Shiyiniang listened and reflected for a while, then consulted Xu Lingyi: “The ancestral hall is separated from us by several courtyards — even if there is chanting and noise, it would reach us only as a distant murmur. If Mother is truly uneasy, why not entrust Reverend Nun Jining to hold a few extra days of water-and-land memorial services at Ciyuan Temple?”

Xu Lingyi thought it over and said: “Let us hold a seven-day memorial service at home instead. The date is neither a double nor a round number.”

Shiyiniang understood his meaning.

Yuan Niang had passed away while senior members of the family were still living — by custom, her death anniversary could not be observed with great ceremony. Even if they asked Ciyuan Temple to hold a memorial service on her behalf, they could hold it no longer than seven days, and the offerings and banquet tables would be limited. If they wished for a more solemn observance, they would need to find a pretext. But this year marked the fifth anniversary of Yuan Niang’s passing — neither a double nor a round number — so there was no pretext to be found.

“As for Mother — I will ask the Marquis to speak with her,” Shiyiniang entreated Xu Lingyi. “Zhun Ge is older now, too — he can preside over the offerings in time.”

Xu Lingyi nodded. A few days later, Taohua — the maidservant stationed at the ancestral hall, younger sister of the late Wei Zi, who had once served as the Grand Dowager’s senior maidservant — came running to tell Hupo: “…It has been decided to hold a seven-day water-and-land memorial service at home.”

Shiyiniang was relieved. When Xu Sizhun came to pay his morning respects, she helped straighten his collar and quietly urged him: “Your mother’s death anniversary is coming, and I am unable to attend. Tell this to Master Zhao and ask him whether it would be appropriate to find the steward of the ancestral hall to instruct you in the rites of presiding over the offerings. If Master Zhao asks you to find the steward, do not make a fuss about it — come and tell me, and I will help you find someone.”

Xu Sizhun listened and nodded vigorously, then asked Shiyiniang: “Mother — are you not yet recovered?” His expression was one of deep concern.

Shiyiniang smiled and patted Xu Sizhun’s shoulder, saying softly: “I had calculated that I ought to be better by now, but somehow I am still feeling listless. I really am at a loss.” There was some helplessness in her tone.

Hupo also said: “My lady, don’t you think we should ask Imperial Physician Liu to come and have a look?”

“If he comes, it will only mean more medicine to take.” Shiyiniang shook her head, thinking of Fifth Yiniang far away in Yuhang. “…How I wish she were here. I’ve heard people say daughters take after their mothers — but I wonder whether it was like this when Yiniang was expecting me. Yet when I think of how Yiniang seemed when she was expecting Seventh Young Master, she seemed to have no reaction at all.”

Hupo smiled: “At that time the First Mistress was still alive. Even if Yiniang felt unwell, she probably wouldn’t have dared to show it.”

Shiyiniang fell into a slight stillness at this, and her curiosity grew stronger. She simply called on Hupo and the others to attend to brush and ink and wrote a letter to Yuhang.

At dinner time, word came from the palace: Fang Jie’er had given birth to a daughter.

This was the Emperor’s first grandchild.

Had it been an ordinary household, this would have been an occasion of great joy. But in the imperial family, the joy was inevitably somewhat dimmed.

“…If the Empress had borne a prince first, things might have been better,” Lady Zhou said to Shiyiniang in one of their private talks, her eyes a little red and swollen. “But as it was, she bore a most delicately lovely princess. Now the Crown Princess has also borne a daughter — the Emperor may be pleased, but only to a degree.”

Shiyiniang had Hupo wring out a cold cloth for Lady Zhou to press against her eyes. “All the more reason for you to put on a cheerful face at a time like this.”

Lady Zhou listened, and the rim of her eyes filled with moisture again. “How could I not know that? Only when I think of our Fang Jie — before she was married, everything went smoothly for her. Even if she caught smallpox or similar, it would be over in a few days and she’d be well again. And then all of a sudden she was chosen as an imperial consort, and since then she’s not had a single day of peace. Can it truly be as that old saying goes — ‘first sweetness, then bitterness’?”

