Upon hearing the news that Man Niang had already been sent away, Minglan quietly kissed her son’s small face. Nanny Chang sat beside her and happily took the child, cooing and playing with him — the worry and melancholy that had clouded her face for days swept away, replaced by a springtime smile. Rong Jie’er stood at her side, neither speaking nor laughing nor crying, her expression wooden, her brow knit with lingering worry — she had been like this for the past two days.

That day, realizing there was nothing more to be done, Man Niang had called out, insisting upon seeing her daughter one last time. Gu Tingye had coldly agreed, and Nanny Chang, who had arrived in haste, personally led Rong Jie’er to her. The reunion of mother and daughter after years apart was something that could only be described as peculiar: on one side, all the force of one’s being poured into tears and running nose, expressing the depths of maternal love and the helplessness of what had been done; on the other side, a girl who stood there hollow and uncomprehending.

Just as Nanny Chang had expected, after all the weeping and beseeching and posturing, Man Niang cried and begged her daughter to plead for her before her father, then brought out the boy to introduce them to each other — hoping that if sister and brother could embrace and weep together, with a heartbroken mother in the background, it would make for an all the more moving scene.

Unfortunately, Rong Jie’er had been sent into the Marquis’s household when she was only four or five, and Chang Ge’er had been even younger. The sister looked at her brother and felt only strangeness, not knowing what to say; the brother had no memory of his sister at all. The scene fell flat, almost laughably so — there was nothing moving about it whatsoever.

“Come and look at your little brother.”

Nanny Chang smiled and held the baby out a little. Rong Jie’er craned her neck to see. The infant made soft, babbling sounds, his large round eyes clear black and white. The little girl smiled, though there was something desolate in her expression. Minglan felt a pang of compassion and said gently, “You’ve had an exhausting day too. Go rest. Xian Jie’er came by and said your tutor will be checking your lessons tomorrow — go over your studies.”

Rong Jie’er murmured her assent and lightly lifted her feet toward the door. When she turned, not even the hem of her skirt stirred — only the jade-green sash of thin brocade tied at her waist swayed in a graceful arc. She was no longer anything like the defiant, unruly, entirely unmannered wild little girl she had once been.

Minglan watched Rong Jie’er’s retreating figure and sighed softly. Nanny Chang noticed and offered reassurance: “Madam, do not worry — the books Rong Jie’er has read these past two years have not been wasted. She knows right from wrong.”

Throughout the reunion, Rong Jie’er had kept her head lowered and said not a word. Man Niang had gone from tearful and pitiable pleas, to suppressed anger, to forcibly taking hold of her daughter’s arm. Nanny Chang believed that if there had not been people watching, she would probably have pinched the girl a few times. Seeing her schemes come to nothing, Man Niang could only ask Gu Tingye in despair how he could bear to separate them, flesh and blood, from one another.

At that moment, Rong Jie’er had finally spoken. She said — if her mother was willing, she would leave the Marquis’s household that very day and go with her mother and brother to live in the countryside.

These words struck home like an arrow to its mark. Even with Man Niang’s gift for speech, she could not immediately respond. After a long pause, Man Niang explained in a doleful voice that she had left Rong Jie’er in the Marquis’s household only for the sake of the girl’s future prospects, and urged Rong Jie’er time and again not to forget about herself and Chang Ge’er. But upon hearing this, Rong Jie’er looked at her in blank bewilderment and said, “Then what about my brother’s future prospects? Why did you refuse back then?” Man Niang had no answer. Rong Jie’er’s expression went wooden: “Did you keep me here to be a thorn in Madam’s side?” These were the only words she spoke to her birth mother during the entire encounter.

Man Niang had moved to lunge at her, but Nanny Chang wrapped her arms around Rong Jie’er and stepped out of the way. The matrons on both sides quickly seized Man Niang and dragged her out, while she continued shrieking wildly about being “heartless” and “ungrateful” and the like.

Minglan could hardly believe it. “She really said that?”

Nanny Chang gently made a soft sound to soothe the baby, then turned and smiled at Minglan. “That spider-woman has only so much power after all! When I brought Jie’er there, I already told her plainly: her heartless mother was looking for her, and it could only be for one of two things — either to have her beg for her, or to have her…” She furrowed her brow, trying to remember. “Ah, yes — to have Rong’er be someone who says one thing while thinking another.”

In other words, to have Rong Jie’er receive all of Minglan’s care and kindness on the one hand, while on the other hand never forgetting her poor mother — mentioning those two names before Gu Tingye as often as possible, and if she could manage to put a few obstacles in Minglan’s way, all the better.

