They returned to the Crab-Apple Garden. Seventh Madam looked at the crab-apple blossoms blooming wildly in the sky-well and let out a soft, lingering sigh. She had Nanny Zhang bring a chair out into the corridor, sat down, and pulled Cheng Qing into her lap. “Third Miss, you’ve been so good to Mother. I always thought you had a cold nature, that you didn’t say much — we barely exchanged more than a few words all year, and you never wanted to study poetry. I never imagined you’d been keeping Mother’s hardships in your heart all this time. In this household, you’re the only family I have. Your father hasn’t set foot in this garden in over a year. It’s just that this poem carries such bitterness, such heartbreak mixed with defiance — for a six-year-old to express something like that, I don’t know if it’s a good sign or a bad one.”

Cheng Qing thought, a six-year-old this capable? and was about to try to smooth things over when she heard Seventh Madam’s voice turn bitter: “And still those women aren’t satisfied — always making an issue of the fact that you don’t know the zither or chess or calligraphy or painting. Mother was truly worried today; I thought the rod would fall on you for sure, and I couldn’t even protect you. If the daughters of the Li family are useless, unable to help their father, they might as well be worth less than Xiao Yu! And to think you’re my own daughter — how could you not understand poetry!”

Seeing that Seventh Madam had not the slightest suspicion, Cheng Qing didn’t bother explaining. By now she had grown somewhat used to Seventh Madam’s embrace — warm and soft, so much like her own mother’s arms when she was small. Nestled against her, she asked: “Can you tell A’Luo — what does it mean to ‘help’ Father? Why must the Li family’s daughters be skilled in the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting?”

The moment the words left her mouth, Cheng Qing had a flash of regret — what if Seventh Madam had already explained this to A’Luo before, and would find it strange that she was asking now? But Seventh Madam only said slowly: “Third Miss, you’re still young. Mother will tell you when you’re older.”

Cheng Qing grew anxious. She desperately wanted to understand what kind of world this was — her mind was still in chaos, having woken up as a small child out of nowhere, meeting a jumble of unfamiliar people, her heart in her throat the whole time. How could she not ask? She heard herself speak in that tender young voice: “Better to know sooner than later! Maybe if A’Luo knows now, she’ll change her ways and study hard, so she won’t get beaten again after three months!” Then she sighed inwardly — this voice, I still can’t get used to it!

Seventh Madam sighed. “The Li family married seven wives one after another, all in hopes of a son. Never did we imagine that even I, the last to enter this household, would bear a daughter as well. Your father is the Right Chancellor of Ning Guo. Seeing no heir in sight, he hopes to marry his three daughters into the royal family, to secure and strengthen his position of power. How could he not be strict with his daughters? All his hopes now rest on his daughters marrying up into greatness. The First Madam comes from a distinguished family — if she hadn’t been unable to bear children, would Master have ever been permitted to take wife after wife? Mother is nothing more than a tool the Li family purchased to bear children.”

Seventh Madam lowered her head and gave Cheng Qing a gentle smile. “Mother never hoped for you to achieve greatness, Third Miss — I only feared that if you didn’t apply yourself, you’d anger your father, and then even a full stomach would be too much to ask. You take after Mother’s own childhood temperament — willful and stubborn, always giving Nanny Zhang and Xiao Yu trouble, never taking your studies seriously. Mother could never bear to scold you for it. But Third Miss, in this world, it is always women who suffer the most. If you don’t marry into a good family, the hard days ahead will stretch on and on.” As she spoke, two lines of clear tears slipped down her face.

Cheng Qing looked at the sorrow etched across Seventh Madam’s jade-pale face, and knew in her heart that her fate was now bound to this woman’s. She looked down at her own small body — mysteriously transported across time, her soul lodged in another’s body, an entire history unfolding around her that she’d never known. She had been, not long ago, a perfectly ordinary university senior, from a comfortable family, with a bright future ahead — and now everything was uncertain. Hearing Seventh Madam say that women here always suffered, she couldn’t help but burst into tears.

