On the day the candidates emerged from the imperial examinations, the Sheng Mansion had sent the steward Laifu to wait outside the examination grounds. He craned his neck and waited for a good long while before Changfeng and Yan Jing finally stumbled out — one with a greenish complexion, looking as though he had overindulged; the other with a yellowish face, as though he had gone without food for days. Compared to Changfeng’s excessive anxiety over the results, Yan Jing was far more at ease. After all, regardless of whether he passed, his bride and her family were not going anywhere.

Their different states of mind led to different outcomes. Half a month later, when the results were posted, the brother-in-law had passed and placed twelfth in the second tier of the Palace Examination. After further assessments, he would either enter the Hanlin Academy or be appointed to an official post. As for Changfeng… ahem, he would simply have to try again.

With Rulan’s wedding day drawing near, her mood took a strange turn — laughing one moment, flying into inexplicable rages the next. When Wang Shi came to share a few heartfelt words with her daughter, Rulan sent her away with a sharp retort. The maidservant Xijuan, seeing that this was going badly, had no choice but to go and find Minglan to put out the fire.

“Sixth young lady, if you could please…” Xijuan said awkwardly.

“You don’t need to say any more — I’ll go and take a look.” Minglan already understood what she meant. Since she knew how to play the fool and also had a way with headstrong young women, she had somehow become Rulan’s fire extinguisher at some point. Little Xique used to come and find her for help with this regularly.

Stepping into Taoran Pavilion, she found that most of the trousseau had already been carried out, and the once glittering, gold-and-silver-adorned chamber looked rather empty. Rulan sat blankly by the window, while on the dark red lacquered clothes stand nearby hung a magnificently embroidered bright red bridal gown that cast the whole room in a splendid glow.

“Well, well! My little sister has become quite the great personage these days. What honor, that she should find time to visit this humble place!” The moment Rulan saw Minglan, she roused herself and spoke with deliberate tartness.

Minglan settled quietly beside Rulan and smiled: “What’s troubling Fifth Sister? Tell me about it.”

Rulan slanted her eyes at Minglan and laughed coldly: “What right do I have to feel troubled? I haven’t that good fortune!” She puffed out her cheeks and turned her back pointedly, both arms planted heavily on the table.

Minglan considered for a moment, then ventured carefully: “What did she say to you?”

Rulan said nothing in reply, only gave a loud contemptuous snort through her nose. Minglan understood at once, and felt utterly helpless — that reckless Gu Tingye was the cause of all this!

A few days before, the family had chosen an auspicious date to send the betrothal gifts. After consulting the almanac, Gu Tingye had found that the date in question fell on the most favorable day in that period, and had sent word asking whether that day might also serve for presenting the betrothal gifts. Wang Shi had not thought to object at the time, and Sheng Hong had agreed on the spot.

On the appointed day, the Yan family had simply followed the customary ritual, preparing the standard generous array of flower tea, reunion confections, sheep and geese, wine jars, wooden geese, and a few bolts of fine fabric — nothing more. Gu Tingye, however, arrived like a nouveau riche prospector who had just struck gold in South America, sending betrothal gifts so lavish they filled an entire courtyard. First came twenty-eight pairs of solid gold fat pigs (Minglan being born in the Year of the Pig), totaling a full thousand taels. The fabrics alone included eighty-eight bolts of gossamer silk from the south of the Yangtze, eighty-eight bolts of feather gauze from the north, one hundred and eight bolts of various colorful embroidered cloud brocade and Shu satin, eighteen pairs of solid gold dragon and phoenix bracelets weighing four liang each, eighteen pairs of pearl-inlaid dragon and phoenix solid gold hairpins, and a full selection of premium dried seafood — abalone, oysters, dried scallops, mushrooms, dried shrimp, squid, sea cucumber, shark’s fin, fish maw, and dried moss. Hai Shi and the Old Madam, upon examining these last items, were strongly of the opinion that they had come directly from the imperial tribute. As for the other sundry livestock, fish, wine, seasonal teas, sweets, and confections, they were beyond counting. Last of all came a pair of fat, loudly honking geese.

In truth, Gu Tingye had merely followed the customs befitting a great and noble family of high rank, which was not particularly excessive or out of bounds. But the display struck Wang Shi’s eyes like a blade. The unease she had long suppressed finally erupted. She had known all along that this disparity in wealth would gradually make itself felt, and this stark, blunt contrast had now rung the opening bell.

