“…It is Hui Jie’er’s birthday. I have painted her a flower-and-bird picture.” Zhen Jie’er looked at Shiyiniang with a trace of pleading in her eyes. “I would go for just a little while and come straight back. It will not take much time. When I return, I will certainly make up all the lessons I have missed.”

Ever since that evening at the Old Madam’s when she had dropped a hint, Zhen Jie’er had not found a proper moment to speak with Shiyiniang about the matter.

But Shiyiniang found herself thinking of what she herself had been like at Zhen Jie’er’s age.

Every time there was a classmate’s birthday party, those parents had all been afraid their children might lose face in front of their friends—pocket money had to be well-supplied, clothes and appearance had to keep up with the trends, and the carriage had to be arranged well in advance. No one would have dreamed of making a sour face over it.

Her heart ached a little, and she smiled: “Has the painting been mounted yet? Count the days—there is not much time left.”

Zhen Jie’er’s entire face lit up: “Mother, then you are agreeing to let me go?”

Shiyiniang smiled: “You said it yourself—you will only stay a short while and come straight back, and you will make up the lessons you miss. You must not go back on your word to me.”

Zhen Jie’er nodded several times in quick succession: “Mother, rest easy. I will never break my word.”

“Then give me the painting you made for Hui Jie’er.” Shiyiniang smiled. “I will have someone take it to a frame shop and have it mounted for you—you cannot simply bring it as it is.”

“All right.” Zhen Jie’er smiled, and then the smile faded. “I…I did not bring it with me.”

“That is all right.” Shiyiniang smiled. “The cherries have just come into season. I will have Hupo send some over to you later. You can hand the painting over to Hupo then.”

Zhen Jie’er brightened again at this.

Shiyiniang said: “It is not that I am unwilling to let you join in the fun. The truth is, your mourning period has not yet ended. Because you are young, everyone turns a blind eye, but you yourself must be mindful and not carry on too riotously. Go to Hui Jie’er’s place and sit for a while, then come home. If Hui Jie’er is truly a good friend to you, she will naturally understand your situation and appreciate your feeling. If she only wants you there to add to the festivity, you will not have offended her either—just bear in mind for the future that this kind of person is fine for passing time together, but not someone to give your heart to as a true sister.” Reaching this point, she paused briefly. Zhen Jie’er thought she still had more to say, but Shiyiniang shifted to a different subject. “What are you planning to wear that day? Have you prepared the silver ingots for tipping?”

“Everything is prepared.” Zhen Jie’er, still pondering Shiyiniang’s unspoken words, answered her. “I plan to wear a snow-blue over-robe that day. No jewelry—just a pearl flower in my hair. I have prepared ten silver ingots for tipping, all at four-tenths of a tael each.”

Shiyiniang had been about to remind her that Fang Jie’er and Hui Jie’er were both pampered daughters of grand families and could not help being wilful and indulged in their ways—she ought to take stock of the situation herself. But then she thought: Zhen Jie’er was already this sensible and composed; if she repeated herself with too many reminders, the girl might feel she was not trusted. She suppressed the words and said nothing, instead asking about her preparations. Hearing what she had said now, Shiyiniang replied: “Ten is too few. Bring at least thirty. Have the small maidservants carry them in a pouch and bring them out whenever they are needed.” She then instructed Nanny Song to go and fetch several such silver ingots for Zhen Jie’er.

Silver ingots were custom-cast by weight and shaped into all manner of auspicious forms. They were not ordinarily used for transactions. Generally they were kept in the hands of whoever managed the household affairs, to be used as gratuities.

Zhen Jie’er quickly said: “I will have the silver sent over in a little while.”

“What a woman earns goes to her person, what a man earns goes to the household.” Shiyiniang smiled. “You had better save your private savings with all your might.”

Zhen Jie’er laughed with a trace of embarrassment.

Nanny Du from the Old Madam’s quarters arrived, ostensibly to escort Zhun Ge home, but after paying her respects to Shiyiniang she stood and chatted with her at length.

Zhen Jie’er caught the signal, made an excuse to call for Zhun Ge, and stepped out of the inner room.

Shiyiniang invited Nanny Du to sit.

