Shen Biwei actually knew. Yet everyone assumed she did not — and in particular, Ye Lingbo: now that Zhao Yanze had come, the Shen Family’s crisis had dissolved with ease, but Lingbo was already burning her bridges, pulling Shen Biwei aside in the warm chamber for an immediate lecture on the spot: “I’m warning you — don’t fall for his tricks. With that constitution of his, he may not last from winter to spring. Don’t go rushing off to become a widow — and what’s more, it would most likely be as a side consort, not even a proper principal wife. You’d still have to live under the princess consort’s thumb.”
Shen Biwei teased her: “Who do you mean by ‘him’? Who is ‘him’?”
Of course Lingbo would not dare to say the name outright — even calling him the Rui Prince would be presumptuous. A ruler is a ruler and a subject is a subject; both thunder and rain come as the ruler’s grace. Even if His Majesty truly issued a decree today bestowing Shen Biwei into the Rui Prince’s household, that would be the Shen Family’s honor, and Master Shen and Madam Shen would kneel and give thanks for the imperial favor.
But she was a pragmatic person — even without being able to say the name, she had still thought through every advantage and disadvantage with absolute clarity: “Don’t play word games with me. You know who I mean, and that’s enough. Anyway, I’m watching you closely. Don’t do anything foolish. Finding someone good through the Flower Season Banquet the proper way is what matters — isn’t Huo Yingzhen still an option? You should settle on a good match, and Madam Shen can have some peace of mind too, instead of those people in the other courtyard scheming away every single day.”
However much Lingbo advised her, Shen Biwei had only one reply: “Not interested.”
That utterly lifeless attitude of hers was indeed cast from the same mold as a certain someone’s. Lingbo couldn’t be bothered with her any further. In any case, His Majesty also had no desire to have her — the noble daughters of the capital, though they did not attend court, had heard enough in bits and pieces from their fathers and brothers to have a fair sense of the one in the palace and his temperament.
They said he was far more benevolent than the late Emperor — affectionate toward the Rui Prince, guilt-ridden toward the Grand Princess — but in the end he was a sovereign, and benevolence was only ever reserved for his own people.
In His Majesty’s heart, the easygoing and willful Shen Biwei very likely didn’t come close to deserving that nephew of his.
Because of the Rui Prince, the Shen Family’s evening banquet was an occasion of great splendor and honor — a triumphant vindication. Han Yueqi rallied her spirits and, with consummate social grace, turned the banquet into a scene of shimmering brilliance. Not only was the feast itself among the finest in the capital, but the arrangement of the guests, the fireworks display and lantern viewing, the opera performances, and the ladies’ card games in the evening were all handled with flawless propriety. Even Nanny Song was kept back — Han Yueqi found, from somewhere, a full table of elder ladies who all knew the old palace card game, and Nanny Song was so delighted that she played straight through until the third night watch before finally taking her leave.
For those she wished to cultivate as true allies, she also spared no effort. Madam Wei, though it had been Qinglan who persuaded her to stay, had nonetheless chosen not to leave at the critical moment, and had even quarreled with Lu Wanyang over it — which showed where her loyalties lay. At the banquet, Han Yueqi gave Madam Wei every honor at her disposal: since Nanny Song and Stewardess Su, though representing the Grand Princess, were each deferring to the other and neither would take the seat of honor, Han Yueqi earnestly urged Madam Wei to take the head seat, personally offered her a toast, and arranged for the Young Mistress of the Wang Family to sit at her side. She went around the table settling everyone in turn, and then came back to the Young Mistress of the Wang Family — the two of them working in harmony, asking Madam Wei about what she had witnessed in the northern frontier, what the Northern Rong people looked like, how they fought in battle.
Madam Wei was guileless at heart: what was asked, she answered. She spoke of the northern frontier’s bitter winters — snow that fell for three months straight, water barrels freezing and splitting apart. Clothes needed no washing; rolled in a snowbank, they came out clean. She spoke of taking in the orphans of the soldiers of the Northern Garrison, how with no mothers to care for them, they had to sleep in the horse stables, drawing warmth from the horses to survive the cold nights. She spoke of the crushing defeat at Dragon-Breaker Pass — the Northern Rong had come pouring through to raid and plunder, and Yanglin City had nearly fallen. She had led the women of the household in retreat up into the mountains, making their way through the night by torchlight, and still a wolf pack had locked onto them. She had stationed the women who knew martial arts at the front, rear, and flanks of the column, with the weaker women and the children sandwiched in the middle; she and Madam Luo took the front and rear respectively, with Madam Luo leading the women who could ride and shoot, and she had them tally the count of people at every li they covered — shooting and killing one wolf at a time — and still ten-odd wolves had to be killed before the pack finally dispersed…
Every lady in that hall had grown up among the great families of the capital. Not one of them had ever heard anything like this. At first they had only been humoring her with polite interest, but before long they were truly listening. They also came to understand what was meant by that phrase “the bond forged in Yanglin City” — imagining those women making their way by torchlight through the pitch-dark forest with a wolf pack circling them, they understood: this was indeed the kind of friendship that survives the edge of death.
