“Madam Liang said that the Grand Dowager of the Gan family has moved to the rear garden. She came specifically to tell you.”
Now that the heir apparent had assumed the title, the former Eldest Daughter-in-law of Gan had become the new Madam Gan, while the former Madam Gan had been honored with the title of Grand Dowager.
Shiyiniang dismissed Nanny Song and, on the following day, went with the red lacquer gold-painted box to the Gan household.
Under the laws of the Great Zhou dynasty, the family estate was to be divided equally among all sons, legitimate and otherwise. The father of the Third Madam of that household was also among those contesting the inheritance with the new Earl of Zhongqin. Not wishing to offend Shiyiniang and drive the neutral Xu family to the opposing side, the new Madam Gan greeted her with a respectful smile and accompanied her to the Grand Dowager’s courtyard.
The courtyard had been built into the northeastern corner of the rear garden: two small black lacquer doors, and beyond them a screen wall. Walking around the screen wall, one came upon three rooms on each side, and facing them three main rooms with side chambers. The courtyard was tidy, but utterly bare — not a tree in sight, nor so much as a potted plant. Only the small Pekingese dog the Grand Dowager had long kept lay sprawled lazily on the stone steps, basking in the sun. It felt profoundly solitary and desolate.
A maidservant had already gone inside to announce the visitor. Just as Shiyiniang set her foot upon the steps, the Grand Dowager herself came out to receive her.
She was dressed in a summer cloth skirt and jacket of deep black, her glossy, dark hair neatly arranged in a round coiled bun, without a single hairpin or ornament — the attire of a widow in mourning. Though there were evident dark circles under her eyes, her spirits were somewhat better than at their last meeting.
“You have come,” the Grand Dowager said, a faint smile in her eyes.
Shiyiniang curtseyed in greeting and said: “I heard from Lan Ting that you had moved here, so I came especially to see you.”
The Grand Dowager exchanged a few polite pleasantries, then led her and the new Madam Gan inside.
The furnishings were all in black lacquer. A landscape painting hung in the central hall; on the long table stood celadon blue-and-white porcelain plum vases — all pieces that had originally belonged to the Grand Dowager. The room held a faint scent of fresh lacquer.
All parties took their places as hosts and guests. A small maidservant served tea and refreshments, and they exchanged pleasant but unremarkable conversation. Then a small maidservant came in to announce: “Madam, the Earl requests that you go to the main hall — he says there is a matter to discuss.”
The new Madam Gan immediately grew restless upon hearing this. She exchanged a few pleasantries with Shiyiniang and warmly pressed her to stay for a meal before finally taking her leave to go to the main hall.
The moment she left, the Grand Dowager drew Shiyiniang into the inner chamber.
The two of them sat on the kang by the window in the inner room, dismissed the attending maidservants, and Shiyiniang drew the small box from her bodice.
The Grand Dowager’s face was filled with gratitude: “It is a good thing you sent someone to look in on me. Otherwise, I would never have been able to get this box out.” She then, right before Shiyiniang, placed the box behind the carved panel at the head of her bed — the panel carved with the design of Mencius’s mother moving three times — turned and sat back on the kang. “Those are several deeds of property and land that the late Earl quietly purchased for me some years ago. I never thought he would go so soon…” As she spoke, her eyes grew slightly moist.
Shiyiniang quickly drew out a handkerchief and passed it to the Grand Dowager, though inwardly she felt somewhat disapproving.
If he had truly been thinking of the Grand Dowager’s welfare, he ought, in those years when his health was still passable, to have found a way to have a child by a servant woman and have it registered under the Grand Dowager’s name. What use were these property deeds? Women have no right to private property. It was only of value if the Grand Dowager could actually lay hands on it.
She said: “This matter — do you not think you should consult with the Chief Minister of Transmission? Transferring deeds of property involves certain proper procedures.”
The Grand Dowager took the handkerchief and dabbed at the corners of her eyes, then said quietly: “My elder brother knows of this matter. At the time, the late Earl had those several properties transferred into my dowry as supplementary holdings put in by my family of origin. The Earl’s quarrel with my elder brother was over these very properties. My elder brother agreed to support the Earl in setting aside one-fifth of the family estate as ancestral sacrifice land — in exchange, he would not pursue the matter of these properties.”
