Minglan was bent over her work in deep concentration, tracing out a pattern. In the bright daylight, she drew the antennae on several crickets with lifelike precision. Danju came over carrying a tea bowl, and seeing how Minglan hadn’t so much as blinked, said with concern, “Young Miss, do rest a moment — don’t ruin your eyes.”

Fine beads of perspiration had gathered on Minglan’s forehead, but she didn’t budge. “It’s precisely because I’m afraid of ruining my eyes that I’m forcing myself to do this in daylight.” She drew the final stroke, then let out a long breath and set down her brush. “It’s traced. You and Yancao cut out the pattern together.”

Danju tested the warmth of the bowl and placed the tea in Minglan’s hands, then went to look at the work. “Young Miss has such skill — this cricket and cicada, no bigger than a thumbnail, look as though they could move.”

Xiaotao, who had been sorting clothing in the side room, heard this, set down what she was doing, and came out to complain: “We might as well catch a few live ones and be done with it — that would be far simpler. Young Miss, if only you did your work a little less well, you wouldn’t have gotten saddled with this task. They say a person fears becoming famous just as a pig fears becoming—” She suddenly realized what she was saying and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Minglan pointed at Xiaotao and shook her head with a sigh. Danju also let out a laugh before catching herself and putting on a stern face. “At your age, still saying such things — if you had any other mistress, she’d have had your skin off!”

Xiaotao lowered her head in embarrassment. “I won’t dare again.” She ducked back in to finish sorting.

Just then, the bamboo curtain swayed and Luzhi came in smiling, politely holding the curtain aside to let a plump, full-faced matron through behind her.

“Good day, Sixth Young Miss.” The matron was dressed in a silver-red lapel jacket with dark-patterned flowers and a dark-green long inner robe with cut-silk embroidery. She cradled a flat, oblong lacquered box, and bent into a partial curtsy for Minglan. She was one of Wang Shi’s personal attendants who had accompanied her from her own family’s household — before Nanny Liu Kun arrived, this woman had been trusted and relied upon by Wang Shi; now she had fallen back a degree, likely because she had not been effective enough in the struggle against Lin Yiniang.

Minglan smiled. “You’re too formal, Nanny Qian. Luzhi, bring a seat and some tea.” She tilted her head and gave Danju a look; Danju understood at once and slipped into the inner room.

Nanny Qian settled into her seat and turned toward Minglan with a smile. “Today I’ve brought a few of the seamstresses along — they’ve come to take measurements for the young ladies in the courtyard, so we can have their summer and autumn clothes made up.”

“Such a small matter — there was no need for you to come in person.” Minglan gestured to a plate of rose and pine-nut honeyed cakes before her and had Luzhi bring it to Nanny Qian. “These are ones Nanny Fang taught me to make — the ingredients are troublesome and the process elaborate. I find them soft and sweet, though Grandmother has particular tastes. Do try some.”

Nanny Qian picked up a small piece and found it delicately sweet, soft, and yielding on the tongue. Luzhi was already attentively offering a freshly brewed cup of Yunlan Melon Slice tea. Nanny Qian took a sip, and the lingering fragrance on her palate made her exclaim with praise.

“If you like them, take some of the cakes and tea home with you — for passing the time at leisure.” Minglan said warmly.

Nanny Qian did not protest very firmly: “How could I — eating here and taking things home too.”

Luzhi, who was the quickest with words, immediately gave Nanny Qian’s arm a playful little shake. “Nanny, please don’t stand on ceremony with our Young Miss. And if you feel awkward, you can always make us girls a few extra outfits on the sly.”

Minglan smiled. “Look at this girl — I think she was a greedy little spirit reborn. Don’t mind her, Nanny.”

At that point, Danju came out of the inner room holding a small wrapped parcel, which she handed to Nanny Qian. Minglan looked at her with warm concern: “I heard you caught a spring cold a few days ago. They say the spring chill is the most treacherous kind. You’re not young anymore, and with all the hard work you put in, you must take care of your health. These are scraps left over from making Grandmother’s jacket — the brown golden-threaded reed-blossom velvet. Pieced together into a little sleeveless vest. If you don’t mind, wear it underneath; it’s warm and breathable.”

