A’Luo knew she’d stirred up trouble — if Liu Jue caught up with her, he would certainly seek revenge. Back at the banquet, she immediately complained of a headache. Madam Li, Qinglei, and Qingfei were all in high spirits, and when they suddenly saw Qingluo spoiling the mood, Madam Li’s face darkened. “You were perfectly fine just a moment ago — how did you suddenly get a headache?”

A’Luo said in a thin voice, “I must have caught a chill in the woods. Madam, when are we leaving?”

Madam Li glared at her, exasperated. “The evening banquet hasn’t even begun yet. The Princess hasn’t given the word, and the Crown Prince clearly has intentions toward your eldest sister — are you deliberately trying to ruin your sisters’ good fortune?”

A’Luo sighed inwardly — when she’d actually helped them, no one had seen it; they were all daughters of concubines, so why such a difference in treatment? And what was so wrong with the pleasure quarters anyway? Her own beautiful mother had entered the Li household at sixteen, pure and untainted, and had once been renowned throughout Wind City for both her talent and beauty — were they so afraid of losing face? She thought the others each had their own charm, no less than anyone else — she really couldn’t understand it. But aloud, she only gave a loud huff.

Qinglei leaned close and whispered something in Madam Li’s ear. Madam Li thought it over, then said to Qingluo, “There are still two hours before the evening banquet. Have the carriage take you back first, and it can return for the rest of us later.”

A’Luo looked at Qinglei in confusion. Qinglei winked at her. A’Luo thought — could it be that, because she’d helped her out by playing the zither, this eldest sister had finally decided to treat her a little better? Qingfei hadn’t said a word this whole time; A’Luo could see she was entirely lost in the daze of young love. Realizing she needed to leave and avoid the trouble that was Liu Jue, she let Juan’er help her out.

After a few steps, A’Luo turned back, and she and Madam Li spoke almost at the same moment: “Don’t mention coming to the peach blossom banquet once we’re back.” Pleased with herself for having said it, A’Luo added, “And if the Princess learns that the Li family’s Third Miss came but didn’t pay her respects, that would be a discourtesy in itself. Since Qingluo isn’t feeling well right now, leaving early is all the more disrespectful.”

Madam Li nodded approvingly.

A’Luo kept watch the whole way and, seeing no one paying her any attention, finally relaxed and climbed into the carriage. She warned Juan’er once more: “Whatever happened today, you must never mention it to anyone! Otherwise it will bring great disaster upon us. Understood?” Her voice had turned cold.

Juan’er shivered, sensing that though the Third Miss’s tone was severe, it was for her own good. If word got out that it was the Third Miss, not the Eldest Miss, who had played the zither today, it wouldn’t just bring shame to the Li household — it would count as a grave offense against the Princess and the Crown Prince as well. She nodded quickly. “Rest assured, Third Miss. Juan’er knows what matters most. I will not breathe a single word.”

Relieved, A’Luo sighed and told the driver to head back to the residence.

Back at the residence, the Seventh Madam had been waiting by the door the whole time, worried. This was the first time Qingluo had ever left her side.

A’Luo spotted the Seventh Madam craning her neck to look outside from a distance, and her heart warmed. She called out cheerfully, “I’m back, Mother!”

A light came into the Seventh Madam’s eyes, but glancing at the time, she frowned. “Third child, why are you back before the evening banquet even started? Did you come back alone?”

A’Luo exclaimed, “Can we talk while I eat? I’m starving.”

The Seventh Madam laughed and shook her head, instructing Nanny Zhang to bring out the food. She said to Qingluo, “I knew you wouldn’t get enough to eat out there. Come, eat with your mother.”

Having had a long, tiring day, A’Luo was truly hungry and found that the simple home-cooked congee and side dishes were the most appetizing after all. “At the Princess’s banquet, there were only pastries and small refreshments at midday, and I didn’t dare eat too much — Madam would have said it wasn’t refined enough. The evening banquet is lavish, but I don’t dare eat there either.”

The Seventh Madam asked, “Why don’t you dare eat?”

Afraid of worrying her, A’Luo didn’t dare tell her she’d offended the young lord of Prince Anqing’s estate. After a long pause, she finally told her about playing the zither in place of Qinglei. The Seventh Madam’s face turned pale, and A’Luo tried to comfort her: “There were only the five of us in the tent. If we don’t say anything, no one else will know.”

The Seventh Madam’s eyes welled with tears. “Third child, you’ve brought down a great disaster on us! That girl Juan’er may not be able to keep quiet.”

A’Luo was startled. “How could it become a disaster if none of us say anything? Surely Madam wouldn’t be so cruel? Juan’er promised she wouldn’t breathe a word.”

