Qing Lan was enthusiastic as she discussed the poetry society matters with Mother Wu, and sent Chun Ling to seek advice from Lin Dongqi. Only after drafting the procedures did they realize how intricate and difficult every detail was to manage. The first challenge was deciding whom to invite.

Lin Dongqi was a young lady, so she could simply invite other ladies and young misses, but Qing Lan was a concubine. If she didn’t invite other beloved concubines, it would show poor social awareness and lead to future ostracism in official circles.

However, inviting them might upset the primary wives. Just finalizing the guest list became an endless deliberation. Then there were matters of refreshments, dishes, expenses, shopping, and poetry topics to consider, among countless other details.

Qing Lan, coming from a humble background, had never learned about such things. She had little experience with social interactions and formal occasions, and having never handled such matters before, she grew frustrated listening to Mother Wu and Chun Ling’s back-and-forth discussions. Though she didn’t want to do this, she had already given her word and had to push through.

Initially, she tried to maintain enthusiasm while giving directions, but the more she tried to manage, the more chaotic things became. Later, she would complain of headaches one day and backaches the next, delegating all tasks to Mother Wu. Yet she still wanted to excel, insisting everything must be impeccable and impressive. After Mother Wu and others would exhaustively complete one task, Qing Lan would find countless faults with it. After four or five days, they had made absolutely no progress.

Qing Lan hadn’t put Xiang Lan in charge of this matter, only using her for errands. Xiang Lan was quite content with this arrangement. One day, as Xiang Lan was making undergarments in her room, she saw Mother Wu walk in holding her waist, and quickly stood up asking, “What’s wrong, Mother?”

Mother Wu sighed, “One word from the Honored Concubine has us running our legs off.” She sat down on Xiang Lan’s bed. Xiang Lan used her cup to pour Mother Wu some tea.

Mother Wu complained with heavy sighs, “I don’t know what our Honored Concubine is thinking. We haven’t even finalized the guest list or written a single invitation, yet she spends every day obsessing over what dishes to serve. When I suggested hiring outside chefs, she complained it was too expensive. But she’s not satisfied with our kitchen maids’ cooking either. When we prepare shopping lists for ingredients, she crosses out half of them, telling me we can’t spend fifty taels at once, a maximum of ten taels… This, this, this! Wanting to save face but not wanting to spend money – these old bones of mine can’t handle it anymore. Let whoever wants to do it take over!” She took a sip of tea and sneered, “Without the proper skills, she takes on a delicate task, then doesn’t do it herself but finds fault with everything. No wonder people say those from humble backgrounds are always penny-pinching.”

Hearing Mother Wu’s complaints, Xiang Lan slightly furrowed her brow. Qing Lan was merely a favored concubine of Lin Jinlou, while Mother Wu was Lin Jinlou’s wet nurse. Though a servant, she commanded respect even before the Madam. Mother Wu’s attendance to Qing Lan during her pregnancy was somewhat directed by Madam Qin. Rather than “serving” the concubine, it was more about using Mother Wu’s status to keep other wives and concubines from harboring improper thoughts. However, this Concubine Lan seemed to have missed Madam Qin’s intention and treated Mother Wu like a common servant. Mother Wu, having been a servant in this grand household for decades, was typically shrewd about concealing her emotions, yet now openly mocked Qing Lan as “penny-pinching due to humble origins,” showing her extreme displeasure.

Moreover, when grand households host gatherings, the face is paramount. If one wants to maintain face, money must be spent liberally. While avoiding waste is commendable, it’s impossible to avoid extravagance altogether. Though Qing Lan was usually generous with servants, that only extended to giving away her old clothes or unwanted accessories – small items. Now that real silver was needed, she naturally felt the pain.

Xiang Lan initially didn’t want to get involved, but seeing Mother Wu’s exhausted face, she felt sympathetic. Being kindhearted by nature, she thought for a moment and said, “Why not ask Second Miss about who was invited to the previous poetry society gathering?”

Mother Wu replied, “The Honored Concubine’s status is different from the Second Miss’s.”

Xiang Lan understood immediately and smiled, saying, “Mother, you’re overthinking this. Why worry about writing separate invitations for each concubine? Just write generally ‘inviting the ladies of such-and-such household’ on the invitation, and they can bring whoever they wish.”

