Shiyiniang had the small maids bring out brocade stools for the yiniangsto sit on.

Nan Yong’s wife came in carrying Xu Sijie to pay his morning respects.

Shiyiniang was mildly surprised.

It was barely the third quarter past the Hour of Mao — the sky had not yet fully brightened. Why had he come so early?

She looked toward Nan Yong’s wife, but Nan Yong’s wife kept her eyes downcast as she set Xu Sijie down on the floor.

Xu Sijie greeted Shiyiniang properly. But instead of flinging himself into her arms as he usually did, he stood with hands at his sides, keeping his place.

Shiyiniang found this odd, but recalling that Master Zhao had been teaching him proper etiquette of late, she did not dwell on it. She gestured toward Yang Shi and told Xu Sijie, “This is Yang Yiniang,” then introduced Xu Sijie to Yang Shi. “And this is the Fifth Young Master.”

Yang Shi quickly smiled and called out, “Fifth Young Master,” and curtseyed to him.

But Xu Sijie did not even glance at her. He looked at Shiyiniang, addressed Yang Shi with a perfunctory “Yang Yiniang,” then turned to look at Nan Yong’s wife, then back at Shiyiniang, and pouted with a most aggrieved expression.

That must have been on Nan Yong’s wife’s instructions.

People had always said she spoiled Xu Sijie too much — that she held him in her arms and let him clamber over her, which was short on a mother’s authority. Today was Yang Shi’s first morning paying her respects; Nan Yong’s wife must have worried Yang Shi would see this and think lightly of her.

Shiyiniang looked at Nan Yong’s wife and smiled, then beckoned to Xu Sijie. “Come here, to Mother.”

Xu Sijie broke into a radiant smile and flung himself at Shiyiniang like a bird freed from a cage.

“Mother, Mother, may I play my flute for you today?”

The day before, with the commotion of Yang Shi’s arrival, Shiyiniang had sent Xu Sijie off early with Nan Yong’s wife to rest.

“Of course.” Shiyiniang smiled and ruffled his hair.

Xu Sijie beamed with delight.

A maid came in. “Madam, the Fourth Young Master has come to pay his respects.”

“Please show him in!” Shiyiniang said warmly.

Xu Sijie, leaning against Shiyiniang, rose onto his toes to peer toward the door.

Xu Sizhun came in, dressed in a sapphire-blue Hu-Hang Taoist-style robe.

“Mother!” He greeted Shiyiniang with proper deference, but as he lifted his head he caught sight of an unfamiliar young woman and, knowing she must be the new concubine his father had taken, looked on with undisguised curiosity.

Shiyiniang introduced Yang Shi to him.

Yang Shi knew that the child before her was the heir to the Marquis of Yongping’s household.

She curtseyed and gave him a swift side-glance.

He looked no more than six or seven years of age, with snow-white skin and a slight, delicate build — the look of one who could not bear the weight of heavy clothes.

He gave her a casual bow in response, then went running to Shiyiniang’s side.

“Fifth Brother!” He and Xu Sijie wrapped their arms around each other. Then the two leaned close and murmured between themselves for a moment, after which Xu Sizhun pulled at Shiyiniang’s sleeve and wheedled. “Mother, it has been several days since I came to eat midday rice with you. Let me come today. I want the pork, bean sprout, and corn dumpling soup I had last time.”

“Mother, Mother,” Xu Sijie also tugged at Shiyiniang’s sleeve from the other side, “I want some too, I want some too!”

The atmosphere in the room brightened at once.

“Enough, enough — stop pulling at my sleeves or you will tear them!” Shiyiniang laughed and teased the two brothers. “I will have Zhuxiang and the others prepare pork, bean sprout, and corn dumplings at midday for you.”

The two boys cheered.

Xu Sizhun then took Xu Sijie by the hand. “Mother, we are going to school now!”

“Your father drank too much wine yesterday and is resting inside.” Shiyiniang smiled and helped straighten Xu Sizhun’s collar. “Go and pay your father your respects before you go to school.”

Xu Sizhun, hearing this, pursed his lips and lingered reluctantly at Shiyiniang’s side.

