The Ye family’s New Year passed quietly.
For everyone it was tolerable enough, but for A’Cuo this New Year was particularly special — it was her first year at the Ye household. Although her grandfather was loving, he was getting on in years and could not manage all the household affairs, which had been entrusted to the steward’s wife. So the New Year’s celebrations at his home had not been very lively either — just grandfather and granddaughter keeping each other company.
But the atmosphere in the Wutong Courtyard was quite another matter entirely.
All of New Year’s Eve was one unceasing flurry of activity. The kitchen had not stopped since the night before — frying things through the night, dispatching all manner of gift boxes to old family friends throughout the capital, while gifts of every kind poured in: dried fruits, preserved fruits, pastries, sweets, piled up like small mountains. Even Yanyan had been spoiled for choice, to say nothing of A’Cuo.
Yanyan was quite the character, too. Even though everything was already her own family’s property, she insisted on hoarding. She and A’Cuo slept in the same bed during winter — the canopied bed Lady Ye had left behind, with cupboards along three sides that had originally been meant for needlework, bolts of silk, and small sundry items. Yanyan had packed them like a squirrel with snacks and preserved treats of every kind. A’Cuo had been patient with her, but then Yanyan chose the New Year’s season to rotate her hoard — sorting out the old snacks from the cupboards piece by piece and replacing them with new ones. A’Cuo bore it for a while, but finally could bear it no longer, and ran to Ye Lingbo to complain: “Second Sister, Yanyan has been hoarding pastries and knocked crumbs all over the bed!”
Even Ye Lingbo was amused. She was in the middle of arranging the noon banquet menu, and she comforted A’Cuo: “It’s alright — she has this strange habit that flares up every New Year. You just have to endure it for a bit. Either way, the bedding all gets changed to new, and when we go to the New Year’s Eve dinner and come back, Yang Niangzi will have everything sorted out for you.”
A’Cuo could only grit her teeth and bear it, wondering how on earth Yanyan had acquired such a bad habit. It was not as though A’Cuo herself had grown up with any more to eat, and yet she had not turned into this — hoarding enough food to last until the next New Year, like someone possessed by a starving ghost.
She was still irritated at Yanyan when another person walked straight into the line of fire.
The Cui family and the Ye family had severed ties, but the Wei family — for some unclear reason, perhaps because Madam Wei felt a pang of guilt over the fact that Lu Wenyin had wronged Ye Lingbo — had not broken with the Ye family at all. On the contrary, they had sent lavish New Year’s gifts as a gesture of goodwill: in addition to medicinal herbs and silk bestowed as imperial gifts, there was a whole sika deer, along with numerous muntjac and roe deer and other wild game. The steward himself came in to deliver the message: “Madam says that these are from the young marquis, who accompanied His Majesty to the palace to hunt in the deer park. The young miss is invited to keep them and enjoy them. And if there is not enough, more can be sent.”
Madam Wei was rather careless — she knew vaguely that Lady Ye had passed away and that the household was now managed by the second wife, but had not worked out the actual relations involved. The gifts nearly went to the main courtyard by mistake, giving Pan Yurong an empty flutter of excitement and even startling Master Ye, who assumed the Wei Marquis household was taking the initiative to cultivate ties with him.
Ye Lingbo had no shortage of harsh words for the Wei family, but she accepted the gifts all the same, dispatching Yang Niangzi directly to retrieve everything right in front of Pan Yurong’s face. Pan Yurong passed word to Master Ye that the youngest daughter had been suffering dreadfully from the cold lately and truly needed the deer blood for her health. Yang Niangzi gave a witty reply: “Madam need not worry — the deer are all frozen solid. Once we’ve dragged them back and thawed them out, we’ll certainly drain the blood and send it over to Madam.”
Whether those in that courtyard would dare to actually drink it was another matter entirely.
With the gifts delivered, Wei family servants naturally entered the Wutong Courtyard, and A’Cuo knew at once that Wei Yushan must have had something in motion. Sure enough, an unfamiliar little maid came to pass along a message: “Miss A’Cuo, the young marquis asked me to bring you a message — he says he has something he wishes to say to you.”
A’Cuo was thoroughly unimpressed.
“If he has something to say, why doesn’t he say it himself instead of sending someone to pass messages? Couldn’t he have said something when he came to pay New Year’s greetings? All this back-and-forth — what’s the point? Sneaking around like this — what does he take me for?”
