This world — she must ultimately face it herself.
Minglan understood very clearly that the advantages of living in the Hall of Longevity went beyond improved food, clothing, and living arrangements — they meant a comfortable rhythm of life, free from dependence on others’ goodwill and from watching others’ expressions, where she could be carefree and unguarded. In all the years she had lived in the Hall of Longevity, she had never once suffered Wang Shi’s deliberate difficulties, had barely exchanged a few sentences with her brothers and sisters, and spent every day pressed close to Grandmother Sheng — reading, writing, or doing needlework in her presence, and sleeping in the room beside hers at night.
Whenever Rulan felt the sting of inequity, she would also try to find some trouble for Minglan — but to reach Minglan, she had to pass through layer upon layer of checkpoints: the main gate of the Hall of Longevity, then Nanny Fang in the central room, then Nanny Cui in the side room; and by the time she had fought her way into the Pear Blossom Chamber to corner Minglan, Grandmother Sheng would be right next door reciting sutras, and how could she possibly pick a fight under those circumstances? Minglan had even been temporarily excused from paying morning respects to Wang Shi, on the grounds that she was young and her health was delicate.
Since moving into the Hall of Longevity, not a single person had given Minglan trouble or treated her with contempt. Grandmother Sheng’s various protections were clear to Minglan, and she was deeply grateful. But with Molan’s move into the Weirui Pavilion, Minglan knew these pleasant days were nearing their end.
“…The young ladies are growing up and should each have rooms of their own. The Weirui Pavilion still has a space available — why not have Minglan move over there? It would give the sisters more time together, and once they are all married there’s no telling when they might see each other again.” On a day after Changbai’s return from his examination success, Wang Shi came to pay her respects and said this to Grandmother Sheng with a smile.
Minglan, who was writing at the inner room table, heard this and felt her heart drop. She exchanged a glance with Danju, who was grinding ink for her across the low table — Danju too gave a slight start. From the outer room came a momentary silence, with only the soft sound of Grandmother Sheng’s low cough. Then Nanny Fang smiled and said: “You speak truly. Just yesterday Grandmother mentioned to me that it was time for Sixth Young Miss to have a room of her own… And yet — you know how it is. All these years, thanks to Sixth Young Miss, the Hall of Longevity has been so lively and cheerful. Though Grandmother’s health has improved, if she were to leave…”
Nanny Fang let her voice trail off. Wang Shi looked briefly uncomfortable: “I must have been thoughtless. Grandmother’s health naturally comes first. It’s only that if others hear that Minglan alone has no room of her own, they’ll assume I’ve been harsh with her…”
Nanny Fang quickly took up the thread: “You do make a good point. And it isn’t only for the sisters to spend more time together — a young lady growing up must learn to manage her own household; it wouldn’t do to always cling to Grandmother and never grow up. So Grandmother proposed this: why not tidy up those empty rooms on the eastern side of the Hall of Longevity and have Sixth Young Miss move in there? It’s close to both the Hall of Longevity and the Weirui Pavilion — wouldn’t that be ideal?”
This suggestion suited everyone, and Wang Shi agreed at once. She immediately organized servants to begin preparing the rooms. Minglan, her heart fluttering with apprehension, came out from the inner room and went to stand before Grandmother Sheng, head lowered, holding her grandmother’s aged hand and swaying it gently to and fro. Grandmother Sheng drew the little girl up onto the kang bed, held her close, and after a long silence said quietly: “You will need to live your own life eventually — how to manage your maids and matrons, income and expenses, dealings with your brothers and sisters… Grandmother cannot stand in front of you for a lifetime.”
Minglan raised her head and looked at Grandmother Sheng’s face — lined with wrinkles, her eyes dimmed with age — and felt her heart ache suddenly. She stared fixedly, and tears fell of their own accord. She buried herself in her grandmother’s embrace: “…Minglan will be good. She will not bring shame upon Grandmother.”
The embroidery towers where young ladies lived were mostly a southern tradition. Northerners preferred spacious and open courtyards, so the separate small courtyard was the prevailing style. The small courtyard on the eastern side of the Hall of Longevity had originally been nothing more than a viewing terrace for admiring snow and gazing at the lake — not even half the size of the Weirui Pavilion. Wang Shi had it refurbished twice, but each time Grandmother Sheng looked it over and was unsatisfied, calling it too plain and unfit for habitation. When Sheng Hong learned of this, he immediately engaged bricklayers and carpenters to renovate the courtyard inside and out, repainting, varnishing, and restoring it throughout. It was not until the New Year that Grandmother Sheng finally nodded in approval, and gave word that Minglan could move in once the year turned. As a result of all this, everyone in the Sheng household knew that Sixth Young Miss Minglan was the most cherished of Grandmother Sheng’s heart — even after moving out of the Hall of Longevity, no one dared treat her lightly or with disrespect.
