When Wang Shi learned that the Hall of Longevity had sent another senior maid over, she pondered in silence for a long while, then gave a cold laugh: “The old woman has a tight grip indeed.”
Nanny Liu Kun quickly tried to counsel her: “Please don’t do anything rash — the old woman is giving you a signal. As she always says: she understands perfectly well. If you keep things fair and equal, she won’t shortchange the fourth young miss either. Just look at how she dotes on the eldest young miss — sending letters to the capital every few days to inquire, because after all she is her own granddaughter. It’s just that she has pity for Wei Yiniang dying so early. Why create friction with the old woman over a maid? Getting Changbai to succeed now is the most important thing.”
Wang Shi pinched her handkerchief, her expression heavy: “Placing a couple of maids over there isn’t so bad — at least I won’t be kept entirely in the dark. I should know what needs to be known. But only to a point.”
The matter was not yet finished. That very afternoon, two more girls were brought to the Studio of Dusk and Green — Nanny Liu Kun led them over herself, with a wry smile, explaining that this was Lin Yiniang’s request to Sheng Hong: it wouldn’t do for the younger sister to have too few servants while the elder brother lived in comfort surrounded by attendants. So two of Changfeng’s best maids had been transferred to the sixth young miss.
Sheng Hong looked at the two girls and found them indeed well-mannered and accomplished — their needlework and appearance both outstanding. He was greatly touched in the moment, and lavished praise on Lin Yiniang for her consideration and on Changfeng for his brotherly affection. Apparently much encouraged by this praise, Changfeng shut himself in his room for several days in a row and actually studied.
When the two beautiful girls — Ke’er and Mei’er, both fourteen years old, one pert and vivacious, the other coolly striking, slender and graceful with an air that caught the eye — arrived, the Studio of Dusk and Green fell into collective silence. Xiaotao, who had not seen much of the world, touched her own round, full face and stared with her mouth nearly agape. Danju looked blankly over at Minglan. Yinxing and Jiu’er exchanged a glance with each other. Cuiwei was the steadiest — she smiled and took both girls by the hand to speak with them. Minglan nearly raised her eyes to heaven in exasperation. It was truly a case of one measure of good yielding two measures of trouble. She promptly made an announcement to the outside world: the Studio of Dusk and Green was small, and though not yet staffed to full capacity, was already full to the brim. Everyone could rest assured — there were quite enough people to manage.
Looking at the two lovely girls, and thinking of her brother Changfeng’s character, Minglan almost wanted to ask: The two of you — are you still, well… uncompromised? — She had barely entertained the thought before feeling ashamed of herself.
And so the Studio of Dusk and Green became a lively place.
Jiu’er had grown up with a mother who managed household affairs, and had inherited a temperament that liked to insert itself into everything. Within a few days of arriving, she had already made herself entirely at home. The moment she saw two of the smaller maids quarreling, before Cuiwei could even speak, she had grabbed hold of one of the maids and launched into a scolding, threatening at the top of her voice to have her mother drive them both out of the inner quarters. The younger maids were reduced to tears, and Danju was displeased, feeling that Jiu’er had overstepped.
Minglan gave a wry smile: “Black cat or white cat — whichever catches the mice is a good cat.” In any case, Jiu’er had managed to put the younger maids in their place, had she not?
Yinxing was quite unassuming, diligent with her hands, but terribly fond of prying — and of rummaging through things. She kept gravitating toward Minglan’s side, full of flattering words. Danju expended enormous effort to keep her at a distance. Cuiwei reprimanded her several times: “Do you know the rules? You’ve only just arrived, and here you are barging into the young miss’s inner room — do you think her things are yours to touch? Forget about sweeping the courtyard for now — start with needlework, and stop letting your eyes wander about and digging for gossip!” Yinxing made all manner of agreeable noises, then turned around and went on exactly as before. Xiaotao was obliged to serve as a dedicated lookout. Minglan consoled herself: at least this was a trouble born of initiative. The other two were far more troubling.
