A Taihu rock taller than the eaves blocked the view from the entrance. In the lingering spring, slender bamboo had already put out a few tender shoots; a light breeze passed through them with a soft, rustling sound. The small courtyard was peaceful and still.

Shiyiniang helped Madam Gan around the courtyard’s ornamental rockery and toward the main room.

The door to the main room stood half-ajar; the latticed windows on the east and west sides were half-open.

She could not help but feel a momentary sense of unreality.

The last time she had come this way, it was to support Yuan Niang… and then she had encountered Xu Lingyi…

This time, though she was supporting Madam Gan, the scene felt so uncannily similar.

Shiyiniang turned her head and looked at Madam Gan.

Madam Gan’s lips were pressed tightly together, her gaze unfocused, and the composed self-possession she usually carried had entirely vanished from her face.

What had happened in the Gan household to leave Madam Gan in such a state?

Shiyiniang was quietly alarmed. Yanrong led a young maid forward to meet them.

“My lady, the room is ready.”

Shiyiniang nodded. Madam Gan came back to herself and said with a polite smile, “I have troubled Fourth Madam.”

“Do not speak of trouble.” Shiyiniang smiled. “I have already sent someone to fetch your personal Nanny.”

Madam Gan smiled briefly, and the two of them entered the main room together.

Perhaps because the room had stood long without being lived in — though it had been swept and tidied — a cold, empty feeling pervaded it throughout.

“Madam Gan, please make do.” Shiyiniang helped Madam Gan to lie down on the lacquered eight-step bed in the eastern chamber, and with her own hands poured a cup of hot tea and offered it to her.

Madam Gan took the teacup and drank several mouthfuls, then let out a long, slow breath, her expression easing a little.

Shiyiniang took a bolster cushion from the large kang by the window and placed it behind Madam Gan’s back. “Please lean back and rest for now. I will stay until your personal Nanny arrives, and then I will go.”

“There is no need,” Madam Gan said gently. “Today is the memorial for your elder sister — you have things to attend to. Do not trouble yourself over me. Are there not still the maids here?” She glanced at the young maids standing nearby.

Shiyiniang had always been fond of Madam Gan’s warmth toward her, and could not bring herself to leave someone feeling so unwell here alone. She pressed on. “A little while longer makes no difference.” Then, thinking of how the noon meal was being served at that moment, she said softly, “Are you hungry? Why not let me have a mutton soup brought for you — eat a little, however much you can manage, then sleep well this afternoon and restore your strength.” Without waiting for Madam Gan’s reply, she turned and instructed Yanrong to see to it.

“There is no need for such trouble,” Madam Gan said quickly, trying to stop her. “I am not hungry.”

Shiyiniang gently reasoned with her. “A person needs to eat to have strength. Without strength, nothing can be managed properly.”

Madam Gan heard this and fell silent for a brief moment.

Shiyiniang’s heart eased a little.

Being willing to listen was a good sign.

She also told the young maid to urge Yanrong along. “Bring it quickly.”

Madam Gan let out a quiet sigh, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the bolster — its ground of deep red embroidered with pale yellow hibiscus flowers framing her pallid face, lending her a frail and delicate air.

Shiyiniang gently tucked the coverlet around her, then sat on the small stool beside the bed to keep her company.

It was not long before Yanrong hurried in with the mutton soup.

Shiyiniang served it to Madam Gan with her own hands.

Madam Gan managed to eat a few pieces.

Shiyiniang poured her a cup of hot tea to rinse her mouth, removed the bolster cushion, and helped her to lie down. Then she softly lowered the bed curtain and was just preparing to leave when a hand reached out and gripped her.

“Fourth Madam…”

Shiyiniang looked down and saw Madam Gan’s eyes brimming with tears.

“The child is gone.” The moment she spoke the words, tears poured down her face.

The child is gone? Whose child? Was it Madam Gan’s?

Shiyiniang’s gaze fell involuntarily to Madam Gan’s abdomen.