For this reason, Minglan spent that New Year in unusual gloom. Kowtowing before the ancestral tablets with blurry, tearful eyes; watching the fireworks only to shed two inexplicable tears; clinging to Grandmother Sheng day after day, refusing to let go; even insisting on sleeping in her grandmother’s room, and often waking with a wet face. Grandmother Sheng would see this each time and sigh, but said nothing.
After the first month of the new year was over, Grandmother Sheng chose a day of clear skies and gentle breezes. Nanny Fang assembled all the household, packed up Minglan’s belongings carefully, and the procession moved off in great numbers to the new residence. Minglan paid her farewell respects to Grandmother Sheng and left the Hall of Longevity with a backward glance at every step — that first refuge she had known in this world, perhaps the only one, where her grandmother had loved and protected her with utterly selfless devotion. But there was no one in this world who could shield her from the wind and rain for a lifetime. This world — she must ultimately face it herself.
The day before moving, Minglan carried the newly finished fan case to find Sheng Changbai, to ask him to name her new courtyard. In truth, she had a whole belly full of fine names — Xiaoxiang Pavilion, Alpinia Court, Autumn Freshness Studio, Rice Fragrance Village, Reed Snow Shelter — each more elaborate and flowery than the last. But then she thought of the fates of those ill-starred women associated with those names, and decided it was better not to invite such ill omens.
Elder Brother Changbai collected his writing fee and immediately set his thoughts flowing. With one flourish of his brush — Mu Cang Zhai — the Studio of Dusk and Green.
The Studio of Dusk and Green had one large room with a south-facing northern exposure. Minglan made the central room the main hall, serving as a reception room; the left side room became the bedroom; the right side room became the study. On each side of the main room was an ear room; front and back were covered verandas where the maids and matrons would sleep. The place was very close to the Hall of Longevity — essentially enveloped within the garden surrounding it, connected to the Hall of Longevity by a covered corridor. If Minglan were to cry out from here, Grandmother Sheng could hear it and come running at once. Grandmother’s loving thoughtfulness moved Minglan deeply.
The standard furnishings for the sixth young miss of the Sheng household were: one Nanny Cui, two senior maids, four to six junior maids, and a variable number of miscellaneous young servants in the outer rooms. This was far less in arrangement than Molan or Rulan — but the Studio of Dusk and Green was simply small to begin with, and Minglan was afraid that more people meant more disputes, so she was happy to keep the number modest under the banner of being unpretentious. Besides, Sheng Hong had always been scrupulous about his official reputation and would not permit extravagance, so the monthly allowance for the Sheng young ladies was two taels of silver. This was the stated figure, however — in actual practice, Rulan had Wang Shi’s private supplement, Molan had Lin Yiniang’s backing, and Grandmother Sheng sent Minglan an additional monthly payment. Everyone tacitly understood the arrangement.
On the day of the move, Grandmother Sheng presided in the main hall while brothers and sisters all came to offer their congratulations. Elder Brother Changbai sent a lustrous Ru-ware flower vase with a few sprigs of fresh red plum tucked inside; Rulan gifted a carved and painted marble brush holder with birds and flowers; Changfeng sent a complete set of the Records of Mountains and Seas; Molan brought a pair of handwritten couplets for the doorway and an original brushwork painting of an old fisherman at his line. Finally, little Changdong came forward shyly with his gift: a full set of four-season bed curtains, hand-embroidered by Xiang Yiniang — spring, summer, autumn, and winter in pink, jade green, blue, and apricot, each adorned with vivid seasonal birds, flowers, fish, and insects, exquisitely crafted. Looking at Changdong’s bashful, self-conscious expression, Minglan leaned over and whispered in his ear: “Tell Yiniang I love them dearly.”
Little Changdong’s face immediately brightened with joy.
The very next morning, Minglan broke her usual habit and did not sleep in — she rose early, went to the Hall of Longevity for the morning greeting as always, then returned to the Studio of Dusk and Green. When she saw Grandmother Sheng, whose eyelids were also swollen, the two of them clung to each other for a long bout of tender exchange. Grandmother Sheng looked Minglan over from head to toe with the eyes of someone who felt as if her granddaughter had been away one night and had lost several pounds of flesh, asking with worried insistence: did the warm sleeping alcove let in any draft? Was the underfloor heating warm enough? How well was the bed heater burning?