“Who said that?” Shiyiniang laughed. “What life doesn’t have its share of setbacks…”

“It was Daoist Changchun who said it.” Lady Zhou sighed and cut off her words. “When she was small, she happened once to encounter Daoist Changchun, and the Daoist looked at her features and said it. He also said she had a destiny of ‘a hundred birds greeting the phoenix.’ I didn’t believe it then. But thinking on it now, there does seem to be some truth in it.”

Daoist Changchun again!

Shiyiniang’s brow furrowed very slightly, and she could only use Lady Zhou’s own words to console her. “‘A hundred birds greeting the phoenix’ — what sort of fate is that? Elder Sister surely understands it in her own heart. If that is so, then this too will surely pass with alarm but without real harm.”

The practice of fortune-telling and physiognomy was at times nothing more than a way of comforting oneself. It was because Fang Jie’er had fallen into such circumstances that Lady Zhou now recalled it.

“Even with such a destiny, one must be able to bear what it brings.” A shadow of melancholy passed across Lady Zhou’s brow. “There are things you don’t know. When the late Emperor chose our present Emperor to be Crown Prince, it was not only because the Emperor’s conduct and character had deeply won the late Emperor’s heart — it was also connected in no small part to the Empress having borne three legitimate sons for the Emperor…”

So that was the sore point for the Zhou family.

After seeing Lady Zhou off, Shiyiniang told Xu Lingyi.

Xu Lingyi laughed: “Lady Zhou actually told you all this? You are the Imperial Uncle’s wife, after all.”

Shiyiniang had not placed herself in that position and had not truly felt there was anything amiss in what Lady Zhou said. Now, thinking it over, she found it rather amusing. She laughed and said: “That is because I do not gossip about people, and I know what it is to ‘see nothing contrary to propriety, and say nothing contrary to propriety.'”

Xu Lingyi looked at her with amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh!”

Here she was, proclaiming herself above gossip — while having just recounted every word Lady Zhou had spoken to Xu Lingyi.

Shiyiniang’s face went crimson, and in an instant an unusual expression crossed her features.

Could it be that somewhere in her subconscious there lived a sense of safety — that Xu Lingyi was someone she could trust?

The thought flickered and was gone. She had already been gathered entirely into Xu Lingyi’s embrace.

“Between husband and wife, things should be discussed and decided together.” He pressed his lips to her earlobe. “It must be this way from now on. Understood?”

The gentle voice held a faint undercurrent of commanding authority, and Shiyiniang’s heart grew all the more turbulent.

When the expected response was not forthcoming, the arms encircling the slight figure tightened, and the soft earlobe held between his teeth was gently bitten. Half compulsion, half coaxing, he whispered: “Did you hear me?”

Shiyiniang felt her face burning hot. She pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“Did you hear me!” With that, he bit down once more on her slender neck — the sensation soft and tingling, making her laugh and squirm with delight. Hearing her laugh, he followed the sound and kissed his way down, parting the folds of her collar. Shiyiniang blushed scarlet with embarrassment, called out “My lord” in a soft reproach, and he gave a low hum in response, bowing his head and pressing his mouth — through the pale yellow belly band embroidered with grass-green plum blossoms — against the warm flush above her heart…

Just as the two of them were playfully engrossed, they heard Hupo call from beyond the door curtain: “My lady” — followed by the announcement that Qiu Yu had come to report.

Qiu Yu was the one Hupo had sent to Ciyuan Temple to inquire about the peace talisman.

Shiyiniang quickly straightened her collar and could not help giving Xu Lingyi a glare.

Xu Lingyi saw her face rosy as summer clouds, her almond eyes bright with reflected light as they arced and flew sideways toward him — unspeakably graceful and alluring. His heart stirred, and he kissed her cheek before finally turning and stepping aside to withdraw.

Shiyiniang picked up the plain cooled water left nearby for rinsing her mouth and drank it all down, feeling the heat in her face finally begin to ease. Only then did she call Qiu Yu in to make her report.

“Reverend Nun Jining says that Qin Yiniang, knowing that my lady is with child, sought the peace talisman with a sincere and devoted heart. Reverend Jining personally added a consecration to the talisman and used cinnabar to draw a tiny lotus blossom in each corner. It does not necessarily need to be hung at the door — placing it in a sachet, tucking it beneath the pillow, or offering it before the bodhisattva are all equally good.”

