Murong thought back carefully. “She should not have recognized me. When I spotted her, she was moving quickly, heading straight into the pharmacy.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

“This mansion lacks nothing in the way of medicinal supplies. If Elder Sister needed something, she could go through Madam Shi — there would be no need to send a maidservant to run to the pharmacy herself. And isn’t this maidservant from Shan Cheng? How would she be so familiar with the streets of Shun Cheng?” Yan Qing’s steel pen tapped the table in a steady rhythm. Murong’s words set her mind racing at once.

“Miss, I have another observation — I’m not sure if it’s useful.” Murong spoke cautiously. “This Huan Tong wore her hair in a bun, with a hairpin inserted into it. The style and size of the hairpin looked very similar to the one the First Young Miss gave you, but also somewhat different.”

A hairpin?

Something seemed to burst open in Yan Qing’s mind, sparks of light scattering in every direction.

“Let’s get ready and go see Elder Sister.”

Shi Yuan was temporarily staying in Madam Shi’s Zhuoxin Courtyard. When Yan Qing and Murong arrived, Shi Yuan was sitting beneath a covered arbor drinking tea, while two maidservants played in the courtyard with Qing’er.

“Seventh Sister-in-law has come — what a rare guest.” Shi Yuan’s tone was neither warm nor cold, carrying a note of distance. It was clear that Yan Qing was not a welcomed visitor.

Yan Qing chose to ignore the chill in her voice and smiled. “Elder Sister, these are pastries I made — for Qing’er to try.”

Qing’er heard his name called and toddled over with tiny steps, raising his little hands at the sight of the box in Murong’s hands. “Want eat, Qing’er want eat.”

These were mango puddings that Yan Qing had made — mango mashed into a purée and mixed with fresh milk, the finished product a tender, lustrous yellow, wonderfully refreshing after being chilled.

Not only did Qing’er love them, but Shi Yuan had never seen this kind of pastry before.

“Elder Sister, look how happily Qing’er is eating.” Yan Qing smiled and dabbed at the smear of fruit juice on Qing’er’s little mouth.

As the saying goes, one cannot raise a hand against a smiling face. Even though Shi Yuan was not fond of Yan Qing, seeing her own son so joyfully engaged, she smiled slightly.

Shi Yuan thought to herself: if Yan Qing were not Seventh Brother’s wife, she would not have disliked her based on her manner alone. If things had not gone as they did — if she and Madam Shi had not conspired to have Shi Guang take a different wife in place of Yan Qing — Yan Qing would now be her sister-in-law. In any case, Yan Qing was superior to that Yan Qin in every regard.

With these thoughts, Shi Yuan’s manner toward Yan Qing warmed somewhat. When the conversation turned to everyday matters, she even took the initiative to introduce Yan Qing to some of the local customs and scenery of Shan Cheng.

Mid-conversation, someone walked in and called out, “Young Madam.”

Yan Qing knew the greeting was not directed at her, and looked toward Shi Yuan.

Shi Yuan turned to the newcomer with a trace of reproach. “Qing’er was just looking for you — where did you go?” Qing’er caught sight of the woman and immediately ran over, wrapping himself around her legs.

Yan Qing and Murong exchanged a glance. Murong gave an almost imperceptible nod.

The maidservant who had just entered was Huan Tong.

Huan Tong picked Qing’er up and laughed softly as she soothed him.

“Who is this?” Yan Qing pretended not to know.

Shi Yuan smiled. “She is someone from my husband’s household — a capable aide at my husband’s side. Her name is Huan Tong.”

“Since she is Elder Sister’s husband’s trusted aide, having her accompany Elder Sister would certainly put Elder Sister’s husband at ease.”

“Huan Tong didn’t come with me. She was previously sent to Shun Cheng by my husband on some matter, and it worked out that she could look after me as well…”

“Young Madam, Qing’er is asking for more of what he just ate.” Huan Tong interrupted Shi Yuan’s account.

“Those were mango puddings I made.” Yan Qing tugged gently on Qing’er’s little hand. “If Qing’er likes them, I’ll go home and make more for you.”

After leaving Shi Yuan’s quarters, Yan Qing’s expression grew somewhat somber.

She had also noticed Huan Tong’s hair ornament earlier — a very simple bun secured with a silver hairpin, the design at one end carrying a slight hint of the Di Kingdom’s style.

Shi Yuan had said Huan Tong had been in Shun Cheng for several days already. That timing coincided precisely with when the dancer Xiu Xiu had been killed. Could all of this truly be coincidence?

Back in her own rooms, Yan Qing immediately wrote a letter and had Jin Shan convey it to Shi Ting. Though it was nothing more than a suspicion on her part, with no concrete evidence to speak of, she trusted that Shi Ting would find a way to investigate. Whether it proved to be anything or not, an investigation would tell.

“Murong, go to the pharmacy and find out what Huan Tong bought that day.”

That pharmacy was part of Yan Qing’s dowry, so arranging such matters was quite convenient.

Murong returned quickly. Since there had been few customers that day and Huan Tong’s purchase had been the first of the morning, the shop assistant remembered it clearly.

“She only bought ordinary anti-inflammatory medicine.” Murong said. “This kind of medicine is very common — they used it every day when I was in the hospital. It should be nothing of concern, right?”

Yan Qing looked at the medicine receipt in her hand and fell silent for a moment.

This was indeed ordinary imported anti-inflammatory medication, used primarily for antibacterial and anti-inflammatory purposes.

