“The noise woke the Marquis!” Luo Shiyiniang settled back against the bolster pillow at the head of the bed. “There is no need for the Marquis to worry. Qiao Yiniang is all right. I just asked the junior maid who came to report, and the nannies heard a thumping sound from inside the curtained bed and that is how they discovered that Qiao Yiniang’s attempt had failed…”

Xu Lingyi also leaned back against the bolster pillow at the head of the bed.

From the moment someone knocked at the door, he had been awake. He had heard clearly every word the junior maid reported and every measure Luo Shiyiniang had taken.

If one truly intended to hang oneself, one would not make such a loud commotion.

Qiao Lianfang was simply trying to use this to threaten and coerce Luo Shiyiniang.

And Luo Shiyiniang was not genuinely intending to do away with Qiao Lianfang either.

She was simply trying to give Qiao Lianfang a fright.

Which was why, though she had sent those three items, she had also had them placed on the altar table in the main room, with word that if the disturbances continued, Qiao Lianfang would be sent to the temple tomorrow morning… leaving her half a night to think things over, and giving her a way to step down gracefully.

He breathed in deeply.

Luo Shiyiniang’s composure and decisiveness certainly surprised him, yet Qiao Lianfang’s transformation surprised him even more.

Xu Lingyi stared up at the canopy of the bed, his expression tinged with disappointment.

“I have seen men’s wounds fester and rot, and cut away the corrupted flesh with a blade myself, then doused it with spirits,” he said, his voice carrying a note of melancholy. “I have seen men with shattered limbs bind a wooden stick to the stump with a belt and drag themselves ten li to find a physician for treatment… Not once did they think of dying — all they thought of was how to survive. And how many among them struggled to live, yet could not manage to do so… Yet she treats her own life as a trifle, uses it as leverage over others…”

He must be speaking of Qiao Lianfang.

Luo Shiyiniang looked at him and inwardly let out a quiet sigh.

After all, she had been a woman who once served him. That things had come to this pass — surely there was at least some measure of feeling in that.

Yet when Luo Shiyiniang had heard about it just now, she had found it almost laughable.

Only those who love you will ache with your pain and grieve with your sorrow. For those who do not love you, it matters little to them whether you live or die.

“Perhaps to Qiao Yiniang, this matter is very important,” she could only say, in vague and ambiguous terms.

It was like those children with little experience of the world — missing their favorite story was already the end of everything. How could they know the true value of life?

Xu Lingyi gave a slow shake of his head.

It was simply the consequence of a life far too comfortable and too indulgent.

Weariness crept into his voice: “If she continues to make trouble tomorrow, send her to Dajue Temple for a while.”

“Dajue Temple?” Luo Shiyiniang was somewhat surprised.

She did not know this temple. Then again, she did not know many temples to begin with.

“Our household has not offered incense at Dajue Temple before,” Luo Shiyiniang said uncertainly. “Is the Marquis well acquainted with this monastery?”

“Ordinary temples attract all manner of people, and over time, idle gossips inevitably appear.” Xu Lingyi’s expression was complex, and he did not answer directly. “Dajue Temple is located in a remote area, with strict monastic rules — it is an excellent place for quiet retreat. I will have Steward Bai pay a visit to the abbot tomorrow to arrange things.”

A remote location meant few visitors; strict rules meant firm management. Having Steward Bai go to make arrangements suggested the Xu household had some connection with the place. If matters truly came to that, at least Dajue Temple would be safer than most ordinary temples. Besides, Xu Lingyi had only spoken of sending her there for a time — there would always be a day she was brought back. If it could wear away some of Qiao Lianfang’s temper in the meantime, it might not be a bad thing for her at all.

Luo Shiyiniang gave a nod.

Xu Lingyi leaned over and blew out the lamp: “Let’s sleep early.”

The room was plunged immediately into darkness.

Luo Shiyiniang rustled and settled down, and was drawn into Xu Lingyi’s embrace.

Within the curtained bed, only the soft, shallow breathing of two people could be heard, filling the space with a few degrees of quiet tranquility.

“Moyan,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine gravity. “Do you also think such matters are very important?”

He was asking whether, if she found herself in such a situation, she would do the same.

Luo Shiyiniang gave a self-deprecating smile.

If it were her, she would certainly never have let things reach this point.

But to explain all of that would take too long, and there was no need.

