Several betrothals, clearly laid out — who the betrothed families were, described in detail — along with the suggestion that Shi’yiniang send someone to Huzhou to investigate. Shi’yiniang thought of Fang Shi’s marrying beneath her station, thought of the Fang family’s readiness to comply with everything from the beginning… It seemed as though all of it now had a plausible explanation. She believed this was not groundless rumor.

But why would Jiang Jinkui do such a thing?

If there were some special motive behind it, she could not for the life of her see what conflict of interest could exist between Fang Shi and Jiang Jinkui. If it were out of genuine goodwill and a desire to warn her, the two of them didn’t seem to share that kind of closeness. Or perhaps she simply had nothing better to do, and wanted to gossip?

Shi’yiniang turned this over in her mind and once again studied Jiang Jinkui carefully.

Jiang Jinkui had her brows lightly knitted, her eyelids lowered, and said haltingly: “If your household knew about this, you certainly would never have entered into a marriage alliance with the Fang family. But I really am not deceiving you.” She then bent her knees in a curtsey. “I must be going,” she said, her voice sounding quite despondent, and she walked past Shi’yiniang with drooping shoulders.

In a flash of sudden clarity, Shi’yiniang thought she understood Jiang Jinkui.

She had come far from home to marry into a princess’s household on very advantageous terms — only to find a mother-in-law of noble rank and deft social maneuvering on every side, a husband of dark and crafty temperament, arrogant and domineering, with a particular predilection that was widely known and a source of shame — she existed in that household like an ill-fitting ornament, unable to find her place, living a life that was both degrading and suffocating, utterly lonely. In the dead stillness of such a life, she had suddenly come across a piece of gossip that anyone who heard it would find irresistible… and it had taken root and spread through her heart like wild grass. How could she have held it in?

“I believe you are not deceiving me.” Shi’yiniang caught Jiang Jinkui by the sleeve. “Does anyone else know about this?” Her voice was slightly low and carried a note of gravity.

Jiang Jinkui turned around, her face suddenly brightening, and she said hurriedly: “Besides me, there shouldn’t be — that is, no one in Yanjing knows yet. Even in Huzhou, few people are aware. If I hadn’t asked about it, my mother wouldn’t have told me… Neither of us is the kind to talk loosely…”

From her somewhat disorganized account, Shi’yiniang had already gathered a great deal of information.

First, Jiang Jinkui had not known about this for long, and had come across it by chance — she had not shared it with anyone else. Second, the rumor of Fang Shi bringing misfortune to her husbands had only circulated among a small circle of relatives and had not been spread widely — otherwise, the Fang family would never have dared to arrange their daughter’s marriage with such fanfare.

“Thank you for telling me this.” Shi’yiniang met Jiang Jinkui’s eyes with an open, candid gaze. “I ask that you keep this secret on our family’s behalf…”

Before Shi’yiniang had even finished speaking, Jiang Jinkui was already nodding repeatedly: “You can set your mind at ease. I know the gravity of the situation — I haven’t told anyone.” She then added for emphasis: “Not even the Princess.” And she went on: “You should still find a way to resolve this matter quickly. Paper cannot wrap fire forever. There are many officials from Jiangnan serving in Yanjing, and this matter will sooner or later get out. When it does, people will certainly enjoy watching your family’s predicament.” With that, she added hastily: “The Princess has already entered the main hall — I can’t talk with you much longer. If you have anything you need to ask me, just send a calling card. Although my husband has something of a quarrel with Maoguo Ducal House, he doesn’t regard the Ducal House as anything worth taking seriously. He holds the Marquis in high regard, however. If he knows it is you who has invited me, he will certainly allow me to go — and once my husband has said something, the Princess dares not contradict it.” As she spoke, she bent her knees and curtsied to Shi’yiniang again, said once more “I must be going,” rose and walked quickly toward the main hall.

Shi’yiniang naturally didn’t put any stock in things like “bringing misfortune to husbands.” Besides, from the time Xu Siqin and Fang Shi were betrothed to the time they married had been well over a year — if Fang Shi truly brought her husbands ill fortune, how could Xu Siqin still be alive and lively as he was today?

What she didn’t know was whether Third Madam was aware of this matter.