When the message was relayed back, Wei Yushan immediately asked Madam Wei which day in the new year they would be going to pay their New Year’s respects at the Ye household. As it happened, Cui Jingyu was also at the table — Madam Wei was so vexed she kept kicking Wei Yushan under the table, trying to get him to stop asking.
Besides the Wei family, one other household from the Northern Frontier Army also sent gifts — it was Fu Yunrui. Though her gifts were not as plentiful as Madam Wei’s, she had chosen each item with care. Ye Qinglan cherished this gesture deeply and sent substantial gifts back in return. She also instructed that several boxes of the more elaborate and difficult-to-make foods from the household’s kitchen be sent along with them, so Fu Yunrui would have something fitting to serve guests over the New Year.
Ye Lingbo happened to be nearby at the time, and simply remarked, “Miss Fu’s days cannot be easy now, I’m afraid.”
“What has happened to her?” Ye Qinglan did not understand.
“It is only the shadow of a suspicion. I will explain in detail later,” Ye Lingbo said.
The Shen family, naturally, was in far closer contact — by lunchtime they had even sent over a food box: the Shen family’s finest dishes. Ye Qinglan likewise sent gifts back, and when the servants returned, each one was beaming with joy, saying that the young mistress of the Shen household had given generous rewards — a small gold ingot per person.
“Truly, Han Elder Sister is generous,” Ye Lingbo said at once. “When the Han family’s people come for dinner this evening, we should also give out gold ingots.”
“Why compare yourself to that — Yueqi is not an outsider,” Ye Qinglan said, laughing despite herself.
“That is precisely why. Since Han Elder Sister is not an outsider, of course we reward our own people first. Our shop turned such a large profit this year — and there is every reason to reward our own.” Then Ye Lingbo grew wistful: “If only Aunt were still here — she would certainly have loved this liveliness. That year she gave every person in our household a gold leaf. Liu Ji was so happy he couldn’t sleep at night — he counted them over and over until dawn.”
“Now the young miss is teasing my brother again,” Xiao Liu’er protested.
Yet Ye Lingbo’s words cast a quiet melancholy over everyone all the same. A’Cuo’s eyes even grew misty, and she said, “Second Sister, I want to visit my aunt.”
“You’ll have to wait until after the New Year, when the ancestors are honored,” Ye Lingbo gently told her. “Don’t worry. Our household’s custom is to light incense on New Year’s Eve and leave a fine table of dishes for my mother — Aunt will certainly come too.”
At noon, a table was indeed set aside, and A’Cuo, fearful that Madam Meng might not find her way, earnestly knelt before the Buddha shrine and prayed for a long time. The Ye sisters knew her heart was sincere, and none of them laughed at her — they even joined her in offering prayers.
The noon meal itself was, of course, lavishly abundant. Ye Lingbo, worried that A’Cuo might grow sad, deliberately teased her: “Eat more at noon. Who knows if there will be poison in the food at that side tonight.”
“Ye Lingbo,” Ye Qinglan said in disapproval. “Don’t frighten A’Cuo — that side’s banquet is hosted by Old Madam. How could it possibly be poisoned? Don’t say such strange things.”
“Do you see that even Qinglan thinks the food at the main courtyard might be poisoned?” Ye Lingbo still teased A’Cuo. “If you see Concubine Pan, stay as far away from her as you can. She’s full of scheming and malice.”
“And Master Ye as well,” Yanyan added.
“Yes, Master Ye is no good either,” said Ye Lingbo.
As it turned out, Ye Lingbo’s words proved prophetic.
Her relationship with “Master Ye” had always been the worst of the three sisters. Ye Qinglan was proper and decorous; Yanyan was young; both could at least maintain a surface civility with Master Ye and were at least willing to call him “Father.” Ye Lingbo, however, was another matter entirely. When Lady Ye had been bedridden, Pan Yurong had seized the struggle for household management — the battle had been vicious, and Master Ye’s heart had twisted along with it, taking sides with Pan Yurong and inflicting all manner of mistreatment upon his legitimate wife. Ye Lingbo resented Old Madam Ye for this very reason — as Old Madam, she had failed in her own conduct, refusing to uphold justice, allowing Master Ye and Pan Yurong to collude and favor the concubine over the proper wife. After Lady Ye’s death, when the sisters had struggled through their most difficult years, Old Madam Ye had not lifted a finger to help. It was only after Pan Yurong truly became the second wife and began showing disrespect toward Old Madam Ye that she had any regrets. By the time she tried to win back the three sisters’ hearts, the Wutong Courtyard had already weathered the hardship and no longer had any need of her.
