissed.” Lingbo rolled up her sleeves: “I am not going anywhere this afternoon. I will stay here with Qinglan. I would like to see if Lu Wenyin dares come and make trouble again — I would peel her skin off if she did!”

Shen Biwei looked at her and laughed: “Second Young Miss Ye, what a formidable air.”

“Naturally I am formidable — otherwise I should end up like you, with Lu Wanyang standing on my head? Don’t you relax either — once I have finished seeing to Qinglan I will come to manage your affairs. With me here, Lu Wanyang will not step over you. These petty schemes she has — wanting to bully my people? Try again in the next lifetime!”

Lingbo’s words, once spoken, were not empty. Poor Madam He, all her careful efforts — the five or six card tables set out in Chunhui Hall for the matrons to drink and play cards, and along the south wall two rows of rose chairs, plus a large round table laid with tea and pastries where the young misses could do embroidery, play chess, practice calligraphy, or sketch flowers to their hearts’ content — all that cheerful liveliness had been commandeered at the outset by Lu Wenyin.

Taking full advantage of the Elder Matriarch’s favor, she had reversed the roles of host and guest entirely, stepping in to help Madam He receive the guests. She was witty and entertaining, beautiful and quick, nimble in every interaction, gliding through the room like a butterfly among flowers — one moment saying “Elder Matriarch’s luck at cards is excellent today, let me buy in and share the winnings later,” the next exclaiming “Truly, Little Sister Qingyi’s embroidery is superb — what a fresh and clever design. Not like our Wanyang, who can only embroider the ‘longevity’ character.” He Qingyi’s face went scarlet at that — the Elder Matriarch’s birthday was next month, and Lu Wanyang had already been embroidering a ten-thousand-longevity screen for her, a display of “filial devotion” that outshone even the old woman’s own granddaughter.

Having quietly dealt He Qingyi a blow, Lu Wenyin turned without pause to her primary target of the day: Wei Leshui. To put it plainly, had Wei Leshui not been Marshal Wei’s daughter and the Young Marquis’s sister, her solid, plain looks and her honest, somewhat slow manner would have made her nothing more than a stepping stone for Lu Wenyin to use when praising her own sister. But she was Miss Wei, and so Lu Wenyin showed her nothing but warmth and instant affinity. Even her followers, Sun Minwen and Yang Qiaozhen, treated Wei Leshui with conspicuous enthusiasm.

Sun Minwen was manageable — after all, she came from a scholarly family and still cared for appearances. Yang Qiaozhen was of nouveau riche origins, sharp-tongued and cutting, who relied entirely on Lu Wenyin’s backing to go around acting as her enforcer — she had been restraining herself for a year, and this first Flower Xin Banquet was supposed to be her moment to show her mettle and establish her authority. Then Wei Leshui had come and she’d been performing for half the day already; she truly could not contain herself any longer and needed to pick a fight. It had also been a year, and she had forgotten just what Ye Lingbo was capable of. She thought things were as they had been that morning when Lingbo was absent — she saw Qinglan sitting quietly embroidering and could not resist coming over, laughing: “First Young Miss Ye is in such fine spirits — still embroidering mandarin ducks?”

Ye Qinglan knew her character well enough and paid her no attention, simply concentrating on her embroidery.

But Yang Qiaozhen had a streak of deliberate buffoonery, and playing at being playful, she reached out and snatched Ye Qinglan’s embroidery hoop, laughing: “Everyone says First Young Miss Ye embroiders beautifully — no one’s had a look yet, have they? These mandarin ducks are so tenderly and lovingly done — come everyone, let’s all have a look and learn…”

All the while she spoke, she held Ye Qinglan’s embroidery hoop up and passed it around for everyone to see, prompting a burst of laughter from the room. The implication was plain to all — an unmarried old spinster embroidering mandarin ducks; if that was not pining for a husband, what was?

She was feeling very pleased with herself when a figure shot out from the side and snatched the embroidery hoop straight out of her hands — a small, fine-featured figure. It was none other than Ye Lingbo.

Hearing Ye Lingbo speak, one would never picture her as someone whose eyes held laughter nearly all the time — and even when there was menace in her, it was the kind hidden beneath a smile.

Just as now: she still wore that smile, holding the embroidery hoop, positioning herself between Yang Qiaozhen and her own sister without so much as a trace of effort, asking: “Elder Sister Yang, what fine spirits you are in! Why are you not playing cards — what brings you here to teach people embroidery? Did you forget to bring pocket money?”

Yang Qiaozhen was actually somewhat afraid of her — after all, Lingbo had quite a reputation, and it was said even her own stepmother feared her, which spoke to her considerable methods. But with everyone watching, and confident in her status as a matron, there was no way she would back down. So she looked at the maid beside her, who understood and immediately said: “Why does Second Young Miss Ye still address our Madam as sister? She ought to be called Young Madam!”

