After Sheng Lao had finished asking each of her grandchildren their question, she said she was tired and sent the children and their parents home so that she could rest. Sheng Hong had been about to put in a word or two on Molan’s behalf, but could only swallow it and return to his own quarters.
He had barely returned to his room, had not yet even changed and washed, when a sudden visitor arrived — Nanny Fang, the Elder’s personal attendant. Sheng Hong and his wife hurriedly welcomed her inside. Nanny Fang was an old hand in the household, and she spoke with crisp efficiency, stating her purpose in just a word or two: the Elder wanted to have Miss Minglan.
At these words, the two of them were immediately transported to opposite ends of the world. Wang Shi was overjoyed beyond measure — she could have gone right then and lit a stick of incense in thanksgiving. Sheng Hong, on the other hand, felt a pang of despondency; he concluded that the Elder was, in the end, unwilling to look kindly upon Lin Yiniang.
“My lord, the Elder has received your filial heart in full, and here, on the Elder’s behalf, I convey her thanks… We would ask you to find a convenient moment to arrange Miss Minglan’s things. When you send word, I will come to collect her.”
Nanny Fang was, as always, brisk and businesslike; having said what she came to say, she gave a bow and took her leave.
“What does the Elder mean by this? Among our girls, aside from Hua’er, it is Molan who is the eldest — naturally the elder sister should bear the greater share of the responsibility. Surely she would not send a child who is both ignorant and sickly?” Sheng Hong opened his arms for Wang Shi to help him out of his outer garment, still turning the matter over and unable to make sense of it. “Not to mention that Molan has been attending on the Elder every single day for quite some time now, and everyone says she is devoted and considerate — what is it that the Elder is still hesitating over?”
Wang Shi was in perfectly cheerful spirits and smiled as she replied: “The Elder is making a selection for herself. What you think is of no consequence — it has to be something she herself is willing to accept. I often tell Hua’er to wear brighter colours because it makes her look more vivid and fresh, but she insists on pale colours herself. My lord — in all things, it must be done willingly, from the heart. You cannot simply decide something is good and impose it, and then expect the Elder, out of deference to you, to accept it without inward reluctance. So please do set your mind at ease: whichever child the Elder chooses — are they not all your daughters? Now that the Elder has spoken, you simply follow her word. She is satisfied, you have been filially devoted, is that not an outcome that pleases everyone? And besides, the Elder is kind-hearted and merciful — she must have seen that Wei Yiniang died young, that Minglan is frail and in a daze about the world, and decided to raise her up a little. That is very possibly the reasoning.”
Sheng Hong found this explanation quite plausible; the more he thought about it, the higher he rated the probability. Even so, no matter how much he wished to elevate Molan, he could not compel the Elder to accept her. But Lin Yiniang and he were, after all, truly in love, and Molan was in some sense a crystallization of that love; for the sake of that crystallization, he resolved to make one more attempt.
The next morning, the moment Sheng Lao was out of bed — Nanny Fang was just lifting a white porcelain open-mouthed bowl with silver-thread longevity-pattern inlay to serve the Elder her morning bird’s nest congee — when the maid outside called in to report: “The master has come.” The maid then held aside the thick indigo pile felt door curtain to let Sheng Hong enter. Sheng Lao gave him a sidelong glance, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly, and she had Nanny Fang take away the congee and pastries.
“What brings you here so early? It is cold — you should sleep in longer,” Sheng Lao said once Sheng Hong had bowed and been seated.
Sheng Hong said respectfully: “After Nanny Fang left last evening, I lay thinking the whole night through and still feel the matter is not right. I know the Elder’s intention is to show compassion to Minglan — but you yourself are still not fully recovered. If you were to add a small child who is ignorant and knows nothing, how could I feel at ease? Would it not be better to let Molan come instead? She is sensible and well-behaved, and what she says and does is appropriate; she would also be well-suited to attending on you. What does the Elder say?”