One day when the weather was mild, several maids were moving things out of Minglan’s room to air them in the sun. There came a sharp crack — Mei’er had knocked over a celadon brush wash basin, shattering it across the floor. Minglan could not help saying from the heart: “Be careful — if it’s difficult, leave it and call Danju and Xiaotao to do it.” But Mei’er raised her almond eyes with a sullen tilt, lowered her head, and said in a surly tone: “It’s only a brush wash basin. In the young master’s quarters I’ve knocked over any number of precious things without the young master saying a word about it. They all say the young miss has a mild temper — I didn’t expect that…”
Minglan froze on the spot. As someone who had come from the modern world, she didn’t have particularly serious ideas about social hierarchy — but even in modern times, if you broke a roommate’s or a friend’s belongings, you would at least say sorry. The exquisite little beauty standing before her, with her haughty brows and cold eyes and that defiant expression, looked as though it was Minglan who was supposed to be soothing her.
Minglan stood there, struck speechless, not knowing what to say. Xiaotao beside her couldn’t bear it any longer and planted her hands on her hips: “What nerve you have! The young miss hasn’t even said a word yet, and you’re already casting aspersions on her! You broke something and you think you’re in the right?! That brush wash basin is part of a matching set — it was the birthday gift that the Shu Grand Elder sent the young miss two years ago from the south. Now that one is broken, the entire four-piece set of the scholar’s studio is ruined! If you like the young master’s quarters so much, what are you doing here in the Studio of Dusk and Green? If you feel wronged, leave at once. Our little temple here isn’t big enough to house a great deity like you!”
Mei’er burst into tears and left, and reportedly cried alone in her room for a full two hours before Cuiwei went in to coax her calm again.
And that was considered the better of the two troubles. Mei’er had a proud, hot temper — but at least she still performed her maid’s duties. Ke’er, on the other hand, carried herself with the airs of an idle young lady. She spent every day shut in her room cradling a volume of poetry, grieving over spring’s passing and lamenting autumn’s arrival. The tasks assigned to her went undone; if she reluctantly picked up her needlework, she would set it down after two stitches. A falling leaf could make her cry for half the day; a wild goose’s cry could inspire her to write two lines of melancholy verse in the style of “the cuckoo crying blood.” Every time one saw her, she was either working herself up to tears or already had a face full of them. Cuiwei reminded her that endlessly weeping would bring ill omens upon the mistress’s household; that very night, Ke’er stood in the garden weeping through the cold wind all night — and then fell ill.
Qinsang was gentle, Yancao was cheerful — together they exhausted every means to coax a smile from her. She refused medicine for one day and food for two, and required someone to comfort her and keep her company at all times. Luzhi finally lost patience and wanted to deal with her harshly; Danju stopped her. After some inquiries, they learned she had originally been the young daughter of a disgraced official family.
“So what? She may have been a phoenix before, but she’s a maid now, and a maid ought to do a maid’s work. Our household bought her — did we buy her to play the young lady? At this rate, we’ll all end up serving her!” Luzhi had spent the whole day watching the medicine stove for Mei’er and was still fuming.
“She was waited upon as a young lady before — now that she’s a maid, it’s only natural she would have difficulty accepting the change.” Danju took the medicine pot and filtered the dregs carefully, her expression softening with sympathy.
Bisi said in a delicate voice: “She came into the household at the same time as the rest of us — we’ve been maids for years now, and she’s still putting on young-lady airs. It’s nothing but showing off because she can write poems and paint! Hmph — who in this household doesn’t know a few characters.” Bisi was a tragic case: she was lovely, literate, and more comprehensively capable than the maids in any of the other young ladies’ rooms.
Though Molan and Rulan were as fire and water toward each other, their aesthetic sensibilities when selecting maids were curiously identical: neither wanted anyone whose looks or talent surpassed her own. Bisi had been passed over. Changfeng did favor pretty girls, but had limited spots, so he chose those who were prettier and more talented still — and Bisi was passed over again. And so she ended up at Minglan’s side.
Yancao filled the teapot with water; she had worn herself to exhaustion coaxing Ke’er and sent Qinsang to take over for a while before she could return to relieve her. After refilling her water, Yancao said with some effort: “Our young miss is really too patient — one after another, they all dare give her a hard time. If Nanny Fang were here, they’d all have eaten the ruler by now!” The younger maids around her heard this and immediately felt a wave of wistful longing for Nanny Fang’s firm hand, shaking their heads with sighs.