Seventh Madam held her tightly. “Third Miss, why must fate be so cruel to us, to make us women? Why did we have to be born daughters of the Li family!”

Cheng Qing cried and cried until she fell asleep.

Seventh Madam gazed tenderly at her daughter — only six years old, yet with a face so like her own — and knew without needing to imagine it how beautiful A’Luo would grow up to be. Her own beauty had been buried away here in the Crab-Apple Garden of the Li residence. She hoped her daughter’s fate would be kinder than her own, that she wouldn’t be trapped forever within these four courtyard walls, her heart as still and lifeless as death.

Seventh Madam gazed at A’Luo for a long while, then called Nanny Zhang and Xiao Yu over and said gently: “The young lady doesn’t yet fully understand things. Please be patient with her — she isn’t a cold-hearted child, only somewhat willful.”

Nanny Zhang and Xiao Yu, eyes reddening, replied: “Madam has shown us great kindness. We will devote ourselves wholeheartedly to the young lady, of course.”

Seventh Madam handed the sleeping Cheng Qing to Nanny Zhang to carry back to the room. She herself stood alone, gazing at the crab-apple blossoms lost in thought, recalling the poem A’Luo had recited at the exam, and tears fell once more.

When Cheng Qing woke, she hurriedly looked down at herself — still this small body. All around was quiet and still — no sound of cars passing on the road, no human voices. It felt as though the whole world had left her utterly alone. Her eyes reddened, and tears surged out. Moonlight spilled into the room, making everything feel colder and more desolate still. Cheng Qing thought, am I really going to be stuck here forever, wearing this A’Luo’s body, growing up in this world, and then marrying off, living out my life this way? An overwhelming fear and panic gripped her, and she burst into loud sobs.

Beyond the curtain, candlelight flared up. Xiao Yu lifted the gauze curtain and hugged her anxiously. “Young lady, another nightmare? Xiao Yu is right here. Don’t be afraid, young lady.”

Cheng Qing saw Xiao Yu’s hair disheveled, rubbing her still-sleepy eyes — still just a child of ten or so herself, yet here she was, coming to comfort her. Cheng Qing thought, I’m a twenty-two-year-old — how can I let you take care of me? She slowly stopped crying and said to Xiao Yu: “I can’t sleep. Xiao Yu, come lie down with me for a while and talk to me.”

Xiao Yu looked at the still-wet tear tracks glistening on A’Luo’s small face in the candlelight, her expression full of pleading, unbearably pitiful. She thought to herself, the young lady is only six, and already this affecting — no telling what a stunning beauty she’ll grow into. She agreed and climbed onto the bed to lie beside A’Luo.

Cheng Qing said to Xiao Yu: “Tell me what the outside world is like. What kind of country is Ning Guo?”

Xiao Yu smiled shyly. “Xiao Yu only knows that there are five kingdoms under heaven. To the west is Qi Guo, to the southwest is Xia Guo, to the north is An Guo, to the south is Chen Guo, and Ning Guo lies to the east — it’s the largest and most powerful of them all. We’re in Ning Guo’s capital, Wind City. Young lady, our Wind City is enormous — riding a horse from east to west takes several hours. The Lantern Festival is the liveliest time of all — the banks of the Duning River are packed with lantern sellers and people setting off lanterns, with all sorts of pleasure boats out on the water. At night it looks just like a place where immortals live.”

Cheng Qing thought, what kind of place is this! I really have crossed into another world. She’d think about it more later — for now she needed time to process, and closed her eyes. Xiao Yu, assuming she’d fallen back asleep, fell quiet too and soon drifted off.

Cheng Qing lay with her eyes open, staring up at the top of the bed canopy. It seemed she really would have to become this A’Luo and live out her life here in the Li household. The initial fear, tension, and panic she forced herself to suppress. At least she was still young, and this “Old Man Li” was apparently some kind of Chancellor — food and clothing wouldn’t be a problem for now. There would be years yet before she had to deal with anything else. Maybe one day she’d wake up back in her own bed — just a strange dream after all. Her heart gradually settled.