Yanrong’s expression changed at once. With a single gesture, she immediately led all the serving maids out of the room and positioned herself at the door.

But even as the thought arose in Shiyiniang’s mind, she immediately dismissed it.

Madam Gan had no children of her own; both Cao’e and Lantian, as well as the Marquis of Zhongqin’s several sons, had all been born of the first wife. If the child had been Madam Gan’s — a son born in middle age — that would have been a joyous event indeed. Even if she might not have been showered with adoration, she would hardly have been running about tirelessly managing Lantian’s wedding as she was now.

While Shiyiniang was thinking this through, Madam Gan had already choked out her words through tears. “When I was young, the Marquis was afraid that if I bore a son it might give me ideas, so he always guarded against it… I told myself I was a second wife, a wife who had come midway into the marriage. It was only natural that the Marquis did not feel secure… One comes to understand a horse on a long road, and knows a person’s heart over time. As long as I was genuinely good to him, and genuinely good to the children, sooner or later he would understand the kind of person I am… But how could I have known…” Madam Gan began to weep in a low voice. “Now that the Marquis wishes to leave me some support in my old age, the Heir Apparent has started to worry… He is already a man with grandchildren of his own. The child was but a common room attendant’s — merely adopted under my name. And even that cannot be tolerated?” She broke down, covering her mouth to muffle her sobs.

The absence at the gift-giving ceremony, the elation on First Young Madam’s face, the fainting today — all of it now had an explanation.

Shiyiniang looked at Madam Gan — a woman who wept in such silence, not daring to cry freely and aloud — and felt tears gather at the corners of her own eyes.

“Since the Marquis had the intention, and the child is now gone — another can be had in time,” she said, words she did not believe herself, trying to offer some comfort. “Please do not grieve too deeply. Your health is what matters.”

“Another…” Madam Gan murmured with a lost, hollow look, gently shaking her head. “The Marquis is old now… there will be no more chances…” Crystalline tears traced their way down Madam Gan’s cheeks and fell onto the pillow, at once dissolving into a spreading stain of deep red. She bit her lip tightly, as though afraid that in a moment of heartbreak and emotion she might say something she ought not to.

Tears fell from Shiyiniang’s eyes.

Fearing her powder would smear, she quickly brought out her handkerchief and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

…

From that day, after she had seen Madam Gan off, Shiyiniang would sometimes fall into a reverie when she was alone.

Hupo, worried, said, “My lady, once these two days have passed, it will be better.”

“I am fine,” Shiyiniang replied. “I am only thinking things over.”

As Shiyiniang began to take charge of the household affairs, the people they encountered grew more numerous, and the matters they faced more varied. Sometimes even Hupo had to carefully sort through her thoughts to keep them in order, let alone Shiyiniang.

Hupo did not dare disturb her, and could only attend to her daily needs with particular care.

She washed cherries herself and brought them on a crystal dish.

Zhen Jie’er returned from Marquis Weibei’s mansion.

Shiyiniang called out to her. “Go and wash your hands and come eat cherries!”

Yanrong and the others quickly brought water for Zhen Jie’er to wash her face and hands.

Zhen Jie’er settled warmly beside Shiyiniang.

“How was it?” Shiyiniang pushed the crystal dish of cherries toward her. “Still lively over there, I imagine?”

Zhen Jie’er nodded eagerly. “Fang Jie’er and her two female cousins, Xi’er and one of her female cousins, the Twelfth Aunt — and then there were also Miss Li of the Li family, and two misses from the Liang family… they could barely all fit at three tables. They were playing a drum-passing game with flowers!”

She had left at noon and it was now early afternoon — she had been gone barely an hour and a half, and had come back having only eaten the midday meal.

“Do you feel a little regretful?” Shiyiniang smiled at Zhen Jie’er. The other sisters and cousins were all there playing, yet she had had to come home.

“Not at all!” Zhen Jie’er smiled brightly. “Hui Jie’er was so happy to see me come.” She added, “Second Aunt is right too — I have not yet ended my mourning period, so it is better to attend fewer occasions like that.” Then she tugged at Shiyiniang’s sleeve with a slightly coaxing manner. “Mother, I will never do this again!”

