At the mention of snow jelly, the patriarch’s brow furrowed. “Was the snow jelly not fresh?”
Jing Zhi replied: “It was sent over by Madam. From the look of it, it didn’t seem to be off — it’s most likely that Miss has a weak constitution and suffered an allergic reaction.”
Before the words had even finished, Yan Qin leapt up from her chair and pointed at Jing Zhi with the gilded serving spoon in her hand. “Stop talking nonsense! The snow jelly Mother sent was taken away by me. I have no idea what she snuck off and ate on her own, and now she’s pinning it on my mother.”
That outburst from Yan Qin left everyone at the Eight Immortals table momentarily stunned. First came bewilderment, then dawning realization, and all eyes turned toward the patriarch with thoughtful expressions.
Under the collective gaze, the patriarch’s complexion had already shifted — from ruddy to pale, and from pale to an ashen grey. Then, with a sudden slam of his palm on the table, the cutlery on top of it clattered and rang out.
“Wonderful. Just wonderful. I’d long heard that you enjoyed taking things from your Sixth Sister, and I refused to believe it — but today you’ve confessed to it yourself. Her health was already fragile to begin with, and now, barely recovered from a grave illness, you couldn’t even leave the tonics sent to her alone. A sister as arrogant and overbearing as you — what face do you have left to call yourself a daughter of our Yan Family?”
The patriarch was a handsome man who rarely lost his temper, but when his anger did ignite, his eyes blazed with fire. It was enough to drain the color from Yan Qin’s face on the spot, leaving her without a single word of rebuttal. Left with no other choice, she turned to appeal to Madam Yan for help.
Madam Yan, fiercely protective of her daughter, had just opened her mouth to intercede when the sound of the patriarch smashing his teacup cut through the air. “Go to the Citang right now and kneel there until dawn. You are not permitted to come out until morning. If anyone dares to speak up for her, they can kneel alongside her.”
With those words, he stopped dead in their throats every concubine who had been on the verge of saying something to smooth things over. They had been inclined to soften the situation out of deference to Madam Yan, but seeing the patriarch genuinely enraged, who among them was willing to court this kind of trouble? Each woman scrambled to protect herself.
Just as Yan Qin was sobbing and weeping, the Yan Family’s steward, Song Cheng, came hurrying in. Catching sight of the patriarch’s furious expression, he knew something had happened, but he had no choice but to steel himself and report: “Master, Director Shi has arrived.”
The patriarch’s expression gradually softened somewhat, and much of his anger dissipated. With an honored guest now present, naturally the family’s private troubles could not be displayed in public — no matter how large the matter, it would have to wait until the guest had departed.
As the patriarch left, he made a point of instructing the kitchen to set aside that fresh perch, to be steamed and sent over to Sixth Miss once she was feeling a little better.
A single fresh perch of that quality, in this season, would sell for ten yuan — enough to sustain an ordinary household for an entire month.
Song Cheng returned to the courtyard and relayed the patriarch’s words to Yan Qing word for word. When he finished, he couldn’t help laughing for a good long while. It had always been Fifth Miss who bullied their own young miss — but this time, Fifth Miss had been punished to kneel at the Citang. That Fifth Miss, with her tender and pampered skin, would surely end up with swollen knees after kneeling all night.
Jing Zhi was too busy reveling in delight to think much further, but Murong’s mind worked faster. Turning things over carefully, she felt something was off. Setting down what was in her hands, she leaned her face closer. “Miss, you figured out all along that Fifth Miss would give herself away — that’s why you…”
Otherwise, Miss had been perfectly fine. Why would she have sent Jing Zhi to claim her stomach was hurting, and then specifically explain it was because of the snow jelly — when Miss had clearly eaten nothing of the sort, only a small amount of sesame paste?
Yan Qing had grown tired from reading and set the “Compendium of Traditional Medicine” she’d been holding to one side. Without answering the question, she simply smiled at Murong. “Push me out to the courtyard for some fresh air. And bring some fish food along — those goldfish are probably starved by now.”
The Yan Qing of before had been bullied and isolated. Aside from her two loyal maidservants, the only companions she’d had were those goldfish.
Murong gathered the fish food, unable to suppress the thoughts turning in her mind. She wasn’t sure why, but she kept feeling that something about Yan Qing was different. The person was still the same person, and yet the feeling she gave off had changed entirely.
—