A titled conferment, also known as a conferment document, was commonly called a “sacred edict” by ordinary people because it was bestowed by the Emperor himself.

With the imperial grace already arrived, the Pei family stepped forward to offer obeisance and receive the edict.

Two officials from the Ministry of Rites slowly unrolled the conferment document, which was woven of silk tapestry. It measured one foot in width and three to four feet in length, divided from left to right into five color sections — brown-yellow, grey, pale yellow, deep yellow, and middle green — with the whole tending toward gold and woven throughout with auspicious cloud patterns.

The golden embroidery was both magnificent and solemnly dignified.

At the top of the scroll, against a blue background with white markings, two dragons — one ascending, one descending — coiled around the seal-script characters “Edict Received from Heaven.”

The proclamation official took his place before the document and began reading the imperial edict aloud: “His Majesty, who has received the Mandate of Heaven and succeeded to the throne, hereby decrees: We are diligent in selecting men of talent and virtue. All those of penetrating insight and broad judgment, who have driven off foreign threats and secured peace within, We shall certainly honor and reward. You, Pei Bingyuan, Scholar of the Imperial Academy, who first served as Magistrate of Yuchong County in Dongyang Prefecture, Northern Metropolitan Region, and second served as Prefectural Magistrate of Taicang Prefecture in the Southern Metropolitan Region — in each office your performance was praised and your governance celebrated; your civil and martial qualities together were more than sufficient…”

The proclamation first lavished praise upon the accomplishments of Pei Bingyuan’s earlier years.

A formal conferment document was always drafted by the Hanlin Academy, then reviewed and revised by the Grand Secretaries of the Inner Cabinet, before finally being transcribed and sealed with the Emperor’s imperial jade seal. For this reason, such documents were somewhat obscure and difficult to understand upon first hearing.

The proclamation official continued reading: “…Your accomplishments and reputation have spread far and wide; therefore, in extending Our grace, We hereby confer upon you the rank of Senior Grand Master for Meritorious Counsel, and present this conferment document. Respect this!”

As a wife was to receive honor in accordance with her husband’s, the proclamation official then turned to recite the portion granting blessings to the female members of the family: “It is decreed: The rites place great importance upon the official wife, whose refinement and virtue adorn the inner chambers. You, Ning Shi, wife of Pei Bingyuan, Scholar of the Imperial Academy — your gentle voice is now departed and beyond reach, yet your devoted bearing grows ever more evident; therefore you are posthumously conferred the title of Honored Lady.”

For the living it is a bestowal; for the departed it is a posthumous conferment.

In order to confer upon Lin Shi the title of an outer court lady, the principles of propriety required that Ning Shi first be posthumously conferred the title of Honored Lady.

The proclamation then declared further: “…You, Lin Shi, wife of Pei Bingyuan, Scholar of the Imperial Academy — your wifely virtues are manifest and orderly; as a mother your moral example is sagely and admirable. In following your husband you embody the spirit of carrying earth by the basketful; in loving your children you encourage the instruction of shaping character through patient craft… Therefore you are hereby conferred the title of Honored Lady. Respect this!”

The praise directed at Lin Shi not only honored her as a virtuous wife, but also commended her as a fine mother, crediting her with the virtue of following her husband and loving her children — these few lines were well worth pondering at length.

And with that, the full text of the conferment document had been proclaimed and sung.

“Your subject — your subject-wife — receives the edict and gives thanks for His Majesty’s profound grace,” the Pei family said in unison.

With the exception of Shaohuai and Shaojin, who were both at court, everyone else was present.

“Congratulations, Scholar Pei,” the proclamation official said, presenting the rolled conferment document with both hands to Pei Bingyuan.

“You have taken great trouble, Your Excellency.”

After the Ministry of Rites officials departed, the Jingying Earl’s residence was filled with festive joy, and before long congratulatory gifts began to arrive from one household after another.

When Lian Jie’er received the news, she hurried over from the Xu residence, her eyes rimmed red — it was clear she had already wept on the way there. The moment she saw Lin Shi, she began to cry again, choked with emotion, and said through her tears, “Mother — your daughter is grateful to you…”

Lin Shi had married into the Earl’s residence when Lian Jie’er was already past ten years of age, old enough to understand a great many things. Sensitive by nature, she had always had her own private feelings about it. As the years passed, Lian Jie’er had reached middle age, and Lin Shi had already begun showing white in her hair. In all those twenty-some years, this pair of “mother and daughter” who had come together mid-way had never once had an unpleasant falling out — because there had always been a mutual consideration between them. Lin Shi had pitied the sisters for losing their birth mother at such a tender age, left without comfort or care; Lian Jie’er had sympathized with Lin Shi for entering as a second wife, for the role of a stepmother was never easy.