Nanny Qian accepted it with many words of thanks, sighing admiringly: “Everyone says the Sixth Young Miss is the most considerate, keeping all the maids in her courtyard well-fed and well-cared-for. Ah… Nanny Liu’s Jiu’er is the lucky one. Not like my own girl, who can’t get a place here.”

Minglan did not take up that thread, only smiled and offered some modest words. The group chatted and joked for a while. Before leaving, Nanny Qian handed the lacquered box to Luzhi. “These are some palace flowers — sent for the Young Miss.” Minglan quickly asked, “Do Fourth Sister and Fifth Sister have theirs?” Nanny Qian said they did. Minglan relaxed. “That’s good then.”

She opened the box to find five palace flowers inside: pale pink, pea green, sky-after-rain blue, rose purple, and crabapple red. Their petals were of fine silk gauze; their stamens, of velvet. They were vivid in color and delicately shaped.

Nanny Qian leaned in and murmured, “I set these aside for you especially, Young Miss — these aren’t the ones picked over by others.”

Minglan admired them. “These flowers are truly lovely. Thank you, Nanny. Where did they come from?”

Nanny Qian set down her tea bowl and explained with a smile: “The results were announced a few days ago — Pingning Junzhu’s son placed in the top several of the second tier of the imperial examinations. Yesterday, the Duke of Qi’s household held a few tables of banquet. I was invited and received these as a gift, which I’ve shared among the young ladies.”

Minglan’s expression remained unchanged, and she smiled along. “How wonderful — we ought to congratulate them. We’ve always been on good terms with Junzhu; she must be overjoyed. No wonder this morning when I went to pay respects, her cheeks were still flushed — she probably had a few cups too many yesterday.”

“Exactly.” Nanny Qian clapped her hands and laughed. “I was there myself and saw it all. Junzhu was most affectionate toward us — just like sisters. They had quite a long talk together in the inner room.”

Minglan’s gaze shifted subtly, and she asked with concern: “Last night I heard Fifth Sister came back to her rooms quite late, and it seems she had drunk rather a lot. I hope she wasn’t tending to Mother all on her own — ah, I didn’t even know. That’s truly unfilial of me.” She wore a look of worried regret.

Nanny Qian waved it off quickly. “It’s nothing serious — a cup of sobering broth set it right. She was simply so happy she asked Fifth Young Miss to come in for a chat.” Minglan let out a breath of apparent relief and smiled pleasantly. “Then I’m at ease.”

As Nanny Qian was about to leave, she leaned close to Minglan’s ear and said softly, “At the banquet yesterday, she also had a long conversation with the wife of the Yongchang Marquis. I caught a few words — it seemed they mentioned the young ladies of this household.”

Minglan’s heart gave a sudden jolt.

After seeing Nanny Qian out, some time passed before Luzhi came back in, lips puckered with complaint: “That Yancao is useless — couldn’t even keep a few little maids in order, let them fight over who got to take measurements first… Even Nanny Qian isn’t in favor anymore — why did Young Miss bother?”

Minglan looked at her quietly. Luzhi immediately drew her mouth shut and stood with head bowed. Danju came over and gave her nose a little pinch. “Don’t go running your mouth. Young Miss has her reasons. Just do your job properly.”

“Every blade of grass, every tree has its use,” Minglan said slowly. “Even an unremarkable person has value.” She looked at Luzhi. “Yancao has a gentle nature, but she entered service before you and has more experience. Do not underestimate her.”

Luzhi replied with a frightened murmur of agreement, pressing her feet together and curling her fingers, not daring to breathe too loudly. After a moment, Minglan softened her tone and added, “Anyone who is genuinely good to me, I always hold in regard. Yancao… is after all a few years your senior. You would do well to rein in that mouth of yours, and that temper.”

