The eighth day of the first lunar month was the day Miss Han of Marquis Jinxiang’s manor was holding her flower festival. Early in the morning, Song Chuyi washed and dressed, then went to Old Madam Song’s room to pay her respects and take leave.
The First Madam of the Song household was discussing with Old Madam Song the guest list for the Lantern Festival day. Seeing Song Chuyi, her eyes immediately brightened, and she smiled, “Indeed the climate and water of Qingzhou nurtures people. Not to mention Mingzi looking fresh and dewy, even little Yi, having made a trip there and back, is now impossible to look away from.”
Old Madam Song beckoned Song Chuyi forward and looked her up and down before nodding with satisfaction. “Although we also received an invitation for your elder cousin, Mingzi is still in mourning after all. The fact that they sent us an invitation is a matter of face, but if she actually went and caused offense, that wouldn’t be good. This flower festival isn’t like other events where we elders can accompany you. You’ll inevitably have to be careful everywhere on your own.”
In the companion-reader list that the Ninth Princess had decided upon, Han Yueheng’s name was written bright and clear. Now this Miss Han had specially sent an invitation. Old Madam Song didn’t believe it was simply for the sentiment that her brother had returned to the capital together with the Song family.
Song Chuyi didn’t believe it either. She smiled and nodded, then led Qing Tao and Qing Yīng outside.
Qing Yīng had been brought out from the palace by Princess Rongcheng. After being given to Song Chuyi, she had been staying in Old Madam Song’s quarters. Only yesterday had Song Chuyi gone to ask Old Madam Song to return her.
At the second gate, a carriage had already been harnessed. Qing Yīng placed Song Chuyi’s invitation card in a tiered food box, carried it all onto the carriage, then leaned close to quietly remind her, “Miss, Ma San and the others have already found that wealthy man.”
The pockmarked face was called Ma San. Most of these people were named with just a number after their surname when they were born—their names were chosen very casually.
Song Chuyi watched as Qing Tao arranged the table and set up the hand warmer and tea cups, then narrowed her eyes slightly and nodded.
Marquis Jinxiang’s manor was located on North Hua Alley. Originally, like Linglong Alley, it had been bestowed by the founding emperor to meritorious nobles of the previous dynasty. The properties occupied large areas—seven or eight households in a row completely filled an entire alley. Now, however, most were occupied by court officials.
Inside the alley, carriages and horses lined up like dragons, quickly forming a long queue. Although the Song manor’s carriage was toward the front, no one came to receive and guide them for quite some time.
Qing Tao couldn’t help feeling annoyed. “What’s wrong with the people at Marquis Jinxiang’s manor? Do they look down on our family’s status and think we’re unworthy of attending their flower festival? But I see even the Earl of Guangping’s household carriage has already gone in!”
It wasn’t until the Cui manor’s carriage, which arrived nearly half a shichen after them, came that they were finally greeted by someone who looked like a stewardess and led through the gate.
Since Cui Shaoting’s promotion to Vice Minister of War, his status in the capital had risen with the tide. In addition, he was himself from the Cui clan of Boling, a prestigious family that had maintained its lineage unbroken for many years. The people of Marquis Jinxiang’s manor dared not treat him lightly. Before long, Han Yueheng personally came out to receive the guests.
Today she wore a white standing-collar jacket underneath, covered with an outer robe of crabapple-colored cloud-patterned gauze, with an eight-panel skirt embroidered with butterflies among flowers below. At her waist hung a colorful rope-woven cord strung with paired fish jade pendants. Combined with the emerald flower ornament on her forehead that shone brilliantly in the sunlight, she appeared extraordinarily magnificent and wealthy.
At this moment, her face was filled with a smile of self-reproach. She naturally and intimately stepped forward to take the hands of the Cui sisters, her voice like silver bells as she apologized, “It’s truly my fault. This is the first time I’ve organized such a flower festival. The elders in my household wanted to train me and wouldn’t allow me to find helpers. I’ve been so busy I’m dizzy and neglected the two elder sisters. It’s truly my offense.”