Nanny Chang was experienced in raising children and very practiced in her methods. It took only two or three rocks and pats, and the infant — who had been quite lively just moments before — was already listing sideways and drifting to sleep. Nanny Chang gently handed the child over, and Nanny Cui carried him away to the adjoining room.

She watched the maids and matrons file out, then turned back and smiled at Minglan: “I haven’t congratulated Madam yet. The young master is truly fine-looking — thick eyebrows and big eyes, sturdy and vigorous. Look at the way he was eating just now — gulping and swallowing away! To eat well and sleep well is every good sign!”

Minglan gave a rueful smile and shook her head. Her own supply was insufficient; the little one took a few mouthfuls and that was the end of it, and she had to call in outside reinforcements.

“Madam.” Nanny Chang studied Minglan’s distracted expression and said carefully, “Don’t dwell on that wicked woman anymore. Her hometown is in some remote corner of Mianzhou — mountains high, waters far, roads all but impassable. Now that she’s gone, she’s not likely to come back.”

Minglan came back to herself with a start and smiled. “Nanny has it the wrong way round — that’s not what I was thinking about. It’s only…” She sighed lightly. “How exactly did the Marquis come to meet her in the first place?” Given how matters now stood, it would seem false and affected to go on without asking a single question.

Mention of that woman stirred a wealth of feeling in Nanny Chang. There was nothing that couldn’t be said about it now, with things as they were. She reached up to smooth the hair at her temple, turned the matter over for a moment, and began: “It was in the second year after we came to the capital. After learning the full truth of why the Gu and Bai families had formed their alliance in marriage, Ye’er and the old Marquis became more and more estranged.”

If the Gu Tingye of before had been only half given over to self-reproach and half to sullen defiance, then after learning the truth, he must have been consumed by grief and rage beyond all speech. The very match had been one the Gu family had gone out of their way to seek — yet everyone treated him with contempt. It was the Bai family that had saved the Gu family in its time of crisis — and yet those self-important Gu relations spoke of his late mother with nothing but disdain.

Nanny Chang was deeply sorrowful at the memory. “Ye’er was choking on a belly full of grievances with nowhere to put them, and could only go on as before — getting into fights, causing trouble. That year, he got into a confrontation with a vicious young scoundrel, and in the thick of it, a pair of performers — a brother and sister of attractive appearance — got caught up in the mess. Seeing they were about to come to grief, Ye’er couldn’t stand by and watch, so he stepped in and saved them.”

Minglan asked softly, “That performer — was he Man Niang’s elder brother?”

Nanny Chang gave a helpless nod. “At the time our whole household was living in the countryside outside the capital. When Ye’er came and told me about it, he had already taken that pair of siblings in. I told Ye’er that performers were from the lowest rungs of society — it was best not to get too deeply involved, or people would talk. The thing to do was give them a sum of money and send them on their way. Ye’er may have had a hot temper, but he was not without sense, and agreed immediately. But then…”

Her voice filled with contempt, and she gritted her teeth. “That performer actually left his own sister behind, took the money, and absconded!”

“Truly?” Minglan was astonished. What kind of heartless brother could do such a thing?

“False!” Nanny Chang rolled her loose-skinned eyes heavenward. “Ye’er only found out later — it was all a performance that woman put on. She had her brother take the money and go set up a business elsewhere, so she could stay behind and attach herself to Ye’er.”

Minglan was somewhat stunned. What a daring, calculating woman — to actually conceive of such a scheme and carry it through.

“And so: one lone woman, helpless and pitiable, without a soul in the world to turn to. No one quite knew what to do, and she was settled in a rented house in the meantime. Ye’er even suggested I take her in as a foster daughter, but I refused. I simply could not bring myself to like the woman.” Nanny Chang sat back in thought, “Old Nanny always felt that the way her eyes looked was not honest — not proper.”

For an elderly woman of integrity, one who in the family’s most difficult years had refused to sell herself into servitude and had remained fixed on the road of respectable living, steadily advancing toward higher ground, there was no possibility of taking in a performer’s sister as an adopted daughter.

Minglan smiled. “Old people always have a discerning eye.”

Nanny Chang could only smile bitterly and shake her head. “If I had known what was coming, it would have been better to take her in, and spare Ye’er all this suffering.” She was full of regret. “That woman had formidable methods — she was always manufacturing some new trouble. One moment she was pretending to be ill, the next she was saying the vicious young scoundrel had come looking for her again — drawing Ye’er to go and see her again and again. Ah, Ye’er was only about ten years old then, in the full flush of a young man’s hot-bloodedness, and that woman was practiced at bewitching men and flattering them — and so, one visit after another…” She looked at Minglan with a difficult expression; what came next was very hard to say.