The Seventh Madam sighed. “As the saying goes, heaven knows, earth knows, you know, I know — but now Madam knows, the Eldest and Second Misses know, Juan’er knows, you know, I know. By the time they return, do you think the Master won’t find out? Won’t the Third and Fourth Madams find out? Qinglei and her mother won’t dare speak of it, and the Master and Madam certainly won’t spread it either — but what about Qingfei and her mother? They’ve long resented how the Third Madam presumes on the Master’s favor for her daughter’s sake. If this gets out, what on earth will we do?”

A’Luo froze. “Mother, at the time I only thought of how pitiful Qinglei looked, and I also feared the Li household would be humiliated.”

The Seventh Madam thought for a moment. “As things stand now, it all depends on the Master’s judgment.”

A’Luo thought to herself — who could have expected things to turn so serious? It seemed her worldly experience was still lacking. In this ancient world, even a small breach of etiquette could cost someone their head — how much better the rule of law in a modern, civilized society! Cheating on the college entrance exam, at worst, meant being barred from taking it — here, cheating could cost you your life. She’d never truly considered this dimension before. Six years without contact with the outside world, cloistered within these four walls like a frog at the bottom of a well — the crucial difference between the modern world and this one lay in the difference in law, in the privileges of the ruling class. Her confidence crumbled all at once; it seemed she’d have no choice but to let others decide her fate.

Seeing Qingluo’s face turn ashen, the Seventh Madam hurried to console her: “At worst, your father is still the Right Chancellor of the current court. If it comes out, we can say your eldest sister fell suddenly ill, and that you’re still young — playing a tune out of sisterly devotion to help her through it isn’t so terrible, especially since it also spares the Chancellor’s household embarrassment.”

A’Luo said firmly, “And what about Juan’er? Will she be alright?”

The Seventh Madam, afraid of causing Qingluo to carry a grudge, said, “Mother’s just in the habit of preparing for the worst. Perhaps nothing at all will come of this.”

A’Luo said quietly, “I’ve never really known just how much power the nobles of Wind City wield. If they wanted a young maid for themselves and someone refused to hand her over, would they simply take her by force? If they took a dislike to someone, would they just kill them?”

The Seventh Madam patted Qingluo’s shoulder and sighed. “They wouldn’t seize her openly, but who can say what happens behind closed doors? Back when your mother…” A’Luo looked at her in surprise. “What happened back then?”

The Seventh Madam gazed at the crabapple tree in the courtyard, moonlight casting its shadow onto the ground, the mottled shapes swaying faintly — much like her own voice, her own heart, lonely and solitary. “Back then, I was the most celebrated girl at the Huanhua Pleasure House. I met a patron, and we fell in love with each other. We agreed that on the night my maidenhood was to be auctioned off, he would outbid everyone and take me away, and the two of us would fly free together. In the end, he did win me — but that very night he died suddenly. When I woke, I was already the Seventh Madam of the Chancellor’s residence. To this day, I still don’t know who my enemy was. Your father favored me for a time, but once he saw my indifference, his interest faded too. Here, I’ve spent fourteen years in this small courtyard.”

Hearing this, A’Luo felt a deep pang of sorrow. She suddenly remembered the gold and silver she’d taken from Liu Jue, and quickly pulled it out to give to the Seventh Madam. “Could we run away? Wouldn’t this silver be enough for us to live on?”

The Seventh Madam looked at the silver notes in astonishment. “Third child, where did this come from? How do you have so much silver?”

A’Luo had no choice but to recount, from start to finish, how she’d come to cross Liu Jue. The more the Seventh Madam listened, the paler her face grew, and when she heard that Qingluo had stripped off Liu Jue’s robe, tied him to a tree, and taken his money besides, her eyes rolled back and she fainted on the spot.

A’Luo, thoroughly alarmed, slapped her cheeks and pressed at the philtrum point beneath her nose, deeply regretting her own actions. If only she hadn’t gone out today, none of this would have happened. If she hadn’t felt so sorry for Qinglei’s pitiful state, she wouldn’t have played the zither at all — the Chancellor’s household losing face, Li Qinglei losing face, none of that was truly her concern. If only she hadn’t crossed paths with that Liu Jue. But could any of this be undone with regret now?

After a good while, the Seventh Madam slowly came to. Seeing Qingluo watching her anxiously, she pulled her close and burst into tears. “Third child, whatever shall we do?”

A’Luo thought it over and said to the Seventh Madam, “Mother, the young lord of Prince Anqing’s estate doesn’t know who I am, and no one at today’s banquet will know that the Chancellor’s Third Miss was even there. I disguised myself as a maidservant the entire time. Once Father learns the stakes, he certainly won’t let anything ruin his grand plan to marry Qinglei to the Crown Prince — he’ll go to every length to stop word from spreading. Qingfei got along quite well today with Cheng Shiyue, one of the Five Young Gentlemen — if the Li household becomes embroiled in scandal, who knows whether the top scholar will have second thoughts. As for me, I’ll find a way. It’s Juan’er I worry we can’t protect. When I warned her earlier, I already sensed something was off — I should have told her to flee then.”