As for Song Chuyi, who had actually waited at the manor gate for over half a shichen, she didn’t even give her a glance.
Cui Huaying frowned and imperceptibly withdrew her hand, her face showing a smile that was both appropriate and distant. “Sister is today’s host, so naturally you’re too busy. In that case, sister needn’t accompany us alone. We can go by ourselves.”
Cui Huayi, relying on being somewhat younger, didn’t even bother with pleasantries. She pulled Song Chuyi close to whisper in her ear, “Clearly she finds you displeasing and is giving you a show of force, as if no one could tell.”
Han Yueheng’s face turned iron-blue as she listened. She wanted to do something but didn’t dare. She had no choice but to suppress her anger and summon a young maid to lead the Cui sisters and Song Chuyi to the flower hall to first pay respects to the Marchioness of Jinxiang.
Cui Huaying naturally walked to Song Chuyi’s right. Seeing Han Yueheng had gone out to receive guests, she turned her head to comfort Song Chuyi, “That’s just her nature—flattering the powerful and trampling the weak, making people detest her. Don’t take her to heart.”
Song Chuyi was young to begin with and rarely went out to socialize. Combined with her trip to Qingzhou, nearly three months coming and going, she simply didn’t understand Han Yueheng’s nature. Much less take her to heart. If she were to take anyone to heart, Han Yueheng’s brother Han Zhi was truly worth pondering and scrutinizing word by word and deed by deed.
Song Chuyi nodded. After turning past a decorative rock formation, they soon arrived at Yuming Pavilion, which Marquis Jinxiang’s manor used to receive guests.
The legendary young Madam Fan, who was said to have entranced the Marquis of Jinxiang until he didn’t know whether it was day or night, indeed had a face so exquisite it was almost excessive. When her eyes lifted at the corners, the light flowing in her gem-like eyes seemed capable of speech.
However, though her beauty was striking, she also seemed somewhat removed from mortal concerns, her face cold and indifferent without the slightest expression.
Hearing the identities of Cui Huaying, Cui Huayi, and Song Chuyi, she suddenly seemed to come alive. She slowly uttered an “oh,” looked at them thoughtfully for a long while, then finally placed her gaze on Song Chuyi. “You do look very much like your mother.”
After saying this sentence, she said no more. Supporting her head with one hand, she gestured for someone to lead them to the plum garden in the back to enjoy themselves.
After leaving the room, Cui Huayi couldn’t suppress her curiosity. “So this is what young Madam Fan looks like.”
Everyone had curiosity. This young Madam Fan had become an object of gossip behind people’s backs since she first made a stunning appearance years ago. Even after many years had passed, there were still plenty who remembered her.
Cui Huaying poked her head with a finger and chided, “You always speak without restraint. When you accidentally say something wrong and offend someone, only then will you behave.”
The maid leading the way ahead acted as if she’d heard nothing. After turning a corner and seeing a tall pavilion, she finally stopped and smiled, “All the young ladies who arrived early are up ahead. This servant won’t accompany the young ladies inside.”
The flower garden of Marquis Jinxiang’s manor was a riot of blooming flowers. Layer upon layer of plum trees looked from afar like clouds covering heaven and earth. Occasionally when a breeze blew, falling blossoms from the branches scattered about like red rain descending from the sky, making it impossible to distinguish heaven from earth.
Even Cui Huayi, who was accustomed to beautiful scenery, couldn’t help praising, “I don’t know where they found so many plum blossoms. Although the varieties aren’t that numerous, the quantity is truly astonishing.”
Outside, Han Yueheng was leading the newly arrived Chen Mingyu in. Hearing Cui Huayi’s praise, she curved her lips in a smile. “The vast area this plum garden occupies and the quantity of trees—it would be difficult to find a second such place in all the capital.”