Although Ye Qinglan’s heart was every bit as resolute as Ye Lingbo’s on the inside, she still maintained outward propriety, and did not strictly forbid Yanyan from interacting with Old Madam Ye — only told her not to get close to the main courtyard side.
Ye Lingbo was more obvious about it. From the time Lady Ye had died seven years ago, she had never once given the main courtyard a pleasant expression. Through the most difficult period, she — then only twelve years old — had worked alongside sixteen-year-old Ye Qinglan to gather and manage Lady Ye’s dowry assets, gradually cutting their ties with the main courtyard so that they need no longer be subject to its constraints. She had raised Yanyan well, and they lived a flourishing life, which made her opposition to the main courtyard all the more absolute.
The one New Year’s Eve dinner each year at Old Madam Ye’s table was already the greatest forbearance she could extend to the main courtyard. And it was not even for Master Ye’s sake or Old Madam Ye’s face — it was purely out of consideration for Ye Qinglan and Yanyan’s reputations, for fear that the capital’s gossip would grow too outrageous. Although everyone knew that Master Ye had favored his concubine over his wife and wronged Lady Ye, the weight of filial piety still pressed down on them. So Ye Lingbo was willing to hold her nose and share one meal a year.
But she had not expected that Master Ye — perhaps because life had been going a little more smoothly for him these past two years — would make his move before she even said a word.
Of course, Concubine Pan had whispered plenty into his ear as well. Master Ye had always been a muddleheaded man, with no softness of heart at all — cold and mean to the bone, and even cruel when it came to it. Otherwise Pan Yurong would not have needed more than a few provocations to make him turn against his own legitimate wife. With Concubine Pan’s many schemes and his own hard heart working in unison, they were two of a kind. So even at the height of the New Year festivities, there was no peace to be had.
Originally, when the three Ye sisters arrived with A’Cuo in tow — all dressed alike in red-embroidered satin new clothes, their lips red and teeth white, each one remarkable in her own way — as they bowed in greeting, they were like a row of flowers: “We wish Old Ancestor a blessed New Year, with good health and long life.”
Old Madam Ye, as the family elder, was naturally delighted at the sight and promptly had Nanny Wu distribute the customary gifts — a jeweled hairpin and bolts of silk for each of them, along with silver and gold ingots for the Wutong Courtyard servants, as a reward for their diligent service.
But Master Ye and Pan Yurong were not possessed of any such kind-heartedness. Pan Yurong was the smiling sort of schemer, and she too offered a few compliments: “These children look lovelier with every passing year — what a lovely group. If only my Yin Zhang were this well-behaved.”
Pan Yurong had risen to be legitimized as second wife on the strength of that “birth of a son” she had dangled as bait — though later, whether from an excess of wickedness or some other cause, the child had died young. The name she had given her daughter, Ye Yin Zhang, had been kept, however. Although other prominent families in the capital also valued sons highly, it was unusual to inscribe that desire so blatantly into a daughter’s name, and it had inevitably become one of the targets of ridicule among other matrons — this desperate wanting of a son was so nakedly common.
Ye Lingbo was too bored to bother responding and simply let out a light scoff. At that, Master Ye’s expression grew a little unsightly. Old Madam Ye had grown shrewder over the years and, unlike previous years, made no attempt to mediate or call for the sisters to pay their greetings to Master Ye. And so the sisters simply stood without doing so. Only Ye Qinglan said, “Father, may you have peace and health in the new year.” Even Yanyan was occupied asking Nanny Wu about the evening’s menu.
Master Ye was naturally seething inside. The celebration moved to the flower hall, where the banquet was laid, fireworks were set off outside, and Yanyan ran back and forth pulling A’Cuo out to watch. The adults were all smiling pleasantly — all except Master Ye, who had the look of someone coiling himself for a strike. Ye Lingbo was already on guard by then.
Sure enough, the moment they were at the dinner table, Concubine Pan began her opening move. The New Year’s Eve dinner hosted by Old Madam Ye, whatever one might say about the cooking, left nothing wanting in terms of ingredients. There was a dish of eight-treasure stuffed goose that not even the Wutong Courtyard could have produced. At the sight of it, Concubine Pan smiled and said, “Old Madam is truly remarkable. Matrons all over the capital have praised this eight-treasure goose — Madam Chen was telling me just a few days ago that no matter how her family’s cook tries to imitate it, the result is never quite right.”