If she was, the situation was manageable — everyone could put their heads together and find a way to smooth it over.

If she wasn’t…

She thought of the triumphant, self-congratulatory expression Third Madam had worn when taking in her eldest son’s bride, and couldn’t help feeling a headache coming on.

What kind of scene the third branch would make then was truly anyone’s guess.

But this was also not the right occasion to be mulling over these things.

Shi’yiniang quickly collected her thoughts and walked with quick steps toward the main hall.

Zhou Furen seized a moment to ask her quietly: “What did the Jiang woman want with you?” Without waiting for Shi’yiniang’s answer, she went on: “Just looking at her makes me anxious. Her husband is already what he is, and yet she still walks around with that timid little look, as if she’s afraid of treading on an ant — it makes people think even less of her. No wonder Princess Changning is furious at her for not making something of herself and shakes her head every time she’s mentioned.”

The result was a vicious cycle — the more self-deprecating she became, the more timid; the more timid, the more she stumbled and had no bearing about her; the more her husband and mother-in-law criticized her; the more self-deprecating she then became…

“It was nothing important.” Shi’yiniang inwardly heaved a quiet sigh, and said vaguely: “She said we’d both come to Yanjing from Jiangnan as brides and that we ought to visit each other more often when we have time.”

“My goodness!” Zhou Furen marveled. “When did she have a change of heart?” Before the words were out of her mouth, laughter rang out from Crown Princess Fang Jie’er’s side of the room.

The two of them dropped the topic and gathered around.

When she returned home, Shi’yiniang kept turning this matter over in her mind.

It felt like a ticking time bomb — leaving her with a creeping unease.

Xu Lingyi assumed she was worrying about what had happened during the palace visit, and sat up, wrapping a robe around himself, to speak with her: “…The Empress is a perceptive woman. She won’t take the Elder Princess’s words to heart. Don’t worry. In my view, this is actually fine. Going forward, the palace won’t be casually summoning Jin Ge’er inside, and Jin Ge’er will be spared the discomfort of having to behave himself. When he’s a little older, and has learned to rein in his temper, going to pay his respects to His Majesty and the Empress then will be just the same.”

There were matters that had no clear resolution yet, and Shi’yiniang didn’t want to speak to Xu Lingyi about them too early.

“It is your wife who was worrying needlessly,” she said, dismissing the topic with a placating smile. “I’ve disturbed the Marquis’s rest for nothing. You still need to take Zhun Ge’er to Elder Grand Secretary Chen’s household first thing tomorrow morning!”

On that topic, it was Xu Lingyi’s turn to feel a measure of vexation.

“Do you think we ought to find Zhun Ge’er a better manservant?” he pondered. “I see that none of the people around him have any initiative of their own.”

“Such people are not easy to find.” These days Xu Sizhun often accompanied Xu Lingyi out to social engagements, and compared to before, his social grace had improved considerably — yet he showed no real enthusiasm for it. From Xu Lingyi’s tone, he seemed quite passive in his interactions. He was all right with people his own age or younger, but when he encountered elders with imposing bearing, he would show signs of timidity. Xu Lingyi was quite displeased with this and was bringing him along to social occasions with increasing frequency. Shi’yiniang also felt that Xu Sizhun needed more opportunities to practice, and was fairly supportive of Xu Lingyi bringing him along to call on senior court officials or to attend banquets. She thought of how Linbo and Zhaoying, given their age, would be transferred to the outer quarters to serve before long, and she suggested: “Why not choose one from Linbo and Zhaoying and place him by Zhun Ge’er’s side? What do you think?”

Xu Lingyi thought it over and said carefully: “These two have been by my side since they were seven or eight years old, so their conduct and manner are naturally very proper. However, things are currently short-handed over in Fujian, and these two will be heading to Guangdong before long…” He was clearly reluctant, after all, for he had placed such high expectations on his heir — though he declined, his tone carried a trace of hesitation.

At that, Shi’yiniang felt a start and sat up: “My lord, is it the Qu family…”

Xu Lingyi, seeing that she was wearing only her underclothes, took off the robe he had draped around himself and wrapped it over her shoulders, saying quietly: “Men may plan, but Heaven decides.”

He had made himself very clear.

