Ye Lingbo, naturally, had heard about the Chen family’s grand occasion at the earliest possible moment.
“The Emperor has elevated the Chen family to such heights — that honor rivals even the four great banquets given to men.” She immediately began to strategize on Han Yueqi’s behalf. “The way I see it, the Chen family has ambitions to supplant the Shen family, and with the Pingjun Prince’s household backing them, the Shen family had best choose either Prince Ying or Prince Liang to align with. I wonder if Lord Shen has any such intention.”
“Forming factions and pursuing private interests is the gravest taboo for any minister.” Qinglan, still in her teasing older-sister tone, smiled and instructed Lingbo: “Lingbo is sharp about so many things — how could she make such a naive mistake here?”
“I know why — because Second Elder Sister does not read books.” Yanyan chimed in from the side, quick to answer, imitating their father’s voice as she stroked an imaginary beard: “Ah — in the end, it is entirely the fault of not reading.”
Lingbo was not about to let that pass, and immediately lunged to catch Yanyan. Yanyan was quick — and seeing that Xiao Liu’er was loyal to her mistress and had closed the door, preparing to trap them inside, she made a sharp turn and darted behind A’Cuo, using her as a human shield while she ran and laughed at the same time, until the laughter made her unable to run. She was finally caught by Lingbo.
“Save me, Elder Sister!” Yanyan cried out for reinforcements at once.
Qinglan was also laughing by now, and hurried over to intervene, coaxing: “All right, all right — for my sake, let her off.”
“Absolutely not. She is insolent every single time — utterly disrespectful of her elders!” Lingbo glared with the wrath of a guardian deity and called out: “Xiao Liu’er, come quickly — hold down her legs! Today I will not rest until I have properly spanked her.”
Yanyan, sensing real danger, immediately began rolling around on the kang. She was naturally agile and had a sturdy build, and once she started rolling about, four people could not pin her down. Yang Niangzi, who doted on her, heard the commotion and rushed over to rescue her. At the sight of the scene, she burst into laughter: “What a rolling dragon! Third Young Miss has truly mastered some real kung fu.”
Lingbo was torn between laughter and exasperation, pinching her and saying: “Get up at once — what sort of behavior is this? Do you think you are being complimented? Is this how a young lady of a great household conducts herself?”
“I am a young lady of a great household.” Yanyan was righteously indignant. “Miss Shen taught me this, and is she not a young lady of a great household too?”
“I knew it was her! What good could you possibly learn from following her around? Get up quickly — next will you be demonstrating a full-blown tantrum? Do not make a spectacle of yourself.”
The Ye sisters were in high spirits, and even A’Cuo had set aside her worries to watch and laugh. But outside, a household stewardess came hurrying in, Liu Ji following close behind.
Lingbo was sharp-eyed — she spotted them through the window and quickly straightened her hair. Rising to go to the door, Xiao Liu’er, ever capable, followed and drew the door curtain closed behind them.
“What is the matter? All this urgency — and you have brought Liu Ji into the inner courtyard as well?” She frowned.
The stewardess had just opened her mouth to speak when she glanced back. Lingbo followed her gaze.
Female Official Su stood there holding her horsetail whisk, two palace attendants behind her. Seeing Lingbo, her expression was cold.
“Her Highness the Grand Princess has issued a summons. Ye family’s eldest young miss and second young miss are to attend her residence at once and report in — no delay is permitted.”
The matter had arisen without warning, and Lingbo could only exchange a glance with A’Cuo. There was no counting on Yanyan in a moment like this. A’Cuo was intelligent — she would certainly know to go at once and notify Shen Biwei and Han Yueqi. Han Yueqi could not appear in this matter; it had to be Shen Biwei.
But she also worried about alarming Shen Biwei, which might disturb Sleeping Prince — that person had always regarded her with predatory interest. Lingbo was just on the point of giving instructions, calling out: “Xiao Liu’er—” intending to slip a word to her discreetly — Xiao Liu’er was sharp and knew when to act. But Female Official Su gave a deliberate cough, and Qinglan, understanding at once, pressed Lingbo’s hand.
A summons from the Grand Princess — it was not yet clear whether this was a blessing or a calamity, but to send a servant off to relay messages to others in the middle of it would be a grave act of disrespect.
But no wonder Lingbo’s heart was uneasy. In her own words: “Good things never come our way, but bad things always have our name on them.”
Since her mother’s death, she had long since grown accustomed to the wild, fend-for-yourself life of their household. Lady Meng was frequently ill, and in any case one could not readily interfere in another family’s affairs — there was only so much help to be given. She and Qinglan were the only two adults in the Wutong Courtyard, and whatever storms fell upon them, they shouldered together. Naturally she had learned to always prepare for the worst.
