Ming Huashang’s words had come at a very awkward moment. Ming Huazhang’s half-formed objection fell silent; he gave her a light, indifferent glance and said: “Feihong Garden is up in the Mang Mountains. The roads for carriages and horses are already inconvenient at the best of times, and with the heavy snowfall of late, the mountain paths will likely be extremely difficult going. Since you are unwell, it would be better not to go. Let me tell Grandmother, and you can stay at home instead…”
The words were spoken with his usual cool, proud manner, brows drawn together — yet within his eyes lay a sincerity. Of all the people in the room, Ming Huazhang was probably the most difficult to approach. But hearing his words, Ming Huashang felt a quiet warmth.
So it turned out that Ming Huazhang’s repeated glances when he had entered the room were not because he thought her yawning was shameful — he had thought she was unwell.
Ming Huashang had suffered through half a night of bad dreams, and though she had done her best to gather herself, she was still unavoidably pale and abstracted. She had been in the room for quite a while now — and yet Grandmother, the aunts by marriage, and the two female cousins had not asked her a single thing. It was the notoriously cold Ming Huazhang who had noticed.
Ming Huashang was deeply moved. So Elder Brother did care about her after all. She had always been frightened of Ming Huazhang’s coolness; and since they were dragon-and-phoenix twins — one outstanding, one a failure — she had assumed Ming Huazhang must look down on her, and had sensibly never sought to bother him. Now it seemed she had been wrong.
Even between blood relatives, a relationship required tending. Their contact had been so limited to begin with; if she did not take the initiative, how could they ever have anything to say to each other?
Even though they were not biological siblings, having lived in the same household for sixteen years, Ming Huashang sincerely regarded him as her elder brother. If their relationship were a little better and Ming Huazhang were willing to offer her more protection, might not whoever was behind this reconsider killing her?
And at the very least — if she could hold fast to Ming Huazhang’s coattails, then even when the true daughter really did return to the household, she could ask Ming Huazhang to send people to keep her safe, allowing her to leave the Ming family whole and unharmed.
Her biological grandmother, Nanny Su, had been consumed by greed and upended the true daughter’s entire life. Even though this had not been Ming Huashang’s own wish, she had still wronged the true daughter. She had enjoyed sixteen years of wealth and privilege that were not rightfully hers, and that should be enough. When Su Yuji returned, she was willing to yield her place and take herself out of the Duke’s household of her own accord.
But the swapping of the true and false daughters had not been something she had asked for. She should not have to pay for it with her life. She did not care about the Ming family’s wealth and power — but she cared very much about her own life.
She wanted to live. And if at all possible, she wanted to find out who was trying to kill her.
For that, she would do whatever it took. When weighed against the preservation of her life, what did a mere snowy mountain road matter?
Ming Huashang steeled herself and said without hesitation: “I am perfectly fine. As long as I can stay with Elder Brother, it doesn’t matter where we go. Elder Brother won’t think I’m a burden, will he?”
The Old Madam quietly frowned. An unmarried young lady speaking like this — far too improper. But considering that these two were dragon-and-phoenix twins who had spent ten months side by side in the womb, it was natural that they would be closer than ordinary siblings, and so the Old Madam’s frown tightened but she said nothing.
Ming Huazhang was in fact still opposed. His reluctance to take Ming Huashang to the Feihong Banquet was not on account of the snowy mountain roads — it was because Prince Wei, Prince Liang, Prince Gaoyang, and other members of the Wu clan would also be there. Princess Taiping was extravagant and licentious; out beyond the city with no censors watching, the banquet was sure to be disorderly and turbulent. He was unwilling to let Ming Huashang face any of that.
But Ming Huashang was staring straight at him, those eyes as black and round as a little deer’s, gazing at him with that expectant look — and all his words of refusal would not come. He could only, helplessly, give an inch: “Very well. But once we go out, you must listen to me. No going off on your own.”
Ming Huashang had not expected Ming Huazhang to actually agree. She was briefly stunned, then overjoyed: “Thank you, Elder Brother! You are the best, Second Elder Brother!”
The young lady’s delight was direct and undisguised, her eyes blazing with a brightness that was almost impossible to look at straight on. Ming Huazhang was long accustomed to cool detachment, and being so suddenly wrapped in such a vivid, warm smile caught him off guard.
It was only a matter of taking her out for a while — was there really any need to be this happy?
Ming Huazhang was accustomed to giving orders; this time it was he who looked away first. Ming Shuo, seeing the elder brother who was cold as ice to everyone else making an exception for Ming Huashang, tugged at her skirt sash in fury. Second Madam Zhao Shi, watching the siblings of the First Branch display their warm and close bond, felt as though a thorn had lodged itself in her eye.
Only the Old Madam saw this and felt gratified. The First Branch had only Ming Huazhang as a son; Ming Huazhang himself was exceptionally accomplished — gifted in both arts and literature, skilled in both writing and martial arts, without a single fault in character or appearance. The Old Madam was very satisfied with Ming Huazhang and had already come to regard him as the next Duke. It was only a pity that this child had such a reserved and cool nature — apart from Duke Zhenguo, he was close to no one else in the Ming family. That he was willing to talk with Ming Huashang was a good thing.