“At the very least, I would not hang myself,” she said with a touch of self-mockery. “Otherwise, I would be leaving behind this whole great estate for someone else to enjoy.”

Xu Lingyi laughed out loud.

All the heaviness and gloom of a moment ago was swept away entirely.

He gently kissed her at the temple: “Then it is settled between us — we cannot leave this great estate for someone else to enjoy.”

There was a gravity in his tone that gave Luo Shiyiniang a slight pause.

The next morning, as they had just risen, Nanny Song came in looking worn and haggard.

She glanced uneasily at Xu Lingyi, who was sitting cross-legged on the large daybed by the window feeding his goldfish, then opened and closed her mouth without speaking.

Luo Shiyiniang’s heart gave a quiet premonition of trouble.

Xu Lingyi had already set down the fish food in his hand and, while accepting the handkerchief a junior maid offered to wipe his hands, said coolly: “Speak.”

Nanny Song cast Luo Shiyiniang a glance, then lowered her voice: “Qiao Yiniang is shouting that she wants to see the Marquis, and has smashed all the writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone that were sent to her.”

Luo Shiyiniang could not help but frown.

Xu Lingyi then instructed Lvyun, who was standing nearby in attendance: “Go and summon Steward Bai.” He then turned to Luo Shiyiniang and said: “Assign a few capable nannies to help pack some of Qiao Yiniang’s belongings. Send her to Dajue Temple this afternoon.”

The servants in the room exchanged glances one after another.

The Madam had not only kept her word and sent Qiao Yiniang to a temple, but had also persuaded the Marquis.

Each of them was filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

Luo Shiyiniang sighed and assented, then instructed Nanny Song to arrange the attendants.

Nanny Song’s expression turned hurried and flustered as she quickly dropped a curtsy to Luo Shiyiniang and hastened away.

Xu Lingyi also instructed Luo Shiyiniang: “The children will be coming to pay their respects shortly. Send someone capable to keep a proper watch over Qiao Yiniang, so she does not stir up further unrest.”

There was also the Grand Dowager’s quarters — she would need to be informed as well.

Luo Shiyiniang nodded and instructed Yanrong to go to Qiao Lianfang’s courtyard.

Wen Yiniang, Qin Yiniang, and Yang Yiniang came to pay their morning respects.

Luo Shiyiniang had them enter.

All three, with perfectly composed expressions, presented the copies of the Admonitions for Women they had written, yet not one of them mentioned the reason for the copying. Wen Yiniang, in particular, was just as she always was — all smiles and bright words, lavishing praise upon Luo Shiyiniang: “Is the pearl on Madam’s hairpin a southern pearl or an eastern pearl? If it is a southern pearl, I have never seen one so large. And if it is an eastern pearl, I have never seen one so lustrous. Every time I come to see Madam, I always learn something new…”

She said all this without a flicker of a blush or a falter in her heart, her expression sincere and her tone genuine, so that even those who knew it was flattery found it impossible to take offense.

“It was a gift from the Grand Dowager,” Luo Shiyiniang replied politely. “I am not entirely certain whether it is a southern pearl or an eastern pearl.”

“Then it must be a southern pearl!” Wen Yiniang said with a laugh. “Every item in the Grand Dowager’s possession is a rare and priceless treasure. It is simply that I have poor eyesight and cannot tell the difference…”

Just then, the children arrived.

Wen Yiniang stepped back a few paces and stood quietly to one side with Qin Yiniang and Yang Yiniang, speaking no more.

But her efforts had livened up the atmosphere in the room considerably, so that when the children entered, they sensed nothing amiss — they greeted everyone cheerfully and merrily, then went their separate ways: those going to class went to class, and those returning to their rooms to embroider went to embroider, just as on any ordinary day.

Yang Yiniang glanced at Wen Yiniang with great admiration.

A flash of surprise passed through the depths of Qin Yiniang’s eyes.

She was the last to leave, and she paused at the entrance to the covered corridor, gazing over toward Qiao Lianfang’s courtyard.

All around was quiet, with only the rustling of wind through the treetops.

She thought of the sharp, wretched cries she had heard in the middle of the night, and quickened her pace back to her room. There she instructed Cui’er to go to Wen Yiniang’s quarters to find out what was happening.

“Wen Yiniang’s gate is shut tight — no one is permitted in or out.”

Qin Yiniang was somewhat startled and sent Cui’er instead to Yang Yiniang’s quarters to have a look.