From that day on, the sight of Minglan no longer brought her any pleasure. But since Minglan was a bride-to-be who spent most of her time in the Shou’an Hall, Wang Shi could only turn to Rulan for her sharp remarks — resentful words that Minglan could guess without difficulty, amounting to something like: “If you hadn’t caused that incident, all of this would have been yours.”

What grated on Wang Shi most was that all these betrothal gifts had gone directly to the Shou’an Hall, without passing through her hands at all. Knowing the Old Madam’s inclinations, the bulk of these gifts would likely be sent back with Minglan as part of her dowry to the Gu household.

Even if Rulan was wholeheartedly devoted to her future husband, she was still an ordinary young woman — she valued face, and she had her vanity. Who would not covet such boundless wealth? By now, everyone in the Sheng Mansion, from stewards to maidservants and older female servants, was falling over themselves to please Minglan.

Minglan was human too — she was dazzled by gold and jewels. The moment she first saw that mountain of betrothal gifts, her heart had been pattering wildly for a good while. The gold and pearl ornaments alone had taken Danju and Little Xiaotao a full half-hour to count. That dark rosewood pear-blossom carved lacquer vanity case with its nine tiers and eighty-one nested boxes, sent over by the Old Madam, finally had a worthy use — packed full to bursting.

For the first time in her life, she thought that marrying like this was not so bad at all. If only a comfortable settlement were guaranteed, even a failed marriage would not leave one utterly at a loss.

“Fifth Sister, if there’s anything weighing on your heart, you’re welcome to tell your sister,” Minglan said as gently as she could.

Unexpectedly, Rulan spun around abruptly, arched a contemptuous brow, and sniffed coldly: “How would I dare! I’ve already said — I may yet have to count on you for help in the future!”

Minglan calculated the days — there were only a few left before they would both be married. This was likely the last time she would coax Rulan in quite this way. She decided to throw caution to the wind and make one final, wholehearted effort — send her out the door in high spirits and be done with it. She smiled sunnily and said: “Fifth Sister, your sister has a question for you. If it were possible right now, would you be willing to trade places with me — you marrying into the Gu Family, and I marrying into your husband’s family?”

Rulan’s expression wavered with mingled disbelief and suspicion. She shot back: “Would you?”

“But of course I would!” Minglan agreed without hesitation, laughing merrily. “I’ve always thought Fifth Sister’s husband was a fine man — one who can climb a mountain in the dead of night to meet his beloved, who composes tender, soulful poetry, and who has now passed the imperial examinations. Why on earth would I refuse?!”

“You dare——!” Rulan slammed the table and shot to her feet, letting out a thunderous yell that left Minglan’s eardrums ringing.

Minglan rubbed her ears and leaned back in her chair, laughing until she doubled over: “Then what, exactly, is Fifth Sister angry about?”

Rulan exhaled heavily and glared at Minglan for a long moment, then sat back down with indignant sulkiness.

Minglan slowly leaned toward her, draping an arm around Rulan’s shoulders, and murmured softly in her ear: “That year we visited the Zhongqin Earl’s mansion to call on relatives, and we saw Eldest Sister’s mother-in-law — on the way home, you said something to me, Fifth Sister. Have you forgotten?”

Rulan froze. A ruby pomegranate-and-gold tassel earring trembled beside her ear. She said slowly: “I remember… I said — all mothers-in-law in the world are terrible creatures. If I had to live as pitiably as Eldest Sister, I would rather be an old maid for the rest of my life.”

Minglan sighed quietly inside. She said gently: “You already understand all of this in your heart — so why torment yourself with anger? Fifth Sister… you’re frightened, aren’t you?”

Rulan lowered her head. Moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. Without realizing it, she reached out and seized Minglan’s hand, gripping it tightly. Her voice caught: “I am frightened. I’m frightened that Jing Ge’er might betray me one day. I’m frightened that sharp-tongued mother-in-law will bully me. I’m frightened that I won’t be able to hold my head up among my sisters. I know life at the Gu household is not easy either, but I just… I… I don’t want to get married anymore…”

Rulan began to sniffle softly. Wang Shi’s harsh words, compounded by pre-wedding jitters, had finally broken through even her thick armor.