Wang Shi sat to one side, teacup in hand, her expression rather complicated. In the years before the rupture between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, she had played the role of a dutiful daughter-in-law for a time. In truth, Grandmother Sheng was a person quite difficult to please — of proud and aloof character: a few too many smiles and Grandmother found one noisy; too much attentiveness and she found it tiresome; too much caring concern and she felt one was interfering with her. Even Lin Yiniang, who had been raised beside her in those early days, had never been shown any particular warmth. So Wang Shi had at the time been unwilling to send Rulan to the Hall of Longevity to suffer the cold treatment. What incense this sixth girl had burned to win such extraordinary favor, she truly could not fathom. When Nanny Liu Kun had earlier advised her that Minglan should be moved out, she hadn’t taken it to heart — but thinking it over now, there had indeed been sense in it.
If she were eventually required to register Minglan under her own name, she would have to assume the role of proper stepmother — cultivating the relationship where appropriate, guiding and instructing as needed. Besides, now that the young ladies were growing up, having Minglan constantly in the Hall of Longevity with Qi Heng coming and going so frequently was not entirely seemly. Most importantly, she had recently noticed rather suddenly that under Grandmother Sheng’s upbringing, Minglan’s conduct was proper and appropriate in every respect — her reading and needlework both had made considerable progress. By contrast, her own Rulan remained as artlessly naive and forthright as ever, still only capable of bickering with Molan and throwing temperamental fits, with no improvement at all. Moving Minglan out would give Rulan more time in her company, and perhaps some of the good influence would rub off. And lastly — Wang Shi would gain a fine name outside the household as well.
With this in mind, Wang Shi’s mood eased considerably. She raised her teacup and took a sip. Three daughters paying their morning respects did look more impressive than two.
The second day after moving into the Studio of Dusk and Green, Minglan promptly set about fulfilling her duties. After breakfast at the Hall of Longevity, she left Danju to mind the rooms, took Xiaotao and Yancao with her, and went to the main courtyard to pay her respects to Wang Shi. Her two elder sisters were already seated in the room — the kang bed draped with brocade and layered cushions before them. Molan and Rulan sat facing each other on opposite sides, exchanging occasional cool glances, like a tortoise and a bean staring each other down.
Minglan sighed inwardly and thought: So it begins. Walking to the center, she smiled: “Good day, both sisters. I see I’m a bit late.” As she spoke, she moved without any visible deliberateness to sit beside Rulan.
Molan immediately let out a cold laugh: “Sixth Sister is Grandmother’s cherished darling — what does it matter if she’s a little late? Could they possibly reprimand Sister for being a moment tardy?”
Minglan smoothed her sleeve and straightened her lapels — composing her expression as she composed herself — and said unhurriedly: “Fourth Sister has quite a fire about her so early in the morning. Hearing what Sister says, if they don’t reprimand me it shows a lack of backbone, and if they do reprimand me Grandmother would be displeased. Sister has managed to wrap two senior figures into one sentence.”
Rulan’s eyes went wide as she turned to look at Minglan, her face a picture of disbelief and hidden glee. Across from them, Molan too found herself at a momentary loss for words. Minglan, as the person transmigrated into this body, might not distinctly recall it — but Molan remembered clearly what Minglan had been like before the age of five: how utterly meek and easily pushed around. She had ordered her about and bossed her more than once, and Rulan had called and shouted at her countless times too. But after Minglan was taken into the Hall of Longevity, the sisters had barely spent time together for years; when they did meet, it was only a few courteous exchanges. In Molan’s memory, Minglan had always been extremely docile and simple, in a dazed, foolish sort of way.
Molan’s gaze suddenly sharpened: “You — what did you say? How dare you slander me like this!”
Minglan laughed inwardly. Just like Lin Yiniang — Molan too was all outward softness and inward steel. If she were truly soft, she would not have risen to her current position in the household. Minglan gave a shallow smile: “Oh, so I misunderstood — Fourth Sister did not wish to have me reprimanded after all.”
