Seeing that Zhun Ge could not recite his lesson, Xu Lingyi’s expression darkened, though he said nothing more and helped the Old Madam through to the east side room.

Zhun Ge stood with his head drooping, looking somewhat dejected.

Shi’yiniang went forward and crouched down to ask him: “Are you feeling a little frightened inside?”

Zhun Ge nodded, tears already welling in his eyes: “I can recite it.”

Shi’yiniang said gently: “Then let us find a time to recite it for Father to hear. Would that be all right?”

Zhun Ge nodded vigorously.

Shi’yiniang took his hand: “Let us go eat first.”

But Zhun Ge did not move: “What if I still cannot recite it then?” — both anxious and bewildered.

“If it is just the two of us, quietly reciting for Father to hear without so many people present — would Zhun Ge still forget?” Shi’yiniang asked him softly.

Zhun Ge lowered his head even further: “When the teacher asks me, I… I cannot recite it either!”

Shi’yiniang’s heart sank inwardly.

If that was the case, the situation was likely rather troubling.

Even so, this was not the moment to discourage the child.

“Then try reciting it for me — would that be all right?” Shi’yiniang ventured.

Zhun Ge considered for a moment, then gave a reluctant “All right.”

Shi’yiniang thought back to the New Year, when he had recited the *Elementary Learning* before everyone…

“Let us go eat first.” She smiled and gave Zhun Ge a gentle hug. “Do not think about this for now. Eat well. Otherwise, your Father will see you picking at your rice with your chopsticks and be displeased again. Since the lesson cannot be recited right now, let us at least eat our meal properly.”

“Mm.” Zhun Ge answered quietly and, obedient as could be, let Shi’yiniang lead him by the hand toward the east side room.

The Second Madam, who was walking ahead, glanced back.

Perhaps it was because he had taken Shi’yiniang’s advice — this time Zhun Ge ate his meal with perfect composure, his manner carrying the easy grace of a young gentleman from a distinguished family, which only served to highlight the contrast beside him: Xu Sijie was bolting his food down ravenously, refusing to let the maid feed him, yet making a mess of it himself, dropping grains of rice on the table and then picking them up to stuff back in his mouth — a rather sorry sight.

A flash of tenderness crossed the Old Madam’s eyes.

The Fifth Madam turned her face away, as though she had not seen.

Xu Lingyi opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it. On the way back, he said quietly to Shi’yiniang: “Once we have moved to the Beautiful Scenery Pavilion, I think we should find a pretext to keep Sijie away from the dinner table for now. Let the steward mammas train him a little first.”

A child’s dignity mattered too. Even if they did not yet fully understand, parents ought to protect it on their behalf.

Shi’yiniang agreed, and raised the matter of Zhun Ge with Xu Lingyi: “…I asked him privately. He said he feels frightened, and that is why he cannot recite…”

“Frightened, frightened!” Xu Lingyi’s expression showed unmistakable impatience. “If it is not fear, it is worry — or else it is nerves. How old is he now? Surely he cannot go on like this forever.”

Raising a problem without a solution — it was better not to mention it at all for now.

Shi’yiniang smiled and shifted the subject: “Speaking of which, the Third Month Third Festival also happens to be Sijie’s birthday.”

Xu Lingyi had not remembered at all. He gave an “oh” and said: “Then let us take the occasion to celebrate for him.” He added: “Whatever expense is needed, tell me and I will have Steward Bai arrange it.”

Shi’yiniang thought of Fifth Master and the Fifth Madam’s manner today… What Xu Sijie needed was not fanfare, but quiet dignity.

She used the Second Madam’s words as her reasoning: “The child is still young — too grand a celebration may diminish his fortune. I think a bowl of longevity noodles on the day will do.”

“Whatever you think best.” Xu Lingyi looked toward Xu Sijie walking ahead, led by the hand by Zhen Jie’er. “Since he is living with us now, we cannot let him suffer.”

Shi’yiniang smiled and nodded. Upon returning to the room, she told Qin Yiniang and Wen Yiniang, who had come to pay their respects, about the move, and also sent Lvyun to inform Qiao Lianfang.