To her surprise Minglan’s face wore a look of complete understanding, and she even said reassuringly, “Nanny, speak freely — it was so many years ago. I won’t be small-minded about it.” What was there to marvel at? It was essentially the familiar story of some singing girl ensnaring some young lord. A sullen young son of a Marquis’s household, with no one to whom he could pour out his grievances, meeting a girl who understood him perfectly and was also not bad-looking — some wine drunk, a small pipa cradled in the arms, a small song sung, and then in the warm haze of wine, a curtain drawn, an oil lamp extinguished… at which point a certain number of words are omitted, as unsuitable. The deed was done.

Nanny Chang’s expression was as though she had been force-fed an entire crock of vinegar. “I urged Ye’er — this business could not be allowed to go on. Leave aside that he had not yet taken a wife; by Man Niang’s birth alone, she could not enter the Marquis’s household. Better to give her a sum of money and let her go find a husband elsewhere. Ye’er was not especially attached to that woman, did not feel much reluctance, and agreed right away. I went along that time to persuade Man Niang myself. But who could have imagined — that woman said she would rather die! She threw herself at the well, she beat her head against the wall, and after a whole scene of carrying on, she pressed a hairpin against her own throat, knelt on the ground, and begged — saying she said…” The old woman’s memory failed her, and she couldn’t quite bring back the words.

Minglan very helpfully filled in: “She must have said first — what sort of woman does Nanny think she is? How dare anyone think she could be bought off with money? After all the near-death dramatics, she launched into a declaration: she asked nothing — not a formal status, not money, not a single thing — she only begged the Marquis for a crumb of compassion, that he might sometimes still remember her…” Minglan thought a moment, then added in an irresistibly mischievous spirit: “Just treat her like a little cat or little dog — leave her off to one side and pay her no mind; only visit sometimes when in the mood, just to talk. Something like that?”

Nanny Chang’s face was deeply embarrassed. “Madam guessed it completely right.” She couldn’t remember the exact words anymore, but that had indeed been more or less the gist of it.

Minglan nearly rolled her eyes. How was it the script was exactly the same?!

“After that scene, old Nanny didn’t dare push too hard — afraid a life might be lost. Think as she might, there was no proper solution to be found, and so the matter dragged on day by day.” Nanny Chang’s voice grew quieter and quieter. “Besides — I thought, rather than let Ye’er cause trouble out in the world, it was better to have him talking with that woman, at least it let him work off some of his bitterness. And I thought: once Ye’er married a good and virtuous mistress, she might be willing to accommodate the woman. Looking back now, old Nanny was deeply, profoundly wrong!” The white and grey head drooped lower and lower; the further she spoke of the past, the more she felt she had no face to show Minglan. What respectable young lady from a good family would want to be “virtuous and accommodating” in this particular way?

“And before old Nanny had even had time to change her thinking, a terrible thing happened. That woman — was with child.”

Nanny Chang ground her teeth and went on in a tone full of resentment. “At that point, old Nanny felt that something had truly gone badly wrong. Ye’er was young and had never been through anything like this — he too was at a loss.” She couldn’t help but raise her voice. “That woman refused absolutely to terminate the pregnancy. I had no recourse. After several terrifying months, she gave birth to a baby girl. Honestly — old Nanny truly breathed a sigh of relief!”

So this was the story of Rong Jie’er’s birth. Minglan let out a quiet sigh.

“Not long afterward, the whole business came to the attention of the Marquis’s household, and there was a great uproar all over again. Taking a kept woman, fathering a child — add to that those black-hearted people stoking the flames, and the old Marquis had Ye’er strung up and given the family punishment.” Nanny Chang couldn’t hold back a sob. “Madam knows Ye’er’s temperament. A truly stubborn disposition — and just at that point he was at loggerheads with the old Marquis. The more the old man commanded him to get rid of Man Niang at once, the more he refused — the more he insisted on making proper arrangements for that woman. The old Marquis was so furious he nearly had Ye’er sent to the clan court!”

Minglan thought that the two most troublesome groups in the world were probably middle-aged men and women in crisis and rebellious adolescent boys and girls. She could well imagine the old Marquis’s state of mind back then, and felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy for him.

Nanny Chang wiped the corners of her eyes and said with resignation, “Ye’er was impossibly stubborn at the time — no one could talk any sense into him. And that woman kept that pitiful air of hers all the while. Things could only stay entangled that way. I said to Ye’er — you can be at odds with your father, but you cannot ignore your future. This time we were lucky; it was a girl. A dowry can be prepared for her and she can be sent off to marry. But if it had been a boy… how was Ye’er ever going to find a good match! Ye’er could see that wouldn’t do. But he was a young man, and that woman knew all too well how to enchant — if he couldn’t hold himself in check… and so I personally went and found an herbal medicine practitioner, and installed her in that rented house as a precaution.”

