The lying-in-state had entered its seventh day, and everyone in the Hua household was exhausted to the bone.

Hua Jing was the most visibly worn of all. In only a matter of days she had grown visibly thinner, aged considerably, and — most strikingly — a scattering of white had appeared among her hair. Those with sharp eyes remarked admiringly on what dedicated filial devotion it showed.

Though that was not remotely the case, Hua Jing offered no explanation. She had chosen this bitter fruit herself — the praise that came with it, she was equally entitled to accept.

At the first ritual of the morning, Hua Zhi followed along as the monks chanted the rebirth mantra. Sheet after sheet of paper money burned slowly, casting a warm flush across her face.

As the chanting faded, she led her younger siblings in bowing to the presiding monks. The monks returned the bow in full, their manner toward her entirely that of how one would address a head of household — without the slightest condescension.

If at the start they had shown her deference out of deference to the Venerable Banruo, after several days of watching the Hua family’s affairs proceed with calm precision and without a single misstep under her quiet hand, they had come to recognize her from the bottom of their hearts.

Bailin personally escorted the monks to their morning meal. Hua Zhi looked at her younger siblings, their faces all drawn and listless, and felt a pang. “Liu Xiang, go tell Fu Dong to prepare some things the children enjoy eating. Keep within the proper customs.”

“Yes.”

“Nanny Su, arrange for them to go rest. Have them come back once they’ve eaten and recovered a little.”

Nanny Su signaled the personal maids and manservants of each young miss and young master to come forward and help them along. She then knelt softly beside Hua Zhi and murmured, “First Young Miss, go rest as well. This old servant will watch over things here.”

“It’s fine. I rested well last night.” Though it had only been two hours — enough for now. She had not been sleeping much lately, and what sleep she managed was not peaceful. The tension in her mind had been drawn too taut.

Nanny Su saw that the young miss appeared to be lost in thought as she slowly fed the fire, and chose not to disturb her. She turned aside and quietly wiped the corner of her eye, then picked up some paper money and burned it alongside her. The Old Madam had lived a life of wealth and comfort — she could not go to the underworld without money to spend.

Hua Zhi turned over in her mind the mental ledger she had been keeping these past few days, and the more she reviewed it, the heavier her heart grew. Of all the Hua family’s relatives and old connections, aside from her maternal family the Zhu family and her grandmother’s maternal family the Qin family — both of whom had come with considerable ceremony — the vast majority had simply sent a steward to offer a single stick of incense on their behalf.

When people leave, the tea grows cold. When people leave, the tea grows cold. But this — this had gone cold far too quickly.

Hua Zhi closed her eyes. Even Han Xin had endured the humiliation of crawling between a man’s legs. She could endure this as well. Time stretches long and roads run far. They would see.

After eating something hot and nourishing, and after a proper rest, the children who returned to the mourning hall had at last recovered some of their spirits.

Hua Zhi noticed Bailin quietly rubbing his knees. She drew him into her arms and gently massaged them for him. Bailin had always been close to this elder sister of his, and leaned against her, asking in a small voice, “Elder Sister, will we never be able to see Grandmother again?”

“That’s right. We will never see her again.”

“Then what will happen when Grandfather comes home? Grandmother is gone.”

Spoken in a child’s voice. A child’s simple words. And yet the truth they named cut straight to the marrow.

Hua Zhi felt grief crash over her like a wave from the open sea — vast and absolute — and the high wall she had built inside herself seemed to crumble in an instant. She suddenly bent forward. Bailin, pinned beneath her, dared not move, only called out softly, “Elder Sister.”

Hua Bailin rushed over to support her. Another brother carefully lifted Bailin out from her arms. The others crowded around a moment later, all of them looking at Hua Zhi with worry etched on their faces.

Right now, Hua Zhi was their sky. If the sky fell, the Hua family would truly be finished.

