With Jin Ge’er gone, Shi’er Niang suddenly felt at a loss, and all at once became listless. Xu Sizhun invited a goldsmith into the household to make jewelry, and she only went along for the fun of it, having two plain gold bracelets with auspicious cloud patterns made for herself. Ying Niang was a new bride; her dowry jewelry was not only new but fashionable in the Suzhou style. Even so, Shi’er Niang used her own private funds to have two plain gold rings and two pairs of plain gold earrings made for her. When the day came to drink the wedding wine, she brought Jiang Shi and Ying Niang along.
Jiang Shi was familiar with everyone by now and chatted and smiled through the occasion with great ease. Ying Niang was attending such an event for the first time, holding Shi’er Niang’s arm lightly and keeping close behind her. She was nervous at the start, but after meeting a few people she steadied herself. By the time Shi’er Niang was invited by the former Madam Lin — now Lady Weibei — into a seat in the east wing of the main courtyard, Ying Niang was at her side helping to pour and pass tea.
Huang Third Mistress glanced toward the window, where Jiang Shi could be seen talking with the Marquis Zhongqin heir’s wife and the eldest young mistress of the Tang family, and laughingly pointed this out to Shi’er Niang: “Does it not remind you of us, back in our day?”
Everyone in the room followed her gesture to look.
The Marquis Zhongqin heir’s wife wore a plain celadon embroidered silk jacket and a pearl head ornament, altogether effortlessly refined and understated.
“You are not whom I am looking at.” Tang Fourth Madam smiled. “To me, she is more like the Fourth Madam of the Xu family in her younger days.”
Shi’er Niang smiled faintly.
Huang Third Mistress sighed with feeling: “Times change. Those of us who once stood beneath the eaves to speak — today we are all sitting inside.”
Gan Madam laughed heartily: “I never stood beneath any eaves! Do not go lumping your story in with mine.”
The room filled with laughter and cheer.
When Shi’er Niang arrived home, Xu Lingyi was reclining against the head of the bed reading a letter.
“From Jin Ge’er.” He held up the paper and shook it. Shi’er Niang had already sat down on the edge of the bed without needing to be told. “What does it say?” She snatched the letter away eagerly.
Xu Lingyi smiled. Shi’er Niang had no thought for anything else, her eyes sweeping rapidly down the page.
The letter had been sent from Xuantong; it was brief, but gave a clear account of the food, lodging, and travel along the way.
Knowing Jin Ge’er had arrived safely, Shi’er Niang’s heart settled somewhat. Even so, she read it through once more before putting it down.
“Do not worry.” Xu Lingyi got up and put his arm around Shi’er Niang. “Jin Ge’er is doing very well. In another ten days or so he will be at Jiayuguan!”
Shi’er Niang nodded.
Ten or so days later, another letter arrived from Jin Ge’er. He described in great detail how he had gone to call on the Jiayuguan commander upon arrival, what the commander of Jiayuguan had said, where he was living, how large the place was, and which garrison he had been assigned to — leaving out nothing, however small.
Now that he had settled in, Shi’er Niang wrote him a letter and sent word to Bin Ju that all was well.
A few days later, Jin Ge’er not only wrote back but also had someone bring a set of a foreign people’s clothes and some dried grapes — the clothes, he said, were a birthday present for Shi’er Niang; the dried grapes were for everyone to enjoy during the Dragon Boat Festival.
Shi’er Niang was very pleased. She tried on the foreign-style clothing privately and showed it to Xu Lingyi and Ying Niang, then packed the dried grapes into handsome paper boxes and sent some to every household. Gan Grand Dowager sent back a pair of shoes and socks; Cao E had a set of clothes made — “…there is someone going to Jiayuguan; bring these along.” Shi’er Niang wrote to Jin Ge’er with relish and enthusiasm, telling him before the Dragon Boat Festival how the family planned to celebrate, and after the festival, how the family had celebrated. One letter every five days, rain or shine, sent off to Jiayuguan without fail regardless of whether Jin Ge’er wrote back.
Jin Ge’er wrote back once every ten days. At first he merely wrote brief reports that all was well. As time passed, he began to tell Shi’er Niang things about his training or the garrison.
In mid-sixth month, Ying Niang was found to be with child.