Shi’yiniang gave a faint nod, and couldn’t help but clasp Xu Lingyi’s hand: “My lord, we will surely achieve what we have set our hearts on.”

Xu Lingyi smiled and stroked her hair: “Sleep now. Jin Ge’er has been getting more and more into mischief these days. If you feel it’s too much, just let the maids and matrons play with him. Don’t force yourself. Getting ill would only make things more difficult.”

Shi’yiniang murmured her assent and lay down, continuing to chat idly with Xu Lingyi: “Since Linbo and Zhaoying will no longer be by your side in the future, when will you choose new personal attendants? Why not choose one for Zhun Ge’er while you’re at it? He is the heir — a little special treatment would also help establish his authority…”

Xu Lingyi responded with sounds of agreement, and the two drifted off to sleep little by little, talking of small household matters.

The next morning, when Xu Siyu came to pay his respects, Shi’yiniang asked him: “How is the matter Teacher Jiang entrusted to you coming along?”

Xu Siyu smiled and said: “Thanks to Uncle-in-law Fang’s assistance, we’re only waiting for the palace examination papers to come out.”

Shi’yiniang smiled and said: “Once you’ve both finished with that, invite Uncle-in-law Fang to come and have a meal here. Consider it our way of expressing our gratitude.”

Xu Siyu respectfully said “Yes.”

From outside came the sound of Jin Ge’er crying at the top of his lungs.

The two of them were startled and rushed out of the inner chamber.

They found Jin Ge’er standing alone in the middle of the main room, crying until his face was red, wailing in the direction of the hanging door curtain. The few little maids attending him stood around him but didn’t dare approach, while Nanny Gu had crouched down to coax him and had received a slap on the face for her trouble.

Shi’yiniang had never seen Jin Ge’er this furious. She quickly crouched down and gathered Jin Ge’er into her arms, just about to ask Nanny Gu what had happened, when she heard Xu Siyu sharply reprimand Nanny Gu at great volume: “What kind of wet nurse are you? How could you let the Sixth Young Master cry like this?” His voice was harsher than it had ever been — even Shi’yiniang herself looked at Xu Siyu in some surprise.

For a moment, the whole room fell quiet. Only Jin Ge’er’s crying sounded on, louder than before — quite earth-shaking and sky-rattling in its intensity.

Then they saw the door curtain part, and Xu Lingyi walked in.

“What’s going on?”

He wore a mutton-fat jade hairpin, dressed in a plain dark crow-blue cut silk chang pao, his face stern, his hands clasped behind his back — a bone-chilling, commanding air pressing down on the brows and lashes of all present, so that every maid and matron serving in the room trembled visibly.

Xu Sizhun, who had followed behind him, also sensed his father’s displeasure and stood uncertainly at the doorway, not knowing what to do.

Shi’yiniang quickly rose, holding Jin Ge’er: “It’s just a child throwing a tantrum. I’ll coax him and it’ll be fine. My lord, please do go quickly so as not to delay your business.”

Jin Ge’er was only a little over a year old, yet his frame was like that of a two-year-old child. Shi’yiniang had weaned him from nursing, and supplemented his diet with chicken, duck, fish, and a variety of vegetables and fruits — he had grown sturdy and rosy-cheeked, and was already becoming rather hard for her to carry.

As she spoke, she went and sat on the large brick bed by the window.

Jin Ge’er’s cries gradually grew softer and he buried his head, sobbing and hiccupping, on Shi’yiniang’s shoulder.

Xu Lingyi gave a nod and turned to walk away.

Jin Ge’er burst into loud cries again.

All while crying, he twisted in his arms and shouted: “I want Father, I want Father!”

Four words, perfectly clear.

Everyone in the room was stunned.

Shi’yiniang most of all — her eyes immediately brimmed with tears. She put the child she was holding down on the brick bed and looked at him intently: “Jin Ge’er, what did you say?” Her expression was one of overwhelming agitation.

Jin Ge’er didn’t even glance at Shi’yiniang, and cried his heart out with his throat wide open, choking and sobbing “I want Father, I want Father…”

Xu Lingyi was both overjoyed and astonished. In two steps he covered the distance and scooped Jin Ge’er into his arms: “All right, all right, all right. Don’t cry anymore!”

—