After a moment, Hua Zhi sat herself upright. Her expression was the same as always — only her voice had noticeably lost its usual clarity. “I suddenly felt dizzy. It’s nothing.”

Everyone let out a collective breath of relief. Hua Bailin did not believe a word of it — his elder sister, pressed against him just now, had clearly not even had the strength to hold herself straight.

He said nothing to expose it. He simply crouched down beside her and stayed there.

After another short while, Hua Zhi rose to her feet. “I am going to rest for a bit. Bailin, you—”

“First Young Miss — quickly — the Empress Dowager has sent someone!” Steward Xu came rushing over, supported by Xu Jie, his voice cracking from hoarseness yet unable to conceal his agitation.

Hua Zhi drew a deep breath. She swept the mourning hall with a single glance and gave her orders. “Nanny Su, gather everyone and give the hall another thorough tidying. Second Sister, all of you wait inside and do not come out — step forward to pay your respects only once the visitors have entered the hall. Bailin, bring your younger brothers with me.”

“But Elder Sister, you’re—”

“Even if I were on the verge of death right now, I would have to hold on until that last breath leaves my body.” She had never forgotten — it was the Empress Dowager who had first reached out to pull them back from the edge when the Hua family fell into ruin. Even now, the Empress Dowager’s sending someone here was not without its purpose of intimidating those who meant them ill.

Hua Zhi led her siblings and knelt at the outer gate. She watched as a small sedan chair stopped not far away, and an elderly female official was helped down by palace maids. The official straightened her attire, then led four palace maids — each carrying a lacquered box — and walked toward the front gate with a solemn bearing.

“Hua Zhi of the Hua family, leading the Hua family’s descendants in paying respects to the honored official.”

In the Great Qing dynasty, female palace officials could indeed be addressed as “honored official.” The female official extended a hand and raised her with a gesture. “Please rise. This servant is Yuxiang. Acting on the Empress Dowager’s instructions on Her Ladyship’s behalf, I am here to offer incense before the spirit of Old Madam Hua. Please lead the way.”

“Yes.” Hua Zhi rose, her every movement so precisely correct that even those trained in the palace could find no fault with it. Yuxiang gave an inward nod, her estimation of the Hua family rising another degree.

A family need not fear falling into hardship, so long as they still had the spirit to endure. There was always the possibility of rising again. What a family had to fear was descendants without spine — who could not hold the line, who had lost their nerve, and with it the very right to walk among the great households.

From small signs, great things could be discerned. This was clearly not a family that would fall to such a fate.

Yuxiang offered incense with reverence, then had the palace maids transfer all four boxes into Hua Zhi’s hands. “These have been bestowed by the Empress Dowager, to serve as burial accompaniments for the Old Madam. Take good care of them.”

“Yes. Your servant will remember.”

Yuxiang did not inquire as to why the household’s daughter-in-law was absent and a young unmarried girl was managing all affairs in her stead. Such matters were no secret to the imperial household. She folded her hands in a gesture of respect toward the Venerable Banruo, offered not a single further word to Hua Zhi, and departed — her arrival abrupt, her departure swift.

Yet their coming was itself a declaration. It told all the world that the Empress Dowager had not forgotten the Hua family. It was the Empress Dowager’s protection — fulfilling the bond of sisterhood she had shared with the Old Madam of the Hua family.

Yet Hua Zhi was equally clear-eyed: this protection had its limits. If the Hua family could not stand on its own, the Empress Dowager would not shield them for a lifetime.

She lowered her gaze to the four lacquered boxes of varying sizes, sealed shut in her arms, and set them one by one beside her grandmother.

Bailin had been at his elder sister’s side throughout. He now murmured softly, “Elder Sister, go rest. I will watch over things here.”

Hua Zhi gave a faint nod and let Ying Chun help her toward her own courtyard.

She was not tired. She simply wanted to find somewhere quiet to sit alone for a while — to think. To think about what was to be done when Grandfather returned home, and Grandmother was no longer there.