On the way to Kangshou Courtyard, amid Nanny Wang’s ceaseless chatter, Lang Jiuchuan gleaned quite a bit of information about the body she now inhabited.

For instance, though she was a child of the Second Branch, when ranked by seniority among the children of the same generation, she was ninth — because the First and Third Branch uncles had all married early, while her father Lang Zhengfan had married late and fathered children even later. By the time she was born, the children of the First and Third Branches had been sprouting up one after another like bamboo shoots after spring rain, and so when she finally arrived, she was ranked ninth.

“All the children of my generation take names from the character ‘Cai’ — yet my formal name is Jiuchuan?” Lang Jiuchuan asked with some curiosity.

Nanny Wang’s expression grew somewhat sorrowful at this. She sighed and said, “Ninth Young Miss, your name was given by the Second Master. Even while you were still in the womb, before he left for the campaign, he had already chosen a name for you. I’ve heard it was drawn from a line of poetry — this old servant has read very few books and cannot recall it — but the Second Mistress would know it best. What this old servant did catch, though, was that the Second Master hoped you would possess a heart as vast as the sea that embraces a hundred rivers.”

Lang Jiuchuan said, “Then he must be disappointed. I hold grudges, I am petty, and I have a rebellious streak. I repay wrongs on the spot. Embracing a hundred rivers — that is impossible.”

What was so appealing about being an ocean anyway? Taking responsibility for everything — wouldn’t that be exhausting?

Nanny Wang said, “Are you resentful of the Second Mistress?”

“The bond between parent and child may simply be thin — and this is not the only pair for whom that is true. I likely have no great standing to hold resentment.” After all, she was not the original soul. She could not feel what the original had felt, only register the simple weight of cause and effect.

Nanny Wang let out a long sigh. “The Second Mistress has not had it easy either. When she first married, she and the Second Master were parted far more than they were together. It took several years of marriage before she finally conceived — and then she endured a difficult labor, and the Second Master died in battle, all at once. It was too much, and her mind tilted. When a person’s nature turns askew, they easily begin to think in wrong ways. The Second Mistress is a pitiable person.”

Lang Jiuchuan said in a cool voice, “Is not the most pitiable one the Jiuchuan who was sent away as a small child? What wrong did she commit?”

By the time these words were spoken, they had already arrived at Anshou Courtyard.

A maidservant lifted the curtain and passed word inside, her gaze drifting involuntarily toward Lang Jiuchuan with an appraising look.

Lang Jiuchuan walked into the main hall, where several charcoal braziers were burning, and at once spotted the Old Madame — dozing against a large, indigo-colored bolster pillow embroidered with five bats surrounding the character for longevity, positioned by the south-facing window.

Beside her sat a young woman with her hair pinned up, her face round and full, her figure generously proportioned, her abdomen gently rounded — this was Mistress Pan, wife of Lang Caicheng, the illegitimate son of the First Branch, the Fourth Young Mistress, who had reportedly only married earlier that spring.

Mistress Pan was gently rousing the Old Madame. “Grandmother, Ninth Sister has come.”

The Old Madame’s eyelids stirred and slowly opened. Her gaze gradually came into focus, and only when she saw the young girl who had come to her side did she straighten up — with Nanny Wang’s support — and reach out a hand toward Lang Jiuchuan, smiling warmly. “My darling, Grandmother’s darling has come home.”

Lang Jiuchuan jolted inwardly.

My darling, come sleep in Grandmother’s bed and keep her warm.

My darling, you must not eat too many candied hawthorns — they stick to your teeth and bring the tooth-worms, you know — alright, alright, just one more then.

My darling, Grandmother misses your father so.

One image after another surfaced in her mind. Lang Jiuchuan glimpsed a child’s bright, delighted laughter, a younger version of the Old Madame, and then the Old Madame lying in bed, her spirits slowly dimming with each passing day.

So she had possessed warmth too, after all — a small but genuine warmth.

Lang Jiuchuan settled beside her naturally, looked at the Old Madame, and allowed a flash of faint gold to pass through her eyes as she observed the old woman’s vital fortune.

When she looked, her own face went a shade paler.

This body — if she did not recover soon, reading the fate and fortune of those near her would be genuinely harmful, especially for those close to her. It cost her more than it gave.

“Oh my, Grandmother’s darling — your hands are so cold! Quickly, quickly — add two more charcoal braziers, and bring the bed-warmer.” The Old Madame gripped Lang Jiuchuan’s hands with an expression full of tenderness, then called to Nanny Wang: “Guizhi, bring my little chest over.”

Lang Jiuchuan looked down at the hand holding hers — wrinkled and worn, the tendons and bones standing out plainly across the back.

Nanny Wang brought over a small chest. The Old Madame took it and, with the air of someone presenting a great treasure, pressed it into Lang Jiuchuan’s hands. “Here — it is all for Grandmother’s darling.”

Lang Jiuchuan opened it. Inside lay several exquisitely crafted pearl hair ornaments and small bracelets — all children’s jewelry.