“The young master spoiled them completely — and now it’s our young miss who has to suffer for it!” Luzhi delivered the final verdict.
Danju was dispatched by the other sisters to convey the general feeling to Minglan, and in the end said with tactful diplomacy: “Young miss, this really can’t continue. The other maids have only just been brought into some order by Nanny Fang’s training — we can’t have it all ruined now.”
Minglan said with some difficulty: “They are people associated with our brother — I can hardly make them lose face before him. I know Mei’er has worn you all out, but… her parents are gone now. Of course she feels aggrieved and wronged.”
“Wronged?!” Cuiwei looked at Minglan with a puzzled expression. “What is the young miss saying? My father has told me that Mei’er’s father was the county magistrate of a district near Dengzhou — a thoroughly greedy man, squeezing and extorting without limit. He was dismissed, imprisoned, his property confiscated, and his household sold into servitude.” Her father was the outer estate’s head steward and personally handled all the procurement of maids and manservants for the household.
“Could it be her father was wrongly accused?” Minglan thought of the loyal ministers and virtuous generals so frequently wronged and vindicated in the period dramas she had watched.
Cuiwei had to laugh: “My dear young miss — officials get dismissed and removed from office all the time, and it’s comparatively rare for it to fall upon the family as well; it’s even rarer still to be sent to the Bureau of Entertainers. There’s no room for that many wrongful accusations! Mei’er’s father’s case is well-known to many people — he was undeniably corrupt. His daily extravagance was so great that even after the confiscation of his assets there wasn’t enough to cover what he owed, which is why the family was sold.”
Minglan was still unconvinced: “The man committed the crime — what fault is it of his wife and daughters?”
Xiaotao happened to enter the room just then. She had been watching Yinxing so vigilantly of late that her head was throbbing, and she caught the last two sentences without patience: “Young miss — the silks and satins on a corrupt official’s family, the delicacies in their mouths — that’s all extracted from the common people’s flesh and blood. How many ordinary families were driven to ruin by her father, forced into selling their own children just to survive? What’s wrong with the daughter paying a father’s debt? Getting into our household is actually her good fortune.”
Minglan fell into sheepish silence. She couldn’t be blamed — that was how all the dramas had portrayed it. Complaints aside, Minglan inclined toward keeping the peace, and thought to slowly educate them along the way — things would gradually improve through influence and example. But then events moved faster than plans.
One morning, Elder Brother Changbai came to make his inspection of the Studio of Dusk and Green. Minglan had promised him a pair of cotton shoes, and the finished product was at last ready for delivery, so he had come to collect. Minglan went personally to receive him. Changbai had barely taken a few steps inside the gate when he saw a coolly striking little beauty holding a broom, sweeping the ground. Changbai found her an unfamiliar face and looked at her a moment longer — only for her to tilt up her chin, give a cold “hmph,” and turn away with a haughty and dazzling expression. Changbai immediately frowned, and said to Minglan: “Why are your servants so lacking in propriety? You really should exercise more discipline.”
Mei’er, burning with shame and fury, set down the broom and went inside. Minglan was very embarrassed.
They walked a few more steps into the courtyard, where they encountered a frail, willow-soft young girl leaning against a corridor pillar, softly reciting poetry. Changbai listened — it was the verse beginning “Your green robes haunt my thoughts, I long for you so.” He frowned again and reprimanded Danju: “It’s fine for the maids to be literate and sensible, but teaching them this? A woman without talent is a woman of virtue — let alone a maid!”
Ke’er’s face went ghastly pale and she stumbled back to her room. Minglan felt deeply oppressed, and managed only a few hollow chuckles.
They went inside and sat down, and before Minglan could exchange even two sentences with Changbai, Yinxing had already elbowed past Danju to take over serving tea and presenting pastries, standing nearby with a persistent demure smile, her bright eyes sending continuous inviting glances toward Changbai. Xiaotao tried to pull her away, but she wouldn’t budge. Changbai’s expression darkened. He set down his teacup with a heavy clunk on the table and said in a measured but stern voice: “Sixth Sister really ought to discipline the maids in this courtyard.”
With that, he picked up his new shoes and left. Minglan almost coughed up blood.