The Seventh Madam took Qingluo’s hand. “Third child, Juan’er can’t escape either. A runaway servant caught is dealt with far worse — usually beaten to death.” A’Luo’s heart ached, feeling utterly powerless; crying wouldn’t solve anything. She silently resolved to be far more careful and restrained in everything she did from now on.

Just then, Xiao Yu came to report that Madam and Qinglei and Qingfei had returned, and that the Master had requested the Seventh Madam and the Third Miss come see him. A’Luo looked at the Seventh Madam. “Mother, no matter what, act as if you know nothing. The more people who know, the worse it is.”

The Seventh Madam’s eyes welled with tears again. “Third child, you’re only twelve — how can I let you face all this alone?”

A’Luo wiped her tears. “I can play the innocent fool — because I’m young, they won’t be as wary of me. If you know the truth, that’s just one more thing to guard and one more danger. Just say I came back complaining of a headache, went to sleep, and you had to wake me.”

When they entered the hall, only Chancellor Li and Madam Li were present. The Seventh Madam brought Qingluo forward to pay their respects. Chancellor Li sighed. “Yutang, you’ve kept this well hidden from me. I always found it strange — you, once the most talented and celebrated beauty in all of Wind City — how could you have failed to raise a daughter with any talent at all?”

Just as A’Luo was about to speak, the Seventh Madam answered first: “My lord, it was I who forbade A’Luo from showing off her talents. I wanted to keep them hidden, hoping that one day she would astonish everyone all at once.”

Madam Li strode forward in a single step and struck the Seventh Madam across the face. “You wretch! ‘Astonish everyone,’ indeed — A’Luo astonished the entire heavens today!”

The Seventh Madam covered her cheek and laughed. “So only their daughters are allowed to find good matches — why not mine?” Even as she laughed, she turned and shot a glance at Qingluo, who was seething with fury, signaling her not to act rashly.

A’Luo’s legs went weak and she sank to her knees. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have played the zither for Eldest Sister today!”

Chancellor Li, who had been watching coldly from the side, burst into laughter. “Who said you were wrong? If you hadn’t played that piece, how would the Crown Prince have ever taken notice of Qinglei? A’Luo, your contribution here is no small thing!” He reached out and pulled Qingluo up, drawing her into his embrace, gently stroking her head as he continued, “Father’s only upset that your mother kept it from me. In my heart, I’m actually pleased — so it turns out my A’Luo is also a woman of both beauty and talent!”

Every hair on A’Luo’s back stood on end, gooseflesh rising in waves. Finally, she lifted tear-filled eyes to look at Chancellor Li. “Mother only did it for A’Luo’s sake — please don’t blame her anymore, Father. Besides, A’Luo only knows how to play the zither — I haven’t learned any painting, calligraphy, or poetry the way Mother has. If it would please Father, I’ll study everything just as Mother did.” Her tone was utterly soft and coquettish.

Chancellor Li stared into her tear-brightened eyes and chuckled. “Now that’s my good girl. From now on, you mustn’t let your mother keep secrets from me anymore. Yutang, A’Luo really does resemble you when you first arrived. Very good!”

Seizing the opportunity, Madam Li said, “It’s not that I don’t understand — I was only afraid the Princess and Crown Prince might find out and hold it against us. Old Seventh, A’Luo did this to spare the household embarrassment at the banquet — it’s just that A’Lei wasn’t up to the task at the time. It’s good that it turned out well, but if word ever gets out, what on earth will we do?”

The Seventh Madam said, “A’Luo will never play the zither again in her life. No one else knows she can, after all. As for other accomplishments, I’m sure she can pick up a few here and there without any trouble.”

Chancellor Li nodded. “Very well then. With Qinglei already skilled at the zither, that’s enough. Qingfei excels at calligraphy. A’Luo, you can simply study poetry composition with your mother.”

A’Luo watched as Chancellor Li’s gaze kept drifting toward her hands, and her heart filled with the utmost dread. She blurted out, “A’Luo can also play the flute! Mother says I have a natural gift for music theory, and she’s actually been teaching me.”

Chancellor Li’s expression finally softened. “Good — poetry and flute both. That’s fine too.”

Finally, A’Luo helped the Seventh Madam out of the hall, and behind them she heard Chancellor Li say coldly, “Yutang, teach A’Luo well. She’s young and doesn’t understand many things yet, but you do.”

The Seventh Madam answered in a low voice.

Back at Tang Garden, A’Luo’s tears finally fell. Whether in the modern world or this ancient one, she had never felt fear so heavy as this. Even when she’d first realized she had crossed over into another world, into another person’s body, she hadn’t felt this kind of fear — a fear with no clear reasoning to it, just instinctive dread. If she hadn’t mentioned the flute, would her hands have been ruined by Chancellor Li? She told herself to think it over more carefully — what could she do to change this passive, vulnerable position she was in?