Molan burned with inward fury, and Rulan’s mouth fell open, heart leaping with delight, already gleefully hooking her arm through Minglan’s: “Sixth Sister, you’ve always had your health to consider, and Grandmother excused you from paying respects to Mother. Coming for the first time today, being a little late is perfectly fine! Earlier, Xiang Yiniang served Mother breakfast, and then Nanny Liu came to speak with Mother on some matter — all the Yiniangs were called in as well. They still haven’t come out yet. It’s no trouble at all!”
The enemy of one’s enemy is one’s friend — a principle Wang Shi had passed down to Rulan. In ordinary circumstances, Rulan lost seven bouts out of ten in her bickering with Molan. But now, with an ally descended from nowhere, her spirits immediately soared. Minglan understood full well all the angles at play here, but she knew that the greatest mistake in choosing sides was to be an obvious fence-sitter. With Wei Yiniang’s death before her as a precedent, she and Lin Yiniang’s faction would never be on good terms.
Rulan, having found a comrade-in-arms, pulled Minglan along chattering about this and that — saying the fresh meat buns that had just come in were delicious and she’d send some to Minglan later; saying she had just received a copy of the Nine-Nine Cold Relief Painting and wanted to look at it together with Minglan: “When we were little, Sixth Sister and I used to live together, but after you went to the Hall of Longevity we weren’t so close anymore. It would be wonderful if we could live together.”
Molan had long since smoothed her anger back into composure. She stirred her tea leaves languidly with the cup lid, and said with an air of cool amusement: “Fifth Sister really is joking. Sixth Sister lives splendidly beside Grandmother — how would she ever agree to come to the Weirui Pavilion? Ah — speaking of which, I myself have no such luck, unable to enter the Hall of Longevity in the first place. But Fifth Sister fares far better than both of us — so why couldn’t Grandmother cast an eye on you either?”
In a battle of polished wordplay, Rulan was indeed no match for Molan. This kind of refined verbal sparring routinely caught Rulan off guard, and indeed this one remark had found its mark — she clutched Minglan’s arm tightly. Minglan commiserated with her own aching arm and said: “Fourth Sister is really amusing. Back then, Fifth Sister and Grandmother shared a mother-daughter bond so deep that separating them would have been unkind. But as for Fourth Sister — you are so devotedly filial to your own mother. It’s precisely because Grandmother couldn’t bear to pull apart such tender bonds of mother and child that she chose me instead.”
Rulan immediately grasped the cue and burst out laughing: “Exactly — Fourth Sister is so devotedly filial to Lin Yiniang and couldn’t bear to leave her! But Grandmother’s heart was too soft to separate you!” Her grip on Minglan immediately relaxed, and Minglan hurriedly retrieved her poor little chubby arm.
Molan rose to her feet, looked straight at Minglan, and said word by word: “How dare you speak so of your elders and your sisters?”
Minglan smiled calmly back: “How have I spoken? Fourth Sister, do point out where I erred — say it plainly, so your sister can correct herself.” If you can manage to find a single fault in what I said.
The old judge in her past life had once remarked: the courtroom is a legally designated venue for cornering people. Every argument proceeds on clauses and regulations, ostensibly speaking to matters rather than to persons — yet in truth speaking entirely to persons. You fight the lawsuit through the person, and the other side cannot produce a single word in response. The handsome lawyer she had admired in those days could drive plaintiffs to the brink of collapse and back to life again, all while maintaining a face of utter sincerity and gravity.
Molan stared at Minglan with unconcealed surprise, her fine eyes wide open. Minglan met her gaze steadily. She had not deliberately sought a quarrel with Molan — but Molan had walked in the door and immediately been overbearing and relentless, pressing with pointed, veiled barbs at every turn. If Minglan showed weakness now, she would be dismissed not only by Molan but also by Rulan, and would have to prepare herself for a lifetime of bullying ahead. By showing her claws, she was simply making clear: I do not provoke others, but I will not be provoked without consequence. I may have no blood relatives or Yiniang to protect me, but I am not without all recourse.
The two girls held each other’s gaze, sparks flying silently between them. Rulan watched with great excitement, her eyes gleaming. Then Minglan gently looked away, affected an expression of slight alarm, and rose to stand before Molan. She curtsied prettily and said in a compliant, gentle tone: “It was all my fault. If I hadn’t come late, I wouldn’t have ended up speaking out of turn with Sister. Fourth Sister, please don’t be angry — your sister apologizes.”
Rulan cursed Minglan’s lack of backbone in her heart — what little staying power she had, caving in after such a short while — and immediately rolled up her sleeve preparing to enter the fray. Just at that moment, the door curtain outside was lifted by a maidservant: “Mistress has arrived.”