As Qiu Yu spoke, Hupo had already gone to fetch the talisman. The corners were indeed each marked with a small lotus blossom painted in cinnabar.

The talisman itself was without issue — this Shiyiniang had expected. What she had not expected was the careful deliberateness of Reverend Nun Jining.

“Why did Qin Yiniang want my lady to hang it at the door?” Hupo held the talisman and examined it carefully front and back after Qiu Yu was dismissed.

“She wanted to express her good intentions, I suppose,” Shiyiniang said, unconcerned. “Otherwise, a tiny peace talisman tucked away beneath a pillow — who would ever know it was she who sought it?” She smiled and instructed Hupo: “Since Reverend Nun Jining has said it was sought with sincerity, take it to the Grand Dowager’s Buddhist shrine and offer it there.”

Hupo smiled and went off to do so.

Suddenly a decree arrived: the Crown Princess summoned Shiyiniang to the palace.

Shiyiniang was startled.

One had just completed the third-day bathing ceremony for her newborn; the other was only a few months along with her pregnancy — neither was the best time for receiving visitors.

“Don’t worry,” Xu Lingyi said, patting Shiyiniang’s hand. “I will send word to the palace. Unless you encounter the Emperor himself, you need not bow to anyone else.”

“What if I do encounter the Emperor?” Shiyiniang’s hand instinctively moved to cover her abdomen.

“You will not encounter the Emperor,” Xu Lingyi said with a sly smile. “I have already sent a card to the Imperial Household Bureau saying I need to see the Emperor.”

Only then did Shiyiniang calm down and dress in full formal attire, thinking thankfully that at least it was spring — in summer she would have been half roasted alive.

Fang Jie’er and the Crown Prince resided in the Xie Fang Zhai within the Northern Five Residences. A palace eunuch led her in through the Gate of Divine Prowess, past the Gate of Shunzhen, the Gate of Chengguang, and the Fubi Pavilion to the Xie Fang Zhai. Along the way she encountered only low-ranking eunuchs and palace women — not only was no obeisance necessary, there was not even a need to exchange words.

The Xie Fang Zhai was not large — oriented north-south, with one main hall and two side chambers. The eunuchs and palace women standing outside the hall each bore expressions of solemn composure. The interior was kept clean and neat, fresh seasonal flowers arranged within. Had she not known in advance, one would never have guessed this was the place where Fang Jie’er was in confinement.

Seeing that Shiyiniang was about to bow, Fang Jie’er, who was resting against a pillow bolster at the head of the bed, quickly had the female official at her side support Shiyiniang: “The Marchioness of Yongping is with child at this time.”

The female official, seeing Shiyiniang’s waist still slender as a willow branch without any sign of fullness, knew the months were still early, and did not dare be careless. She supported Shiyiniang before she could complete her curtsy.

“Please do not stand on ceremony with me, my lady.” Fang Jie’er had the palace eunuchs place the embroidered stool granted to Shiyiniang right beside her bed, then told the attendants: “All of you withdraw. I have something to say to the Marchioness of Yongping.”

Eunuchs and palace women alike answered “Yes,” and filed out one by one. Then Fang Jie’er’s tears fell like raindrops.

“Aunt, I asked you here only because I wanted someone to talk to.”

Shiyiniang quickly drew out a handkerchief and passed it to her: “Then don’t cry. You are still in confinement.”

Fang Jie’er nodded, taking the handkerchief and dabbing at the corners of her eyes: “I know. But I simply can’t hold it back.”

“Then cry it all out properly!” Shiyiniang tucked in Fang Jie’er’s coverlet. “Only remember: cry it out well this once, and never cry again after this.”

Fang Jie’er was momentarily taken aback. Then her eyes reddened and she threw herself into Shiyiniang’s arms, pressing her face against her shoulder and weeping quietly.

Shiyiniang’s body went slightly rigid.

In two lifetimes, this was the first time anyone had leaned upon her with such intimacy and trust.

After a long while, her body gradually softened. Her hand moved gently, patting Fang Jie’er’s back — comforting her the way one soothes a child.