Lin Shi wiped away Lian Jie’er’s tears and offered comfort: “Don’t cry now. The proper thing is to send someone to Jizhou to inform Lan Jie’er and ask her to come back in the coming days.” That way the two sisters could offer incense together to comfort their departed mother.

Lian Jie’er, still unable to hold back her tears, nodded.

After the whole family had shared a merry midday meal together, Lin Shi had only just returned to her room when Pei Bingyuan came in from the ancestral hall, carrying the conferment document with him.

“Why has the master brought the imperial edict into the room?” Lin Shi asked.

Pei Bingyuan said nothing, only smiled, and spread the document open on the long table. With a faint air of mystery, he guided Lin Shi to sit before it.

He pushed open the window, and the light fell upon the golden silk tapestry, sending a brilliant dazzle across the room, bright enough to make the eyes water.

Only then did Pei Bingyuan speak. “In all these years, my wife has worked tirelessly to support her husband and raise the children. This conferment document today is yours.”

Lin Shi, knowing only that an official’s wife received her title in accordance with her husband’s achievements, replied, “I am simply basking in the master’s reflected glory.”

Pei Bingyuan shook his head and said with a smile, “If it were merely basking in my reflected glory, the conferment document would not have been written in this way.” He stated with certainty, “In my view, this conferment was sought from the Emperor by Huai’er.”

He then sat down beside Lin Shi and, pointing to the document, began to explain it to her line by line — what allusions were used, what each passage meant. “My wife, look here — this line, ‘in loving your children you encourage the instruction of shaping character through patient craft,’ draws upon the Tang dynasty allusion of ‘shaping pills to teach the child.’ The mother of Tang official Liu Zhongyong was of pure and upright character and knew well how to guide her son in learning. Whenever her son was listless and unwilling to study at night, she would take the bitterest medicinal herbs — things like ku shen and huang lian — grind them into pills, and have her son chew them in his mouth, so that tasting bitterness would make him think of the sweetness it could lead to. It was this that shaped Liu Zhongyong’s scholarship and talent. These lines are praising my wife for her pure character and her skill in raising the children well.”

“In just those few short characters, there is so much meaning within,” Lin Shi said, delighted and astonished at once.

This was, after all, a commendation from the Son of Heaven himself.

“It is, of course, from the hand of the Hanlin Academy,” Pei Bingyuan said. “And from the nature of this praise, it is clearly connected to Huai’er.”

For the entire long afternoon, Lin Shi sat just like that, leaning gently against her husband’s side, listening as he explained each line to her one by one — and finding herself often distracted from what he was actually saying, too occupied with watching the way he looked as he explained it.

The conferment document was obscure and difficult to follow, and listening to the allusions was sometimes rather dry — yet that quiet and unhurried afternoon made Lin Shi feel a peace and ease beyond all description.

As dusk was approaching, Pei Shaohuai returned to his own small courtyard after leaving his post, changed his clothes, and sat holding Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng and playing with them while he listened to Yang Shiyue tell him about the day’s proclamation ceremony.

And then he looked up to see his mother come sweeping in to “call him to account.”

Pei Shaohuai held Xiao Nan out toward her, intending to use the boy to soften his mother’s “fire,” and said, “Xiao Nan — quickly hold out your arms so Grandmother can hold you.” Xiao Nan obediently spread his little arms open, waiting for his grandmother to take him.

Lin Shi took Xiao Nan into her arms, and sure enough, even the edge of her scolding voice softened a little. “You knew about this long in advance — why did you not say a word to me beforehand?” she said.

“Was your child not trying to give his mother a pleasant surprise?” Pei Shaohuai said with a playful laugh.

“It was a pleasant surprise, alright — and quite a shock too.”

She had thought the honor was meant for some other household, and then the imperial edict had suddenly appeared at the very gate — how could she not have been startled with absolutely no preparation?

Pei Shaohuai said many flattering and pleasing things to make amends, and with Xiao Feng working hard throughout to be endearingly mischievous and coax Lin Shi into laughter, the matter was at last put to rest.

Lin Shi said, “Next time, you are not to do anything like this again.”

From the side, Yang Shiyue chimed in, “Mother, rest easy — this official would not dare do it again.” Then she teased her husband, “This official had better do good work at court — only then can there be a ‘next time’ quickly enough to make up for this.”

This time, Lin Shi’s title had followed her husband’s rank. Next time, with her son’s achievements, Lin Shi’s rank could be elevated further still.

Pei Shaohuai laughed and answered, “Shiyue is right — I must make up for this transgression with good deeds.”

Everyone laughed together, and Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng kicked their little legs and waved their small hands, joining merrily in the cheer.