Wen Yiniang had no objection. Qin Yiniang, however, hesitated: “Could I… could I look at the calendar before deciding when to move?”

Shi’yiniang did not understand.

Wen Yiniang smiled and explained from the side: “Qin Yiniang has an altar to the Bodhisattva set up in her room.”

Shi’yiniang, though she herself held no such beliefs, had no objection to others holding them.

“Then Qin Yiniang should make her decision early, so as not to delay the date for breaking ground.”

Qin Yiniang acknowledged this and withdrew. In the middle of the night she was burning prayer papers in the courtyard.

Wen Yiniang, returning to her room, spent the night with Qiuhong, Donghong, Yu’er, and the others sewing waistbands.

“As long as the waistband is here, the person is here. If the waistband is gone, there is no point in living on.”

“Yes!” Qiuhong and the others, thinking of the two-hundred-thousand-taels worth of banknotes sewn inside each of their waistbands, found their needle-holding hands trembling.

Qiao Lianfang, upon hearing the news, was somewhat dazed: “The Marquis… is moving to the Fishing Pavilion, and I and the two other concubines are to move to the Yi Xiang Courtyard?”

“Indeed, Qiao Yiniang.” Lvyun smiled. “I hear it was the Old Madam’s idea.”

Qiao Lianfang stared blankly for a moment, then told Xiu Yuan to give Lvyun a few pieces of broken silver as a reward, and saw her out.

Lvyun felt a chill creep into her heart as she went back to report to Shi’yiniang: “…For the very first time, she gave me silver!”

“Since she gave it to you, just take it,” Shi’yiniang said with a laugh.

After all, one could not walk around with an umbrella open every day just because it might rain. Life still had to go on.

Lvyun answered “yes” and poured Shi’yiniang a cup of hot tea — she was in the midst of copying out the guest list for the Third Month Third Festival with Hupo, with all the invitees set according to previous convention.

Shi’yiniang noticed that Hupo’s handwriting had been improving steadily.

“Practice a little more, and you can be writing the invitation cards.” Her tone was warm with approval.

Hupo pressed her lips together in a smile, but her mind was on something Hongxiu had said: “…Yan Rong heard that Madam favors women who can read and write, so she rises every morning to practice calligraphy for one hour — rain or shine, frost or snow!”

She is positioning herself for Binju’s vacancy.

Hupo thought of Binju…

“Madam, is it nine days or twelve days before Binju is to come back for her return visit?”

If nine days, that would be the second day of the third month; if twelve days, the fifth.

“I told her to come back after a full month.”

Hupo was slightly taken aback.

Shi’yiniang smiled: “I did not plan it that way at the time — I simply thought that since she lives far away, the journey back and forth would take a whole day. And by the end of the third month, when spring is in full bloom, she will also be able to enjoy an outing.”

Hupo smiled at that: “Sister Binju is truly blessed.”

But in her heart she thought: Madam is so loyal to those she has known a long time. It seems she ought to spend more time in Zhuxiang’s company.

There is no shortage of clever and capable people in this household…

And at that very moment, Shi’yiniang, gazing at the familiar names one by one upon the bright red gilded paper, wore an expression that had grown faintly distant.

Another Third Month Third Festival.

The first time she had met Xu Lingyi had also been on the Third Month Third!

So many things had happened that day.

First Shi’niang had appeared unexpectedly, and then came the incident in the small courtyard.

The Third Month Third. For many, it was simply a pleasant day for an outing in spring; for many others, it had been a turning point in their lives. Yuan’niang, Qiao Lianfang, Shi’niang, Lan’ting, Cao’e, Lin Mingyuan… even Wen Lian — familiar and unfamiliar faces swept one by one through her mind.

Shi’yiniang shook her head vigorously, casting those memories aside.

She rarely allowed herself to dwell on the past. Grief and regret served no purpose — time always dragged one forward.