She had barely finished eating lunch when Changfeng — who had supposedly shut himself in studying — came out for a stroll, and the stroll led him, naturally, to the Studio of Dusk and Green. Though Minglan wasn’t particularly close to him, she warmly welcomed him in for tea. Changfeng was visibly preoccupied and distracted. The moment he saw Mei’er, he jumped to his feet: “Mei’er — how have you been?”
Mei’er said bitterly: “Driven out, and not yet dead — you need not concern yourself, young master.”
Changfeng’s voice wavered: “…You — you’ve suffered so much.”
At that moment Ke’er drifted in, trembling and frail as dandelion fluff, one faltering step at a time. Changfeng’s eyes went misty: “Ke’er — you — you’ve grown so thin!” Ke’er could no longer hold herself together, and tears streamed down her face like a broken string of beads: “Young master~~~, I thought in this lifetime I would never see you again…”
Changfeng went over and took her by the arms; Ke’er immediately dissolved into full-throated weeping; Changfeng comforted her ceaselessly. The Studio of Dusk and Green was filled with the sound of weeping.
Cuiwei, Danju, and the others stood gaping in stupefied silence. Even Yinxing and Jiu’er were struck dumb, standing there not knowing what to do — then, as one, they turned their eyes to Minglan, silently asking: What do we do? Minglan was speechless. She was inwardly devastated.
She had thought things were bad enough. She had not expected the crowning finale was still to come.
Before the New Year, Qi’s father had submitted a memorial to the Emperor requesting leave for the Qi family to return to the capital for the holiday. His Majesty approved, and Master Zhuang announced a brief winter recess. Before departing, he sent a housewarming gift in advance — a white nephrite jade pendant carved in the shape of a pair of mandarin fish, suspended from a lacquered frame, with a small exquisite jade mallet hanging beside it. Such a large piece of pure white nephrite, so clear and lustrous — Minglan did not dare display it in the main hall where it would draw attention, and placed it instead on the writing desk in her bedroom.
On this particular day, Molan and Rulan came to visit together. Rulan had already settled onto the kang to have tea, but Molan insisted on touring Minglan’s new rooms and dragged Rulan straight into Minglan’s bedroom. Minglan’s heart immediately sank with a sense of foreboding. She heard Molan point at the white jade pendant and say in a lightly teasing voice: “…This must be the housewarming gift Brother Yuanruo sent you?”
Rulan fixed her eyes on the pendant for a long half-moment — then turned and fixed them on Minglan for another half-moment. That gaze sent a chill down Minglan’s spine. Molan smiled beside her: “Sixth Sister is truly lucky, to have Brother Yuanruo thinking of you so specially. When I moved into the Weirui Pavilion, I certainly didn’t see him send any housewarming gift. What reason could Brother Yuanruo have for being so particularly kind to our sister?”
Minglan blinked with wide, guileless eyes and said in a daze: “Yes — what reason indeed? Fifth Sister, do you know?”
As she said it, she turned to Rulan with an expression of complete bewilderment. Rulan saw Molan’s face — thoroughly enjoying this — and felt a nameless fire rise in her. She weighed the two evils, chose the lesser, and declared loudly: “What’s so complicated about it? The Qi family’s young master used to eat often at the Hall of Longevity with the sixth girl — he thinks of her as a little sister! Mother said our family and the Qi family have kinship ties — we’re all like brothers and sisters!”
The more she said it, the louder she got, until Rulan had talked herself into believing it entirely. She looked at the still-babyish little Minglan as she spoke, and felt her own explanation was entirely convincing. Minglan clapped her hands and smiled: “Now that Fifth Sister has explained it, I understand completely! You’re so clever!”
Heaven have mercy — it was the first time in all Rulan’s years of life that anyone had praised her for her wisdom.
Molan was still about to stir up a bit more trouble, but Minglan tilted her head in apparent innocence: “…No wonder Fourth Sister used to send pastries to the family school for Brother Yuanruo every other day — it’s because they’re all like brothers and sisters!” Rulan’s gaze turned sharp as a blade and shot toward Molan. Molan’s face flushed red and she said loudly: “What nonsense are you talking about? I was sending pastries to my two brothers!”