She ground her teeth especially hard at this part. “Who could have known — after the clan court business had barely settled down, and after Ye’er had only visited that woman twice, she was with child again!”

This was a serious and grave matter, yet Minglan desperately wanted to laugh. Man Niang was formidable indeed — what efficiency.

“I went over immediately to demand an explanation. Man Niang wept and said she had been taking the medicine faithfully, and the practitioner also said she had delivered the medicine according to the rules.” Such a catastrophic breach had nearly driven Nanny Chang to faint at the time. “After questioning everyone involved, it was discovered that the practitioner had a fondness for drinking, and in the end everyone could only conclude that she had probably drunk herself into a muddle, then carelessly purchased the wrong herbs, or skimped on the preparation of the medicine.”

“The matter was brushed under the carpet again. But I never lost my suspicions. That practitioner liked her drink, yes, but she never let it affect her work.”

Nanny Chang rose and closed the two panels of the side door, leaving the window open just a crack for ventilation, then came back and bit the inside of her cheek. “At that time I knelt before Ye’er — I set aside all my old dignity to weep before him. I said, it may be that that Man Niang’s constitution is simply strong, and the ordinary medicine has no effect on her; the only thing I could beg of him was not to be foolish again — there must not be another child!”

Minglan burst out with a barely suppressed laugh. Nanny Chang was quite the character herself — what an artful way to trip Man Niang up.

“The young master is the only flesh and blood the late Mistress left behind. If he were to amount to nothing his whole life, wouldn’t that be a laughing matter for all those black-hearted people?! If old Nanny had to go face the late Mistress in the afterlife, how could she show her face! If Ye’er refused to agree, old Nanny would have nothing left to live for either!”

This had been Nanny Chang’s finest stratagem, and she recounted it with great satisfaction. “Ye’er did take it to heart. In the following years, Ye’er still visited her often and spent time with the children, but he kept his distance from her in other respects. That woman was practiced at playing well-behaved, and had no grounds to argue. She only said it must have been the practitioner’s fault. And I said: but what if it wasn’t the practitioner’s negligence?”

Minglan was thoroughly amused. What a brilliant maneuver. If Man Niang had always performed the role of a woman who understood Gu Tingye deeply, supported him, stood by him — making that her chief selling point — then she simply could not risk allowing him to take that particular gamble, could she? Whether or not those few years had seen any truly intimate relations between Gu Tingye and Man Niang, there were at least far fewer visits made, and Man Niang never bore another child.

Nanny Chang’s stratagem had succeeded.

“That woman was no great beauty — there were maids in Ye’er’s own rooms who were better-looking than she was, by more than one count! Did she truly think herself a celestial beauty who could stop a man in his tracks with a glance?! With just her looks, there was barely enough capital to bewitch anyone! She relied entirely on a clever tongue, seizing on Ye’er’s moments of bitterness and depression, flattering and accommodating him in all things, and wearing that pitiful look of hers to make him feel he couldn’t bring himself to abandon her!” The more Nanny Chang spoke of her hatred for Man Niang, the more cutting her words became.

Minglan smiled. She could tell that Nanny Chang was trying to exonerate Gu Tingye for what had passed, and so was doing her best to minimize and downplay the feelings between him and Man Niang. But she had no need to worry. Minglan was not the sort to gnaw endlessly on a single grievance. The reason she had once insisted on making an issue of that cousin of He Hong’s was that the cousin had not been a thing of the past — she was a matter of the present, with the threat of becoming a matter of the future as well. That was what had been so objectionable.

But Man Niang? Whatever feelings she and Gu Tingye had once shared — even whether those feelings had been genuine on his part — what did it matter? It was past. Real life as it was now — that was what mattered most. Why let the present good days go unappreciated in order to pursue things long gone? This was the most important lesson she had lived by in this life.

To be blunt about it: as long as so-called true love had not produced any actual change in her present circumstances, whether it had truly been love or not was largely irrelevant. If Gu Tingye today intended to divide half his estate away, or pass the title to Chang Ge’er — that was a different matter, and Minglan would naturally be deeply dissatisfied. But as things stood: Gu Tingye had placed the entire household in her management, was determined that her son should inherit the title, slept beside her every night, and stuck to her side every spare moment he had. Under those circumstances, what was the point in investigating who his true love had really been?

To be even more blunt: in the way things were depicted in stories — a man, for one reason or another, forced by circumstance or ambition or the demands of some greater cause, to take another woman and leave her behind — even if one were his true love, what good would that do her?