Whoever Ming Huazhang favored, the Old Madam would also regard more highly. The Old Madam said slowly: “You two siblings are dragon-and-phoenix twins; you spent ten months together in the womb. Aside from your father, you are the closest people in the world to each other — no future wife or husband will ever match the bond between brother and sister. Twins should be close like this; others are glad to see it. Bao Qin, go to my jewelry chest and bring out that bolt of crimson-striped brocade with the paired dragon-and-phoenix pattern — have new garments made for Second Young Master and Second Miss. You both have fine looks; wearing matching outfits to the banquet will add some festive cheer for Princess Taiping.”
When Ming Yu heard the Old Madam going so far as to bring out this treasured brocade, she shot a concealed, resentful glare at Ming Huashang. The Old Madam had clearly said this bolt of brocade was being saved to add to their trousseau — and now, simply because of one banquet, it was all going to Ming Huashang?
Ming Huashang gave her thanks and let Zhao Cai take the fabric. She noticed that both the Second and Third branches were looking at her with unfriendly eyes, and she inwardly huffed: bullies only picked on the soft targets. Ming Huazhang had been given things too — so why did they not dare glare at Ming Huazhang?
The Old Madam had intended from the beginning for Ming Huazhang and Ming Huashang to go; now that everything had gone as she wished, she set her mind at ease and said: “Though Feihong Garden is an imperial garden, it is still not like home — and you will be gone for several days. Go quickly and get your things together. Second Daughter-in-law, Third Daughter-in-law, take your daughters and go back as well — there is no need to linger here with me.”
Everyone rose and bowed, paid their respects, and filed out one by one to put on their shoes and leave. Ming Huazhang dressed most quickly — he casually swept his cloak around his shoulders, lifted the curtain, and was gone. Ming Huashang hurriedly pulled on her boots and chased after him.
Only the Second and Third branches were left in the hall. Ming Shuo, who had been holding it in for a long while, could bear the sense of injustice no longer, and pulled at the Third Madam’s sleeve: “A’Niang, Princess Taiping’s invitation was sent to the Ming family — it wasn’t sent to just the First Branch. Why can’t we go, while Ming Huashang gets to follow Elder Brother?”
The Third Madam glanced swiftly at the Second Branch mother and daughter, then made eyes at Ming Shuo: “A’Jie, don’t be rude. Your uncle is the Duke — of course the First Branch takes precedence in all things. The snow outside is very heavy, and your winter cough from before the New Year hasn’t fully healed. Even if Grandmother had wanted you to go, I wouldn’t feel right letting you out. Come along — it’s time for your medicine.”
Ming Shuo was pulled away, unwilling, by the Third Madam. Ming Yu was the last to leave. Only after the Third Branch’s maids and servants had all disappeared from view did she let out a scornful sound and say to her mother: “A’Niang, Third Aunt really is calculating — does she think we’re fools? She refuses to take the lead and just lets us be the ones to step forward.”
“Your grandmother is still in there — say a little less,” Second Madam said coolly. “Besides, she wasn’t wrong. Doesn’t this Duke’s household belong to the First Branch?”
They were the concubine-born Second Branch — the First Branch was firmly established, Ming Huazhang’s name was known throughout the capital, and there was no way the title would ever fall to them. Ming Yu had never harbored any hope of the title “Duke’s daughter” — she only wanted to make the most of the time before the family separated to prepare as much of a dowry for herself as possible.
What was infuriating was the Old Madam’s bias: favoritism toward Ming Huazhang was one thing, but that good-for-nothing had done nothing at all — why should she get everything simply by virtue of being Ming Huazhang’s sister?
Ming Yu was indignant: “What a fine status she has — and yet she refuses to apply herself. There is no young lady in Luoyang more of a disgrace. This generation of daughters should properly use the character for women in their names, and yet she was given the same naming convention as the young gentlemen.”
“All right, say a little less,” Second Madam said. “What can you do about it? She is a dragon-and-phoenix twin — bonded to Second Young Master like flesh and bone, closer than others to begin with. Let’s go.”
In this generation, according to the clan genealogy, daughters should use characters with the female radical — like Ming Yu and Ming Shuo — while only sons should use the character “Hua.” But it so happened that Ming Huazhang and Ming Huashang had been born together, and when Duke Zhenguo chose their names, he had not followed the genealogy’s order. Instead, he had looked to the Book of Songs, choosing “Huazhang” and “Huashang” from the verse: “How brilliantly flowers the shrub, the yellow flower gleaming bright! — I have seen this child, possessed of abundant dignity and grace.” He had hoped for them to be radiant and beautiful, yet never depart from the elegance of rites and music.
The two names were clearly a pair — filled with expectation and love; even a stranger could see how deeply the one who chose them had cherished them. Ming Yu stamped her foot in indignation and followed her mother away.
By now in the white expanse of wind and snow, Ming Huashang was following along behind Ming Huazhang, completely unbothered by his cool expression, chattering away: “Elder Brother, thank you for being willing to take me out. Where is Feihong Garden? Is it far? What do I need to bring? Will it be cold on the road?”
