When elders celebrated birthdays in those days, there was naturally the custom of “warming the birthday.” For the Grand Madam’s seventieth birthday—a complete decade milestone—the celebration was naturally lively. However, great households disliked ostentation. No matter how grand the occasion, the drinking and feasting would only last three days by convention. On the actual birthday, there would be great fanfare with guests filling the gates—needless to say. But the day before had its own particular custom for the “warming birthday” feast: limited to junior family members warming the elder’s birthday. Because on the actual birthday, family members as hosts had to smile and greet guests, the family would have no leisure to gather together. Therefore, this warming birthday feast the day before was the best time for children to show filial piety to their elders.
The Xu family was vast and prosperous. Since the first Duke Pingguo earned his title for meritorious service following the dragon over a hundred years ago, the family had multiplied. Besides this branch in the capital that inherited the title, other branches engaged in study in Yangzhou, conducted business in various places, or curried favor with influential families to pursue official careers. Though all surnamed Xu, each wanted to bask in the glory of this capital branch. For the Grand Madam’s seventieth birthday, anyone with capability rushed to attend. Though supposedly the warming birthday feast was more casual than the actual day—family members could laugh and chat without strict etiquette—in reality, all the children and grandchildren of Duke Pingguo’s branch still had to put on smiling faces to receive guests. The commotion of the warming birthday feast was in no way inferior to the actual day.
Except for Fourth Young Master still stationed at the frontier unable to leave his post, Xu Fengjia and Xu Yujing had both requested leave early to stay home—these three days they also had to help receive relatives and friends. First Young Master rose even earlier to dress properly, personally greeting every guest in the mansion, then ushering them in procession to Leshan Residence to pay morning respects to the Grand Madam, and arranging for everyone to watch opera in the Mandarin Duck Hall above Pongshou Pond.
Setting aside how the brothers received male guests outside, female guests of equal generation generally listened to opera in the rear hall of Mandarin Duck Hall, accompanied by First Young Madam and Fourth Young Madam. Children were taken to Bat Hall to play, with Yu Ning and Yu Tai half hosting, half playing along. Duke Pingguo Xu Heng personally accompanied several venerable clan elders in drinking tea and conversing. Even Madam Xu struggled from her sickbed to accompany the Grand Madam in the open pavilion behind Mandarin Duck Hall with Third Aunt from Yangzhou and other senior female relatives, watching complete auspicious operas across the water.
Because Hexian’s “condition showed no improvement,” Fifth Young Madam had no mind for management affairs, merely attending the Grand Madam and helping Madam Xu receive the elders. Seventh Miss instead spent half the morning examining and warehousing several more birthday gifts that had arrived successively before entering the open pavilion. After greeting everyone, she sat in the lowest seats together with Fifth Young Madam, attending to the movements in the pavilion. Instead, Yu Qiao and Yu Ping could sit around the Grand Madam, and even Yu An got a seat behind Madam Xu, lowering her voice to joke and chat with her.
No matter how turbulent the undercurrents at home, before all the clan relatives, everyone naturally presented perfect harmony. Madam Xu frequently urged the Grand Madam to eat more snacks; the Grand Madam in turn urged Madam Xu not to tire herself with service. The scene was perfectly harmonious. Even Fifth Young Madam’s face bore a creased smile as she discussed in low tones with Seventh Miss, “Look at the old male role on stage—they say it’s a female troupe, but you truly can’t hear any feminine tones. In all the capital, only the Guo Ziyi of Chunhe Troupe is best. Most rare is that for female opera, they can still frequently be called to private gardens to perform. Even the Empress Dowager is very fond of them—last year during the Longevity Month, they performed in the palace several times.”
She usually seemed detached from worldly desires, but unexpectedly understood the capital’s household entertainment so well. Seventh Miss, who’d never had much interest in opera, merely smiled and shook her head. “I find it too noisy… Even at home, I only listen to a few Kunqu pieces during festivals. These complete operas with their drums and gongs give me a headache. Sitting here I can barely stand it—I don’t know how noisy it must be for those in the inner hall.”