“The matter is not appropriate,” Sheng Lao said with a shake of her head. “Your intentions are good, but you have not thought it through fully. A child is the very flesh of a mother’s heart. When I had Hualan brought to live with me, it was no more than three days before your daughter-in-law had lost a full circle of weight — she was nearly unrecognizable. She did not dare say a word of complaint, but inside she was burning as though over a slow flame. I have been a mother myself; how would I not know? And so even though you had been registered under my name, I still had Chun Yiniang raise you. True — as the formal mother, a stepmother — the children are expected to respect and obey; but that bond of blood and flesh cannot be severed. To have Molan leave Lin Yiniang at such a tender age — I genuinely cannot bear it. Besides — was it not you who used the argument of the bond between mother and child to refuse to let me raise Molan in the first place? How is it that you are so willing now?” She gave Sheng Hong a sidelong look.
Sheng Hong managed a thin smile: “The Elder is quite right about that. But Minglan…”
Sheng Lao took the thread from him with a calm and measured tone: “Where Minglan is now, the care is adequate. But what with managing the household and seeing to Hualan’s trousseau and attending to both Rulan and Changbai, there is simply too much for one person to manage. And in any case, she is not Minglan’s birth mother — naturally she must sometimes hold herself back and restrain herself. Coming to me would work well for both sides.”
Sheng Hong was left with nothing to say, and gave a dry laugh: “The Elder has thought of everything. I only fear that Minglan’s ignorance will tire you, and then the fault will be entirely mine.”
Sheng Lao said quietly: “Ignorant?… I would not be so certain.”
Sheng Hong was puzzled: “Oh? How so?”
Sheng Lao let out a mild sigh and turned her head to the side. Nanny Fang, reading the sign, smiled and picked up the thread: “It is quite a sad story. Not long after you arrived in Dengzhou — the first time you brought your wife and children to pay respects to the Elder — after breakfast, all the other young masters and misses had been taken away by their respective nannies and maids, but Sixth Young Miss’s nanny had gone off to have her own tea. And so the young miss was left to wait and wander about on her own. In the course of wandering, she found her way into the Elder’s Buddha hall. When I went to find her, I saw her prostrated on the prayer cushion before the image of Guanyin — the poor little thing was pressing down the sound of her crying, not daring to let it out in full, only silently choking back her sobs.”
Sheng Lao said in a low voice: “Everyone assumed she was simple. Yet it turns out she understands everything perfectly well. It is only that her heart is full of grief — grief she cannot speak out loud, and so she can only steal away to weep before the Bodhisattva in secret.”
Sheng Hong thought of Wei Yiniang, and something in his chest constricted; he lowered his head in private sorrow. Sheng Lao glanced at him, then said with a slight edge of irony: “I know your heart has given more than half of itself to Lin Yiniang. But Molan is clever and sharp-witted herself, and she has such a capable mother to look out for her — you could spare her a little less attention without her losing anything. It is the Sixth Girl who is the truly helpless and defenceless one. For the sake of Wei Yiniang, who died before her time, you ought to look after this child more — she is the one who truly has no one to depend on.”
Sheng Hong was left without a word to say.
After Sheng Hong was seen out, Nanny Fang helped the Elder settle onto the kang by the window to rest. She could not help saying: “What a pity for the Fourth Young Miss. Whatever one may say about Lin Yiniang, she herself is a fine child.”
Sheng Lao gave a small smile: “Once bitten by a snake, twice shy — I have learned to be wary of those bright and clever girls. Their minds are sharp and their thoughts run deep; before I have finished following one thought through to its conclusion, their minds have already run through seventeen or eighteen twists and turns. An artless, slow-witted child is far less exhausting. And besides — she is not truly simple, is she? You said yourself that the other day you heard her murmuring before the Buddha, thinking of her mother. A child who can grieve for and miss her departed mother — she has a feeling heart. It is her, then.”
…
Wang Shi was in high spirits; things had moved exactly in the direction she had most hoped for. The fox spirit had not gotten her way; Rulan would not have to leave her side; and she had managed to pass off an awkward nuisance that was burning no one’s hands. Dengzhou was truly a good place — fine feng shui, bringing her fortune! And so the very next morning she was up before dawn, directing her maids and matrons to pack up Minglan’s things, intending to send her across right after the morning greeting.