“If Madam Chen is fond of it, just have someone send her a couple of portions,” Old Madam Ye said mildly.
Shrewd from long years of experience, the old tiger still had her authority. She was intimately familiar with the social rounds of the capital. Sending dishes was perfectly acceptable, but she would never let the recipe out of the house — it was to be kept as a treasure for her own granddaughters when they married.
Concubine Pan had not really been interested in the dish at all. Hearing this, she smiled and said, “What a kind thought — except I am afraid it may not be possible to send this year.”
She was plainly spoiling for trouble. Old Madam Ye couldn’t be bothered to take the bait — this was one of the rare family gatherings of the year, and she had no intention of being used as a weapon. But Master Ye was a different matter entirely. He immediately frowned: “Why can it not be sent? Minister Chen and I are of the same examination cohort — staying close is always a good thing.”
“My lord is absolutely right,” said Concubine Pan, with pointed implication. “But it is not that I am unwilling to send — it is that they are unwilling to receive. Our family has made a serious enemy of the Chen household this time. Miss Chen has been confined to her chambers, and it is uncertain whether she will even be allowed out for the Lantern Festival. Madam Chen is heartbroken over it and has sent us no return gifts this New Year — she is truly offended. And when you consider that our two families were actually on the verge of forming a marriage alliance — a fine connection of kin, severed just like that. What a pity.”
Ye Lingbo, with her razor-sharp mind, had already guessed where this was heading, and immediately let out a cold laugh. She was sitting directly across from Master Ye, and he, who had been waiting for just such a pretext to erupt, saw her expression and immediately flew into a rage.
“You insolent girl — you still have the audacity to laugh?” he thundered. “What business did you have making an enemy of the Chen family? Disgracing yourself, and stirring up all that talk across the capital — did you think I knew nothing about it?”
Ye Qinglan immediately came to her defense.
“Father, please calm yourself. I was also present that day — it was truly Miss Chen who was rude first. Otherwise the Chen family would not have confined their own daughter. If Madam Chen is no longer on visiting terms with our family, the fault lies in her own guilt. Concubine Pan was not at the Flower Festival Banquet and does not know the whole story — Father has been misled, which is understandable. Today is New Year’s Eve. Why bring anger into this? Not only is it a bad omen, but it also wrongs Ye Lingbo. Why put ourselves through this?”
Her words were gentle, yet every sentence was a needle wrapped in silk. She addressed Pan Yurong as “Concubine” without any elevation in title, and subtly pointed out that Pan Yurong lacked the standing to enter the circle of matrons at the Flower Festival Banquet. Her tone was soft, but she did not yield a single inch — and yet she came across as more composed and fair than Master Ye himself, more like the calm and just head of the household.
Master Ye held a degree of respect for Ye Qinglan, and seeing that she had spoken reasonably and with propriety, he somewhat let the fire die down. Ye Qinglan also gave Ye Lingbo’s shoulder a comforting pat. Ye Lingbo understood that she was asking her not to ruin the New Year’s Eve dinner, and gave her face — settling for a cold smile without saying a word.
But Concubine Pan was not about to let matters rest.
“Elder Young Miss’s words are rather one-sided,” she said with a smile. “I may not have been able to enter the circle of matrons at the Flower Festival Banquet, but I give everything I have for my lord — calling on guests, managing the comings and goings, presenting festival gifts. I have not slacked in a single thing. As for the young misses, they can attend the Flower Festival Banquet — and yet they have no regard whatsoever for our family’s reputation. Our women’s affairs are small things, I know — what matters are my lord’s great affairs at court. You spend your days cultivating ties with the Shen family, visiting back and forth, throwing out gold ingots to reward servants — spending lavishly with both hands, taking in little and pouring out much. And we say nothing. But the Shen family gives not an ounce of support to my lord outside these walls, and has in fact thrown many obstacles in his way. I worked hard to build a connection with the Chen family, and Second Young Miss went and wrecked it. Is it any wonder my lord is angry? Elder Young Miss ought to think about my lord’s career as well.”
Concubine Pan’s speech, barbed from beginning to end, extinguished the fire Ye Qinglan had just managed to put out and set it blazing again — every word targeted precisely at what cut Master Ye most deeply. Master Ye’s brow grew more and more furrowed as he listened, his face flushing with suppressed fury, until he could hold it in no longer. “A pack of useless creatures!” he burst out. “Always undoing more than they accomplish! What do they know of the greater picture!”