“If you sat in the inner hall, you’d have to speak right into people’s ears.” Fifth Young Madam intimately linked arms with Seventh Miss. “Speaking privately amid drums and gongs is actually good—it’s so noisy that no matter what you say, others can’t hear.”
“But what if the listener is hard of hearing and shouts ‘What did you say?’ just as the drums and gongs stop—what would you do then?” Seventh Miss casually humored Fifth Young Madam, making her laugh continuously.
“Sixth Sister-in-law is so mischievous!” She smiled and tapped Seventh Miss’s forehead. Everyone looked over laughing, all saying, “Those who know would say you’re sisters-in-law; those who don’t might think you’re real sisters!”
Imagine—if even Seventh Miss and Fifth Young Madam could act like sisters, how could the atmosphere in the open pavilion not be good? After the complete auspicious opera finished and clowns came on stage for comic relief, Third Aunt praised the Grand Madam. “The Grand Madam truly knows how to nurture people—not only nurturing granddaughters-in-law well, but nurturing granddaughters even better! These three young misses are like green onion sprouts—who knows which family will be blessed enough to marry them home to manage their household!”
Before the words finished, Yu Qiao, Yu Ping, and Yu An all blushed. Unlike Jiangnan customs, they didn’t rise and withdraw but merely looked at their toes, not daring to raise their heads. The Grand Madam lovingly patted Yu Qiao’s shoulder and smiled. “Isn’t that right? These girls have all reached marriageable age, but unfortunately in recent years I’ve grown old, my daughter-in-law’s health isn’t good, and my granddaughters-in-law still haven’t matured yet. Waiting and waiting—we’ve actually delayed things!”
Third Aunt didn’t wait for others to interject but continued with a smile. “That’s perfect timing. Speaking of coincidences—this year’s top scholar Fan Zhihong, his family is actually related to ours. This boy has a younger brother who looks very much like him, also devoted to study, already bearing the xiucai degree, precisely at marriageable age. When I came to the capital this time, his mother asked me to ‘keep an eye out if I encounter anyone suitable’…”
Everyone laughed. “How wonderful—the top scholar’s younger brother must surely be studious as well.”
The Grand Madam couldn’t help exchanging glances with Madam Xu. When Seventh Miss’s gaze swept over, she saw temptation in both their faces.
These three young misses were after all only concubine-born daughters. Without special opportunities—like Sixth Miss able to attach herself to the Empress, or winning Madam Xu’s favor in childhood to be written under her name—they were ultimately insignificant to the Xu family. Their marriages weren’t worth careful consideration by those in charge. As long as family background and upbringing weren’t too different, and with Third Aunt as matchmaker—this Third Aunt from the sixth branch was prominent in Yangzhou. When Madam Xu had gone to Yangzhou to sweep graves, the sixth branch had hosted her. With this connection, she could indeed serve as matchmaker.
Once these words emerged, Yu Ping and Yu An were still alright, but Yu Qiao had already flushed red with anxiety. Though Fan Zhihong possessed great talent, his appearance truly couldn’t be complimented—supposedly when he had his imperial audience, he’d even startled the Emperor. Adults viewed marriages in terms of compatible family status, but children viewing marriages first wanted to look at faces. Among these three young ladies, Yu Qiao was eldest by age, naturally more anxious than the others.