In all the bustle, Hualan sat with imposing authority on the kang while little Minglan perched on a low stool, listening to her eldest sister’s instructions: no sleeping past sunrise, no shirking on exercise, no being late to pay respects, no allowing herself to be bullied… Hualan spoke a sentence, Minglan agreed to it; she was still drowsy in the morning, and Hualan was running on without pause, relentless as a sutra-chanting monk. Minglan could not help marveling — here was a girl of only fourteen or fifteen, and somehow she was more nagging than the floor-supervisor aunties at her university dormitory back in her previous life. Truly a remarkable specimen.
“Did you hear me? What are you in a daze about?” Hualan’s finger, slender as a green onion, tapped Minglan on the forehead.
Minglan startled out of her reverie and murmured softly: “He must really be blessed, to have an Elder Sister who takes such devoted care of him.”
“Who?” Hualan didn’t catch it.
“Elder Brother-in-law, of course.” Minglan widened her eyes as much as she could, with her most blank and innocent expression.
The maids and matrons bustling around the room all pressed their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter. Hualan went scarlet to the roots of her ears — one part wanting to tear Minglan to pieces, one part wanting to flee outside in embarrassment. Minglan blinked up at her, utterly guileless, her posture and expression both conveying: what did I say wrong?
Wang Shi, in her state of exhilaration, was also generous with her hands: to demonstrate what a thoroughly virtuous and kind-hearted mother she was, she sent Minglan off with over a dozen bolts of the finest fabric — damask, velvet, brushed wool, thin silk, silk gauze, gossamer weave, cut-work damask… Since she had simply taken them directly from Hualan’s trousseau materials, they were of extremely good quality. She also gave Minglan several small gold and silver ornaments that had recently been made up for Rulan — loading them on Minglan until she was draped from head to toe.
After the morning greeting, Minglan was led by a matron to see her new room; Rulan came hopping along after them. Wang Shi and Hualan stayed behind to continue talking with the Elder. Wang Shi performed like a salesperson delivering goods to the door, and being anxious about returns, she went on without stopping to sing Minglan’s praises to Sheng Lao — how honest and simple she was, how obedient and sensible — until even Hualan could no longer sit still and laughed: “Elder, you see how she is — terrified you won’t want Sixth Sister, so she’s doing her level best to praise her.”
The whole room of mistress and servants laughed. Sheng Lao had always been most fond of Hualan’s sharp and ready tongue, and she smiled and said: “You wicked little thing — even your own mother isn’t spared from your teasing. You watch out, or she’ll dock your trousseau, and then you’ll have nowhere to go to cry.”
Hualan’s face went red all over again, and she turned away without speaking. Wang Shi’s face was wreathed in smiles: “The Elder is right to say so. I worry this girl has been too unrestrained at home and will embarrass herself when she goes to her husband’s family.”
Sheng Lao shifted slightly to face Wang Shi, and said with gravity: “That is precisely what I wish to speak about. Since Hualan’s betrothal was settled, I have already written to old friends and sisterly acquaintances in the capital, asking them to recommend a reliable and seasoned propriety instructress — one of those older women who has served in the palace, who has refinement and knows the rules and is also learned and well-read — to come to our household and help teach Hualan proper conduct and manners. I only hope you will not think me overstepping my place.”
Wang Shi was overjoyed and immediately rose and knelt deeply before the Elder, her voice trembling with emotion: “The Elder’s foresight is beyond measure — this is precisely what I had been worrying about. If Hualan were marrying into a family of similar standing in the official class, it would be one thing; but the family she is marrying into is an earldom. Even though our family is of some standing in the world, those noble hereditary households have elaborate rules and endless protocols that ordinary families would have no way of learning. To say nothing of Zhong’qin Earl’s household itself — even in future, the families they will associate with will be predominantly royal households and the houses of great nobility. And Hualan has such a direct and candid nature; I have always been anxious that she might not know the right way to behave and be looked down upon. The Elder has resolved the great trouble weighing on my heart today — I must kneel and give thanks! Come, Hua’er — come here and kneel before the Elder!”