“Yang Yiniang’s gate is also shut tight,” Cui’er reported. “I went and knocked, and that Nanny Yang spoke to me from behind the door.”

Qin Yiniang nodded, dismissed Cui’er, and sat alone on the large daybed by the window, murmuring to herself: “Spreading word of the Marchioness of Jianning’s visit all throughout the courtyard — that was certainly the right thing to do… but then why is there no stir from her courtyard? Surely she cannot have thought things through overnight and decided to stay quietly in her room and copy the Admonitions for Women as the Madam instructed?”  She knitted her brows in troubled perplexity.

Qiao Lianfang was being held down on the daybed by two large-framed nannies, a white silk handkerchief stuffed into her mouth, her eyes stretched wide and blazing as she glared at Nanny Song, who was directing the rough-work nannies in packing up her belongings.

“Yiniang is going to Dajue Temple, not Ciyuan Temple. What is the point of bringing all this cosmetics, rouge, hairpins, and jewels?” Nanny Song instructed Xiuyuan, who stood to one side silently weeping, “Help your mistress put all of these away.”

Xiuyuan rushed forward in a panic and gathered Qiao Lianfang’s dressing case into her arms. She looked up, saw Qiao Lianfang with her hair disheveled and in a wretched state, and cried all the harder.

“And this embroidered short jacket with golden threads woven throughout,” Nanny Song said, inspecting the bundles to be taken along. “The brocade tabard — take those out. Bring along the plain spun-silk and Lushui silk garments instead.”

Several nannies hurried to repack.

Seeing that everyone was carrying out her instructions, Nanny Song gave a small nod of approval, then walked to the edge of the daybed and said quietly: “Qiao Yiniang, if you promise me you will stop screaming, I will still treat you with the respect due half a mistress of this house, take the handkerchief out of your mouth, and have them release you. You will also be more comfortable.”

The gaze Qiao Lianfang fixed on Nanny Song was filled with resentment, with not the slightest sign of submission.

Nanny Song could not help a wry smile. She thought for a moment, then said: “Qiao Yiniang, it was the Marquis himself who decided to send you to Dajue Temple.”

Qiao Lianfang’s expression shifted to one of cold contempt as she heard this.

Nanny Song felt that if she did not lay things out plainly, this one would simply refuse to accept it and would continue to make scenes, putting them all in a difficult position. She decided to be direct: “Qiao Yiniang, rather than spending all your energy on anger, why not think carefully. The Madam came from Yuhang — she has been in Yanjing for no more than two or three years. How would she know what kind of place Dajue Temple is?”

Qiao Lianfang heard this and gave a violent start. Disbelief was written all over her face, yet the light in her eyes faded like sand slipping through an hourglass, little by little draining away.

Dajue Temple was no ordinary monastery.

It was an imperial temple, not open to the general public for worship. Very few people knew of it. Although it was a sacred site dedicated to Guanyin, it had once been used to confine a former dowager consort and two consorts who had been demoted. Occasionally, noble households in Yanjing would send wayward daughters or sisters who had been sent home in disgrace to reside there — ostensibly for quiet recuperation, but in truth for penitential discipline. And it was known for the harshness of its austerities.

Nanny Song looked at her and gave a slow, gentle shake of her head. She gestured to the two nannies to help Qiao Lianfang sit up, then stepped forward herself and removed the handkerchief from Qiao Lianfang’s mouth.

Qiao Lianfang sat there with a vacant, dazed expression, neither cursing nor creating a scene.

Nanny Song instructed a junior maid to bring water, then had Xiuyuan tend to her mistress — comb her hair and wash her face — while she herself stood nearby and said softly: “Yiniang, things have come to this. There are eyes everywhere watching you. You would do far better to dress yourself neatly and properly and walk out the door with your head held high — at least you would preserve some dignity. Do not give others the satisfaction of laughing at you…”

But Qiao Lianfang suddenly seized Nanny Song’s hand: “The Marquis — does he truly intend to send me to Dajue Temple?”

Her voice was hoarse. The gaze she fixed on Nanny Song held a flicker of desperate hope, her tone threaded with doubt — she wanted Nanny Song to give her a denial.

But Nanny Song’s expression was solemn as she gave a nod: “It is true.”

Only then did tears glisten at the corners of Qiao Lianfang’s eyes.

—