“We still don’t know the family’s circumstances.” Madam Xu coughed several times before slowly speaking, casually glancing at Yu Qiao before adding a sentence. “If his character is upright and the family is prosperous…”
Third Aunt smiled. “Though the family has some unaccomplished distant relatives who are merchants—that particular branch has been scholarly for generations.” She’d originally mentioned it casually, but now seemed somewhat serious, leaning over to murmur several sentences with Madam Xu. Madam Xu raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly. “Really? If that’s the case, then…”
The stage volume had lowered, so everyone chatted in pairs, not paying much attention to Third Aunt and Madam Xu’s conversation. Only Yu Qiao kept frantically making eye signals at Fifth Young Madam, blinking so hard her eyelashes nearly fell off. But Fifth Young Madam only pretended not to see, instead pulling Seventh Miss to smile. “Sixth Sister-in-law, not to put on airs as your sister-in-law, but if you don’t understand Pihuang opera, when you go out socializing and people discuss it, you’ll have nothing to say and that will be awkward. Let me teach you—when listening to female opera, connoisseurs listen to the old male roles, watch the flower maiden’s movements, and as for…”
On and on, a whole opera fan’s discourse, leaving Seventh Miss bewildered. Over there, Third Aunt and Madam Xu each rose and left the open pavilion. Yu Qiao stopped making eye signals, just staring fixedly at the green brick floor, no longer making a sound. Only then did Fifth Young Madam stop talking and smile. “Refined households now all hire female troupes, also because gardens are small and hard to avoid. If gardens are larger and stages built farther away, hiring male troupes is fine too. That’s why every time the Quan family hosts, crowds surge—their place is large, they’ve always hired the Qilin Troupe, and how many opera fans wait all year just for the Quan family to host! Our Fourth Sister-in-law counts as one!”
She was usually taciturn with few smiles, but unexpectedly when talking volubly like this, it was quite engaging. Listening this way, Seventh Miss gained some understanding of the capital’s famous troupes. Seeing another complete elaborate opera begin on stage with drums and gongs thundering again, she quickly waved her hand. “Fifth Sister-in-law, let me listen carefully to see if I can appreciate it.”
Fifth Young Madam smiled and nodded, indeed saying no more. Instead, she propped her cheek, gazing through the open pavilion window toward the stage, lost in thought.
Seventh Miss listened for a while, then turned to sweep a glance at everyone. Seeing that Third Aunt and Madam Xu had returned to the room at some point, but Yu Qiao had disappeared somewhere, her heart stirred—knowing Yu Qiao had probably gleaned some bad news from their expressions and slipped out to cry.
She glanced at Fifth Young Madam again and couldn’t help asking softly in her ear, “Just now Third Sister was making eye signals at you… Did Fifth Sister-in-law not see?”
Fifth Young Madam came to herself and glanced at Seventh Miss, then surveyed the room. She rarely showed slight irritation.
“She’s young and doesn’t understand propriety! With both parents living, how can we as elder brother and sister-in-law interfere in marriage matters—” Halfway through, Fifth Young Madam seemed to remember something. She glanced at Seventh Miss, smiled to cover it, but didn’t change the subject, instead falling silent.
How could Seventh Miss not understand Fifth Young Madam’s meaning? Even if Yu Qiao and Fifth Young Master’s birth mother were alive, given Madam Xu’s dominance, this marriage would only need to look at the Grand Madam’s expression. Even if Fifth Young Madam made efforts, she could only privately say a few words in the Grand Madam’s ear on Yu Qiao’s behalf, seeing whether the Grand Madam was willing to intervene and spoil the match.
However, Third Aunt had married well—her eldest brother-in-law was a transport commissioner in the Lianghuai Salt Administration. Though his official rank wasn’t high, the family circumstances were quite prosperous, with frequent dealings with palace eunuchs. The Grand Madam and Madam Xu might well be pleased to use Yu Qiao’s marriage to strengthen relations with Third Aunt—laying down an insignificant idle piece.
Seventh Miss’s mood suddenly grew heavy. Though she didn’t particularly like Yu Qiao, watching a young girl’s entire life decided in a moment still brought her deep displeasure.
She asked no further questions, merely sighing lightly.
This heartfelt sigh seemed to truly anger Fifth Young Madam.