There was one acerbic tongue present — after Lu Wanyang’s falling-out with Madam Wei, Yang Qiaozhen had immediately stepped up as her vanguard, remarking with studied indifference, “Was it really so harrowing? The way I hear it, it sounds like something out of an opera…”
The one addressed as Madam Luo — Wei Shanzhu, who had a frank and direct temperament — immediately rose to give evidence: “Of course it is true — look, I still wear the wolf’s tooth from that night as a necklace.”
So it was passed around for everyone to admire, and Madam Luo was thoroughly pleased with herself. “I alone shot and killed three. And Madam brought down one herself. Her health is not what it was now, but when she was at her best, she could draw a three-stone bow.”
A murmur of admiration passed through the whole hall, and the gazes that turned toward Madam Wei were filled with genuine respect. It had always been this way — a woman’s own strength was her own; whatever power she borrowed through her husband was never truly hers. All along, the respect others had shown Madam Wei had come from the fact that she was the marchioness — outwardly courteous to her face, while privately circulating every criticism they could muster: her banquets were so rough and artless, she had no political sense, she had been in Lu Wanyang’s grip without even knowing it, letting herself be used as a stepping stone to elevate Lu Wanyang’s own status…
Who could have known — that she had once held the line in Yanglin City, saving an entire city’s worth of lives.
Even Wei Shanzhu herself sensed the shift in the room’s atmosphere, and found herself glancing involuntarily toward Qinglan, who was seated nearby. Yet Qinglan seemed entirely unaware of it, quietly ladling out bird’s nest congee for Han Yueqi.
In this moment, Han Yueqi’s words from earlier rang true: some people help you in a way that makes the whole world know it, so that everyone is aware of the debt you owe her. Some people help you in a way that brings out your own brilliance — they step back in quiet accomplishment and let you radiate your own light.
In that scene, Wei Shanzhu found her heart growing unexpectedly complicated.
As the gathering dispersed, she glanced involuntarily toward Ye Qinglan. She saw the Ye sisters standing in the covered walkway talking with Han Yueqi; Ye Lingbo was putting a snow cap on A’Cuo, and catching Wei Shanzhu’s glance, immediately returned it with a cold stare.
Wei Shanzhu could only lift her chin with a show of arrogance and look away. Life was always like this — regret was useless; what was done was done.
Han Yueqi had her reasons for sending the Ye sisters off early. Now that the Shen Family had weathered the crisis, the matters to follow were affairs of the inner household. The Ye sisters were unmarried young ladies — no matter how things unfolded, involving themselves in another family’s domestic matters could never end well for them. As their friend, she felt she should take the initiative to extricate them and spare them from being caught in any fallout.
But Lingbo could not hold back after all. As she was stepping into the carriage, she leaned close and said in a low voice, “Sister Han — don’t let him off lightly.”
Han Yueqi was actually amused.
“Good — I won’t let him off.”
She smiled when she said it, but anyone with clear eyes could see the exhausted weariness beneath that smile — and what could she do even if she didn’t let him off? The legitimate daughter of the Assistant Director of the Court of Imperial Entertainments — was she really to marry again? Besides, the Shen Family had been so genuinely good to her; could she truly storm out in righteous anger and leave behind everything she had built for someone else to inherit?
And to whom would she remarry? She would most likely end up with someone no better than Shen Yunze anyway. While her parents were alive, her family home was truly her home; once her parents were gone, however dear her brothers might be, their wives were still there.
It was just as Shen Biwei had raged: the rules of this world were most hateful of all — they drove women to have no home to call their own, to be an outsider no matter where they went.
But Han Yueqi had her own way. As she was boarding the carriage, Qinglan pressed her hand, and looked at her with a long, deep gaze.
Han Yueqi understood her meaning.