Very well. She was a selfish, self-interested modern woman. Ten years of life in this world had only dressed her in the outer shell of a gentle and virtuous lady; to the bone, she possessed not a single traditional feminine virtue of the ancient kind.

“The way Nanny tells it, one might think Man Niang’s two children were ones the Marquis had actively sought to have?” Minglan half-teased.

Nanny Chang’s heart clenched. She sighed and said, “Madam, you are truly… ah, what can old Nanny say. But think about it, Madam — the Marquis is no fool. What clear-headed young man from a well-established family, before he has even taken a wife, would be in such a rush to think about having children?”

That line of reasoning was quite persuasive, and Minglan nodded.

“After Chang Ge’er’s birth, two more unremarkable years passed. Ye’er had finally made up his mind to form a match with the Yu family — but halfway through, the arrangement was switched to someone else.” Nanny Chang said with indignation, “I don’t take pleasure in speaking ill of the dead, but as for Yan Hong’s situation, that Madam really was…” She clicked her lips, took a sip of tea, and continued: “It would have been better if he had never married her at all! Before marrying her, Ye’er had at least been managing to muddle along — but after taking her as his wife, there was nothing but pandemonium; quarreling and fighting and noise every single day, with not a moment’s peace. Before long, Ye’er had a terrible falling-out with the old Marquis, and left the household alone, with nothing — from that point he was out in the world making his own way. It was only after he reached the south that he sent me a letter to say he was safe.”

Reaching this point in the story, Nanny Chang’s eyes grew moist again, and she wept as she spoke: “Poor dear Ye’er — raised from birth in silk and jade, with even his cups of tea seen to by attendants, and yet out in the world he was exposed to wind and rain, enduring hardship beyond imagining!”

Minglan sat up from the bed and reached out to gently pat Nanny Chang, saying softly: “Nanny, don’t cry — as they say, jade must be worked to become precious. Fortunately, Heaven had eyes, and the Marquis has emerged and made something of himself.” Nanny Chang raised her head, pressed her palms together in a gesture of prayer, and murmured in thanks to the Buddha: “The late Mistress watches over him from Heaven above — she didn’t let Ye’er live his whole life in sorrow.”

After a few more exchanges, someone called out loudly from outside: “The Marquis has returned!”

Nanny Chang wiped the corners of her eyes and rose to her feet. The side curtain was lifted and Gu Tingye came in carrying a swaddled bundle, with Nanny Cui following behind him, looking somewhat pained. He was laughing. “I just wanted to look at him sleeping peacefully for a moment — and the little one woke right up.”

“Don’t make excuses — you clearly disturbed him yourself,” Minglan said with an amused grimace.

Gu Tingye was still wearing his full scarlet court robes — he had come straight from morning court without even changing, eager to see his son, and had been holding him ever since, refusing to let go. Under Nanny Cui’s instruction, his technique was at least passable. He gazed at the infant and talked to himself with a smile: “In just a few days he already looks so much better. When he was first born he was all red and wrinkled — like a little red-skinned newborn pup.”

Minglan frowned. “And yet you kept saying how good-looking he was at the time!”

Gu Tingye laughed and shot back, “Well even if he was red and wrinkled, he was still better-looking than any other red-and-wrinkled baby!”

That made everyone in the room laugh. Nanny Chang leaned in for a look. The infant was already wide awake, not crying, not fussing — his features growing clearer and cleaner by the day, his eyes only half-open, looking drowsily about in every direction, still somewhat sleepy.

“The redder at birth, the fairer and rounder they grow! Has a name been decided?”

Gu Tingye smiled ruefully. “Things have been so hectic lately. I’ll wait until Master Gongsun returns and ask him to look into it.” He had no confidence in his own literary skills, and he loved the child too much to give him a name carelessly.

Nanny Chang said: “The formal name can wait, but let’s think of a pet name — something that rolls off the tongue and brings good fortune.” Gu Tingye thought this was very sensible and turned to ask Minglan, “What should he be called?”

Minglan said playfully, “I heard Xiaotao say that back in her home village, the most common names were things like Dog’s Leftover, Dog’s Egg, Little Dog, that sort of thing.”

Gu Tingye burst out laughing and gave Minglan a look. “What nonsense! There’s also Dogleg and Puppy — could you really bring yourself to call your son that?”

Nanny Chang smiled. “The Marquis doesn’t know about this custom — the more humble the name, the sturdier the child will grow. Even in grand households, if a sickly child is born, people will have his name written out and posted up all around for people to call out.”

“Is that so?” Gu Tingye looked doubtful.

Minglan glanced over at the chubby little ball and found him pleasingly pale and plump, as soft as a ball of glutinous rice. “Why not call him Tuan Ge’er?” she suggested.