Ming Huazhang felt his head beginning to ache from the noise. He felt a considerable helplessness in his heart — these two were the only people he had ever met who knew full well he wore a cold expression and still insisted on pressing close: the other one being Xie Jichuan. But Ming Huashang and Xie Jichuan were different. Xie Jichuan was thick-skinned and could be rebuffed freely, but Ming Huashang was a young woman — Ming Huazhang could not truly leave her behind.
Ming Huazhang said: “You don’t even know where Feihong Garden is, so why are you so determined to go? Would it not be better for me to speak to Grandmother, and you remain at home in the household…”
“No.” Ming Huashang leapt up as though her tail had been trodden on, and reached out to seize Ming Huazhang’s sleeve in both hands — nearly hanging off of him entirely. “Absolutely not — you already promised me, you cannot take it back!”
Ming Huashang had plenty of practice at this sort of thing. Without hesitation she gripped a small section of Ming Huazhang’s sleeve and tilted her head back to look up at him with pitiful eyes.
The two were the same age, but the young man’s build was considerably taller than Ming Huashang. His frame still held the lean lines of youth, but his shoulders had already filled out; his legs were long, his limbs slender — standing under the eaves he was upright and graceful as bamboo after rain, incomparably refined. Ming Huashang had to tilt her head back to see the lower half of Ming Huazhang’s face.
She had learned nothing of music, chess, calligraphy, or painting, but in the art of pouting and evading consequences she had considerable expertise — Duke Zhenguo regularly crumbled before the look in her eyes. Ming Huazhang had no defense against the nearby, liquid, puppy-who-is-about-to-be-abandoned gaze that had appeared so close to him. He tried to pull his sleeve back, but Ming Huashang, fearing a refusal, clutched his arm tighter and pressed against him plaintively: “Elder Brother!”
Ming Huazhang felt the sudden warmth and softness pressing against his arm, and finding he truly had no other recourse, said: “I was not planning to take it back. First, let go.”
Ming Huashang’s eyes went perfectly round, studying him with suspicion: “Really?”
The young man’s next words were almost a sigh: “Really.”
Ming Huashang happily released her grip. Ming Huazhang quietly let out a breath of relief, and now at last had room to answer her earlier questions: “Feihong Garden is on the southern face of the Mang Mountains. Princess Taiping, wanting to gaze out over all of Luoyang, spent a fortune building a manor on the highest peak. Once you enter the Mang Mountains, you can look up and see her garden. The views are magnificent — but the paths are poor. It will be colder in the mountains than in Luoyang. Bring plenty of thick clothing, blankets, and hand warmers. Don’t worry about the weight of the baggage — bring as much as you can…”
“Wait — Elder Brother, slow down!” Ming Huashang quickly turned around. “Zhao Cai, hurry over here and write down everything that needs to be packed!”
Ming Huazhang heard that name, and the corner of his brow gave an involuntary twitch. He glanced at Ming Huashang, his expression complex and subtle — then finally gave up.
Never mind. If she liked calling her that, let her call her that. The name “Zhao Cai” (Summon Wealth) was actually… perfectly fine.
Ming Huazhang slowed his speech and went through again from the beginning — all the necessities for the journey. Zhao Cai listened with full concentration, committing it all to memory. Ming Huashang successfully transferred the burden of responsibility onto someone else, leaving herself with nothing to do, and looked idly around for something to occupy her eyes.
Of all the sights in the snow-filled courtyard, the most beautiful was Ming Huazhang. The young man stood under the eaves with his hands behind his back, his crimson robes reflected in the snow beyond the covered walkway, shimmering with a brilliant flush of color.
She had always known Ming Huazhang was handsome, but seeing him up close like this today, Ming Huashang found she understood why he had become the white moonlight and dream-figure for all the young ladies in Luoyang. She noticed that Ming Huazhang’s collar was askew — it must have been pulled out of place when she grabbed him just now.
Ming Huazhang was as beautiful as a moon above the clouds, and like the moon he was cool and proud. With his clothes now disarranged, it was really quite a blight on his beauty and bearing. Ming Huashang reached out with practiced ease and made to straighten his collar.
Ming Huazhang was startled and stepped back at once. Ming Huashang met those cold, crystalline eyes and felt a touch of embarrassment, hand still raised in midair: “Elder Brother, your collar is crooked…”
Ming Huazhang glanced swiftly down, then with one hand adjusted his collar back into place.
His expression was so formidably inviolable that Ming Huashang was overcome by a guilty sense of having committed some impropriety. She fidgeted uncomfortably. Ming Huazhang pressed his thin lips together; he still looked every bit the upright and luminous young gentleman: “When I return, I will have a list prepared and sent over to you. If there is nothing else — I will take my leave.”
Ming Huashang thought of something and almost blurted it out — but seeing Ming Huazhang’s expression of wanting nothing more than to be left in peace, she hesitated. Ming Huazhang noticed her hesitation and asked: “Is there something else?”
Ming Huashang bit her lip, embarrassed to say it: “Um… will there be enough food at the banquet?”