Snow had begun to fall more heavily.

Hua Zhi came out of the courtyard, passed through the inner gate into the front yard, and all the way, everyone she encountered bowed deeply to her.

By now the entire Hua Family household was draped in white mourning cloth, a sea of pale wherever the eye fell.

The front gate stood wide open. Chen Nanny stood there burning paper, tears streaming steadily down her face, unaware that her cheeks were streaked with black and white.

Outside, people were peering in. Hua Zhi guessed they were either allies or adversaries — but she paid them no mind. Right now, nothing mattered more than what she was about to do.

Xu Jie stood wearing mourning dress, holding a horse. The carriage, too, was hung with mourning cloth. He bowed as he saw the Young Miss approach.

Hua Zhi took in the two carriages and curved her lips coldly. “One is enough.”

“Yes.”

Hua Zhi boarded the carriage, then lifted the curtain to address Nian Qiu, who had insisted on coming. “You stay here. Have someone set up a small awning outside — nothing large, just big enough for one person.”

Nian Qiu could not bear to be left behind and was about to protest, but a single look from her mistress silenced her completely. She had never seen the Young Miss like this before — no raised voice, no change in expression, yet she could not bring herself to say another word.

Hua Zhi turned to the four stout servant women she had specifically chosen for this trip, all of them dressed in mourning white. “I am sorry to trouble you today.”

“Young Miss need not worry — we may not have much else, but strength we have plenty.”

Hua Zhi nodded. “Let us go.”

When Hua Jing married into the Song Family, it had been considered something of a match beneath her. At the time the Song Family held only a fifth-rank post, but the Old Madam had approved of them as a family of scholars and scholars’ sons — Song Master was not highly ranked, but he was upright in character, and Song Zhengzu had passed the provincial examinations on his own merit, which was genuinely promising for a young man.

But she had not foreseen that people change. It takes little time for an upright man to become worldly, and a promising young man who has yet to achieve anything by middle age tends to sink into mediocrity — and from there into the depths.

By now Song Master had reached the rank of senior third grade. Had the Hua Family not fallen, Hua Jing would still have had the run of the Song household. Regrettably, the sky does not always hold.

Hua Zhi stepped down from the carriage and looked up at the Song Family’s imposing gate with cold composure. If they wanted to see the Hua Family’s disgrace, they would need her permission first.

“Xu Jie.”

“Yes, Young Miss.”

“Go knock on the door. Tell the gatekeepers that the Hua Family has come with a death notice and requests that the Hua Family’s First Aunt return home at once to observe mourning.”

Hua Zhi’s voice rang out clearly enough for everyone nearby to hear, and once they understood who had died, an uproar broke out. The Hua Family was truly suffering blow after blow — their men exiled, and now the only elder propping up the household was gone too. What would become of all those women and children?

The Song Family’s gatekeepers dared not delay. One stayed outside to attend to the visitors while the other ran inside with the news.

At this moment, Hua Jing was locked in a battle of wills with her mother-in-law. The Song Old Madam had spent years crushed beneath her daughter-in-law’s thumb, and had recently managed to turn the tables, devising all manner of ways to torment Hua Jing. But Hua Jing was no pushover either, and the household had been in a constant state of war between them — so much so that her husband found every excuse to stay away.

When the gatekeeper came with the news, Hua Jing’s mind went utterly blank. How could this — how could this be—

The Song Old Madam, however, felt a surge of quiet satisfaction. With the last pillar of support gone, she would like to see how Hua Jing kept fighting her now.

Still, she kept up appearances, dabbing at the corner of her eye with theatrical sorrow. “How suddenly it came to this — oh, Jing’er, you should go back and help out.”

Hua Jing’s first instinct was not to go. She was afraid.

She could not lie to herself and pretend her mother’s sudden passing had nothing to do with her — well, it truly had nothing to do with her. Her mother had been gravely ill already. It had nothing to do with her.

Twisting her handkerchief, Hua Jing said, “Let your daughter-in-law prepare a few things first. There is no rush.”

The gatekeeper quickly added, “The Hua Family’s people are waiting outside, Madam. They asked that you return immediately.”

The Song Old Madam, afraid that her daughter-in-law might strip the Song household bare to bring things to her family, jumped in at once. “The Hua Family must be in chaos right now. As their eldest daughter, they are counting on you. Go quickly. Whatever you need to prepare, tell me and I’ll have someone send it over later.”

Hua Jing ground her teeth in fury, but there was nothing she could do. In the Daqing dynasty, filial piety was above all else. If she refused to return for her own mother’s funeral, the Song Family would have every right to repudiate her with a letter of divorce.

“I would not dare trouble you, Mother. Your daughter-in-law will go change her clothes and be on her way.”

Hua Jing dragged her feet changing, then rubbed her eyes forcefully until they were red. Haunted by guilt, she decided not to bring her children — and did not even dare bring her personal maid, fearing that anything spoken in the Hua household might get out and damage her reputation.

Outside, the crowd — curious observers both visible and half-hidden — grew restless after the long wait, exchanging murmurs. Yet Hua Zhi stood utterly composed, her back straight throughout, her expression as calm as still water.

To those in the capital, she was an unfamiliar face. People could only guess from her dress that she was one of the Hua daughters — but she was clearly not Hua Xin or Hua Ling, who had some literary reputation. In appearance she seemed close to their age. People began to suspect she might be the Hua Family’s eldest daughter, who had rarely been seen in public.

Looking at her bearing now, she seemed far from timid — which only made it more puzzling why she had never been seen out and about all these years.

Amid the murmuring and speculation, Hua Jing finally appeared. She rushed out from inside, eyes red, and upon seeing Hua Zhi, quickly concealed the flash of surprise that crossed her face. Before she could speak, tears were already falling.

“Zhier, Mother — Mother—”

Hua Zhi gave a formal bow. “Grandmother has passed.”

“Ohh—” Hua Jing covered her mouth and wept with the elegance of pear blossoms in rain, heartbreaking to behold.

Hua Zhi turned and boarded the carriage. Hua Jing’s weeping broke off abruptly, then resumed. Surely she should have been invited to board the carriage first?

“By custom, a daughter who has married out must weep and wail all the way home to observe mourning. I would not want to break with custom — and I imagine Aunt feels the same.”

“…” Hua Jing was accustomed to ruling over her family with an iron hand, and her brow shot up at once in anger — but then she remembered where she was standing, and she stepped closer, hissing through clenched teeth, “It is snowing right now—”

“To weep through the wind and snow all the way home — would that not show how devoted a daughter Aunt is?” Hua Zhi let the curtain fall. “Let us go.”

Before Hua Jing could say another word, the four stout servant women had quietly closed in around her, nudging her forward without being obvious about it — to any onlooker, it appeared she was walking of her own accord.

Hua Zhi’s calm voice drifted out from the carriage. “Aunt — remember to cry. Everyone is watching.”

“Hua Zhi!” Hua Jing called out in a low, furious hiss. “Is this any way to treat your own aunt?”

“Aunt taught me well. I am still far behind her.”

“Hua Zhi!”

“Let us go.” The carriage kept a steady, unhurried pace beside Hua Jing. Hua Zhi did not fear being called disrespectful to her elders. She did not fear anyone invoking filial duty against her. If one bad reputation could end Hua Jing’s comfortable life, she was more than willing.

What she was about to do had only just begun.