Yan Qing had just begun to look away when a sudden splash rang out, as though something had fallen into the water, sending up a tremendous burst of sound.

Following the noise, she spotted two maidservants frantically pulling someone up from the water’s edge. The person had lost her footing on the bank, her hair disheveled and her dress soaked through, and she was wailing and crying without stop from the shock.

And this person who had tumbled into the water was none other than Fifth Miss Yan Qin — who was supposed to be kneeling at the Citang as punishment.

Fifth Miss had been hiding behind a willow tree on the bank, sneaking glances at Director Shi, but in her excitement her foot had slipped, and she had ended up in this sorry spectacle.

Having his own daughter make a fool of herself in front of a guest left the patriarch’s face an iron grey. He appeared to exchange a few apologetic words with the young man beside him, and the two promptly left the bridge and headed toward the storeroom at the back, leaving the thoroughly drenched Yan Qin to fume and stamp her feet alone.

Jing Zhi, at Yan Qing’s side, had dissolved into helpless laughter. Even the usually unsmiling Murong had the corners of her mouth turned up, working hard to suppress a grin.

“Miss, you may not know this, but Fifth Miss has been hopelessly infatuated with Director Shi ever since she first laid eyes on him. Whenever he comes to collect medicine for his mother, she always hides somewhere to steal a look at him.” Jing Zhi, the ever-reliable purveyor of gossip, was freely sharing what she knew. “They say Fifth Miss even begged Madam to send a marriage proposal to the Shi Family on her behalf — but the Master gave her a thorough scolding for it. Throughout all of history, what woman has ever gone to propose marriage to a man?”

Yan Qing smiled faintly and tossed another handful of fish food into the water. A face like Director Shi’s, in her era, would have eclipsed every male celebrity in existence — no wonder Yan Qin was hopelessly captivated by him.

When he had stood on the bridge just now, a phrase had surfaced in her mind unbidden: *A handsome rider leans lazily against a bridge, while rows of red sleeves beckon from every floor.*

As dusk began to fall, Yan Qing and her two maidservants packed up their things and prepared to return to the courtyard. Jing Zhi was still sighing dreamily over the young Director Shi — marveling at how accomplished he was for his age, and how brilliantly clever. It was plain to see that this Director Shi’s reputation among ordinary people was quite good, and not only on account of his exceptional looks.

“Have you heard? The house across the way has started being haunted again.”

“It’s not as if it’s only been haunted for a day or two. They say every night at exactly midnight you can hear knocking at the door and the sound of crying. Terrifying.”

“Still, what a wretched thing it is. All those people in a single night…” Two young maidservants in dark blue dress approached from not far away. So absorbed in their conversation were they that they didn’t notice Yan Qing in the middle of the path until they were nearly upon her. Startled, the two girls hurriedly performed a bow and called out together: “Sixth Miss.”

Girls like these were the sort who would bully the meek and fear the strong. Knowing Sixth Miss had a timid and submissive disposition, they weren’t particularly worried even if they did give offense — and so that curtsy was a rather perfunctory affair, without much sincerity behind it.

Yan Qing clearly had no desire to bother with two servant girls. She was a person who had already died once, and having been given a second life, she wanted only simplicity and peace. As long as others did not quarrel with her, she was content to let the petty entanglements of the world pass her by. But if someone chose to bully her, she would naturally not simply sit back and accept it.

After the two maidservants left, Murong pushed her through the round moon gate ahead. Passing through that archway led directly to Yan Qing’s courtyard — one that was notably larger than those of the other misses, even containing a small decorative rockery and pond.

“Jing Zhi — what is this ‘haunting’ they were talking about just now? What place did they mean?” Yan Qing had been paying close attention to the two maidservants’ conversation.

Jing Zhi’s usual enthusiasm was entirely absent this time; she seemed a little tongue-tied. It was Murong who spoke: “They’re talking about the Chen estate, just diagonally across the street. The master of that household was a well-known comprador in the Shun Cheng area — a man of some means, who had occasional dealings with our own Master as well. Half a month ago, one night, someone heard screams coming from the Chen estate, but the sound quickly died away, and people thought nothing of it. The next morning, an early-rising neighbor discovered blood flowing out from beneath the Chen estate’s front gate — a great long trail of it — and reported it to the Military Police Bureau.”

“And then? What did the people from the Military Police Bureau find?” Yan Qing’s fingers resting on her knees began to tap lightly. It was a small habit of hers: whenever something caught her interest, this unconscious motion would appear.

—