No wonder that when the witchcraft affair had broken out, Xu Lingyi hadn’t asked a single question — he had simply dealt with everyone involved on the spot. If one started investigating, it would be like a row of dominoes: they would all come tumbling down. And this now implicated Wen Yiniang as well.

“Fourth Madam,” Yi Yiniang said, growing louder with every word for fear that Shiyiniang would not believe her, “Qin Yiniang has harboured treacherous intentions for years, plotting and scheming all along. All these years, her one consuming obsession has been how to get the Second Young Master — her own son — installed as the heir apparent. Inviting the Zhu Daopo, making the straw effigy — every last bit of it was her doing alone. I truly had no part in any of it; I am just as much a victim.” With that, she fell to her knees with a thud. “Fourth Madam, I have no old grudge nor new quarrel with you. What possible benefit could I gain from harming the Fourth Young Master? But Qin Yiniang — that is another matter entirely. If something were to befall the Fourth Young Master, it would have nothing to do with you directly, yet as his stepmother, you would inevitably bear the blame of failing in your supervision. One moment you are sitting quietly in your own rooms, and then a calamity like this falls from the sky without warning. Even a woman of the broadest heart would be driven to fury by such a monstrous injustice. Under ordinary circumstances, you might take to your bed for two or three days, take some medicine to calm your energy, speak your heart to your closest maidservants, and gradually the matter would pass. But as things stand, you are with child, and at a time when your body is unwell and the fetus has not yet settled firmly. You yourself might endure this grievance — but can the Sixth Young Master still unborn in your womb endure it? If the child in your belly were to grow agitated because of this…” She paused abruptly and began kowtowing rapidly, like a pestle pounding garlic. “Fourth Madam, from beginning to end, it is only that Qin Yiniang who has benefited from all of this. You must open your eyes wide and see it clearly for what it is. Do not let those who love you grieve and those who hate you rejoice, and hand such a windfall to wicked people for nothing!”

Hupo, standing to one side and listening, felt her heart hammering wildly.

Yi Yiniang’s words carried weight.

Everyone knew the Fourth Young Master was frail in body — being tossed up in the air twice by the Fifth Master was enough to make him ill for days. If he were to die of fright, or if his mind became so disordered that he could no longer fulfill the role of heir apparent, Shiyiniang would likely find it difficult to escape censure for negligence. And if Shiyiniang were driven to such fury and distress that she miscarried…

Thinking of all this, she suddenly recalled that in recent days Qin Yiniang had been making excuses, time and again, to ask about Shiyiniang’s condition.

Could it be that Qin Yiniang had been plotting all of this from as early as that?

Hupo gazed at Shiyiniang with deep anxiety.

“Yi Yiniang, please rise,” Shiyiniang said, her expression somewhat grave. “I understand what you mean. I will speak to the Marquis about this matter. If there is nothing else, I will take my leave now. The Fourth Young Master has been resting for some time, and I must go back to attend to him.” Having said this, she exchanged a glance with Hupo and turned to leave the room.

“Fourth Madam, please hear me out…” Yi Yiniang’s resentful voice chased close behind her, but Shiyiniang had already drawn near to the coarse-duty matron who was hastening to meet her and murmured, “Do not let Yi Yiniang speak out of turn.” Then she walked briskly out of the courtyard with Hupo at her side.

The sun had already risen, its warmth falling on the camphor trees — thick as a bowl’s mouth — beside the rear courtyard steps. The camphor trees’ distinctive fragrance, baked by the heat, grew even richer and more pungent.

Shiyiniang stopped on the steps. Dappled sunlight filtered through the gaps between the camphor leaves and fell quietly upon her moon-white skirts — clean and neat, the very air carrying a few traces of cool freshness.

Hupo, following behind her, did not know why she had paused here. She rose on her tiptoes and followed Shiyiniang’s gaze — which fell directly upon a trailing vine of green trumpet creeper climbing up the whitewashed wall.

Behind that whitewashed wall lived Wen Yiniang.