Qiao Lianfang, standing behind Shiyiniang, heard these words and let her gaze fall on the curtain that hung before the inner chamber.

Wen Yiniang, watching from her composed vantage point, silently cursed Qiao Lianfang for her foolishness.

Even if one wanted to compete for favor and ingratiate oneself, this was not the moment — not with Yang Shi just arrived and making her first morning call on Shiyiniang.

At this thought, she could not help but glance toward Yang Shi.

Yang Shi sat upright on her brocade stool, eyes lowered in quiet composure, as though she had not heard Shiyiniang’s words at all — steady as a mountain.

Wen Yiniang gave a quiet, inward sigh.

This one was also not going to be a simple presence to reckon with.

While she was still turning the thought over, she heard Qin Yiniang’s voice, carrying a smile. “Fourth Young Master, with the Mistress here, you need only go — the Marquis will not reprimand you.”

It was common knowledge throughout the household that the Marquis was deeply dissatisfied with Xu Sizhun’s timid, faint-hearted manner, and that on the seven or eight occasions out of ten when Xu Sizhun came to pay his respects, a lecture was sure to follow.

Qin Yiniang’s words, spoken in Yang Shi’s presence, carried considerable weight.

If the Marquis did not reprimand the boy, it would simply be a scene of a loving mother and devoted son; but if the Marquis did reprimand him…

Wen Yiniang let out a quiet inward sigh.

Was Qin Yiniang trying to tell Yang Shi that Xu Sizhun, though the heir, was not favored by his father? Or was she suggesting that Shiyiniang — a mere secondary wife who had come later — was not truly regarded by the Marquis?

She looked toward Xu Sizhun.

Xu Sizhun and Xu Sijie were both leaning against Shiyiniang. One had features of fine delicate beauty, bearing some resemblance to Shiyiniang; the other had bright phoenix eyes, bearing some resemblance to Xu Lingyi. Both had the hanging-gallbladder nose characteristic of Xu men — someone who did not know better might take them for full brothers.

Two such brothers standing before the Marquis…

A small smile crept onto Wen Yiniang’s lips.

The thought had barely flickered through her mind when, giving in to a mischievous impulse, she followed Qin Yiniang’s lead and chimed in with a smile. “Indeed, Fourth Young Master — with the Mistress here, you need only go.”

Shiyiniang shot a slightly puzzled glance at Wen Yiniang.

That Qin Yiniang’s words held an undercurrent was plain enough — and anyone with Wen Yiniang’s cleverness would certainly have caught it. She was the sort who ordinarily kept out of such matters, so why was she now echoing Qin Yiniang and fanning the flames?

Wen Yiniang caught her eye and gave a deliberate wink.

Shiyiniang could not grasp the meaning, yet she sensed no ill intent behind it, and her puzzlement only deepened.

The two boys, of course, had no knowledge of what moved in the minds of the adults around them. Xu Sizhun felt moreover that Qin Yiniang and Wen Yiniang spoke sense. Shiyiniang had always shielded him — if he was truly scolded, she would surely speak up for him. And besides, he ought by rights to go and pay his respects to his father.

He collected himself, took Xu Sijie’s hand, and went to the inner chamber.

Hupo moved unobtrusively to hold back the curtain, then followed the two brothers inside.

Shiyiniang set her mind at ease. She picked up her tea bowl and took a few sips, letting the corner of her eye observe Yang Shi.

For a moment the main hall was so still one might hear a pin drop.

From the inner chamber came Xu Lingyi’s voice — somewhat gentler than usual — and Xu Sizhun’s halting replies, punctuated here and there by Xu Sijie’s laughter.

Shiyiniang then saw Yang Shi’s hands, resting in her lap, give a small movement.

She smiled faintly and looked over at Wen Yiniang.

There was Wen Yiniang, smiling at the corner of her lips, watching Qin Yiniang with eyes full of amusement.

How was Wen Yiniang so certain that Xu Lingyi would not scold Xu Sizhun this time?

Shiyiniang was quite at a loss, yet she knew that this moment of stillness should not be allowed to stretch on. She smiled and said to Wen Yiniang, “This is Wu Yi tea sent down from the palace before the new year — how do you find it?”