“Miss, you have been busy all day — please rest.” Jing Zhi said. “If you spend your time both thinking about the case and compiling teaching materials, your eyes won’t be able to take it.”

Yan Qing heeded Jing Zhi’s advice and set down the medicine receipt.

“Miss, for the ball the day after tomorrow, which outfit are you planning to wear?” Jing Zhi was sorting through the wardrobe.

Yan Qing had no particular interest in such balls. She simply had not seen Shi Ting for several days and missed him dearly, her heart preoccupied with wanting to see him as soon as possible.

“You choose for me.” Yan Qing said casually.

“That won’t do at all.” Jing Zhi shook her head. “The other courtyards are all making elaborate preparations. I heard the Fifth Young Miss has prepared four or five outfits.”

“We are only attending to show our faces. There is no need to fuss so much.” Yan Qing had never been inclined toward dressing up — a habit formed during her years as a forensic examiner. A person busy from morning to night, frequently dealing with corpses, had little time to think about her appearance.

“Showing your face still reflects on the Shi Family’s dignity.” The words were barely spoken before the person who had spoken them walked in.

Yan Qing quickly rose. “Mother?”

This was the first time since Yan Qing had married into the Shi Family that Luo Huaimeng had come to Shaolan Courtyard.

Luo Huaimeng glanced at her and sat down in a nearby chair. Jing Zhi and Murong hurried to brew tea and bring out pastries.

“What brings Mother here?” Yan Qing smiled and asked.

“If I didn’t come, were you planning to show up at the ball looking shabby and embarrass the Shi Family?” Luo Huaimeng gave a disapproving huff, yet despite her words of disdain, she waved her hand toward those behind her.

Xiang Xiu held a box, and when it was opened, two qipao dresses were neatly folded inside.

“I had the most renowned tailor in Shun Cheng make these. See which one you prefer.”

The top dress was a pale blue blue-and-white porcelain patterned qipao — elegant and dignified. Below it was a peach-red soft satin qipao, with butterflies embroidered at the shoulders as though about to take flight, and red rubies set among its exquisite knotted buttons.

One was quietly refined, the other luxuriously elegant — both were immediately striking.

“Since Mother chose them, I love them both.” Yan Qing gently stroked the smooth fabric, her smile coming from the heart. “They are truly beautiful.”

Luo Huaimeng said, “I think you look better in a qipao. Don’t wear a Western-style dress — both of these colors suit you.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Yan Qing’s happiness did not come from receiving beautiful clothes. It came from Luo Huaimeng’s care.

She had long since come to understand Luo Huaimeng’s character. For all her cool exterior and sharp-tongued manner, when she chose to care for someone, she was utterly devoted.

Yan Qing had Jing Zhi put the qipao away. The smile still lingered at the corners of her lips.

“Has Xingzhi been busy with ball arrangements these past few days?” Luo Huaimeng picked up the freshly brewed tea, her voice even.

“Yes, Mother.”

Luo Huaimeng nodded. “A man should put his career first — especially Xingzhi. You should be more understanding.”

Yan Qing blinked, puzzled. What did Luo Huaimeng mean by this? Had she shown any sign of discontent?

“Xingzhi is my son. I know him better than anyone. Once he has made up his mind about something or someone, it is very hard to change.”

“I know, Mother.”

Luo Huaimeng gave a sound of acknowledgement. “Good that you know. All right — hurry and put the dress on to try it. If anything doesn’t fit, I’ll have it altered.”

“Mother, how did you know my measurements?” Yan Qing asked curiously.

Luo Huaimeng’s expression stiffened slightly, as though there was something difficult to say. She could hardly admit that it was her son who had given her his wife’s measurements, asking her to have a few outfits made whenever she had the chance.

At that time she had not yet accepted Yan Qing, so she had naturally thought nothing of it. She could never have imagined that one day she would truly be making clothes to those measurements — and with such wholehearted care.

Xiang Xiu, hearing this, covered her mouth and laughed.

Yan Qing seemed to understand, and immediately felt a little flustered, a flush rising to her cheeks.

“I’ll take my leave.” Luo Huaimeng rose.

“Let me see Mother out.” Yan Qing hurried to follow, smiling as she stepped to Luo Huaimeng’s side. Luo Huaimeng glanced at her, said nothing, yet made no move to put distance between them.

That night as Yan Qing lay in bed, she turned over Luo Huaimeng’s words in her mind. She did not think Luo Huaimeng had been making small talk. Whatever she had said, there must have been another meaning behind it.

What Luo Huaimeng had meant became clear to Yan Qing the following day, during a morning walk.

Jing Zhi mentioned that behind the garden pavilion there was a cherry tree, and when she had passed by two days earlier, she had noticed the cherries had all turned red.

The three of them — mistress and servants — strolled through the garden until they reached the pavilion.

Yan Qing and Murong were setting up a chess game. Jing Zhi ran off to pick cherries.

Just as Yan Qing selected the black pieces, she faintly heard voices coming from the grove beside the pavilion.

“Have you heard about that matter?”

“Which matter?” someone asked.

From the sound of their voices, kept low, they were likely maidservants from the household.

“About the Seventh Young Master and the Seventh Young Madam, of course.”

Hearing her own name mentioned so unexpectedly, Yan Qing was momentarily taken aback. Across from her, Murong made as if to rise.

Yan Qing waved her hand and pressed a finger to her lips.

Murong quietly settled back down and turned her ears to listen.

—