Had he been scolding only Ye Lingbo, it might have been bearable — but when his words extended to Ye Qinglan, Ye Lingbo could endure it no longer.
Fortunately, Ye Qinglan had had enough as well. Ye Lingbo let out a cold laugh and said, “You are absolutely right — what would we know of the greater picture? Since Master Ye is so motivated and has always dreamed of currying favor with the Chen family, there is a very convenient solution: I have heard that there are still spots to be filled among Minister Chen’s students. Master Ye may as well go fill one. In fact — why wait for the New Year’s Eve dinner? Pack up your things right now and go kowtow to Minister Chen for New Year’s greetings. Don’t wait too long or it’ll be too late!”
When it came to cleverness and schemes, there might yet be a handful of young ladies in the capital who could be counted as Ye Lingbo’s rivals. But when it came to cutting words, Ye Lingbo was without question in a class of her own.
Her mother had not died too early nor too late — she died when Ye Lingbo was exactly twelve. Had it been later, she would have been shaped like Ye Qinglan, educated into a proper young lady who read too much of the sages and could not say anything truly cutting. Had it been earlier, she would have been shielded and carefree like Yanyan, too naive to have any truly sharp words to throw.
As it was, she fell right in between, as the second daughter. At twelve she had already been old enough to understand, and had witnessed the ugly spectacle of Master Ye favoring his concubine and mistreating his wife. And because she had taken up household management and the running of shops, she had rubbed shoulders with the ways of ordinary people — everyone around her had been the likes of Yang Niangzi and those household managers, each one an expert in strategy and a champion in the art of verbal warfare. And so she had also mocked herself, saying that Ye Qinglan was a person of refinement, while she herself was a person of the common world.
But only this common-world person could, in just a few sentences, reduce Master Ye to spluttering, red-faced speechlessness — pointing and repeating “you, you, you” without managing a single complete word.
Concubine Pan was quicker to recover. She sprang to her feet at once: “Second Young Miss must have lost her mind — such defiance! Come — someone restrain her at once!”
“You dare!” Ye Qinglan’s expression changed instantly. She kept her guard up against the main courtyard at all times, and said sharply, “Old Madam has not yet spoken. You are a mere concubine — you dare lay hands on a young miss?”
Concubine Pan immediately began wailing piteously, clutching Master Ye’s arm: “My lord, look at them — they have turned the world upside down. They are not even married yet and it has already come to this. If they ever gain the upper hand, will there be any place left in this house for us?”
She was well aware that this was the most serious threat she faced. At this year’s Flower Festival Banquet, dukes’ sons, marquis families, prominent noble clans, and scholarly gentlemen had all come forward to take notice. Though each of the three sisters had her own complications — Ye Qinglan was past the ideal age, Ye Lingbo’s temperament was crooked, and Yanyan was still too young — their foundations were solid. And that A’Cuo was a particular menace. If even one of them were to marry well, Concubine Pan’s comfortable life would be finished.
So she had schemed day and night for this: she would use the New Year’s Eve dinner to turn the household upside down. Ideally, she would get Master Ye to invoke paternal authority and place the sisters under house arrest. At the very least, she would taint their reputations — spread word of their defiance and insolence, ruin their marriage prospects, and secure her own lifelong prosperity.
But how could Ye Lingbo let her have her way?
Ye Lingbo had already seen through Concubine Pan’s true target. She simply let out a cold laugh and said, “Concubine Pan, you can stop your wailing too. I came to eat — as a courtesy to Old Madam. Since you choose to throw that courtesy away, then we need not eat at all.”
She had signaled this far enough, and Old Madam Ye was no fool — she immediately erupted: “What is all this quarreling?! It is the New Year! Everyone says that family harmony brings all things to flourishing — listen to the things you are all saying. Is this how a great family conducts itself? I am not yet dead, and already you speak of who is defiant and who is not? All of you settle down this instant!”
Whether Master Ye was truly persuaded by Old Madam Ye or simply shocked into submission by the line “who are you to speak of defiance” was another matter — but he fell silent either way. Concubine Pan, however, refused to be quiet. She knew perfectly well that Old Madam Ye would never truly report Master Ye for defiance — otherwise, what would become of the prosperity of her remaining years? She was emboldened by this knowledge and dared to press on: “Old Madam is absolutely right, of course. But this style of behavior from the Wutong Courtyard has had deep roots for a long time. Back when the Lady was alive…”
Before she could finish the sentence, a slap landed square across her face — Ye Lingbo had moved like lightning. The moment Concubine Pan brought her late mother into it, she struck.