Cheng Qing took stock of herself. She’d majored in English in college — nearly useless here. But having lived twenty-two years in the modern world, she surely had picked up all sorts of knowledge that would come in handy eventually. Poetry she could plagiarize — five thousand years of culture, she surely knew enough to get by. She might not remember every Tang or Song poem word for word, but she still remembered plenty of the famous, widely loved lines. Singing was out — she was hopelessly tone-deaf — though that didn’t matter much either; she knew some song lyrics that might prove useful. She could do yoga, had practiced karate — this was her strongest skill; she could handle three or five ordinary men in short order. At least she wouldn’t be a helpless, defenseless woman! Cheng Qing breathed a sigh of relief — thank goodness her officials-for-parents had always been too busy with work to spend much time with her, which meant she’d learned karate to protect herself. And because no one supervised her, she’d learned to cook and take care of herself by the age of five. Cooking — right, cooking!

Like Robinson Crusoe stranded on his island, every time Cheng Qing discovered another useful skill she’d get excited all over again. But after thinking it over at length, there was nothing more.

Cheng Qing thought — this A’Luo was six years old. She’d heard that women in ancient times married as young as thirteen, so she had at least seven years to learn what she needed to know. Whatever kind of society this was, whatever people and events lay ahead, she’d start from scratch and learn as she went. The one crucial thing: survival above all else!

Cheng Qing told herself — from now on, she was Third Miss A’Luo of the Li Chancellor’s household. She’d noticed today that the women here didn’t bind their feet, which was a relief — she’d seen her grandmother’s bound feet once and it had given her goosebumps all over.

Cheng Qing thought back over everyone she’d seen in the hall, turning it all over in her mind. This “Old Man Li” and her own father back home were cut from the same cloth — both politicians. She didn’t know if this Old Man Li held true power as Chancellor, but few power-holding chancellors throughout history had come to a good end. Most were eventually cut down by the emperor, either for outshining their ruler or holding power too long. As long as she committed no serious crimes, staying safe and unremarkable would suit her fine. She prayed to every god she could think of that Old Man Li would never be stripped of office, have his household seized, and be executed — the thought of ancient torture methods alone was enough to terrify her.

The seven wives were probably locked in constant covert rivalry, but it was clear the other six disliked Seventh Madam. Was it because she was the youngest? The prettiest? Or something else entirely?

Cheng Qing thought — Old Man Li had only three daughters. Should she try to become his favorite? There were pros and cons — the good was that it might improve conditions for her and Seventh Madam, earn certain privileges; the bad was that it would draw attention, making it that much harder to stay unnoticed later.

On the way back, she’d taken note of her surroundings. The Crab-Apple Garden seemed to be tucked into the most remote corner of the Li estate — it had taken about ten minutes to walk here from the main hall. Only Nanny Zhang and Xiao Yu served here, two servants total. Nanny Zhang spent more time with Seventh Madam, while Xiao Yu stayed close to her. The room itself was decorated tastefully but plainly — no sign of valuable gold or silver jewelry anywhere. As for Seventh Madam herself, today she’d worn only two jade hairpins and a single pearl flower ornament in her hair, far more modest than the other six wives. Recalling Seventh Madam’s gentleness and sorrow, Cheng Qing concluded — likely, once she’d given birth to a daughter, she’d been cast aside here.

The mind of a twenty-two-year-old in a six-year-old’s body, with modern knowledge and modern thinking — Cheng Qing thought winning Old Man Li’s favor wouldn’t be difficult. But remembering the sayings about the bird that stands out getting shot, and the tree that grows tallest catching the wind, she decided to bide her time for now, keeping a low profile, familiarizing herself with the situation first, and lying low for a few years before making any moves.