Shiyiniang drew a sharp breath inward.
The ancestral sacrifice land of the Gan family was to be managed by each successive Earl of Zhongqin. With one-fifth of the common estate set aside as such before the family property had even been divided, that portion had effectively been secured in the hands of the new Earl.
The Grand Dowager understood this all too well.
She gave a faint sigh, her mood subdued and listless: “Let us speak no more of these tangled affairs of mine.” She then smiled and said, “My given name is Fu Zhen. You may call me Fu Zhen.”
Only the very closest of friends exchanged intimate names.
Shiyiniang smiled and called the Grand Dowager “Elder Sister Fu Zhen,” then said, “My own informal name is Mo Yan.”
Fu Zhen listened, and smilingly called her “Younger Sister Mo Yan.”
Shiyiniang’s expression faltered momentarily.
To be honest, being addressed in this way felt genuinely a little awkward.
But the Grand Dowager had not noticed any of this. She asked after Shiyiniang with warm concern: “You should have moved back by now. How are you finding it?”
She was referring, of course, to resuming life together with the concubines under one roof.
“It is manageable, I suppose,” Shiyiniang replied with a restrained smile. “One cannot live at the water pavilion forever — there are some things that cannot be avoided.”
The Grand Dowager’s gaze fell to Shiyiniang’s abdomen.
The two of them had spoken in private not long before.
Shiyiniang understood her meaning and said: “There is no news yet on my end.”
The Grand Dowager grew somewhat concerned and counseled her: “I urge you to think it through more carefully. Having a child will make your life much easier in the years to come.”
“I will leave it to fate,” Shiyiniang said, her tone not particularly eager.
She knew that having a child would change a great deal for her, and yet she was truly unwilling to treat a child as a chip in life’s bargaining game. That little being — one who would bring both exasperation and sweetness — ought to be life’s most beautiful gift. Let Heaven decide when the time was right to bestow it.
The Grand Dowager gave a gentle sigh.
Shiyiniang was, after all, still very young — not yet old enough to understand the truth that no flower blooms for a hundred days, and no fortune lasts forever. But that was precisely the reason young people radiated such vitality: they always felt they had an abundance of time, no shortage of opportunities, and their hearts were full of hope for the future.
She said no more to counsel Shiyiniang; sometimes only lived experience could bring about a change.
The Grand Dowager shifted the conversation to the subject of how she had spent the Mid-Autumn Festival: “Your son-in-law will be coming today to bring the Mid-Autumn Festival gifts, I expect?”
“Yes,” Shiyiniang said. “They came a few days ago — the usual offerings of tea, wine, mooncakes, and sweetmeats, along with a specialty from Cangzhou: golden-threaded dates.”
Just as they were talking, the new Madam Gan came in with a smile and invited Shiyiniang to the main hall for the midday meal. Shiyiniang declined on the pretext of having matters to attend to at home and rose to take her leave.
Back at home, she thought of the Grand Dowager’s courtyard, and for some reason could not find sleep. Xu Lingyi drew her into his arms: “What is the matter? You are sleeping so restlessly.”
“Nothing,” Shiyiniang said. “Perhaps the autumn insects are a little noisy tonight.”
Xu Lingyi listened carefully, and heard only the occasional brief chirping.
A contemplative expression crossed his face.
The next day at midday, when he returned from the outer quarters, he spotted Nanny Song and the wife of Jiting at the decorative gate, helping a small maidservant up into a carriage.
The two of them saw Xu Lingyi and quickly came forward to pay their respects. Nanny Song explained: “Madam asked me to bring a portion of the golden-threaded dates from Cangzhou that the son-in-law sent the other day to the Earl of Zhongqin’s household for the Grand Dowager to taste.” She then indicated Jiting’s wife. “And she asked her to accompany me, to see what is lacking in the Grand Dowager’s quarters, so that some flowering plants and trees may be sent over.”
Xu Lingyi felt a quiet shock within.
He had not expected that Shiyiniang would look after the Grand Dowager of the Gan family with such consideration.
He gave an imperceptible nod and returned to the inner chambers.
Shiyiniang was seated on the kang, holding up a flash card covered in written characters to teach Xu Sijie how to recognize them.
“See here — these three characters together read ‘xiang jiu ling.’ I told you the story of Huang Xiang warming his parents’ bed, and now you must find these three characters. Do you understand?” Her patience seemed inexhaustible.