Everyone called them poised and magnanimous; everyone said they were the exemplars of noble daughters from the great families of the capital. They had been born here and raised here; from childhood this was all they had been taught. If even they could not manage situations like this, then no one in the capital could.
They said Han Yueqi was the model of what a great family’s daughter should be. Then let them see what this great family’s daughter was capable of.
After Han Yueqi hosted the Spring Welcome Banquet, she was naturally busy until late into the night before it finally dispersed. She retired to Shen Xiang Pavilion to sleep, and in the morning, Nanny Shen from Madam Shen’s side came to call on her. She arrived with a smile plastered across her face: “Madam has sent me to ask — did the Young Mistress sleep well last night? The Spring Welcome Banquet was exhausting work; there is no need to pay your morning respects for the next few days.”
Han Yueqi of course understood what she meant. She continued eating her breakfast and asked, “I heard that the Young Master has been made to kneel in the study as punishment. How is he today? Though the Master is angry, his health matters most — we must not let him damage his health over this.”
“I heard he knelt until the third night watch before being allowed to rise. He wasn’t allowed to return to Shen Xiang Pavilion either, and only slept fitfully in the small study. With the weather so cold, I fear he may have done lasting harm to his health.” Nanny Shen said.
Han Yueqi naturally understood the implication — this was already as far as it would go. They could hardly actually beat their own son to death over “a small matter,” especially when he was a brilliant scholar with boundless prospects. So she went along with it graciously: “Nanny is right — I was just thinking of going to plead with the Master on his behalf. It is fortunate the Master has not been too harsh with the punishment; otherwise the Young Master would truly have had to suffer greatly.”
These words left Nanny Shen looking rather sheepish. Madam Shen herself was not too bad, but Nanny Shen was the former head steward’s wife who had watched Shen Yunze grow up, her own sister having served as Shen Yunze’s wet nurse — so her affection for him was exceptional. She had been up at the crack of dawn persuading Madam Shen until Madam Shen relented, and then had come in person to find Han Yueqi, intending to say a few words in Shen Yunze’s favor.
Han Yueqi’s words had actually been restrained enough, but Han Niangzi’s were far more stinging: “Nanny Shen, there is something I’m not sure I should say. You were not in the hall yesterday and did not see what happened — it wasn’t just our Young Mistress who was shaken; even Madam Shen was frightened out of her wits. And our Madam goes without saying — tears came to her eyes, and she was calling out to go and reason with Madam Shen. To speak plainly — our Young Mistress is also of noble upbringing; when has she ever been subjected to humiliation like this? As the saying goes, when a family lives in harmony, all things prosper. A family only grows better when its members support one another. Where in the capital will you find a son-in-law like this — one who publicly undermines his own wife? “
Even opera audiences know the convention — the young mistress is invariably gentle and demure, soft-hearted and kind, while it is the maidservant who is fierce, berating people day in and day out, sharp-tongued and relentless.
Han Yueqi did not have such a sharp tongue; Han Niangzi more than compensated for her. Every word she said was aimed squarely at Nanny Shen’s heart: she referred to Madam Shen as “Madam Shen,” addressed Han Yueqi as “our Young Mistress,” called Han Yueqi’s mother “our Madam” — the very form of address already drawing a clear line between two separate households. She even turned the very rhetoric of “harmony in the family” — the kind of argument Nanny Shen might have used to pull rank — and wielded it instead as a condemnation of Shen Yunze, line by line.
Nanny Shen had been away from the battlefield too long; she was hopelessly out of practice. Refuted at every turn and left with nothing to say, she could only manage an awkward smile: “All that may be true, but the Madam and Master truly do hold the Young Mistress in high regard.”
“It is precisely because the Madam and Master hold our Young Mistress in high regard that our Young Mistress stayed,” Han Niangzi retorted. “If she hadn’t, she would have left with our Madam last night. With what the Young Master did, and the Young Mistress then also departing — the Censorate would not have known what to make of the Young Master, and his position in the Hanlin Academy would be finished. I say this in the Young Master’s own interest,” said Han Niangzi, knowing Nanny Shen was old and easily frightened, and letting each word land with force: “There is an unpleasant truth — it has always been said that a too-indulgent mother breeds a ruined son. The Young Master has grown far too headstrong of late. There are long years of life ahead of him; if he does not correct his temperament now, there will be plenty of opportunities to suffer for it later. Think about it carefully, Nanny — is that not the truth of it?”