The words were barely out before the maid’s face received a slap — it was Yang Niangzi, following behind Lingbo, who had struck her. Yang Niangzi was the lead household stewardess, always imposing. The maid, though slapped, dared only say: “By what right do you strike someone?”

“When the young misses and matrons are conversing, what are you interjecting for?” Yang Niangzi said coldly. “My young miss has her own reasons for addressing your madam as sister. Our household’s elder matriarch’s maiden name is Yang — she and your madam’s family are of senior and junior branches of the same clan. Addressing her as cousin by family relations is proper. It is you who should be calling my young miss ‘Cousin Young Miss.’ For your own ignorance, to dare question the young miss — I am merely correcting you on your madam’s behalf, as is entirely fitting.”

Yang Qiaozhen had taken a quiet loss, and was just about to flare up when Ye Lingbo smiled and said: “Yang Niangzi, though she is one of our own, disciplining Elder Sister Yang’s maid is overstepping. Let me apologize to my sister on her behalf.”

She smiled as she spoke, and made her apology in an unhurried, composed manner. Yang Qiaozhen could do nothing with her, and could only say: “I don’t blame you for your people having long hands — but this is not our own home. This is the Flower Xin Banquet. Having someone howling like a ghost is hardly the way to behave before the host family.”

The moment she said this, the maid who had been covering her face and shedding silent tears immediately began weeping aloud — clearly trying to broadcast the confrontation. Madam He, seeing this, hurried over at once.

“So Madam Xue is also aware that this is the Flower Xin Banquet?” Ye Qinglan addressed her by her husband’s family name, and said evenly: “We are all unmarried young misses, and we were passing the time doing needlework. For Madam Xue to come over out of nowhere and mock us with ’embroidering mandarin ducks’ and ‘so lovingly done’ — what could that possibly mean?”

Her words left Yang Qiaozhen’s face slightly reddened and unable to answer — but then a voice laughed and said: “Elder Sister Ye is so exacting about etiquette, as becomes a young miss. The matrons were only joking — why take it so seriously?”

It was Lu Wenyin speaking. Her intelligence was in an entirely different class from Yang Qiaozhen’s. She smiled as she walked into the crowd — the matrons and young misses parting for her as she came — and looked at Ye Qinglan, resting her hand on Yang Qiaozhen’s shoulder and her chin on her shoulder, watching Ye Qinglan smile and saying: “Elder Sister, please don’t misunderstand Madam Xue’s kind intentions. Among all of us sisters, you are the only one yet without a resolution — she worries for you. She hopes you will soon find your match and join our ranks. It is all for your good.”

“Exactly.” Yang Qiaozhen felt the reinforcement arrive and reacted immediately — abandoning the business of the slapped maid, she resumed her earlier line of mockery: “I see that Elder Sister Ye is already embroidering mandarin ducks — clearly she longs to be one herself. So naturally I wanted to help Elder Sister’s wish come true. Forgive me for being so blunt and direct…”

“Madam Xue means so well for Elder Sister — had she not said anything, we would all have assumed Elder Sister truly came only to look after her younger sisters, never guessing that Elder Sister herself still hopes to be married…” Lu Wenyin immediately followed up.

The two of them, one answering the other, had neatly pinned Ye Qinglan to the label of a spinster desperate to marry. The young misses around them found excuses to drift away, while among the matrons some could not help but laugh. There were kinderhearted ones who felt embarrassed on Ye Qinglan’s behalf…

The expression in Ye Lingbo’s eyes turned cold. She was just about to speak — but Ye Qinglan took hold of her hand.

She stood up like an elder sister and stepped in front of Ye Lingbo.

“Madam Xue’s heart is certainly good — but her eyesight appears to be rather poor.” She calmly produced the embroidery hoop and said: “What I am embroidering is not a mandarin duck. It is a cuckoo bird. The character ‘jiū’ — ‘cuckoo’ — shares its sound with the word for ‘nine,’ and carries the meaning of long life. Just now I happened to overhear the matrons mentioning that the Elder Matriarch’s birthday celebration is approaching. The Elder Matriarch has received us all with gracious hospitality and made us feel at home — I have nothing with which to repay her kindness, so I thought I would embroider this cuckoo bird image as a birthday gift for the Elder Matriarch.”

When she finished speaking, everyone in the room was momentarily stunned. Lingbo, however, responded immediately, and laughed: “Sister, how do you write that character for ‘cuckoo’? Is it the same ‘jiū’ as in ‘cuckoo usurping the magpie’s nest’?”

