Yining was unaware that her father had spoken up for her.
As she practiced calligraphy, she heard a sound and turned to see Wei Ling standing silently behind her.
Yining sat up straight to speak with him: “You’re home early today…”
Before she could finish, Wei Ling suddenly embraced her.
Caught off guard, Yining smelled the pleasant pine scent on Wei Ling. Guessing Zhenzhu must have told him something, she said, “Father, I’m fine.”
Wei Ling paused, his voice low: “I know.” He had been afraid of frightening her before and didn’t dare embrace her. But today he felt especially tender towards her, even more so than when she was with the Luo family. Perhaps this incident arose because of him because he hadn’t protected her well enough.
After a long silence, he finally said: “When I brought you back, I promised no one would bully you…”
“Nothing is absolute,” Yining said softly. She had never expected life at the Wei manor to be without obstacles, with everyone liking her. That was impossible.
Wei Ling stroked her hair without making any promises. Words were useless. He sat down: “Your grandmother raised Mingzhu, so she greatly favors her. Before you came, Mingzhu could do as she pleased here.” He continued, “In the future if she mistreats you in any way, come tell me directly.”
At that point, he certainly wouldn’t show mercy again.
Meanwhile, at Jingan Residence, the Dowager felt increasingly uneasy.
She asked Mama Song to fetch an umbrella, intending to visit Yining. Mama Song cautioned about the slippery snowy paths, but the Dowager insisted. Mama Song had no choice but to call for a sedan chair. The Dowager headed straight for Yining’s western side room upon arrival. When a maid tried to announce her, Mama Song gestured for silence.
The Dowager stood at the doorway, watching by candlelight. Yining was chatting with Wei Ling, both laughing at something amusing. Their large and small faces bore strikingly similar expressions when smiling, with matching moles at the brow.
The Dowager felt a surge of familial affection at the sight. This was truly the bond of blood.
Yining noticed the Dowager and her smile faded slightly. She wasn’t as relaxed and unguarded as with Wei Ling. With some restraint, she called out: “Grandmother.”
Seeing this, the Dowager’s heart clenched. Yining was still just a young girl! Of course, she would be guarded after being hurt, naturally less close. Yet when Yining first returned, she had been just as close to her…
The Dowager forced a smile: “I just came to check on you… It’s nothing, carry on with your conversation.”
She saw that Wei Ling didn’t even look at her as she turned to leave. Back in her sedan chair, she suddenly coughed several times. Mama Song asked anxiously: “My lady, are you alright?”
“Just a cold, nothing serious,” the Dowager said, closing her eyes. The sedan chair’s pace quickened considerably.
At Jingan Residence, Zhao Mingzhu was waiting. Seeing the Dowager enter, she immediately grasped her hand and asked: “Grandmother, you saw Uncle today? What… what did he say?”
The Dowager coughed heavily. Seeing Mingzhu’s anxious face, eager to hear her answer, she suddenly felt disappointed.
She was ill, yet Mingzhu hadn’t even noticed. She only cared about her affairs.
“It’s nothing,” the Dowager said flatly, still unable to be harsh. “Your uncle has no such intentions.”
Mama Song supported the Dowager in her inner chambers. Mingzhu hesitated briefly before following.
After this incident, the Dowager sent many items from her storerooms to Yining, along with daily deliveries of various confections. Yining of course wouldn’t hold a grudge against an elder, considering the matter settled. But she was no longer as close as before.
Wei Ling, however, didn’t let Zhao Mingzhu off easily. He told the steward: “Mingzhu’s maids and expenses are excessive. Even a princess doesn’t have such extravagance.” He then reassigned half of Mingzhu’s maids and halved her daily allowance. But Yining could have as much as she needed – Wei Ling never commented on any excess. He even personally selected maids to help manage Yining’s household. Whatever Yining wanted, the Marquis’s orders were passed down swiftly.
In the past, the Dowager would have certainly objected, but this time she remained silent, allowing Wei Ling to proceed.
Zhao Mingzhu was speechless with anger in her room. She had never encountered such treatment in her life! She ran to complain to the Dowager, who pressed her lips together without a word, only comfortingly patting Mingzhu’s head. This was Wei Ling’s decision; she couldn’t interfere. Besides, Mingzhu having so many maids… was indeed improper.
Mingzhu felt the Dowager’s attitude towards her had cooled recently, which hurt her deeply. She had always regarded the Dowager as family. She tried to cajole and please the Dowager, who gradually warmed up to her again. Soon things seemed back to normal.
However, the household staff and servants now understood – this adopted young lady couldn’t compare to the true daughter. The Marquis wouldn’t pamper an unrelated false young lady.
Meanwhile, after much deliberation, Ting’er still hadn’t told his father about the incident. But since Cheng Lang hadn’t visited for several days, he felt more relaxed. Free from calligraphy practice, he spent his days playing with Zhao Mingzhu.
Yining also noticed the change in how the household staff treated her.
The Dowager’s birthday was approaching – a major celebration for her 60th.
Yining planned to make an embroidered screen. Though not valuable, it was a heartfelt gift. She summoned the steward, saying she needed to prepare a birthday gift and requesting a folding screen. To her surprise, the next day the steward delivered four or five screens for her to choose from, treating her with utmost respect. He said: “Young Miss, please tell me if you need anything else. The Marquis instructed that while other things can be reduced, nothing should be spared for you!”
Yining dismissed him with a wry smile. She had only wanted one screen.