Nanny Shen had been spoken straight to the heart and found no ground to argue from. She could only flush and say, “Since the Young Mistress has forgiven the Young Master, this old servant won’t disturb you further. I will go report back to Madam now.”
Even Nanny Shen had received such a dressing-down before being sent on her way; the others needed no further telling. Master Shen, though he felt for his son, also thought taking a concubine was no great matter — but the inner household’s affairs were for the inner household to manage, and it was not his place to intervene. So in the end, not a single person came to escort Shen Yunze out; Nanny Shen arranged for two older servant women, and they helped Shen Yunze — who had knelt until his legs were numb and deadened — limp his way back.
Shen Yunze himself knew he had done wrong. Even if he hadn’t known, Shen Biwei had made sure he knew — and she had arrived early, knowing that Han Yueqi would certainly make Shen Yunze answer for his behavior today. She planted herself at the entrance of Shen Xiang Pavilion, her face cold as she said, “Shen Yunze — have you the face to come back? Why did you not just sleep at Lu Wanyang’s household? You call yourself someone who has read the words of the sages, and you have learned how to be a client of pleasure houses — you have soiled every sage who ever put brush to paper!”
Shen Yunze’s face went scarlet. “What business is this of yours? Is this the kind of thing an unmarried young lady ought to be saying?”
“Don’t make me sick. You — you dare comment on what an unmarried young lady should say. My sister-in-law is a proper lady through and through — gentle and virtuous, what has she ever done to deserve this from you? If not for her strength and the way she salvaged what you made of things, our entire family would have become a laughingstock. A faithless, disrespectful wretch like you — you dare speak of unmarried young ladies?”
Shen Biwei rarely resorted to cursing, but she had spent long enough listening to Ye Lingbo to have absorbed plenty. Even at a mere two-tenths of Lingbo’s full strength, she reduced Shen Yunze to such a state of helpless indignation that he could only fume in silence.
Han Niangzi, though grateful to Shen Biwei, knew that in countless households, sisters-in-law were a plague — and in-laws were blind, only ever siding with their sons, joining forces to make life miserable for the daughter-in-law. A sister-in-law like this was already the finest one could hope for.
Yet in the end, a husband and wife’s affairs were something an outsider genuinely could not help with. Just as it was now — Shen Biwei had shamed Shen Yunze to the point where he had no ground left to stand on, but she had also made it impossible for him to climb down gracefully. Had it been just the two of them, Shen Yunze might have brought himself to speak some soft and yielding words; now that was entirely out of the question.
So Shen Yunze, in his rage, declared: “Don’t go pinning things on me. Having three wives and four concubines is human nature — which household in the capital isn’t like this? How does that make me faithless and disrespectful?”
The moment those words left his mouth, Han Yueqi’s gaze went cold. Shen Yunze immediately felt it. And Shen Biwei’s fury blazed.
“I think you have lost your mind.” She immediately rolled up her sleeves. “Master Shen can’t bring himself to really punish you — but I can. Think about what our mother’s days have looked like, what we watched grow up seeing — and you have the nerve to call having three wives and four concubines a good thing? Or did you forget the times that other courtyard schemed against you and had Master Shen beat you until you couldn’t get out of bed?”
Shen Biwei, when she said she would hit someone, meant it — and it was not as though she had not done it before. Of the two siblings, she was the one cast from the same mold as the Duke of Yongguo; Shen Yunze was actually the gentler one, more like Master Shen. So she had not spared him a few beatings when they were growing up — it was only after they were older that she had eased off and been willing to play somewhat the role of a proper noble young lady, so the physical altercations had become less frequent.
Had Han Niangzi and the maids Lv Yue and Bai Rui not rushed in to hold her back, Shen Yunze would almost certainly not have been spared that beating.
Han Yueqi had not allowed the Ye sisters to get involved, so naturally she was not going to let Shen Biwei stand up for her either. She understood that while the Shen Family currently indulged Shen Biwei, they would ultimately indulge her as their daughter. Both of them had been daughters themselves; she knew perfectly well the difference between how a great family treated its daughters and its sons. Just as her mother truly did love her enough to weep — that was real — but from beginning to end, her mother had never suggested bringing her home, and that too was real.
Though of course she had no need of it.
Yesterday at the banquet — though it had been for the purpose of drawing out Madam Wei — she had listened, and found herself genuinely rapt. If she had been the one in Yanglin City, how would she have responded?
Fortunately, she also had her own battle to fight.