Mother Wu was startled, then clapped her hands and laughed, “Indeed! We were confused. The Honored Concubine insisted on confirming every single attendee, which left me at my wit’s end.”

Xiang Lan continued, “Just estimate the total number of guests. However, we need to know who gets along with whom, who doesn’t, and who should be seated together. Also important are dietary restrictions – which ladies are Buddhist vegetarians, which prefer meat dishes.”

Lost in thought, she failed to notice Mother Wu’s surprised expression and continued gracefully, “We don’t need too many guests. Ten or so prestigious attendees would suffice. Including our household’s ladies and young misses, twenty-some people would make for a lively gathering – too many would be inappropriate. Though the Honored Concubine’s budget is small, there are ways to manage it with limited funds. Grand households often tire of expensive delicacies, so why not bring fresh fruits and vegetables from our estate? I recall Master owns the Shun Fu Restaurant, and I’ve heard their chefs can make dishes with flowers that are both novel and beautiful. Why not invite them to prepare a Hundred Flowers Banquet? It’s not about the food itself but the novelty. We have plenty of flowers in our garden to pick from. However, ten taels is still too little – such a banquet would require at least thirty taels…”

Just then, Yin Die entered and, seeing Mother Wu sitting on Xiang Lan’s bed in seemingly intimate conversation, felt uncomfortable. She said, “I just went to the kitchen to get some lotus root to make porridge for the Honored Concubine. Since Old Woman Fang wasn’t there, the steward asked me to inform Mother.” Her eyes caught the white porcelain cup in Mother Wu’s hands, which she thought was hers, making her more uncomfortable. She muttered, “Someone’s quite good at using others’ things to curry favor.” Looking at the table, she saw her cup still there and fell silent.

Mother Wu noticed but pretended not to, saying flatly, “I understand, you may go.” After Yin Die left, she asked Xiang Lan, “Where do you think we should hold the poetry society? The Honored Concubine wants to use Jianqiu Pavilion.”

Xiang Lan thought for a moment and said, “The Madam favors Jianqiu Pavilion, wouldn’t it seem confrontational if we use it? Ronggui Residence is empty now and has become a flower house. Why not use that? It’s quiet, requires little cleaning, has plenty of flowers and plants, and would be perfect for composing poetry.”

Mother Wu’s eyes crinkled with laughter as she held Xiang Lan’s hand, “My good girl, I never realized you had such insight, truly surpassing the one inside. How did you learn all this?”

Xiang Lan grew alert and lowered her head, “I previously heard my cousin Miss mention such matters about hosting gatherings in her household. Don’t praise me, Mother, I’m just copying what I’ve heard.”

Mother Wu just smiled, patting Xiang Lan’s hand.

Yin Die stood outside the door, lifting the curtain slightly to peek, but couldn’t hear their lowered voices clearly, which frustrated her. Her eyes darted about, then she ran to report to Qing Lan, “Ever since Master gave her that ointment, Xiang Lan has been acting superior, and now she’s currying favor with Mother Wu. She must be plotting something!”

Qing Lan had never considered Mother Wu particularly important, and she disliked Yin Die, so she scolded, “Just do your duties and stop bothering me with such nonsense!”

Yin Die could only slink away dejectedly.

After this, Mother Wu frequently consulted Xiang Lan about the poetry society matters. Initially, she would consider Xiang Lan’s suggestions, but gradually realized Xiang Lan’s ideas were far superior to her own. Later, she asked Qing Lan to let Xiang Lan help manage the poetry society affairs, allowing others to take orders from Xiang Lan while she supervised from behind. Xiang Lan tried to decline, but Mother Wu said, “After the poetry society matter is concluded, you’ll get half a month’s leave and an extra month’s wages.”

Xiang Lan bit her lip and agreed, saying, “However, to others, say that I’m just helping Mother with the arrangements. If things go well, all credit goes to the Honored Concubine and Mother, with no connection to me whatsoever.”

Hearing this, Mother Wu looked Xiang Lan up and down several times before nodding, “Very well, we’ll do as you say.”