Every matron in the room was a sharp-minded woman — they had all watched perfectly clearly as Lu Wenyin used the Elder Matriarch’s partiality to play host in place of the real host and push Madam He to one side. At Ye Lingbo’s reference to “cuckoo usurping the magpie’s nest,” who could fail to follow? Suppressed laughter swept the room, and a few who were on good terms with Madam He simply laughed outright.

Ye Qinglan looked at Lingbo with a helpless expression. Lingbo simply stuck out her tongue, the picture of innocence.

“The Rites of the Later Han records: ‘The royal staff is nine feet long, tipped with a carved cuckoo bird — for the cuckoo is a bird that does not choke. It is wished that the elderly shall not choke.’ The cuckoo bird is a symbol of virtue and longevity in the elderly. In the Han dynasty, those among the elderly who were deemed virtuous, upon reaching seventy, were presented with a cuckoo staff, permitted to pass freely in and out of government offices, with children and grandchildren all showing them reverence and filial devotion. It fits perfectly with the occasion of the Elder Matriarch’s seventieth birthday this year — how could it mean what you were suggesting?” Ye Qinglan said, in her unhurried way.

“Oh — so that is how it is.” Lingbo drew the syllable out with exaggerated enlightenment, then turned to look at Yang Qiaozhen, smiling: “It seems I shall need to read more books myself — otherwise I might end up like Elder Sister Yang, not recognizing a cuckoo bird at all and mistaking it for a mandarin duck…”

Madam He was still standing there looking dazed, but He Qingyi had already come forward to bow to Ye Qinglan: “Sister was so thoughtful — let me thank Elder Sister Ye on my grandmother’s behalf.” Only then did Madam He come to herself and begin expressing her gratitude at length.

What they were thanking her for was not the embroidery gift — it was that sentence of Lingbo’s, “cuckoo usurping the magpie’s nest,” spoken before the assembled company and naming what Lu Wenyin had been doing.

Lu Wenyin and Yang Qiaozhen had taken this considerable blow and were not about to accept it — but they had none of Ye Qinglan’s solid grounding in scholarship and could not immediately find a way to strike back. Just then Lu Wanyang appeared from somewhere and smiled: “Elder Sister Yang was only concerned and let her feelings run ahead of her judgment. Elder Sister Qinglan is so kind and good-natured — when the Elder Matriarch hears of this, she will surely take a personal interest in Elder Sister’s affairs…”

She was an unmarried young miss and could not say anything too pointed — but the implication was enough, and Yang Qiaozhen caught it immediately: what did it matter whether it was a cuckoo or a mandarin duck? Either way, they were matrons, and Ye Qinglan and her sisters were all young misses. Matrons held a natural power in this domain — however they chose to discuss marriage, however they mocked someone’s romantic situation, it could always be framed as “acting out of kindness, carried away by concern.” Ye Qinglan was twenty-four and still unmarried, and attending the Flower Xin Banquet — as long as these matrons held up the banner of caring about her marriage prospects, they could keep talking forever.

Yang Qiaozhen could see this; Ye Lingbo naturally saw it even more clearly.

She knew the logic of it, and chose to strike first and cut off Yang Qiaozhen’s line of attack before it could even begin.

“It makes sense that Elder Sister Yang is in a troubled state of mind,” she smiled: “After all, given what has happened at home recently, small wonder. As the old saying goes, ‘return a peach for a plum received’ — since Elder Sister Yang is so concerned for our sisters, we ought in turn to speak of Elder Sister’s troubles aloud, so as to help share her burden.”

At these words, Yang Qiaozhen’s color changed immediately. She forgot entirely that Lu Wanyang had been prompting her to continue the line about Ye Qinglan’s marriage, and said at once: “What do you mean by that? Don’t come here making things up — who said anything about getting involved in your sisters’ business…”

Ye Lingbo smiled until her eyes curved, but the meaning in those eyes was perfectly clear: don’t blame me for being ruthless if you show no mercy first. Yang Qiaozhen had heard enough about her methods, and she knew that Yang Niangzi at her side was extremely well-informed — the threat might truly not be an idle one.

But while Yang Qiaozhen was ready to let the matter drop, Lu Wenyin was not.

“In that case, why not just say it aloud — those who know will think you are helping Qiaozhen ease her burden; those who don’t know will think you are making threats,” she said, immediately pressing further, plainly setting a trap to force Ye Lingbo’s hand.

To say it aloud before the assembled company: yes, Yang Qiaozhen would lose face — but Ye Lingbo, as an unmarried young miss, being this aggressive and relentless at the Flower Xin Banquet, would not come away unscathed either. Lu Wenyin was prepared to sacrifice Yang Qiaozhen in order to cut off one of the Ye family’s arms first.

The standoff hung in the air — and then, from behind where everyone stood, the sound of laughter came.