Gu Tingye brightened immediately. “The character for ‘reunion’? That’s a fine character!”

Everyone in the room agreed — the name was auspicious, distinctive without being affected, and pleasant to say. And so it was settled.

They talked a while longer, then Nanny Chang rose to take her leave. After Gu Tingye had handed Tuan Ge’er over to Nanny Cui, he went to wash and change into informal clothes before returning to the room. Court affairs had evidently weighed heavily on his mind, for he sat down on the edge of the bed at once, kneading the bridge of his nose with weary fingers, and said to Minglan, “Move over a little. I need to lie down before dinner.”

Minglan had been sitting with Nanny Chang for half the day and was feeling the ache in her back herself. She had been about to lie flat and rest when she heard this and said with displeasure, “Didn’t we set aside a separate room for you? There are soft couches in the outer rooms too — what are you doing here crowding in with me?”

Gu Tingye could not be bothered to debate the point. He simply picked Minglan up bodily — blanket and all — and set her gently in the inner part of the bed, then dropped himself down beside her with a long exhale. “I’ve finally managed to give the Emperor a full account of the Huai region business. His Majesty is understandably impatient — but a chronic ailment of so many years cannot be cured in a morning. It will have to be done step by step.”

Hearing all the exhaustion in his voice, Minglan reached out to massage his temples. Gu Tingye caught her hand in both of his and pressed it to his cheek, turned his head sideways, and looked directly at her. “I’m sorry — I should have come back sooner.”

Minglan considered this, then said with a teasing smile, “Nanny Cui told me I actually had quite a smooth delivery. If it hadn’t been for all the trouble that came before, and the fire that came after — actually, it would have been fine even without you here.” Gu Tingye turned over and buried his face against Minglan’s side, murmuring, “It won’t be like this again in future.” Minglan stroked his thick, coarse hair. “Nanny Chang said the same thing.”

“What did you two talk about?” Gu Tingye asked, his breathing steady, eyes closed.

“About Man Niang,” Minglan said, watching for the man’s reaction.

Sure enough, Gu Tingye’s lashes moved, and he slowly opened his eyes and looked at her calmly. “How far did she get?”

“To the part where you left home alone.”

Gu Tingye slowly turned over and lay face to face with Minglan, heads almost touching side by side. “Then let me continue.”

Minglan lay flat and listened attentively.

“In truth, when Man Niang went to the Yu Mansion that time, I was somewhat displeased. But as always, she found a way to make the story cohere, and I believed her.” Gu Tingye’s voice was entirely calm, his hands folded at rest on his abdomen.

The Ningyuan Marquis Mansion at that time had been a nightmare — a father who did not understand him, a stepmother with a Buddha’s mouth and a serpent’s heart, uncles and cousins who enjoyed the Bai family’s money yet regarded him with contempt. Even retreating to his own rooms, he was surrounded by shrewd and calculating beauties placed there by others. Thwarted at every turn, constantly suppressed — only at Man Niang’s side was there any soft comfort to be found. There had been a period, once, when he had truly trusted Man Niang deeply.

Human beings are creatures of habit. Once you trust a person, their many actions begin to seem reasonable almost of their own accord.

“It was not until that day at Guangji Temple, when you said what you said — your words made a great deal of sense.”

It may have seemed unbelievable, but Minglan had been the only woman besides Man Niang with whom he had ever had a genuine conversation. That small girl, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, her face full of displeasure — yet she had not vented herself in a torrent of empty accusations, but had spoken seriously, with logic, presenting facts. He had turned the matter over in his mind again and again afterward, and no matter how he looked at it, everything Minglan had said was right.

If Man Niang had truly only ever wanted to be a concubine, there was absolutely no reason to cause a scene at the Yu Mansion.

People are deceived only because they never thought to look in that direction. But if you truly investigate, many people and many situations cannot hold up under scrutiny.

“Man Niang had a servant girl who had been with her for many years. Man Niang later gave her a dowry from her own funds and married her off somewhere far away. It took me a great deal of effort to find her. After some threatening and a combination of coaxing and pressuring, she finally opened her mouth.” Women who had husbands and children of their own could rarely maintain absolute loyalty.

“What that girl revealed was beyond all imagining. First, Man Niang’s elder brother — he had not abandoned his sister and fled at all. It was Man Niang who had urged him to go. It wasn’t until after Man Niang had given birth to both children that her brother made his supposed remorseful return. Man Niang pleaded and begged, the two put on a great performance together, and I forgave her brother — while all along thinking what a kind and good-natured person she was.”

Minglan said nothing. She lay looking blankly up at the canopy above the bed.