Minglan heaved a long, gentle sigh and said: “People say there are three things in this world that cannot be trusted. First, when an old person says they do not wish to live any longer. Second, when a young person says they do not wish to grow up. And third…”

“What is the third?” Rulan’s tears had gradually stilled. She looked up to ask.

“When an unmarried young lady says she does not want to get married!”

Rulan flew into outraged fury, seized both fists, and began pounding Minglan with them. Minglan yelped and howled, begging for mercy between cries, and was not forgiven until she had apologized at considerable length. By the time the commotion subsided, Rulan was no longer sad. The two sisters, breathless, leaned against each other and sprawled across the kang, exchanging words in an aimless, unhurried way.

“Being a daughter-in-law is truly no easy thing. Being a mother-in-law must be so much more comfortable!”

“Grandsons learn from their grandparents, and a mother-in-law is a daughter-in-law who has endured long enough. Fifth Sister will have that day too.”

“If only there were no mother-in-law!”

“Without a mother there would be no son — Fifth Sister, you’re even harsher than someone who reads the sutras and then refuses to let the monk go.”

“I want to… We must live well!”

“Of course — the living must go on living. Only the dead have stopped.”

“You must be careful! The sisters-in-law and elders at the Gu household will look down on you for being born of a concubine.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just don’t look at their faces, and there’s nothing to see.”

……

Minglan did not, in truth, like Rulan very much. Both were outgoing in nature, yet compared to Jiu’er’s bold and vivid warmth, her unconstraint, her cheerfulness and kindness, Rulan was sharper and more willful, more domineering and overbearing. And yet — Minglan glanced sideways, and saw that Rulan was no longer upset, excitedly pulling Minglan along to describe how she would decorate her new home — this girl, who wore every emotion on her face without disguise, was the only vivid and genuine presence in this closed, oblique household.

On the twenty-seventh day of the second month — greatly auspicious, most propitious, a day fitting for marriage and weddings.

The brother-in-law was in high spirits: with his new title on one side and capable in-laws on the other, a good number of friends and fellow scholars had come to help welcome the bride. The wedding procession was decked in red and gold, full of music and fanfare, a dazzling and merry sight.

For once Changfeng had found his match. At the gates of the Sheng Mansion, he and the brother-in-law matched wits for a full half-hour in a battle of words — poetry and prose ranging across the Tang and Song dynasties, their debate eloquent and brilliant, drawing loud cheers from the assembled onlookers. The scene was wonderfully lively, and Wang Shi finally showed some genuine happiness.

The Old Madam preferred quiet by nature, but this time she gave Wang Shi the honor of at least staying through the toasting before returning to the Shou’an Hall to rest. Minglan was in quite good spirits as well — she had rather imprudently drunk a few cups, enough to set both cheeks burning red and her head spinning. Too restless to lie down indoors, she went out into the courtyard and took a few steps to clear the wine from her head.

The night was cool as water. From the outer courtyard, the low rumble of boisterous laughter and chatter continued to drift over, along with wafts of wine fragrance and the clink of raised cups — the banquet was clearly not yet over. By contrast, the inner courtyard lay in perfect stillness. Minglan walked slowly along the stone path, then was seized by a playful impulse — she absolutely had to check whether the ice on the pond had fully melted. She had to catch a few more fish before her wedding, come what may.

She quickened her steps and had just arrived at the edge of the pond when, in the pale white moonlight, she made out a tall, slender figure bent over, one hand braced against the rocks at the water’s edge, head lowered — apparently retching. The figure seemed to hear footsteps behind him and slowly turned around. In the faint light of the crescent moon, with the shimmering reflection of the night lake dancing on his face, there stood someone of elegant, exquisite beauty, lovely as fine jade.

Minglan’s steps halted. Her heart lurched. She immediately wanted to turn and leave.

“…Sixth Sister?” The faint scent of wine that clung to Qi Heng was swept by the early spring vapors rising from the water into something unexpectedly cool and refined.

Minglan forced herself to stop. She kept her smile in place: “It has been a long time. I have yet to offer my congratulations on your recent marriage — my felicitations.”

Qi Heng’s eyes were beautifully made — they seemed to hold whole oceans of tender, unspoken feeling, shimmering between deep and shallow like still water. He gazed quietly at Minglan, then said slowly: “Speaking of congratulations, your own wedding day approaches, Younger Sister. Allow me to offer my felicitations.” And with that, he bowed deeply, his hands clasped before him.