Looking at her contented, glowing face, Shiyiniang smiled and drew her into her arms. “Good that you understand. When you get back, remember to say a word to your Second Aunt as well.”

Zhen Jie’er nodded, then a trace of hesitation crossed her face.

“What is it?” Shiyiniang asked her gently.

Zhen Jie’er thought for a moment, then lowered her voice. “Second Aunt seems to have been in rather low spirits these past two days!”

Since Madam Xiang had returned to her natal family to look after her sister-in-law, Second Madam had gone out twice more — once, she said, to visit the Xiang family to inquire after the illness, and once to see Xiang’s husband off as he left for his post. But Second Madam’s expression was always composed and subdued, and Shiyiniang herself had been very busy. The few times they had met at the Old Madam’s rooms, she had not looked at her carefully.

She pondered this. “Do you know what she might be unhappy about?”

“I do not,” Zhen Jie’er replied. “But I noticed that Jiexiang has been moving very quietly these past few days, and has even been scolding the young maids for making too much noise.”

Shiyiniang had to laugh. “And that already counts as being unhappy? Does not your Hupo Sister scold the young maids too?”

“That is different!” Zhen Jie’er said earnestly. “Mother has a gentle temperament, and though everyone respects you, they are not afraid of you. Those maids who do not know any better think you easy to get along with and sometimes overstep. If Hupo Sister does not manage and discipline them, the young maids would have no sense of propriety at all. But Second Aunt has a very solemn manner — everyone is already a little on edge around her, let alone inclined to make merry. And Jiexiang has always had a very even temper. For her to be scolding the young maids now…” She muttered to herself, “Most likely Second Aunt’s mood has been poor, and even the smallest sound irritates her — so Jiexiang ends up losing her temper over it.”

Shiyiniang had little sense of hierarchy and propriety herself. She observed the customs but did not press them, and did not scrutinize minor overstepping — the young maids, being young, were more relaxed around her. Unlike the steward Nannies, each of whom she had corrected at one point or another, and always with precision, so that they were, if anything, somewhat more guarded in her presence.

But Zhen Jie had observed all of this quite carefully indeed!

Second Madam was not managing the household, and had no unruly children to contend with. As for Xu Siyu’s marriage — it was not going smoothly, but there had been no definitive word from the Xiang family either in refusal or acceptance. If Second Madam was in low spirits, could it be related to the Xiang family’s continued silence?

After seeing Zhen Jie’er off, Shiyiniang asked Hupo to make inquiries about Second Madam’s visits to her natal family.

The following day, Hupo came back with a report.

“According to the carriage attendant, when Second Madam went to Madam Xiang’s natal family to inquire after the illness, she stayed for less than the time it takes a stick of incense to burn, and left without even staying for the meal. At the time, it was Master Xiang who saw Second Madam to the inner gate. Second Madam asked Master Xiang when he would be returning, and he looked very ill at ease, saying that he really ought to wait until Madam Xiang’s elder sister-in-law, Madam Gao, had recovered before going back. Second Madam let out a sigh, said nothing more, and came home.

“On the later visit to her natal family — Madam Xiang and the young masters and misses had not yet returned. Madam Xiang’s personal Nanny was directing the household servants to load boxes and trunks onto a carriage. Earlier she had said they would have dinner before returning to the mansion. But toward dusk, a manservant came from the Gao household, saying that Old Master Gao had heard that Master Xiang was about to leave for his post and wished to speak with him, and summoned Master Xiang to go over at once. Second Madam had not even eaten dinner, and simply came home.”

Madam Xiang had stayed at her natal home all this while, and had not even come to see her husband off to his post. Second Madam had gone to the Gao household to inquire after the illness but had not stayed for the meal. And when the siblings had their conversation, Master Xiang was promptly summoned away by a manservant sent from the Gao household…

By the look of things, this matter was not going to settle down so quickly.