As Wang Shi spoke, the tears began to fall. Hualan hurried over, but before she could kneel, Sheng Lao caught her up into her arms. The Elder gestured to Nanny Fang to help Wang Shi to her feet, while she held her eldest granddaughter close, looking at her with deep and tender feeling, her voice choking slightly: “You are a girl of good fortune. Your father looked into your marriage from every direction — that young man’s character and capability are both commendable. Above you, you will have the protection of an old marquis; below you, you will have your husband and his family. When the time comes, you must be sensible and obedient, and when that proprietress arrives in a few days, you must study your rules and etiquette properly — how to conduct yourself so that you will command respect in your husband’s household. Ah… I remember when you were no bigger than a pillow — and now here you are, ready to be married…”
Hualan held herself back, but the tears came anyway: “Old Ancestress — please rest easy. I will take good care of myself. And you must look after your health as well — your granddaughter intends to come and visit you often.”
Sheng Lao felt the sorrow of parting acutely; she gave Nanny Fang a nod. Nanny Fang retrieved from inside a large, flat wooden box — the wood had clearly been kept for many years, but the corners were inlaid with interlocking gold ring-and-cloud-dragon patterns that gleamed magnificently. Nanny Fang placed the box on the kang, and Sheng Lao took it and said to Hualan: “Your trousseau has been years in the making back in Quanzhou — your parents have put their whole heart into it and there is nothing missing. This ruby and red gold set of ornaments was sent with me when I was married; today I give it to you.”
The box was opened, and the room was flooded at once with a blaze of gold brilliance. The yellow gold was a clear and vivid amber — clearly cleaned just recently — and the rubies were large and lustrous, every one as big as a thumb, deep red and fiery, blazing and radiant. Even Wang Shi, who had grown up surrounded by wealth, was startled and found herself unable to look away; Hualan was equally stunned into silence for a breath.
Nanny Fang smiled and pressed the box into Hualan’s hands: “Eldest Young Miss, please accept it quickly. Those rubies came, in their time, from a kingdom to the west, from the great snowy mountains — old Marquis himself obtained them, had them crafted into a complete set of ornaments as part of the Elder’s bridal trousseau. From the crown of the head to the shoulders to the wrists — a total of eighteen stones, each one set into red gold by hand with the greatest precision and care. Two teams of master craftsmen worked for three full months to complete the set. It would not be out of place worn at court to present oneself before the noble ladies. Eldest Young Miss — this is the Elder’s most heartfelt gift; please accept it quickly.”
Hualan was moved beyond words; she buried her face in the Elder’s embrace and wept — crying and giving thanks all at once. Wang Shi, standing to one side, was also wiping her eyes, and the tears this time were absolutely genuine.
…
The matter of the Elder taking in Sixth Young Miss had been settled, and within a single morning it had spread throughout the entire Sheng household. Lin Yiniang, upon hearing the news, dashed a teacup to the floor on the spot. Molan sat to one side, wiping her eyes, crying with tears streaming freely: “I told you not to go, I told you not to go, and you insisted on making me go — and now look: we’ve made a complete fool of ourselves!”
The personal maids standing nearby did not dare utter a sound. The whole of the Sheng household knew that for the past few days Molan had been devotedly attending on the Elder at every turn — everyone had assumed Molan would be the one chosen. For it to change course at the very last moment — this was an enormous loss of face.
Lin Yiniang stood in the center of the room, her ornaments disheveled, her delicate features twisted into a hard, ugly expression. She said with venom: “Hmph — that dead old woman has neither money nor assets, and she’s not even the master’s real mother — who does she think she is, putting on such airs? She doesn’t want you — we wouldn’t stoop to beg for her favor! Just wait and see — see how far she can strut around!”