Xu Sijie hugged a small bolster pillow and nodded again and again.
Xu Lingyi observed this in a contemplative silence.
Shiyiniang then heard Xu Sijie call out, “Father.”
“The Marquis has returned!” She smiled and stepped down from the kang.
A small maidservant came running in: “Madam, there is a letter from Yuhang.”
Shiyiniang accepted it and glanced at the script — delicate and graceful in its brushwork. It was her teacher Jian’s hand.
“This is a letter from Teacher Jian,” she said smilingly to Xu Lingyi by way of explanation, then broke the seal and sat on the kang to read it. A moment later she looked up, and a glimmer of delight had appeared in her brow: “She says she set out from Yuhang in mid-July.” She paused, and her smile faded: “But why has this letter come so late? By my reckoning, Teacher Jian and Qiu Ju should be arriving these next day or two!”
When Shiyiniang had first written, Teacher Jian had written back saying she was willing to come to Yanjing and see something of the world. But as she still had a few students to see to, she could not give a firm date of arrival. Shiyiniang had thought that with students in her charge, she would likely not set out until the year’s end or after the new year — she had not expected her to have already departed by mid-year.
This gave her no small cause for worry.
Could something have happened?
Xu Lingyi assumed she was concerned that Teacher Jian’s sudden arrival would leave no one ready to meet her, and laughed: “Do not worry. I will send someone to Tongzhou to meet her at the dock.”
Teacher Jian was, after all, a lone woman of some age making her first journey to Yanjing; to have someone there to meet her boat would be best of all.
Shiyiniang thanked Xu Lingyi, and he made arrangements for someone to go to Tongzhou to meet the arrival.
On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Grand Madam first led the household’s women and womenfolk to the Biyi Sluice to make offerings to the moon, then went to the Qiongling Mountain Estate, where they ate mooncakes, drank osmanthus-blossom wine, and admired the moon.
Zhun Ge and Xu Sijie carried their rabbit lanterns, chasing and tumbling about in the great hall, singing the children’s rhyme: “The lotus blossom is not yet fully open — and already the Mid-Autumn Festival has come again. Every family cuts the mooncake; incense, candles, paper spirit-money, rabbit lanterns — riddle games and drinking songs for the moonlit night.” This drew peals of delighted laughter from all around.
After the Mid-Autumn Festival, Shiyiniang brought Jiting’s wife to the Grand Dowager’s courtyard. She sent over a great many flowering trees, and Jiting’s wife directed the rough-work maids there to move a portion of the potted flowering plants indoors and plant the others in the courtyard.
The Grand Dowager took her to task: “I am half in my grave already — why must you go and offend her on my account?”
“You are not yet in your grave, surely,” Shiyiniang smiled. “Elder Sister Fu Zhen, in light of all the care and concern I have shown you, you ought at the very least to live in cheerful good spirits out of gratitude to me.”
The Grand Dowager said nothing. She gazed at Shiyiniang in astonishment, then broke into a faint smile: “When I was your age, I spent every day worrying whether I had said the wrong thing or done something to offend someone…You are far stronger than I was at your age.”
“Are you?” Shiyiniang was taken aback.
Could she really be coming across as too self-possessed?
She was inwardly flustered by the thought, but the Grand Dowager had already taken her by the arm: “But that is a good thing — it means you will not be like me…” Her tone held a quality of heartfelt relief, and she led Shiyiniang toward the inner chamber.
Shiyiniang felt a flush of self-consciousness.
They had just settled themselves on the large kang by the window in the inner room when a crowd of maidservants and matrons came in, surrounding the new Madam Gan.
The new Madam Gan, seeing the animated scene in the courtyard, showed a flicker of displeasure on her face.
The Grand Dowager said calmly: “I asked the Marchioness of Yongping to bring me some flowering plants suitable for this courtyard. Do you see, Madam — the tree planted in the corner there is said to be a Chinese toon. Come spring, one can pick the young shoots and stir-fry them with eggs. What do you think? Not too bad, is it?”
The new Madam Gan, with an embarrassed sidelong glance at Shiyiniang, smiled and said: “Whatever Mother has decided, it cannot possibly be wrong.” She then stayed to exchange a few brief words before excusing herself and departing in haste.
* * *