The whole household was overjoyed. And at this very time, Luo Zhensheng, having proven himself a capable administrator, was promoted to Prefect of Mian Yang Prefecture.
“…Though it floods frequently and is quite impoverished, it is at least a prefect’s post at the fifth rank.” Xu Lingyi smiled. “As long as he makes no serious errors, another few years will see him transferred to a wealthier prefecture, and a promotion to Deputy Commissioner or Commissioner of a provincial administration is only a matter of time.”
Shi’er Niang was naturally happy for Luo Zhensheng.
People in the household looked at Ying Niang with new eyes. Ying Niang herself appeared quite unruffled by both honor and disgrace. Each day she rose early and went to pay her morning respects to Shi’er Niang, then spent her time in the rear garden hothouse tending to the flowers and plants with Ji Ting’s wife. When Shi’er Niang took her afternoon rest, Ying Niang would come and keep her company — talking, doing needlework, or strolling about with her — and in the evenings she stayed to share supper with Shi’er Niang, after which they went together to pay their evening respects to the Grand Dowager, and Ying Niang would see Shi’er Niang back to her room before returning to her own quarters.
Shi’er Niang had considered relieving Ying Niang of the morning and evening visits, but seeing Xu Sijie accompany Ying Niang each morning and escort her back each evening, she swallowed those words.
Jin Ge’er, learning that he was about to become an uncle again, sent a fine piece of Hetian jade carved with an auspicious pattern of “may all matters go well,” and in his letter guessed at whether it would be a niece or a nephew, suggesting names for a girl and for a boy alike.
Shi’er Niang saw that between every line of the letter there was a lightness that told her he had settled past his initial adjustment period, and her heart was much eased. She and Ying Niang had a laugh at his expense together, then sent him his winter clothes.
Yet this happy atmosphere did not last long. In the tenth month, several small-scale skirmishes broke out in succession in the Jiayuguan area. Jin Ge’er made no mention of it in his letters, but because he was stationed at Jiayuguan, everyone paid special attention to news from Jiayuguan. The moment the accounts office received word, Shi’er Niang knew.
She was consumed with anxiety: “They say there were both victories and defeats — and more defeats than victories at that!”
“It is nothing, nothing.” Xu Lingyi reassured her. “No matter whether it is victory or defeat, the garrison where Jin Ge’er is stationed is set further back and is also more isolated. Unless there is a large-scale assault, the fighting will not reach him. And I have already had people inquire at the Ministry of War — that whole area has had no trouble at all.” He also promised: “If anything were to happen on his side, someone would send me word.”
Shi’er Niang’s heart was still uneasy.
Jin Ge’er’s letter arrived.
The letter he wrote to Shi’er Niang was, as ever, a report that all was well. The letter he wrote to Xu Lingyi, however, touched on these battles. And not only that — he also ventured comments on the Jiayuguan commander’s conduct of the war. The victories he did not comment on at all, but the defeats he catalogued fault by fault.
Shi’er Niang frowned deeply: “When did Jin Ge’er become so one-sided about things? It is fortunate that you are retired at home — if you were still at the Five Military Commissions and words like these reached them, the Jiayuguan commander’s position would surely be at risk.”
“At his age, with the heat of youth in his blood, this kind of reaction is only natural.” Xu Lingyi smiled. “If he were entirely given to singing praises, then I would be worried.” He then added: “Though his words are not without some foundation. The Jiayuguan commander was in charge of provisions during the western campaign. He was appointed to the post because of his steady temperament. What Jin Ge’er says is bluntly put, and rather immature — but it is not entirely without merit.” His expression carried an involuntary trace of pride. Without returning to the study, he went to the small reading room in the eastern alcove, where Shi’er Niang read, and wrote Jin Ge’er a reply there.
Shi’er Niang ground the ink at his side.
Xu Lingyi shared his own assessment of the battles with Jin Ge’er, and also suggested that Jin Ge’er look into the major military engagements at Jiayuguan over the past hundred years and then write his analysis: why were they won? Why were they lost?
Jin Ge’er continued writing to Shi’er Niang as before — once every ten days. But it was nearly two months before he replied to Xu Lingyi. In the letter, he gave a detailed account of the battles at Jiayuguan over the past hundred years and then offered his own views. The letter ran to more than forty pages and filled several envelopes.