Wen Yiniang was an expert at keeping the conversation lively. She immediately smiled and said, “I am no judge of tea — the finest brew would be wasted on me, like an ox chewing peonies. Qiao Yiniang, you have the most discerning taste — what do you think of this tea?”

Qiao Lianfang’s heart at that moment felt as though it were being seared in a pan of hot oil.

The night before she had heard that the Marquis had stayed in Shiyiniang’s room, and she had taken secret comfort in it — thinking either that Yang Shi was too plain-looking to catch the Marquis’s eye, or that her own earlier words to Shiyiniang had had some effect, and Shiyiniang had used some means to keep the Marquis with her. But this morning, seeing Yang Shi in person, her heart sank by half.

She had not imagined the Empress Dowager would send such a ravishingly beautiful woman to the Marquis, and she had even less imagined that despite all this, Shiyiniang had still managed to keep the Marquis in her own room, giving Yang Shi a humbling reception from the outset.

Then she thought again of how the Marquis had grown distant from her ever since she had harmed his prospects for an heir. Now with a new beauty through the door, if she did not make an effort, the Marquis would have no thought of her at all.

Yet to deal with Yang Shi, she could only draw on the authority of Shiyiniang’s position as principal wife.

Because only certain things, done by the principal wife, carried legitimacy and proper standing.

Her mind made up, she had come in and warmly supported Shiyiniang by the arm as she entered, hoping to ease the tension between them and at the same time give Yang Shi the impression that she and Shiyiniang were as close as sisters.

She had not expected Yang Shi, from the very moment she entered, to present embroidered shoes, to kneel before Shiyiniang without hesitation, performing the full rite more deferentially than even Qin Rong, the maidservant-born concubine — Qin Yiniang.

She could not help but feel a chill of apprehension.

If this continued, Shiyiniang would likely grow close to Yang Shi.

She also thought of all the grievances and entanglements between herself and Shiyiniang.

If Shiyiniang were to use Yang Shi against her… then she herself… where would she have left to stand?

Still nursing that lingering dread, she suddenly heard Wen Yiniang call her name.

Qiao Lianfang jolted, and it took her some moments to collect herself. She looked around to find everyone in the room watching her; she struggled to recall what Wen Yiniang had just said, and forced a smile. “I — I…”

She managed to produce nothing further.

The curtain of the inner chamber was suddenly lifted open. Xu Sizhun and Xu Sijie came out looking bright and exhilarated.

All eyes in the room turned to the two brothers.

Qiao Lianfang quietly let out a breath of relief.

“Mother, Fifth Brother and I are going to school!” Xu Sizhun called out to Shiyiniang at full voice, with unmistakable excitement.

Shiyiniang rose to see them off. “Be careful on the way.”

Both brothers nodded earnestly. Just then, Zhen Jie’er arrived.

“Elder Brother, you are late!” Xu Sizhun, more lively than usual, teased her. “Fifth Brother and I have already paid our respects to Mother and Father and are just going to the schoolroom.”

Zhen Jie’er’s face flushed slightly. “I went to pick flowers for Mother.”

Only then did Xu Sizhun notice the small maid Xiao Li following behind Zhen Jie’er, carrying a sky-blue long-necked vase containing four or five bowl-sized camellia blooms.

Zhen Jie’er came forward and greeted Shiyiniang properly.

“Mother,” she said, taking the long-necked vase from Xiao Li’s arms, “these are the finest red — I had Ji Ting’s wife raise them specially for you. The idea is to stand in for the hibiscus for now — once a few more days pass, the magnolias will be in bloom.”

Everyone in the household knew that Shiyiniang loved large-blossomed flowers arranged on the windowsill. Though there was a warming house, it could not, due to its limitations, supply fresh flowers through all four seasons. These camellias lacked the wild abandon of hibiscus, yet had more of hibiscus’s stately presence. Besides, they had been especially cultivated and sent by Zhen Jie’er.

“Beautiful!” Shiyiniang smiled and took the long-necked vase. “Very beautiful!” Then she added, “At this time of year, to have Ji Ting’s wife raising camellias for you — I expect Ji Ting’s wife has been driven quite mad by your requests?”

Zhen Jie’er pressed her lips together in a quiet smile, and did not answer.