On the morning of the Dowager’s birthday, the manor was bustling with activity. Yining went to the Dowager’s quarters early. The Dowager was still having her hair done. Zhao Mingzhu, already dressed, sat beside her in a light red brocade jacket embroidered with gold. Her hair was coiffed with a golden phoenix hairpin, and gold earrings accentuated her fair, glowing complexion. Always beautiful, Mingzhu looked especially radiant and dazzling today.
The Dowager pulled Yining over to look. Yining’s style was typically more understated. Today she wore a light pink silk jacket with sleeves embroidered with auspicious patterns and a dark blue Xiang skirt. Her hair was adorned with an openwork gold hairpin inlaid with jade. Her features had matured slightly, with clear, moist almond eyes like spring reflected in a pool. Her skin was as delicate as snow, giving her an ethereal aura.
The Dowager was secretly astonished, wondering how stunning the child would look if dressed more elaborately.
Even Yining sometimes marveled at her reflection, wondering what kind of beauty her birth mother Gu Minglan must have been.
As she grew older, Yining felt increasingly uneasy about her looks, fearing such beauty might invite trouble. She never dared dress too flashily. But who truly prefers an unchanging plainness?
She wished the Dowager boundless fortune and longevity. The Dowager smiled and gave her a red envelope, saying: “Later I’ll take you out to meet the guests. Don’t be nervous.”
Yining lowered her eyes. Of course, she wouldn’t be nervous.
“Sister Yining should dress more brightly,” Zhao Mingzhu remarked. Though she didn’t like Yining, they were more familiar now and could exchange a few words. “Otherwise people might think we haven’t been treating you well.”
“It’s enough that Elder Sister Mingzhu looks beautiful,” Yining smiled. “I’m still young, so it’s unnecessary for me.”
Mingzhu’s taste in clothing seemed similar to her stepmother’s flashy style.
When the time came, Yining supported the Dowager out to the main hall where the banquet was set. Many guests were already waiting. After seating the Dowager, Yining stepped forward with a slight curtsy, smiling: “To celebrate Grandmother’s birthday, I’ll humbly offer a small performance.”
She called for a wolf-hair brush and bent over the paper. With a deft touch, she wrote the character for “longevity” in seal script, the strokes flowing like a dancing dragon and phoenix.
As she finished, she twirled the brush gracefully and bowed again, stepping back with a serene smile.
Some guests were seeing her for the first time and felt curious. Wasn’t this young lady only recently found, not raised in the Wei household? Yet she carried herself with more grace than the one raised here, and her calligraphy was exquisite – trained by a master. Compared to Zhao Mingzhu beside her, who was merely dressed lavishly, Yining possessed an effortless, natural elegance.
Indeed, bloodline was crucial. A commoner in dragon robes could never truly resemble an emperor.
Feeling she’d made enough of an impression, as Wei Ling had wanted her to make an appearance, Yining stepped aside. It was time for the Dowager to speak.
After the Dowager addressed the guests, the feast began.
The banquet was set up beside Fangshan, where the plum blossoms were in full bloom.
Yining had become somewhat acquainted with the two young ladies from the He family and exchanged a few words with them. Zhao Mingzhu was whispering with Shen Jiarou when she suddenly looked outside as if spotting something. She stood up, saying: “Please start without me. I have some business to attend to and may need to leave early.”
As she took a step, she heard someone behind her mutter scornfully: “She thinks she’s a true young lady… She’s just an adopted nobody. Even the real Wei family young lady doesn’t put on such airs.”
Mingzhu’s face flushed hot. She bit her lip and looked back, but couldn’t tell who had spoken among the roomful of women.
She had always cared deeply about face, believing herself to be of noble status. How could she tolerate such words? In the past, anyone who dared call her adopted would have faced her wrath.
But now, turning back to confront the speaker would only invite more mockery.
Mingzhu held back her anger and left the flower hall, her face icy.
Yining, seeing Mingzhu leave, felt curious. Having had a couple of cups of plum wine, she felt slightly tipsy. Thinking some fresh air would be nice, and wondering what Mingzhu was up to, she also stood up, asking Songzhi to help her outside for a walk.
Outside, the snow had cleared to reveal sunny skies. Fangshan offered an open view of crimson plum blossoms in full bloom. No longer seeing Mingzhu, Yining sat down in the corridor. A breeze helped clear her head somewhat. She gazed at the plum blossoms, planning to go back inside after the wind sobered her up a bit more. It was quite cold.
Suddenly, a voice came from behind her: “Why is Sister Yining sitting here?”
Yining turned to see a handsome, upright young man in dark clothing smiling as he approached. “My sisters are still inside,” he said.
She recognized him as Shen Yu, the son of the Loyal and Diligent Count, whom she had seen before.
Yining stood up, nodding: “Brother Shen Yu.” Unfamiliar with him, she didn’t wish to converse further.
But Shen Yu stared intently at her face, even at the snow-white, lustrous neck visible above her collar. Perhaps due to the wine, her cheeks were slightly flushed.
Ever since first seeing her, Shen Yu had felt an itch, constantly recalling her voice. His heart grew increasingly restless. He had come with his sisters twice but hadn’t seen her. Just now, noticing Yining leave, he followed, hoping to exchange a few words.
Seeing Yining try to leave, Shen Yu anxiously blocked her path, saying softly: “Sister Yining, have… have you been drinking? Your face is a bit red.”
Yining glanced at him after hearing this, cautiously stepping back.
His words were rather inappropriate.