“You insolent child!” “How dare you hit someone!” In an instant, both Master Ye and Concubine Pan erupted in fury. The main courtyard’s household managers and maids surged forward — but Ye Lingbo had been prepared. The Wutong Courtyard routinely kept formidable and capable women on hand, and they had been waiting for precisely this moment. Yang Niangzi, Lin Niangzi, Luo Niangzi all stepped in to block the way, murmuring things like, “Concubine, please don’t be upset, our young miss’s fire ailment has flared up again,” and “Concubine, please don’t lower yourself to bicker with the young ones” — forming a human wall that held everything back. Ye Lingbo was already free and clear, standing on the other side of the wall with a cold smile.
“I struck you, and I’d strike you again — Pan Yurong, who do you think you are? Back when you were a maidservant in my mother’s chambers, you didn’t show such boldness. Who was it that nearly got sold to a brothel by a drunken father, and begged my mother to buy her? And who was it that took advantage of my mother’s illness to seduce her husband? Master Ye may enjoy your sort — I won’t indulge it. A slave who turns on her mistress is supposed to be executed by a thousand cuts. You will never sleep soundly for the rest of your life. I will come for you eventually.” She laughed freely from within the press of people: “It’s just a meal. As if my family has no food of its own. Do we need to suffer your expressions?”
Without any signal needed, Ye Qinglan moved in to shield her, stepping forward and bowing to Master Ye: “Father, please calm yourself. Ye Lingbo’s fire ailment has flared — it was not her intention to offend the Concubine. Ye Lingbo, stop saying these wild things and go back at once. Yang Niangzi, Lin Niangzi, please escort the young miss out…”
The two sisters had worked in perfect coordination — the blow had been landed, and now the one to take responsibility had stepped forward. Ye Lingbo walked away without a scratch. Concubine Pan, naturally, was not about to let it go. She burst into loud weeping and clung to Master Ye’s arm, demanding that he punish Ye Lingbo. Master Ye was just opening his mouth to turn on Ye Qinglan when Old Madam Ye’s sharp voice cut through: “Enough! It is the New Year’s season — what is all this commotion?! Someone — escort the Second Young Miss back, and let her reflect on her conduct behind closed doors. We gather together so rarely in a year. If you keep making a scene and alert the clan, there will be no end to it.”
That Old Madam Ye would show such partiality toward the Wutong Courtyard was something Concubine Pan had not anticipated. Master Ye, who was a scholar and cared greatly about face, was afraid of alerting the clan and being laughed at. Even when Concubine Pan tugged at his arm and demanded he take action, he only set his face coldly and refused to speak.
But A’Cuo refused to go along with it. She immediately said in a muffled, stubborn voice, “I am going back with Second Sister too.”
She was after all the most devoted to Ye Lingbo of anyone — right or wrong did not enter into it; she simply wanted to follow wherever Ye Lingbo went. To everyone else, Ye Lingbo had already struck her blow, said her piece, and walked away without a mark on her — this was a complete victory. And yet A’Cuo was still feeling aggrieved on her behalf.
Ye Qinglan was both amused and moved, and gave A’Cuo a gentle pat on the back to comfort her.
Old Madam Ye looked at this cousin-niece with new appraisal — she could see that the three sisters held her in high regard. With looks like hers, she was hardly going to remain a dependent in someone else’s household forever. Even if she were to enter a prince’s household as a side consort, her station would be an enviable one.
“Someone — send a full New Year’s Eve dinner table over to the Wutong Courtyard,” Old Madam Ye said with the authority of a great household’s matron, even in the act of trying to win A’Cuo’s goodwill. She made it seem as effortless as a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface — without a trace of Pan Yurong’s eager desperation. She sighed and said, “I know — I am old now. None of you regard me as you once did. Finish the meal and be on your way. There is no point staying here and being a thorn in my eyes.”
“How can Old Madam say such a thing?” Ye Qinglan quickly tried to soothe her, while Yanyan hurried to take hold of Old Madam Ye’s hand and made a fuss of her. Old Madam Ye’s gaze traveled across the table and landed, cool and measured, on her only son. Although she had been bedridden for years, the authority of an old tiger was still present — Master Ye seemed to register the warning, hung his head, and said nothing more.
Only Concubine Pan’s heart remained unsatisfied. She pressed her hands to her face and wept, her eyes working behind them — calculating something, clearly unwilling to let this end.