“Madam,” Hupo ventured, guessing at what was on Shiyiniang’s mind, “do you think we ought to go and sit a while with Wen Yiniang? Come to think of it, you haven’t yet given your gift for Qiu Hong’s trousseau. Since there’s no better day than today, why not go now?”

Shiyiniang considered for a moment, then said, “Go and open my dressing case and take out that pair of solid-gold clove-flower hairpins. Wrap them in a silk pouch — that can be our gift for Qiu Hong’s trousseau.”

Hupo assented and trotted off to the main room.

A light breeze stirred. The entire east courtyard lay utterly still.

The gate to Qin Yiniang’s courtyard was shut fast. The gates to Qiao Yiniang’s and Yang Shi’s courtyards stood half-open. Two young maidservants, too young yet to put their hair up, were playing a beanbag game beneath the great tree between the two courtyards. It seemed they heard something, for one of the little maids suddenly leapt to her feet, said a few hasty words to the other, and vanished in a flash into Yang Shi’s courtyard — the gate creaking shut behind her. The other maid slowly got to her feet and trudged dejectedly into Qiao Yiniang’s courtyard.

Shiyiniang smiled faintly.

Hupo came hurrying back. “Madam, the things are ready!” She held out the silk pouch for Shiyiniang to inspect.

Shiyiniang did not open it; she simply nodded and went with Hupo to Wen Yiniang’s courtyard.

Wen Yiniang was in the middle of taking inventory of Qiu Hong’s dowry. Things lay everywhere — on the table, on the chairs, on the tea table.

“Let us sit in the inner room,” Shiyiniang said with a smile, and moved through to the inner chamber.

The inner room was little better — along the east side of the large kang beneath the window, more than a dozen bolts of silk, gauze, and brocade were stacked in a neat row.

Wen Yiniang quickly ushered Shiyiniang to the west end of the kang, pushed the fabric further toward the wall, and half-sat on the east end herself.

“Is there something you wished to speak with me about, Madam?” She smiled as she took the teacup from Dong Hong’s hands and placed it respectfully before Shiyiniang.

“There has been so much happening these past few days,” Shiyiniang said with a smile, “that I have not been in the frame of mind to come and sit with you.” She gestured to Hupo to hand over the trousseau gift.

Wen Yiniang thanked her again and again, and called Qiu Hong out to kowtow three times to Shiyiniang.

Shiyiniang accepted the courtesy with a smile and picked up her teacup to sip slowly.

Wen Yiniang was a perceptive woman. She exchanged a glance with the servants and dismissed everyone from the room.

Shiyiniang then asked in a low voice: “I have heard that when you first arrived as a new bride, you were lodged in the west wing of the rear courtyard of the Marquis’s former residence, sharing the same courtyard with Qin Yiniang and Tong Yiniang?”

The smile on Wen Yiniang’s face softened slightly, and she sighed inwardly.

Some things, no matter how one tried to escape them, could not be escaped.

But perhaps this was for the best.

Rather than carrying all this weight in her heart year after year, it would be better to tell Shiyiniang, let Shiyiniang investigate the matter from back then thoroughly, and give herself some peace of mind to sleep at night.

She nodded. “My family had never anticipated that I would become a concubine in the Marquis’s household. The dowry they had originally prepared was now unsuitable, and though there were some maidservants and matrons who had attended me for years that I was loath to part with — and since I was being married from the south to the north, where customs and ways of life were quite different — my family spoke with the Senior Madam, and the Senior Madam agreed to let me bring the servants I was accustomed to. She also arranged additional maidservants and matrons for me according to household custom. Since I had more attendants, I was given the west wing room to myself. Tong Yiniang and Qin Yiniang were assigned two third-rank maidservants, two coarse-duty matrons, and since their staff was small, they shared the east wing room.”

According to custom, a concubine’s household should include one third-rank maidservant, two junior maids, and two matrons…

“Why were Tong Yiniang and Qin Yiniang not given their proper complement of staff according to custom?” Shiyiniang set down her teacup.

The faint sound of porcelain on porcelain rang out, clear and crisp.