Luzhi turned the words over in her mind for a moment. Something seemed to dawn on her — her eyes lit up as she raised her head. “Young Miss, Luzhi understands.”

Once the maids had retired, Minglan sat in quiet thought for a moment, then took out several sheets of writing paper herself, spread them on the desk, considered briefly, lifted her brush, and began to write.

That evening, Sheng Hong had taken his meal at Xiang Yiniang’s quarters. Exhausted from days of social engagements, he had been about to simply stay the night — but Wang Shi had insisted on summoning him back. Arriving at the main chamber, he found his wife sitting upright on the edge of the kang. Middle-aged now, but with still-rosy cheeks, a faint delight at the corners of her eyes — Sheng Hong had been about to broach the topic of “rain and teacups,” since one couldn’t expect him to sleep with her every single night; the feelings of others had to be considered too. But before he could open his mouth, Wang Shi shut the door, and then launched into a rapid, tumbling account of something that left him struck dumb.

“What did you say? Betrothing Rulan to Qi Heng? Did Junzhu really say that?” Sheng Hong sat there in a daze for a moment before catching himself. “But — what about your family? Wasn’t Rulan to be matched with your elder brother’s side? The formal gift-giving was all but arranged.”

Wang Shi hesitated, but when she remembered the expression of dissatisfaction her sister-in-law had worn while looking at Rulan, she stiffened her voice: “It’s not as though the gift has been sent yet. Is it so strange that I’d want to find a better match for my own daughter?”

“Is Qi Heng really so good a match?” As a man, the first image that came into Sheng Hong’s mind was a vivid shade of green hovering over the Qi family rooftop.

Wang Shi lowered her voice and spoke with fervent calculation: “I’ve thought it through carefully — it’s a fine match. Whether or not the title comes to him is one thing, but at this age he already has his imperial examination degree, and his future is bright, with the Duke’s household behind him — steady as a mountain in drought or flood! And then there’s the Marquis of Xiangyang — he has no heir; his title must go to an adopted son. Beyond the ancestral property, all the wealth the Marquis has accumulated over these past few decades has already been progressively transferred to Junzhu. Not to mention Qi Daren — how lucrative do you think the salt administration post is? You know better than I do how many years he’s been the Superintendent of Transport. The silver must be piled up like mountains by now. And someday, won’t all of that go to Qi Heng? How could that day not be wonderful?”

Sheng Hong was half-blinded by the golden light blazing from Wang Shi’s eyes — he seemed to see countless silver coins flying about in them. Wang Shi was thinking with unusual clarity, laying it all out with crisp logic: “After the embarrassment the Qi family suffered just before the new year, Qi Heng’s reputation was bruised — it wasn’t appropriate to propose marriage right away. Junzhu mentioned this to me privately.”

Wang Shi lowered her voice further, in a tone of mystery: “Junzhu says the Emperor’s health… will last perhaps two more months. Once that happens, a household like ours will have to observe mourning for three years. After a year or two has passed, who will still remember the shameful affairs of the previous reign? Besides, Rulan still has another year before she comes of age — we can watch and wait.”

Sheng Hong slowly recovered his shrewdness. He turned the matter over carefully and said, “In this recent imperial examination, the Emperor has been slow to hold the palace examination — it’s said he’s waiting for the Eighth Prince to arrive in the capital before announcing the final rankings. Plainly, he intends to keep this crop of newly passed candidates in reserve for the new Emperor’s use. Perhaps Qi Heng truly does have something of a future ahead of him. The match may not be entirely out of the question… But what about my brother-in-law? How do we handle that?”

Wang Shi hesitated. “If the Emperor does… my elder brother is an official too; he’ll have to observe mourning. Let’s wait and see.”

Sheng Hong thought for a moment, then nodded.

Seeing her husband give his assent to her plans, Wang Shi grew more animated, and dropped another bombshell: “Yesterday at the banquet, I also ran into the wife of the Yongchang Marquis.”

Sheng Hong gave a sound of acknowledgment, yawning slightly as he leaned back against the headboard and began loosening his outer robe for Wang Shi to help put away. Wang Shi folded the clothing with nimble hands, smiling as she said, “Madam Liang hinted to me that she’s taken a liking to our Minglan!”