Seven days later, Lan Jie’er received her elder sister’s letter and hurried back to the capital with her two daughters, going straight to the Earl’s residence as soon as she entered the city.

Lian Jie’er had come as well.

Lian Jie’er seemed to know already what was about to happen, and had asked Yang Shiyue beforehand to send the servants away.

Lin Shi welcomed Lan Jie’er back from the border city with joy — but she found her arriving with her hair unadorned and unpinned, wearing plain undyed clothes. Lan Jie’er entered the main hall, spread a straw mat before Lin Shi, and knelt upon it. “Your daughter has committed a grave wrong,” she said, “and has never formally acknowledged her fault. Today, your daughter has come to a true and sincere understanding of her error, and earnestly asks for Mother’s forgiveness.”

Kneeling on the plain mat as one awaiting punishment, her words came from the heart.

“Child, what is the meaning of all this?” Lin Shi hurried over to help Lan Jie’er to her feet. “This is all from more than ten years ago. You came to know your fault and acknowledged it long since, and I never once held it against you — what need is there today for such a formal show of remorse?”

She added, “So long as you and your second husband are well, and all of us in this family are well — that is enough.”

Lan Jie’er remained kneeling and refused to rise.

Lian Jie’er walked over and guided Lin Shi to sit down, saying, “Mother, let her finish what she has to say.”

More than ten years ago, Lan Jie’er had been young and ignorant, and had secretly met with a young scholar named Wu Langzi. Had Lin Shi not intervened — and had she not later encountered Situ the Second — Lan Jie’er would have fallen into a grave mistake.

Lan Jie’er spoke with feeling: “Before, I only understood that meeting him secretly was wrong, and that I had nearly brought ruin upon my brothers and sisters. But I never understood the depth of Mother’s intentions — that you were thinking of my welfare at every turn, and that I had failed and wasted that goodwill.” She continued, “Now that Si Jie’er and Yun Jie’er are reaching the age I was then, and it is my turn to plan for their futures with a long view, and setting my heart to know yours — I understand all the more how terribly I was wrong back then. It troubles me even in the night.”

Only then did Lin Shi notice that Lan Jie’er had brought both her eldest and second daughters back with her. They were standing just outside the hall at that moment, watching their mother acknowledge her fault.

The eldest daughter, Si Jie’er, was already twelve years old. She clutched a handkerchief in her hand, her eyes red, holding back her tears with great effort.

Lan Jie’er continued: “Your daughter knows that only coming to reflect upon this fault today is already far too late… But if I do not make this acknowledgment today, I fear I will never have the moral standing to raise and guide my children — and Si Jie’er and Yun Jie’er will fall into the same reckless willfulness and mistakes that I once did.”

Lin Shi went over once more and helped Lan Jie’er to her feet. “I understand your sincerity,” she said. “I forgive you — now please rise.”

The moment Pei Ruolan had barely sat down, the daughter who had been watching from outside the hall came running in and knelt before her mother, her head bowed, saying softly, “Mother — your daughter was wrong. Your daughter would never dare do it again.”

Pei Ruolan was already weeping without restraint.

Only looking more closely now did Lin Shi notice that Lan Jie’er appeared far more haggard and worn than the last time she had come home. Her heart filled with conjecture — something must have happened involving Si Jie’er.

Later, when they spoke in private, she learned what had taken place. Si Jie’er had very nearly committed the same grave mistake her mother had once nearly made.

It turned out that Situ the Second had spent years guarding the frontier and earned distinguished service — by now he had risen to become a third-rank general at Shanhai Pass, and Pei Ruolan’s household was considered one of the most prominent families in Jizhou.

Situ the Second was a military man through and through. He spent his days leading his troops at the garrison passes, and whenever he came home, feeling guilty about his absence and wanting to make it up to them, he could not help but indulge his two daughters somewhat excessively.

Pei Ruolan was left at home alone to manage the discipline of three children — and there were lapses in her guidance, and blind spots too. Si Jie’er had long been fond of going to the theater to watch opera performances, and Pei Ruolan had not restrained her. As a result, one visit led to another, and Si Jie’er had ended up exchanging meaningful glances with an opera performer.

Fortunately, Situ the Second had kept informants in the city, who had reported the matter to him early on, so no grave mistake had come to pass.

How uncannily similar it was to what had happened more than ten years ago.

Situ the Second could not stay at home for long — as the commanding general, he had to return to the front after only a few days. Pei Ruolan confined Si Jie’er to the house and reasoned with her hundreds upon hundreds of times, yet could not bring her daughter to understand.

How could she make her daughter acknowledge a fault when she herself had never properly acknowledged her own?

And so when the same thing happened again, with the roles reversed, Lan Jie’er thought and regretted more with every moment, thought and felt more ashamed — and it had led to this scene today.