Minglan rubbed her head with a puzzled look: “Oh? But I heard from Elder Brother and Fourth Younger Brother that the pastries Fourth Sister sent always ended up going entirely to Brother Yuanruo… Could I have heard wrong?” She looked toward Rulan with an expression of puzzled uncertainty. Rulan had already made up her mind, and stared at Molan with contemptuous disdain: “…Fourth Sister has quite a technique. Truly a family tradition.”
Molan slapped a teacup off the table: “What did you say?!” Rulan’s heart gave a jolt — if this touched on Lin Yiniang, she would be the one to suffer for it again. Minglan quickly intervened: “What Fifth Sister means is that generous hospitality is an old tradition in our Sheng household — and Fourth Sister truly embodies the Sheng family spirit!”
Rulan exhaled with relief and patted Minglan’s head approvingly. Molan glared at both of them. Minglan thought quietly: I had no choice — that was self-defense.
After seeing them off with smiles, Danju came back in with a cold expression, closed the door, and spoke to Minglan with gravity: “Young miss — we need to properly deal with this courtyard. The way these girls are disgracing us is bringing the young miss’s own reputation into disrepute!” Xiaotao and Cuiwei echoed the same.
Minglan sat on the kang, holding a needlework manual and comparing it against an embroidery frame, smiling serenely: “Don’t be hasty — don’t be hasty. You don’t need to do anything — let them go on causing trouble. When you go out visiting and happen to talk with the trusted maids and matrons of other households, make sure to mention what’s been happening here — especially the incidents when Elder Brother and our brother came by. Be sure this reaches the right ears.”
Danju’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding, and she started to say something — then stopped.
Cuiwei shook her head: “Even if everyone knows, won’t they just laugh at the young miss for being an incompetent mistress who can’t manage her own household? She might even end up getting blamed herself.”
Xiaotao also nodded: “Exactly — it’s not necessarily going to earn the young miss any protection. Plenty of people would love to see the young miss make a fool of herself.”
Minglan waved her hand to stop them, and said calmly: “Come back after dinner, all of you — I have something I need your help with.”
The three maids went out with vague, unsatisfied expressions.
Minglan gently opened the window a crack and looked out at the spread of red plum blossoms outside — vivid and brilliant, swaying gracefully, fragrant and glorious even in ice and snow. It would be false to say she wasn’t angry. This had gone beyond a matter of keeping the peace. These girls simply had no regard for her at all — that was the only reason they dared behave with such boldness. As for managing the Sheng household: Lin Yiniang had money and children on her side; she herself — nothing more than a lowly concubine-born daughter, with only an aging grandmother to take pity on her. They were certain she would not dare cause trouble, would not dare offend the masters behind them.
It was the first time Minglan truly began to understand the complexity of a great ancient family. She was not afraid to deal with these maids — but she could not afford to offend Changfeng or Wang Shi. She had Grandmother Sheng as her backer, but she could not have her come forward on her behalf for every matter. Grandmother Sheng was grandmother to all the grandchildren — she could not show blatant favoritism, and there were things she simply could not do. Those things would have to be handled by Minglan herself.
If she had Rulan’s standing, she too could live as a carefree young lady of a great household, breezing through her days without a care. But she was not. Where there are people, there is rivalry — she was now in the thick of it, and to stand apart was laughable. What should the first step be?
That evening, Danju and Xiaotao closed each door and window in turn. Cuiwei helped Minglan cut a large sheet of white paper and lay out brush and ink. Minglan said: “You three help me think — what sorts of improper, undisciplined conduct have the maids been showing in their daily life? Let’s compile a list. We’ll write it out in black and white, and use it to set the rules from here forward.”
Cuiwei thought this was an excellent idea. Danju was more pessimistic: “I understand what the young miss is doing — but even if we write it all down, what then? We can’t actually punish them.”
Minglan began adding water to the ink stone and grinding away. In the lamplight, her features were soft and lovely, a pair of small dimples appearing at the corners of her lips as she smiled: “Don’t be angry — don’t be angry. Meals are eaten one bite at a time; troubles must be solved one at a time. Do as I say first.”
Don’t let these meaningless people ruin your mood. These people were not worth the loss of her peaceful, pleasant state of mind.