“Then there were the children. Nanny Chang had been right all along. It was Man Niang who had someone lure the herbal medicine practitioner into drinking, and then tampered with the medicinal herbs.” Gu Tingye’s voice was dry and flat, as though narrating a scene from some absurd comedy. “But I still could not quite believe it, so I had people from Man Niang’s house brought in for questioning. And in the questioning, something else entirely came to light.”

“What else did she do?” Minglan was beginning to feel revulsion herself.

Gu Tingye reached for her hand and held it firmly before continuing: “She found out about a tavern that Yan Hong’s personal servants frequented, had someone let slip information about her own whereabouts, and said a few things calculated to provoke. When Yan Hong heard the reports and was furious beyond herself, she went charging over. Man Niang had arranged everything — all she had to do was wait for me to ‘come to her rescue in the nick of time,’ after which I would be in open conflict with Yan Hong.”

Minglan let out a deep sigh. She shifted and turned over, hugging the man’s arm, pressing her face against it.

“Learning all of this, I was struck dumb for a moment.” Gu Tingye turned and held Minglan in his arms, his palms cold. “I went to confront her. She could not argue her way out, and so she finally told the truth. From start to finish she had always wanted to be the principal wife. Everything she had said before had been meant to deceive me.”

That day, in front of both children, he had grabbed Man Niang by the hair and dragged her out, interrogating her relentlessly. Seeing there was no escape, Man Niang had spoken plainly. In his fury he struck her across the face repeatedly — her cheeks swelled up purple and red — yet still she smiled at him through her tears. He remembered it clearly even now: the slanted afternoon light, amber and fading; Man Niang prostrate on the ground, both hands wrapped around his legs, her eyes brimming as she looked up at him — plaintive, pleading — still performing, still confessing in the most theatrical way imaginable that her love had been true, that she begged for his compassion, that she hoped he would take care of himself.

And yet within him, there was only a cold desolation. Everyone had deceived him, betrayed him, wronged him. Even this one person he had always trusted completely was no exception. Was there anyone left to be trusted? Was there anyone trustworthy left in this world?

“That night I went back to the mansion and had another fierce quarrel with Father. The more I said, the more outrageous my words became. I made Father so angry he coughed blood. He cursed me — said I was ‘willingly depraved, beyond saving, truly the base son of a base woman.’ I couldn’t bear to stay any longer. I left that same night. It wasn’t until I had gone far south that I sent Nanny Chang a letter to say I was safe.”

Minglan felt an ache in her heart. She pressed herself closer to his chest and sighed softly.

“After I left, Father searched for me for a long time. When he finally found me and sent the first letter, it was to summon me back to the mansion immediately — saying Yan Hong was with child.”

“What?!” Minglan was astonished. “That happened? Why did no one ever mention it?”

Gu Tingye wore a peculiar expression — something between a smile and contempt. “Because it was a profound disgrace — something that could not be spoken of before Heaven above or before those nearest below.”

Minglan had already guessed something of what was coming, but did not dare to speak it aloud.

“Father was extremely pleased. He took my hand and told me: you’re going to be a father now — you must grow up, behave well, stop causing trouble. But I told him: the child in Yan Hong’s belly would likely also be surnamed Gu, but it was not mine.”

At the time, the old Marquis had been thunderstruck and furious, accusing him of slander without cause. He had left the household more than a month before; Yan Hong was more than two months along — wasn’t the timing exactly right? Gu Tingye had said flatly: since the last time they quarreled over Man Niang, since Yan Hong had gone to cause a scene there, the two of them had not shared a bed.

The expression on his father’s face in that moment was something Gu Tingye would never forget for the rest of his life — that rage, that shock, that bone-deep shame and remorse. Yet in that moment he had been too caught up in his own pain. He had mocked and scorned the Gu household without restraint, condemning the whole of Ningyuan Marquis Mansion as a filthy cesspool with scarcely a clean person in it.

As for who had cuckolded him — he had no interest in finding out and couldn’t be bothered to ask. As far as he was concerned, there was not a single decent person in the Marquis Mansion.

“So — just how did Madam’s younger sister from the Yan family die?” Minglan asked in a low voice.

Gu Tingye’s expression darkened. “A botched termination — she died from hemorrhage. When the news reached us, Father was in the middle of discussions with Elder Master Yu. Yan Hong’s conduct had been wrong, but I never wished for her to pay with her life. Yet by the time we rushed to the separate residence, she was already gone.”

Minglan felt a chill come over her. What a way to go — and how fitting as retribution.