“At the time, the household was not very settled — day after day, people kept leaving. The Senior Madam was ill, the Third Madam was with child, both requiring attendants. The Second Madam was occupied with caring for the Senior Madam and had taken over management of the outer courtyard, and the late Fourth Madam had just taken charge of the inner household affairs — it was inevitable that some things would be overlooked at first, so those within had to make do. Several newly arrived servants were transferred from the outer courtyard to attend Tong Yiniang and Qin Yiniang. Fearing these newcomers did not yet know the household rules, the late Fourth Madam had specifically sent one of the matrons who had served at her own side to go over and assist.”

Wen Yiniang’s gaze was clear and her manner open — utterly unlike her usual manner, veiled behind laughter and a few degrees of distance and wariness.

Shiyiniang knew she was speaking from the heart, and did not dance around the matter with her. She said frankly: “Though I only met my elder sister a few times, I always felt she was a sharp and capable woman of keen intelligence. Common sense alone would suggest that even in ordinary times — let alone during the stormy days the marquis’s household was then passing through — a concubine who was with child was in a delicate period and should have been carefully looked after. How could she have been made to stand in attendance and observe the daily rituals? I would like to know — what exactly did these rituals entail?”

“Standing in attendance before the late Fourth Madam amounted to nothing more than morning and evening salutations, laying the table and setting the chopsticks, serving soup and presenting dishes, and needlework and embroidery,” Wen Yiniang replied. “But I was newly arrived and accustomed to being the pampered eldest daughter at home. I could not adjust all at once. And since I had not been in the household long before I was with child, and the pregnancy sat badly with me, I only served the late Fourth Madam for a few days. It was different for Tong Yiniang and Qin Yiniang — they had been trained to it since childhood. If you told them to rest, they would not know what to do with themselves. Seeing how the late Fourth Madam toiled day and night, and feeling that their own health was reasonably sound, they went to serve her in her rooms. At night, it was fully entrusted to Tao Mama.” She paused briefly, then added, “After the Marquis departed, he entrusted the affairs of the outer courtyard to Steward Bai. But at the time, word outside was that the Yongping Marquis household was heading for ruin. Several of the managers in the outer courtyard, seeing that the true masters of the Xu family were away and only women and children remained, gradually began to grow restless. Each man made his own little domain impenetrable, hoping that when the Xu family fell he could roll up his share and walk away. Steward Bai had only recently been promoted to the head steward position, and among these unruly managers were several who had served under the old Marquis before — so Steward Bai gradually found it difficult to hold them in line. The Senior Madam had no choice but to drag herself out of her sickbed to manage affairs. The Second Madam, who was attending on the Senior Madam, could do arithmetic, and when the Senior Madam lacked the energy she would occasionally help tally small accounts. Later, as the Senior Madam’s illness grew more severe, some of the outer courtyard matters were passed into the hands of the Second Madam and Steward Bai.”

“When the management matrons of the inner courtyard saw what was happening in the outer courtyard, several of the senior ones also began to harbour improper thoughts. One moment they would claim the incense sticks had run out and more were needed; the next they would say something had broken and needed to be purchased. They clamoured for money every day yet produced no accounts. Others among them had formerly been trusted by the Second Madam — suddenly having a new mistress, whose manner was entirely different, they wondered whether this position would last and resolved to be monks for the day so long as the bell was rung; they dragged their feet, procrastinated. Still others stood watching from the sidelines: whatever task they were given, they sought no merit but only aimed to avoid blame, slow and dawdling in everything. The late Fourth Madam suppressed one problem only for another to surface; her ten fingers were never enough. As time wore on, she could not help but grow anxious. She thought: when all this was under the Second Madam’s hand, the household ran smoothly in every regard — so why, now that it was in her own hands, did nothing move? She told no one, afraid of being laughed at. She steeled herself and fought the management matrons one by one, and when she lay down at night she was too exhausted even to speak. She went less and less to the Senior Madam’s side. She no longer had the energy to manage the concubines’ quarters — everything there was fully entrusted to Tao Mama.”

Shiyiniang was somewhat taken aback.

For no clear reason, she thought of the First Madam.

“And how did Tao Mama treat you all?”

* * *