Nanny Du perched on the edge of a small stool and smiled: “Fourth Madam is a perceptive person. The Old Madam sends word: since she has already spoken the words, she must go to the Zhongqin Earl’s Mansion tomorrow regardless. She asks that Fourth Madam make the arrangements. She also asks: would it be too late if we set out at the midpoint of the si hour tomorrow morning?”

Shiyiniang nodded and told Nanny Du about the trousseau gift she had prepared for Gan Lanting: “…Please let Nanny return and report this to the Old Madam. See if she wishes to add or remove anything. Would it be too late to set out at the midpoint of the si hour tomorrow morning?”

Nanny Du’s face was full of smiles, and it was plain she approved heartily of Shiyiniang’s response: “I will go back at once and report to the Old Madam.”

Shiyiniang smiled and saw Nanny Du to the door.

Zhun Ge paid his respects to Shiyiniang and went with Nanny Du back to the Old Madam’s quarters.

Shiyiniang saw the hour was not early and urged Zhen Jie’er to return, then carried Xu Sijie to Lijing Pavilion.

The study of Xu Siyu still had its lamp burning. Wenzhu was about to go and inform Xu Siyu of the visit, but Shiyiniang stopped her: “Is Second Young Master still reading?”

Wenzhu replied with deference: “Second Young Master reads every evening until the end of the hai hour.”

“In that case, I will not disturb him.” Shiyiniang handed Xu Sijie to Nan Yong’s wife, patted Xu Sijie on the head, said a few words of reminder, and returned to her own rooms.

She had barely finished washing and changing when Xu Lingyi returned.

His expression carried a certain gravity, his eyes clear and bright—it was impossible to tell whether he had been drinking.

“The Marquis is back.” Shiyiniang stepped forward to greet him, but did not ask directly how things had gone. She waited a moment, let Xia Yi come in and attend to Xu Lingyi as he washed, and when he emerged, poured a cup of hot tea with her own hands and then settled herself at his side.

“Was it not quite successful?”

Xu Lingyi drank a sip of tea, then drew a long, slow breath: “It is settled.” Yet there was not the faintest trace of joy in his eyes.

Both sides of the hand are one’s own flesh and blood.

He had exiled Siyu for Zhun Ge’s sake. As a father, his heart must surely be heavy.

“We have decided to first arrange the betrothal between Zhun Ge and the young miss of the Jiang Family. Then let Siyu go to Le’an. That way, they will be family relations. There will be nothing for people to say, and Lord Jiang will also have a more legitimate standing when it comes to managing Siyu’s affairs.”

Shiyiniang nodded and said: “When does the Marquis plan to speak to Siyu about this?”

“After the betrothal tokens between Zhun Ge and the Jiang young miss have been exchanged,” Xu Lingyi said. “That way, if anything changes unexpectedly, Siyu will not be put in an awkward position.”

That was a matter of two or three months at most.

Xu Lingyi seemed disinclined to discuss it further and shifted the subject: “By the way—Zhun Ge’s situation, you will likely need to make some preparations. Madam Jiang plans to have the young miss depart Le’an in the early fourth month. She should arrive in Yanjing by the end of the fifth month. At that time, the two families will need to arrange a meeting. As for Zhun Ge…” He looked thoroughly vexed. “About the Master Zhao that Zhensheng mentioned—is there any news?”

“If there were news, Elder Brother would surely have come to say so.” Shiyiniang said. “The last time Elder Brother came, he mentioned he had sent someone to Lord Liu’s household to ask Lord Liu to put in a word on our behalf. That should not be a great problem.”

Xu Lingyi thought for a moment and said: “Then let us invite Zhensheng over tomorrow for us all to discuss it together.”

Shiyiniang agreed and told him about the visit the next day to bring the trousseau gift for Gan Lanting: “…We will likely not be back until evening. Will the Marquis take his noon meal in the outer courtyard or the inner courtyard?”

“I will eat in the outer courtyard,” Xu Lingyi said. “The foundation for the new wing has been laid. Tomorrow will be a good chance to go have a look.”

They spoke of a few more matters in a leisurely way. Seeing that the hour was not early, they retired for the night.

In the middle of the night, Shiyiniang suddenly woke.

She saw Xu Lingyi sitting leaning against the head of the bed.

In the darkness, the lines of his profile were as clear as if carved in stone.