Minglan immediately gathered her skirts and returned the courtesy with a graceful bow of her own.

For a moment they stood in silence, with only the faint movement of water breaking the stillness beside the pond.

Minglan wanted to slip away. But Qi Heng kept his eyes on her, as though he could not look long enough. Her nerves were not strong enough to withstand it, and she had to find something to say: “You… how did you come to be here?” This was the inner quarters of the Sheng Mansion — how had an outside man gotten in?

Qi Heng’s beautiful eyes curved gently, and he smiled slightly: “I had a few too many cups. Zecheng asked me to rest in his study for a while.” He knew the layout of the Sheng Mansion well, and Changbai’s study sat at the boundary between inner and outer quarters. That he had found his way to the water’s edge was not so strange.

Minglan had nothing more to say. Another strange silence settled between them. Qi Heng gazed at Minglan — from her brows, to her lashes, to her dimples, to the two small indentations at the corners of her mouth. He thought of the past, and a sudden surge of pained indignation welled up within him. He gave a cold laugh:

“Sixth Sister need have no worries. Last month, when the Marquis of Weibei held his wedding, the toasts flowed like a tide. General Gu made a point of intercepting many of the cups meant for National Uncle Shen. National Uncle Shen has said he will return the favor in kind when the Gu Family celebrates their wedding. … Oh — I nearly forgot. I cannot call you Sixth Sister any longer after this. By the proper reckoning of seniority, I would have to address you as Second Maternal Aunt!”

Minglan said nothing at all. After a long pause, she replied evenly: “You are quite right.”

Qi Heng’s fury surged up with the wine already in his blood, and for a moment his legs could not hold him steady. He swayed, and leaned against the rocks to keep from falling. He wanted to say something cutting, something that would sting her — yet when the moment came, he could not bring himself to do it. Another silence fell between them.

Feeling increasingly desolate, Qi Heng finally could restrain himself no longer: “There is something I have kept in my heart for a long time. I wish to ask you today, and I hope you will answer me honestly.”

Minglan said quietly: “Please ask.”

Qi Heng straightened himself, drew a slow, deep breath, and the jade-clear, luminously handsome lines of his face settled into absolute seriousness. He said: “All these years, my feelings for you have been no secret to you — yet you always played the fool, keeping a cold distance from me. I will say it plainly today, before heaven itself: if you had given me the slightest sign of return, I would have fought for it with everything I had! Yet from the very beginning, you had already written me off. You judged me as someone not to be relied on — someone who would drag you down and ruin your life. You avoided me like a deadly serpent. Why? Why was that?!”

Minglan lifted her head, baring a stretch of pale and delicate neck, her profile etched in graceful lines. Qi Heng was nearly lost in the sight. After a long moment, Minglan lowered her gaze slowly and said in a quiet, unhurried voice: “We have known each other since childhood, and perhaps you do not know it yourself — but you are, in truth, very much like the Junzhu. Both of you appear calm and effortless on the surface, yet inside you are intensely driven. You were already blessed with a fine family background, yet you never ceased your diligent efforts. You kept yourself above reproach, and among the privileged young men of the capital, you could rightly be counted as extraordinary.”

Minglan’s voice carried a note of melancholy. She turned her face toward the lake, as though recalling something from very long ago. She continued slowly: “You want to do everything to the best of your ability. You had just begun practicing Han dynasty rhapsody when you felt drawn to studying the Book of Songs. You practiced the formal court calligraphy style, yet could not bear to abandon the Yan and Liu styles either. Master Zhuang had barely praised your progress in writing when you were already mixing pigments and learning to paint. You knew that grasping too much at once leads to mastering nothing — so you rose early and stayed up late, forcing yourself, day after day, until you had made genuine progress in many skills.”

Qi Heng, hearing the faint note of sorrow in Minglan’s voice, felt a pang of grief stir inside him as well.

Minglan paused, steadied her heart, turned to face him, and looked at him steadily, saying word by word: “You are excellent. In everything, you strive to be the best. I could never be worthy of you — your heart is too vast, and you could never let go.”