“What?! When did this happen?” Sheng Hong was suddenly wide awake, then sat bolt upright in alarm, keeping his voice low: “Grandmother has only been gone two months, and you’re already making plans for Minglan? She’s already promised to the He family!”

“Don’t be in such a panic — do you really think I’d do Minglan any harm? Just listen to me.” Wang Shi firmly pressed her husband back down, her face full of smiles. “I’ll tell you the truth — on the day of Quan Ge’er’s one-month celebration, at the relatives’ banquet, Madam Liang spotted Minglan at first glance and liked her straight away. She didn’t even mind that Minglan is from the lesser branch. She said plainly that the girl’s appearance is exceptional. The Yongchang Marquis Liang family — what sort of household is that? Their youngest son is still a legitimate-born son. Right now he’s working toward filling a vacancy as Deputy Commander of the Five-Battalion Regiment Headquarters, and even if that doesn’t come through, he has a position as a garrison commander in the Forbidden Guard. How is that? Wouldn’t this be a match Minglan can hold her head up about — far better than the He family?”

Sheng Hong very much wanted to hold to Grandmother’s decision, but thinking of the Liang family’s foundations and influence, he wavered.

Seeing her husband’s expression falter, Wang Shi added another piece of fuel to the fire: “Think about it too — a girl who looks as well as Minglan, matched with the He family? Isn’t that wasting her? If she could marry into the Qi family or the Liang family, wouldn’t that be a support for Changbai and the others in the future?” What truly mattered most to her, though she didn’t say so, was that Minglan had no full brothers of her own — apart from her own sons, what family backing could Minglan ever rely on?

Sheng Hong was moved. He bit down lightly on his lip and asked, “What is the young man’s character like? If Grandmother doesn’t agree, none of this amounts to anything.”

Wang Shi knew she had won half the battle. She softened her tone and put on a look of mild grievance. “Listen to you — as if I were selling my daughter for personal gain. Minglan has been well-behaved and dutiful around me these past years; her brothers are fond of her, sisters-in-law and she get along harmoniously, and she dotes on little Quan Ge’er. Of course I have her wellbeing at heart. As for the young man — his name is Liang Han. You can make your own inquiries about him, so no one can come back and say it was my doing.” She pouted, putting on an air of injured silence.

Sheng Hong quickly said what needed to be said to appease her, drew her close, and murmured a few things in her ear — until Wang Shi was smiling again.

“Here is what I think,” Wang Shi laid out her plan in full. “You look into it slowly, and figure out how to broach it. Wait until Grandmother comes back — then we can work on persuading her. You know her temperament. If Liang Han is found to be an acceptable person, I doubt Grandmother would hold hard and fast to the He family.”

Though Sheng Hong was tempted by the prospect of a match with the Liang family, the thought of having to persuade Grandmother filled him with a headache. Over the years he had complied with her in virtually everything without once defying her, and now again… He couldn’t help saying, “We’ve been in the capital all this time — has no one taken notice of Molan?”

If the Liang family had set their eyes on Molan, wouldn’t that resolve everything neatly? He wouldn’t have to worry either.

Wang Shi had just been loosening Sheng Hong’s belt, her movements coy and soft, when she heard this. Her expression changed at once, and she couldn’t suppress several cold little sounds through her nose. “My Lord! I’ll say something you may not want to hear: there’s nothing wrong with Molan’s qualities — but she and that one are cast from the same mold. Men may fancy that sort, but no respectable wife and mother of a great household can stand such a type.”

This time, Sheng Hong did not argue back. He could only sigh. Wang Shi cast a sidelong glance at his profile, and laughed coldly in her heart: no matter how cherished a concubine might be, over long years the passion cools and the feeling fades. Only title and legitimate heirs were reliable. It was only now, after all this time, that she had come to truly understand this truth.

And yet, for some reason, even in the wake of that satisfaction, her heart felt empty and desolate.