“Everyone assumed Yan Hong had been in a desperate hurry to terminate the pregnancy and died in the process. The Gu family, to avoid scandal, told the outside world she had died of illness. Elder Master Yu dared not make a fuss either, and the matter was closed.” Gu Tingye suddenly furrowed his brow. “Only I felt something was wrong.” After all they had been husband and wife, and Yan Hong was no fool. Knowing she would be exposed, why had she not terminated the pregnancy earlier, and instead allowed the Gu family to summon her back?

“What was wrong?” Minglan asked, puzzled.

“I had a personal attendant named Pinggui who had been thoroughly cultivated by Man Niang — he often spoke well on her behalf, and at the time I thought nothing of it. After I left the capital, I had not seen him for a long time.” Gu Tingye’s smile was full of cold menace. “But when I left the other residence that day, the gatekeeper said that only half a day earlier, Pinggui had come — saying he was there to convey a message from me. Yet I had sent no message of any kind!”

Minglan asked in alarm, “Can it have been Man Niang again?”

The most remarkable thing about Man Niang was that every time Gu Tingye only intended to pull a small thread, he inevitably ended up with an enormous tangled mass in his hands. Gu Tingye said with cold ferocity: “I seized Pinggui and questioned him, and he poured everything out.”

After Gu Tingye left the capital without a word of his whereabouts, Man Niang was as frantic as ants on a hot stove. Since Nanny Chang would not say a word, she had people watching the Ningyuan Marquis Mansion constantly — in particular, Yan Hong’s personal servants and their households. Before long, she had her reward. One day, Yan Hong made the excuse of returning to her family’s home, but midway through the journey her carriage changed course; Yan Hong wore a veiled hat and went in secret to see a physician.

Man Niang immediately went to find that physician. Not knowing who the patient was, and happy enough with the money, the physician said without hesitation that the veiled woman had been with child for two months. Man Niang was overjoyed beyond herself, and her mind began to calculate at once: she needed to get Gu Tingye back to the capital quickly, but could not let Yan Hong secretly deal with the problem and cover it up.

Pinggui’s sister served as a maid in the Gu household’s inner quarters. Everyone in the household knew that the second young master’s wife could not eat lotus root. She took the opportunity to put a small amount of lotus root starch into Yan Hong’s food — only enough to bring on a mild skin rash. But the virtuous Madam, not wanting the old Marquis to think that after Ye’er’s departure she had begun to neglect his daughter-in-law, insisted on having a physician called. The secret could not be kept.

After the matter was discovered, Yan Hong, frightened and panic-stricken, retreated to a separate residence and waited to learn her fate. At this moment, Pinggui arrived. He said that Gu Tingye did not wish to make a scandal of it — if Yan Hong terminated the child, once things had blown over, he would agree to a formal separation from her.

This bait was irresistible. Gu Tingye was already notorious, and had now abandoned the household entirely. If they separated, the whole capital would assume Gu Tingye was in the wrong — and she, too, could walk away unscathed. In a few years’ time, her parents, who doted on her, would arrange another match. Pinggui also emphasized that she had to act quickly — otherwise, if circumstances shifted, things would be very difficult. Yan Hong had every reason to comply. She had people go at once to obtain a powerful herbal remedy, and fearing the dosage insufficient, she took two doses at once. The child was expelled — but it also cost her her life.

Minglan listened to this and felt ice run through her veins. She was speechless. “…After all that, why would Man Niang still…?”

“Man Niang said she only wanted to make Yan Hong suffer a little, to get some of her own back.” Gu Tingye said with cold contempt. “But who could have known that instead she caused me to notice the irregularity? I confronted her the same night, told her everything, made the final break. From that point forward, it was done.”

After all of this, the old Marquis, beset on all sides, sick with anger and worry, soon fell ill and died. Gu Tingye had not made it back in time to see his father for the last time.

The full sequence of cause and effect was now clear to Minglan. Yet she could find no words. The two of them lay in long silence; after a while, Gu Tingye suddenly rolled over and looked down at Minglan, his eyes full of remorse. “Are you angry with me? Because I didn’t dispose of Man Niang.”

Minglan was startled, then gave a wry laugh. “Dispose of her — how?”

“Take her life?” She slowly sat up. Gu Tingye sat up too and faced her. “To be honest with you — if the Marquis had taken her life, I would absolutely not have been able to keep Rong Jie’er here. I would have had to send her far away. No matter how clearly Rong’er understood matters, blood is still blood between a mother and daughter. I would not dare gamble on that.”

“But if she were truly killed — that would be a punishment exceeding the crime.” Minglan had already turned this over in her mind several times. Yan Hong’s death: Man Niang could at most be charged with intimidation and deception. The incident where she had charged toward Minglan with the child: attempted, without completion. Neither of these offenses warranted a death sentence.