Xiaotao was the most obedient. At Minglan’s word she began listing, one by one, the improper conduct she had observed in the maids. Cuiwei smiled and helped to organize and summarize; Danju, with her careful eye, gradually filled in any gaps the others had missed. Three heads were certainly better than one, and between the three of them they refined and condensed the list, organizing it into clear points: “Maids must not leave the Studio of Dusk and Green at will”; “Maids must not discuss the affairs of the household’s masters”; “Maids on duty must be diligent and devoted”; “Maids must not quarrel or stir up trouble”; “No maid may enter the main room without being called,” and so on.
All three girls had been maids since childhood and were most familiar with the fine particulars and unspoken boundaries of those below. At first there were some hesitations, but as their discussion deepened it grew more thorough, and Minglan personally poured tea and served pastries for them, then took up the brush to record everything one by one. They talked deep into the night until it was nearly complete. Cuiwei and Xiaotao tidied up the scraps of paper and the brush and ink scattered across the kang; Danju brought a basin of warm water for Minglan to wash her hands.
As she gently scrubbed at the ink stains on Minglan’s hands, Danju couldn’t help but ask: “Young miss — will this really work? Can we not ask Grandmother Sheng to make the decisions for us?”
Minglan used a damp finger to flick Danju’s nose: “I have my own clever scheme.” Danju twisted away, pouting, and wrapped Minglan’s hands with a dry cloth.
Minglan suddenly thought of something. She picked up the brush again, moistened it on the ink stone, and added one final line at the bottom of the large paper:
To be continued — updates ongoing…
Author’s Note:
The Bureau of Entertainers has existed since ancient times, primarily serving the entertainment needs of officials or court celebrations. It housed all manner of performers — musicians, artists, dancers, and singers — as well as salaried administrators and arts instructors. The girls within the Bureau were sourced mainly through official procurement by the palace and government offices, or purchased directly from various houses of pleasure, and also included the families of defeated enemies or criminals — occasionally the family members of convicted officials, particularly political prisoners. This was the practice through the Han, Tang, Song, and Yuan dynasties.
By the Ming dynasty, as is well-known, Zhu Yuanzhang — the Hongwu Emperor — came from the same barefoot peasant background and harbored a natural hostility toward the official and gentry class, so the Bureau of Entertainers received a greater proportion of disgraced officials’ family members. But it was truly the Yongle Emperor Zhu Di who filled the Bureau with officials’ family members on a large scale. After seizing the throne, he faced mass opposition from officials and scholars, and carried out sweeping executions and punishments.
“Tie Xuan’s wife Lady Yang, age fifteen, sent to the Bureau of Entertainers; Mao Dafang’s wife Lady Zhang, age fifty-six, sent to the Bureau of Entertainers…”
These were the families of political prisoners who suffered by association. The majority affected were actually families of corruption cases.
However, the proportion of official family members actually sent to the Bureau in the Ming dynasty was not particularly high. In most cases, when a corrupt official’s household was searched and seized, the family members were given some leniency; it was more common for them to be sold to settle debts than sent to the Bureau. The Ming government was primarily managing its official class, and since officials who had been convicted would often later be reinstated, everyone had reason not to push things too far.
A fairly well-known case is Wang Cuiqiao, a famous courtesan of official origins — but even she, who wrote countless poems, never once said her father was wrongly accused.
The Bureau of Entertainers flourished again in the Qing dynasty, because the political strife of that era was far more dramatic: literary inquisitions were ten times those of the Ming; tensions between Manchu and Han officials; the great succession struggles among princes — all of which destroyed many illustrious great families, sending girls with such backgrounds into the Bureau everywhere. Correspondingly, however, the proportion of families of purely corrupt officials who were sold or sent to the Bureau actually decreased.
The Qing was ruled by the aristocratic class. No matter how famous figures like Zhou Peigong, Zhang Tingyu, Liu Yong, or Yao Qisheng were, they were merely advisors. The true holders of prominent power were Manchu nobles such as Mingzhu, Heshen, and Fukang’an — and they had no compunction whatsoever about Han officials’ family members.
Cao Xueqin’s family spanned the Kangxi, Yongzheng, and Qianlong eras, belonging to the Chinese Bordered Plain Banner. The Cao family’s women escaped one catastrophe — but the Li family was not so fortunate. Reportedly their female family members and servants were sold off on the spot, the selling going on for several months without completion. Even to think of it is desolate.
(Roughly as above — please don’t probe too deeply.)