She instructed Hupo to bring her some plainer clothes: “Tomorrow morning, let us go and see Zhun Ge.”

Hupo was quite surprised.

The Xu family clan school, called the Chengxun Academy, was situated at the south-north corner of the outer courtyard. Though called a clan school, in practice only Xu Siyu and Zhun Ge currently studied there, along with seven or eight other students — sons of minor officials or collateral branches of aristocratic families in the capital. It was not overly complicated, but there were, after all, outsiders.

“I feel that something is not quite right with Zhun Ge…” Shi’yiniang did not dwell too much on these considerations. She murmured thoughtfully: “For the teacher to call on him to recite, and for him to be unable to do so… he is afraid of the Marquis, I understand — but surely he is not also afraid of this teacher?”

“Should we send for Second Young Master to ask?” Hupo suggested. “Second Young Master studies in the same place as Fourth Young Master — he would likely know something.”

“But after all, it is his own teacher,” Shi’yiniang said, gently shaking her head. “Even if there is something to be said, it would be awkward for Second Young Master to speak of his own teacher. There is no need to put him in a difficult position. Let us observe quietly for ourselves first, and then decide.”

Hupo acknowledged this and found for Shi’yiniang a plain lake-blue outer robe she had worn in her maternal home.

Xu Lingyi returned — he had just been to the study.

Coming with him were Linbo and Zhaoying, each carrying several paper boxes in their hands.

He directed Linbo and Zhaoying to set the paper boxes on the low table in the inner room.

Shi’yiniang stepped forward and curtsied with a smile: “What has the Marquis brought?”

Xu Lingyi beckoned her over to look: “Fifth Brother made these. He said they are scale models of the rooms. He sent them over at noon today.” Then he pointed things out to her: “Here is the window, here is the door, here is the main hall…” — crafted so true to life that even the window latticework pattern was discernible at a glance, whether ice-crack design or plum-blossom pattern.

“Fifth Master is truly extraordinary!” Shi’yiniang exclaimed with genuine admiration.

But Xu Lingyi said: “If only he could put even half of that ingenuity into his official duties.”

Shi’yiniang could actually understand Xu Lingkuan.

When good work and poor work yield the same reward, one might as well put one’s energy into what one truly enjoys.

Xu Lingyi also spoke to her about where he planned to plant trees and where to grow flowers.

Shi’yiniang’s interest was kindled as well.

The two of them talked for a long while, not stopping until the sound of the night watch drum reached their ears.

The next morning, Shi’yiniang wound her hair into a simple bun, and together with Hupo, Lvyun, and two or three mammas, made her way to the clan school in the outer courtyard.

As she had instructed everyone to go quietly, the group entered through the rear courtyard, and Shi’yiniang stood beneath the window at the back of the building to listen.

The room was utterly silent. The teacher was lecturing on the passage from the *Great Learning* — “All things have a root and branches; all affairs have a beginning and an end.”

His voice was resonant, his manner strict, and his scholarship was respectable — drawing on classical references, making wide connections, delivering his lecture in an orderly and detailed fashion. His shortcoming was that the content was rigid and dry, not particularly engaging. In the course of the lesson, he called on several students to answer questions. Some answered well, some poorly. Those who answered well he met with silence; those who answered poorly he scolded on the spot, and his tone was sharp, his words cutting.

Shi’yiniang quietly took her leave of the clan school.

That evening, after sending Zhun Ge back to his room after dinner, she had him recite the *Elementary Learning* for her.

He recited six chapters without stopping, without a single pause.

That night, Shi’yiniang asked Xu Lingyi: “Did you not once mention wanting to find a new teacher for Siyu and the others? Has a replacement been found?”

Xu Lingyi shook his head: “No suitable candidate has been found. This one’s scholarship is merely average, but his character is upright and principled. It is not as though they are studying to become the top scholar. He can teach them for now.”

Since Xu Lingyi valued the teacher’s character above all, Shi’yiniang swallowed back what she had intended to say. The very next morning, she sent word to Luo Zhensheng, asking him to come without fail at his earliest convenience.

—