Xu Lingyi replied with his own views on the letter.
Father and son went back and forth, discussing the art of war. Letters arrived so frequently that a letter received one day was often followed by another the very next.
People in the household had no idea what Xu Lingyi and Jin Ge’er were saying to each other; they only knew that the correspondence had become so frequent it was nearly once every two or three days. Some could not help clicking their tongues: “Just this six-hundred-li express courier service alone — how much silver must that cost!”
“It is not as if it is coming out of your silver!” someone laughed. “The Marquis himself does not mind — what is it to you? Truly a case of the emperor sitting calm while the eunuchs fret themselves to death.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
The accounts office steward Zhao went straight past those people with eyes fixed ahead, his expression stern, and requested an audience with Xu Lingyi.
Shi’er Niang immediately thought of Jin Ge’er.
She hurried to the outer study and came face to face with Steward Zhao just as he was leaving.
Steward Zhao bowed respectfully to her and quickly left the study compound.
“Do not worry!” Before Shi’er Niang could say a word, Xu Lingyi smiled: “It is not about Jin Ge’er.” He stepped toward her and said in a low voice by her ear: “It is about Chang Shun.”
“Chang Shun?” Shi’er Niang went pale. “What has happened to Chang Shun?”
When Li Ji was recommended for the post of Deputy Commander of the Fujian garrison, someone raised the matter of his father Li Zhong, arguing that Li Zhong had been “punished beyond what the crime warranted.” The Emperor flew into a rage. Had Elder Chen not stepped in to mediate, Li Ji’s deputy commander post would likely have been stripped from him.
Xu Lingyi led Shi’er Niang to the warm study behind the main study to talk: “The Wang family sent someone here, wanting to bring Chang Shun to Liaodong.”
Shi’er Niang was taken aback. “Are there still people in that family? Could the one coming for Chang Shun be an impostor?”
“He is no impostor!” Xu Lingyi said. “This matter was known only to me and to the Wang family’s people, and the one who has come to fetch Chang Shun is someone I recognize personally — he also brought the token from that year.” He then sighed: “Though I have not been in contact with the Wang family these past years, I have kept a close eye on their affairs. They were sent into exile in Liaodong. Liaodong has a sea coast. Wang Jiu Bao’s younger uncle is also a capable man — within two years of arriving there, he had made connections with the people at the coastal garrison, was diving for pearls in Liaodong and helping garrison soldiers move contraband goods. Not only did he make a considerable sum of money, he also established a foothold. Even so, the sudden move from Fujian to Liaodong was hard on the whole family — one exhausting road after another — and after arriving in Liaodong they had great difficulty adjusting. Several of the children died in infancy. Chang Shun is now the only surviving child of the Wang family. With the family now stable, it is only natural that they would want Chang Shun to come back and be acknowledged as one of their own.”
“It would of course be wonderful for him to go back.” Shi’er Niang said, considering the matter. “Following Bin Ju, Chang Shun had the best life imaginable — as good as Chang An’s. My only concern is whether the Wang family in Liaodong has truly established themselves firmly. What if in a few years the matter of the Wang family is raised again? At the very least, his safety must be guaranteed.”
“I have no absolute certainty in such matters either.” Xu Lingyi said. “But I believe that if the Wang family is bringing Chang Shun back now, they must have some confidence in being able to protect his safety. Otherwise — if something were to happen to Chang Shun, would not the Wang family line be completely cut off?”
The severing of one’s line was a grave matter indeed!
Shi’er Niang gave a slight nod. Even so, Xu Lingyi undertook some further verification before using the pretext of sending things to Jin Ge’er to bring the people coming to collect the child to Jiayuguan…
At the time of the winter solstice, word came from Jiayuguan that Chang Shun, unable to adapt to the local climate, had died suddenly of illness.
Bin Ju, though she had already been told the full story of what had happened, was still greatly saddened.
“I wonder if he can still remember me.”
“He will!” Shi’er Niang took her hand. “You were so good to him. He will remember.”
“It is not that I need him to remember me.” Bin Ju said, tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. “I am afraid he might not be living well. Simplicity has its own goodness; wealth has its own dangers.”
There was wisdom in those words.
Shi’er Niang could not help nodding.
—