Qi Heng felt as though a hand had reached into his chest and wrenched it. He bit down hard on his lip, until he tasted the faint iron of blood, then said with great difficulty: “You… you have always seen things clearly.”

Minglan fixed her eyes on her own toes, and felt a dull ache pass through her heart. She said quietly: “When there is no one to depend on, one has to think clearly for oneself.”

Qi Heng looked at Minglan’s small, delicate figure — it seemed a gust of wind could sweep her away — and something soft and aching stirred within him. He said: “I know your difficulties. I have never blamed you, not once. I only despise my own uselessness! As for Gu… he is not a bad person in truth. Do not believe the rumors you hear in the streets. You… you must live well.”

Something swelled and brimmed in Minglan’s chest. She raised her head and said clearly: “I came into this world to live well — that is the whole of it!”

With that, she saw that Qi Heng’s eyes had grown red-rimmed, tears nearly spilling over. Minglan’s smile remained as bright and open as a clear day. She smoothed down her skirts, covering the few drops of wet that had fallen onto her shoe tips, and then dipped into a graceful bow — and turned and walked away without once looking back.

Overhead, the crescent moon hung like a silver hook, flickering with a faint, dim light — already without the brilliance it had held a moment before.

Minglan walked quickly back to the Shou’an Hall and slipped inside. The Old Madam had just been helped out of her hairpins and outer garments by her attendant, and was leaning against the edge of the kang to rest. After Minglan greeted her and the others had been dismissed, she stepped forward and said: “Grandmother, please tell me about the He Family. You visited them before — what is the situation now?”

The unusual nature of Minglan’s manner had puzzled the Old Madam. She studied Minglan carefully for a moment, then smiled with a very particular expression: “Since the betrothal was settled, you haven’t once asked me a single thing about the He Family. And now, today, you want to know?”

Minglan’s expression was composed. She said directly: “Some things do not disappear simply by refusing to acknowledge them. It is better to know them clearly.”

The Old Madam slowly raised herself upright, her eyes carrying a measure of approving satisfaction. She said: “I went to the He household and made matters plain. Your betrothal has been established — the two families had no formal contract, no matchmaker involved, no token exchanged. There is therefore nothing binding on either side.”

Minglan nodded, bowed in thanks to the Old Madam, and asked further: “And how did the He Family respond?”

The Old Madam smiled slightly, her eyes shifting with an expression that was hard to read. She answered: “My old friend is a remarkably open-minded woman. After the incident with the Cao Family, she already understood how things stood — she will not hold any of this against you. As for Hong Ge’er, he has long had great ambitions. It seems the Zhang Family intends to travel to Yunnan and Guizhou to gather medicinal plants and seek out renowned physicians, and he has resolved to go along and broaden his horizons. He will likely be departing within days — it will probably be no less than two years before he returns. The He family’s scholar has always been of delicate health, and he has been unwell recently. He will recover with careful tending.”

Minglan’s face was still as water. She showed not the slightest flicker of feeling, and asked further: “Has anyone from the He Family sent words or a token for me?”

The Old Madam smiled again, so broadly that the prayer beads on her wrist trembled lightly. Then she said: “My old friend knows the full story. She only said that you have been wronged, and assured me that no word of this will ever leave the He household. In any case, the Old Master He has already submitted a memorial requesting to retire from his post and return to his hometown. It will drag on for perhaps a year and a half, then they will be leaving the capital for good. As for anything else… only Hong Ge’er left a message for you.”

Minglan said steadily: “What did he say?”

The Old Madam said slowly: “He said — he is sorry to you. He said the failing is his own — that he is a man of thin virtue and poor fortune. It has nothing to do with you.”

Minglan had heard it all, and remained in long silence. The Old Madam watched the changes in Minglan’s expression, then said with measured earnestness: “You need not take it too deeply to heart. It is better to untangle some knots sooner rather than later. After all, you will not be seeing him again — living your own life is what matters most.”

Minglan lifted her head and smiled — warm and mischievous, bright and clear as sunlight. She said: “Grandmother is right. But whether we meet again in the future — that is of no particular consequence. The Old Madam He is Grandmother’s close friend. She is simply a family acquaintance, nothing more.”

A great weight lifted from the Old Madam’s heart at those words. She said in approval: “You have put it behind you — that is the best thing.”

Minglan smiled: “Our eyes are set in the front of our heads precisely so we can look forward.”