So while she strove upward on the one hand, on the other she was deeply wary of so-called “great patrons.” She was still, at heart, that motherless wild child — who, through her own wit and calculation, had carved out a measure of comfort and security for her family in the adult world, but who remained in her bones a little wolf baring its teeth, ever watchful of the surrounding adults, always on guard.
Fortunately, there was still Qinglan.
In moments like these, Qinglan always held her hand. Her hand was very warm — usually soft and boneless, gentle as their mother’s — but now it gripped tight, exactly as their mother had once held her hand at the market as a small child, pulling her close, never letting go.
The Grand Princess was naturally a great patron, and great patrons were fond of making a show of authority — not always out of personal feeling, simply because the rules were strict and the protocol was rigid. Even their own carriage was not permitted; they had to follow Female Official Su’s vehicle. They were each allowed one maidservant, but in moments like this it was the mistress who was expected to protect the maid, not the other way around. Lingbo would sooner have left Xiao Liu’er behind — saving the worry that if something went wrong, Xiao Liu’er might do something reckless out of loyalty.
Qinglan’s reserves of cultivation showed themselves in this moment. Not only was she herself calmer than Lingbo, but her maid Chun Ming was considerably steadier than Xiao Liu’er as well — even reaching out to take Xiao Liu’er’s hand and offer quiet reassurance.
Qinglan and Lingbo followed Female Official Su and dismounted from their carriage at the inner gate of the Grand Princess’s residence, then followed her through a succession of courtyards. The route this time was different from the one taken for the Grand Princess’s banquet — they passed through many unfamiliar gardens, all planted with bamboo. Even in this heavy snowfall, the greenery persisted, faint and dim, though the weight of so much snow had broken many of the stalks. This was how bamboo broke, Lingbo noticed — it split open lengthwise, the pale interior of the stalk exposed, the break tearing all the way down in one long, fluid stroke, like a wound standing upright in the snow, with a decisive and almost exhilarating finality.
No wonder Pei Zhao was so fond of wearing green — green had this side to it as well.
Of all the useless thoughts to have, in a moment like this — Lingbo inwardly berated herself. She turned the corner around a covered gallery and gave a start.
A great crowd of people knelt in the snow — about thirty of them, all in the same faded red robes, clearly altered from the old battle dress of the Northern Pacification Army, all simply groomed, like a corps of female soldiers. Lingbo knew at once: these were the women who had blocked the Grand Princess’s procession and filed the complaint. They were still here, inside the Grand Princess’s residence, and by the look of it they had been kneeling for some time already — the snow had risen past their knees. Wei Shanhu knelt at the front, bolt upright, snowflakes gathering even on her lashes, her expression resolute. As the sisters entered, she glanced over at them.
This was the moment Lingbo should have felt satisfaction — and yet she felt none at all. If anything, a small stirring of pity rose in her chest.
She instinctively looked to Qinglan. But Qinglan’s face was calm and still, as though she had seen nothing.
“We have arrived.” Female Official Su led them into a reception hall. Just outside, the women of the Northern Pacification Army were kneeling in the snow. Inside, the hall was heated by underfloor warming, warm as spring. Lingbo recognized the technique — it was a method used by noble patrons and courtroom magistrates alike to assert authority: no matter what complaint was brought, if it was below petitioning above, one received thirty blows of the deterrent rod before being allowed to speak, simply to discourage unseemly words from the outset.
But she had not anticipated what the Grand Princess arranged next.
Female Official Su saw them in and went to report, while the maids in the reception hall stood with hands lowered, all four of them. Lingbo glanced at the tea table and a thought suddenly surfaced in her mind: if the maids brought tea, it was a good sign; if they did not pour tea, it was a bad one.
The thought was a little foolish — even the condemned got a last meal, after all — but she could not help thinking it.
The world, however, never followed her expectations.
Female Official Su went in quickly and returned quickly, with a single sentence: “Her Highness requests that the eldest young miss of the Ye family enter.”
Lingbo’s heart lurched. She seized Qinglan’s hand and would not release it — she knew Female Official Su must be watching, must be inwardly laughing at how small-spirited she was.
But there was nothing left to her except Qinglan.
These so-called great patrons — they were never there when people suffered injustice, never able even to uphold common decency. And when they were not needed, they descended to stir the winds and set the clouds in motion.
“Do not worry — there is nothing wrong.” Qinglan smiled in reassurance. She even touched Lingbo’s hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear, and then let go of her hand. She followed Female Official Su through the door.