She suddenly leaned close to Seventh Miss’s ear, speaking in low, hurried tones. “Third Aunt had already hinted to Yu Jing early on. As for the Fan family, though their status is somewhat low and they’ve had no officials for generations, Fan Zhihong’s talent is superb and highly appreciated by the Emperor. Their family relatives do salt transport business and interact frequently with Third Aunt. Though their status is currently low, in a few years if he passes the juren examination and purchases an official position, won’t they rise?”
Amid the thundering drums and gongs, her tone carried abnormal tension and shrillness. Seventh Miss couldn’t help being startled. After a pause, she asked quietly, “But Yu Qiao looked like she was hearing this for the first time…”
Fifth Young Madam laughed through her nose, saying softly, “A daughter’s marriage is naturally decided by father and brothers. Whether she knows or not, what can she do? She still has to marry—I just couldn’t be bothered to tell her.”
She seemed angered by Seventh Miss’s sympathetic sigh, adding as if in defense, “She’s just a child who doesn’t understand—to dislike someone for being ugly!”
Though the last sentence was indirect, it also jabbed at Seventh Miss. But Seventh Miss didn’t care. She glanced at Fifth Young Madam in shock, confirming the displeasure in her eyes, and found herself truly speechless.
Ritual propriety had never been able to constrain human nature.
Even Fifth Miss and Sixth Miss, raised with ancient standards of feminine education, had their own visions of marriage. Even the most old-fashioned Grand Madam, when happy, had promised Seventh Miss “you can choose your own husband.”
Though it wasn’t ultimately realized, it fully demonstrated that even in Great Qin’s rigidly hierarchical society, when circumstances permitted, families would always ask daughters’ wishes regarding marriage.
Just seeing Fifth Young Madam angered by her sympathy for Yu Qiao showed she did hold some sense of responsibility toward Yu Qiao. That’s why she thought Seventh Miss’s sigh was subtly criticizing her for not looking after her husband’s full sister. Her defensive words were indeed reasonable and well-founded. But that last sentence truly revealed that she’d never told Yu Qiao about this matter.
For a concubine sister who morally, in terms of responsibility, and even in self-perception was under her protection, to not even bother with one word of notification… Did Fifth Young Madam simply never consider Yu Qiao as a living, sentient being? Never released even a bit of care toward her, thus neglecting her psychological state? Thus arranging a decent match for her with great effort, yet still possibly earning Yu Qiao’s resentment?
Or had she simply never experienced a marriage-age daughter’s feelings, not knowing that every marriage-age daughter, even if unable to decide her own fate, still wanted as much knowledge as possible about her marriage?
Given Fifth Young Madam’s shrewdness, thankless efforts seemed unlike something she’d do.
But could she be unfeeling to this degree? She’d only been married a few years herself—could she truly lack even this much empathy?
Seventh Miss drew a slight breath.
“Fifth Sister-in-law misunderstood.” She patted Fifth Young Madam’s hand, intimately glancing at her. “I sighed because Yu Qiao doesn’t understand—knowing you wouldn’t harm her, yet being so anxious…”
Even the most rational and reserved person couldn’t resist flattery, let alone Fifth Young Madam after being “misunderstood,” with emotions seemingly fluctuating.
“Ah,” she waved her hand, about to say something but held back. After a long moment, she smiled faintly. “After all, the child is young and likes to act emotionally.”
Yu Qiao’s slight concern for her own fate became, in Fifth Young Madam’s mouth, casual emotional indulgence.
Fifth Young Madam smiled intimately at Seventh Miss again, seemingly gratified that the two of them were no longer intensely opposing each other. “Though Sixth Sister-in-law is several years younger than us, when you speak, you’re quite mature.”
The crack in the mask had unconsciously been patched over. She’d again become that pleasing but rigid figure in a painting.
But Seventh Miss felt a chill.
Around her, everyone wore several masks, but she could always glimpse something of the true face beneath. They were still human after all—humanity always had its glimmers.
Rarely, she preferred Fifth Young Madam’s mask to her true face.