But she had grown up already.

Then another item appeared in the chest: a handful of sweets wrapped in purple colored paper.

Lang Jiuchuan looked up. The Old Madame said proudly, “I haven’t given any to anyone else. I saved them all for my darling.”

She reached out and patted Lang Jiuchuan’s cheek, murmuring softly, “You’ve come home — that is what matters. You’ve come home.”

Her eyes had long since gathered wrinkles around them, and their brightness had dimmed to a cloudy haze, yet they were filled entirely with tenderness — not a trace of pretense.

Lang Jiuchuan exhaled a long breath and spoke softly. “Grandmother.”

At that single word, the Old Madame smiled until tears came, then picked up a piece of lotus cake from the small table beside her and held it to Lang Jiuchuan’s lips. “Eat — something sweet for your mouth.”

Lang Jiuchuan took the lotus cake between her teeth.

The Old Madame continued murmuring to herself, and before long her eyes had begun to drift shut again. After a few breaths, she opened them and looked at Lang Jiuchuan with a puzzled expression. “Are you my Faner? These eyes look just like his.”

Lang Jiuchuan: “……”

She watched as the Old Madame suddenly began to fuss like a small child, and was gradually coaxed back to sleep by the maidservants and Nannies.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Lang Jiuchuan tucked the Old Madame’s hand back under the covers and gazed at the old woman’s aged face, her eyes lowering slightly.

The Old Madame had grown old. And her remaining span of years was not long.

“Ever since the Old Madame fell ill when you were six, she began to grow confused — unable to remember people and events clearly. The imperial physicians all said it was from long-suppressed grief and worry. She kept thinking of the Second Master until the thinking itself made her ill — the one who truly lost her mind was her all along.” Nanny Wang spoke from one side. “The Old Madame never truly intended to leave you at the manor forever. She was afraid of you and the Second Mistress clashing like a needle against a spike of wheat, and she could not protect you if it came to that…”

Lang Jiuchuan listened quietly.

The Memorial Hall.

The closer it drew to dusk, the fewer people came to pay their respects — nearly none at all. In the memorial hall, all those who were not otherwise exempt — such as Mistress Pan with her pregnancy and those in poor health — were present and keeping vigil.

The Lang family members, young and old alike, knelt and sat in a group, the younger generation murmuring quietly among themselves about Lang Jiuchuan.

This was the first time most of them had ever met this sister of theirs, and she was nothing like they had imagined. Rustic she certainly was, and plain as well — but her temperament was not the timid, meek thing they had expected. Instead she was unhinged.

Ninth of the Lang family is a little unhinged — that was the impression she left on all of them at first meeting.

If she were not unhinged, how else could she have said something so offensive to an elderly man in the memorial hall? No — that went beyond offensive. She had made an enemy of him.

Never mind a frail old man — even someone their own age, if they had been cursed like that and told they were about to die, wouldn’t they have fought back?

And yet Ninth had gone ahead and done exactly that, and the family head had not punished her at all.

“It’s only because the mourning is still underway. Once the funeral is done, Father will surely give her what she deserves.” Lang Cailing said with a cold smile.

Lang Caiyao of the Third Branch neither agreed nor disagreed, but said nothing.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. She is Second Uncle’s only child, after all.” Lang Caiguang let out a scornful sound. “First Uncle won’t punish her.”

A flicker of jealousy crossed Lang Cailing’s eyes. “And what of it? She’s still the unwanted one…”

She felt a tug on her sleeve from Lang Caiyao, who tilted her head meaningfully toward the doorway.

Lang Cailing looked over, and her expression shifted. Cui Shi, who had left at some point, had returned without their noticing — and standing beside her was Lady Fan, her First Aunt by marriage, speaking in quiet tones.

Lady Fan’s cold gaze swept across the room, carrying with it an air of authority and warning.

Cui Shi also cast Lang Cailing a glance. She said nothing, but there was no warmth in her eyes.

Of course — Second Aunt was of the esteemed Qinghe Cui clan, known above all else for placing the utmost importance on a woman’s virtue and conduct. She had always disdained speaking ill of others behind their backs. Now that she had been caught saying such things about Lang Jiuchuan, who knew whether Second Aunt might think she was also embarrassing her and the Second Branch?

Lang Cailing thought of something her birth mother had once said — about wanting to adopt a brother of hers into the Second Branch as an heir — and a cold sweat instantly broke across her. She forced a stiff smile, adjusted her posture, and knelt properly.

Cui Shi walked in and came to stand before her. She said evenly, “The Daoist teachings emphasize: a gentleman exercises seven forms of caution, and if he is as careful at the end as at the beginning, he will suffer no failure. Be cautious in speech, to cultivate virtue. Be cautious in conduct, to strengthen resolve. May we both take this to heart.”

Lang Cailing stiffened from head to toe and lowered her head, her voice trembling. “I will humbly follow Second Aunt’s instruction.”