Shiyiniang thought for a moment, then rustled and shifted herself to a sitting position.

“What is the Marquis thinking about?”

“I disturbed you.” Xu Lingyi turned his face toward her. His voice was flat, carrying a faint undercurrent of sorrow.

“You did not.” Shiyiniang paused, then said in a gentle voice: “I cannot sleep either—I rose so early this morning, then slept the entire afternoon. Now, quite perversely, I am unable to sleep.”

Xu Lingyi was silent for a time, then lay down suddenly: “Sleep. The hour is not early. You must rise early again tomorrow.”

Shiyiniang saw that he did not wish to speak of it and did not press him. She gave an “mm,” closed her eyes.

In the drowsy, drifting edges of approaching sleep, she heard Xu Lingyi say suddenly: “Members of the imperial consort families who become civil officials rise no higher than the sixth rank. The sons of the nobility and aristocracy who become civil officials—none higher than the fourth rank.”

Shiyiniang had not heard this before. She hesitated: “…Is that an established rule?”

“No.” Xu Lingyi said with great difficulty. “Since the founding of the Great Zhou dynasty, of those who did not inherit their titles, only one person has ever risen to the fourth rank. All the others—no higher than the sixth or seventh rank.”

Was he worried about Xu Siyu’s future prospects?

“Then what does the Marquis intend?”

Xu Lingyi was silent for a long moment, then said in a low voice: “I had originally planned to have the Xiang Family help him… Now, he can only rely on himself.”

Shiyiniang was startled: “Is there news from the Xiang Family?”

“No.” Xu Lingyi said. “But one can guess. If something had genuinely come up, they would at least have sent someone with word so that you were not left waiting in vain. To keep you waiting without a word, offering not even the smallest courtesy—most likely they are unwilling. Even if tomorrow Second Sister-in-law returns with some sort of reversal, it is likely only a reluctant concession out of regard for her. A forced union bears no sweetness. Let us just say that Siyu does not have this fortune.” There was a faint note of disappointment in his voice. “A marriage alliance must be willingly entered on both sides. One hand alone cannot clap.”

There was nothing Shiyiniang could say to that.

…

The very next morning, Shiyiniang had barely taken her seat in the western flower hall when a young maidservant came in to report: “Madam, Steward Lu requests an audience.”

Shiyiniang first received Lu Yonggui.

Lu Yonggui stood with his hands at his sides: “I heard that Madam had words for Yongfu, but he was unable to explain things clearly. I am older than him and know more. If Madam has questions, you may ask me directly.”

Hupo suddenly understood.

So the reason Shiyiniang had summoned Lu Yongfu was not to get anything out of him at all—it was to make Lu Yonggui come forward on his own initiative.

“Steward Lu is a very busy man—my maidservant could not even stop him when she called out after him. I had no choice but to summon Lu Yongfu to ask a few questions instead.” Shiyiniang set aside her usual restraint and spoke very directly.

Hupo saw Lu Yonggui give a rueful smile.

“I would not dare.”

He neither admitted nor denied it—with that single phrase, he made his position clear.

Shiyiniang dismissed the other attendants and kept only Hupo, then said: “When the two concubines came from Yuhang to Yanjing, were they coming to find you?”

Lu Yonggui was not startled. He answered with a quiet “yes.”

“When Head Steward Niu was managing the household, my father served as the steward of the accounts. The two of them were close personal friends. Damao Ge often accompanied Head Steward Niu to visit my father and drink wine, and I often used to follow along behind Damao Ge. It was during those times that I came to know the Second Concubine.”

Shiyiniang calculated the timing—it fit.

“One time, the First Master became drunk with wine…” At this point, Lu Yonggui hesitated for quite some time. “The Second Concubine asked me to carry a message to Damao Ge, telling him she wanted to leave with him. Damao Ge said… he could not implicate Head Steward Niu in the matter, and refused.” He said haltingly. “The Second Concubine then berated Damao Ge… whether the words she said were too harsh, or whether Damao Ge simply could not swallow his pride… he threw himself into a well and died. Not long after, accounts at the Hangzhou shop came up irregular, and on top of that came news of the First Master taking a concubine… Head Steward Niu resigned his position as head steward and took his son to Zhenjiang, where he set up a small silk and brocade shop to make a living.”