Perhaps because Hua Zhi’s manner was so warm and open, the words that had been circling in Hua Qin’s heart for days rushed out of her mouth: “Elder cousin, if one day my husband’s family treats me badly, will you come and bring me home — the way you went to the Yang Family to bring Second Paternal Aunt back?”

“I will.”

How much weight can a single word carry? To Hua Qin, it felt heavier than everything she had ever known combined. Her elder cousin spoke it without a moment’s hesitation, her smile never dimming — resolute and ringing as struck iron, meeting fully that small hope she had not dared show to anyone.

She did not fear bearing the responsibilities of a daughter of the Hua Family. She did not fear being said to carry a burdensome maternal home on her back. What she feared was that when she needed them, her family would have no place for her.

Looking at the handkerchief held out before her, Hua Qin only then realized that at some point, her face had become wet with tears.

Seeing her in a daze, Hua Zhi simply pulled her round stool closer and sat down beside her, gently wiping away tears that seemed to flow without end. “I said before — a daughter married out of the Hua Family is not water poured away. Her family will do everything in its power to be her support. That holds not only for our own line, but equally for yours. We shared in prosperity together, and were exiled together when the family fell. There is no reason you should ever be treated differently.”

Hua Qin’s tears came faster. “I am simply afraid.”

Afraid of being subjected to violence, as Second Paternal Aunt had been. Afraid of a husband who held no affection for her. Afraid of failing to produce a son. Afraid of being of no help to her family. Afraid that her mother and younger brother would fare poorly. Her fears were endless — as if the moment she left home, she would be a duckweed without roots, adrift.

Hua Zhi understood perfectly. Pre-marital anxiety, plain and simple — made worse by the Hua Family’s fall, leaving her without confidence, feeling as though she had reached above herself and ought to diminish herself to nothing.

“Younger cousin, if you enter your husband’s home with that kind of disposition, I fear the very things you dread may well come to pass.”

Hua Qin looked up, eyes blurred with tears, her face a picture of dismay.

Hua Zhi wrung the thoroughly soaked handkerchief and gave up trying to use it. Instead, she slipped into the role of counselor. “Is the Hua Family so inferior?”

Hua Qin shook her head without a second thought. Had the Hua Family not fallen, marrying into the Cai Family — which held only a fourth-rank sinecure — would have been considered marrying beneath her station.

“Don’t keep fixating on what the Hua Family has become. That they were willing to go through with this match after the family’s downfall means one of three things: either your intended has genuine feelings for you, or the Cai Family are people of integrity who honor their commitments, or perhaps it has nothing to do with personal sentiment at all — they simply refused to be the sort of people who break their word. Whichever it is, it shows at the very least that the Cai Family are not without conscience or decency. The family’s situation has been laid bare before them without any concealment, and yet they made this choice — they must have given it thorough consideration. If they themselves do not mind, why must you constantly feel you stand a head shorter than they do?”

Hua Zhi offered a small smile. “The founding empress of this dynasty was nothing more than a private schoolmaster’s daughter, and did she not live in harmony with the founding emperor for several decades? And do not forget — in the years when the Hua Family had daughters of marriageable age, matchmakers came to the door in droves. What the great families valued was not solely the Hua Family’s standing; more often, it was the refinement that Hua daughters absorbed simply from growing up in such a household. In the matter of raising fine children, this advantage would be felt for generations. The Cai Family understood this clearly, and so the engagement stands. Those who chose to withdraw their proposals were simply shortsighted people. I feel no sorrow on behalf of our cousins who were released from those arrangements.”

Hua Qin listened so intently she forgot to go on crying.

She had never heard this way of thinking before, and yet it struck her as entirely sound. Hua Family sons began their studies at four, entered the clan school at six. But Hua Family daughters were taught to read by the age of five — composing a modest poem or a brief lyric was no great challenge for any of them.

They were also taught household management and accounting. Needlework and the like required only a basic proficiency. But the four arts — music, chess, calligraphy, and painting — were mandatory for every daughter, the only difference being the level they reached.

It could not be said that every Hua daughter had exceptional talent, but none of them could be compared to those young women who spent all their energy scheming within the inner courts.

And did she possess those arts?

A new light came into Hua Qin’s eyes. She did. She knew music, chess, calligraphy, and painting — all of them. She simply had her stronger suits, that was all.

“Then in what way do you truly stand a head shorter?”

Hua Qin rose and gave a deep, deliberate bow. “Elder cousin, what you have said today I will keep in my heart always.”

“It is not so solemn as all that. Just don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“I know now what I must do.”

This being her first time playing counselor, and meeting with such results, Hua Zhi was in good spirits. Hua Qin had barely taken her leave before Hua Zhi sent Ying Chun after her with a bank note for five thousand taels — the largest sum she could currently put to use.

With that money, one could furnish a respectable residence, or purchase several good shopfronts and earn a steady income from rent. However it was used, it would at least give her something of substance to stand on.

She made no attempt to conceal this expenditure from anyone, though when it was entered into the accounts, it was recorded under her own personal name.

When Wu Shi came to exchange and hand over household matters, she remarked: “Putting it through the household account wouldn’t raise any objections — and even those with objections would have to swallow them. Most of us daughters-in-law have daughters of our own. If nothing else, we’d stay quiet for our own children’s sake. You don’t need to carry this alone.”

“I have no dowry to save up for, and I doubt I’ll have any large personal expenditures in the future. It makes no difference.”

Wu Shi gave her a reproachful look. “Needlessly generous. Now that you’ve set this precedent, you’ll have to be scrupulously even-handed — no showing favorites.”

Hua Zhi laughed. “Rest assured, Fourth Aunt — even if you had no daughters yourself, I’d count the share for your sons, Bailin and the others alike. I will be perfectly fair.”

“You know how to sweet-talk me. Go and add up how many weddings and marriages there are across all these households combined, and then see if you’ll still be smiling.”

Hua Zhi was entirely unbothered. Right now she could spare five thousand taels; in time, her channels for generating income would only multiply, and this sum would amount to nothing.

She had said it before — making money was not difficult for her. What was difficult was spending it with efficiency and purpose.

With all preparations for the journey settled, and no pressing matters immediately at hand, Hua Zhi had the rare sensation of having stolen a half-day of leisure for herself. Remembering that Bailin had stopped by at noon to share a meal with A’Jian and mentioned that the afternoon lesson would be conducted by Sui An, she calculated the time and rose to go over.

She had barely stepped into the courtyard when she spotted Shao Yao striding back in with an enormous sack slung over her shoulder, followed by several Hua Family manservants, each carrying or cradling their own load of various medicinal herbs, the mingled aromas assaulting the nose from several paces away.

“Huahua.” Spotting her, Shao Yao freed one hand and waved.

Hua Zhi looked at her — perfectly at ease treating herself like a pack mule, and the others apparently well-accustomed to it — and could not quite find the words. “Has the Hua Family run out of people who can do things?”

“None of them are as strong as me. Huahua, wait for me.” Shao Yao jogged into her dispensary with the enormous sack, which looked nearly as big as she was, directed the several less-mighty manservants in putting the herbs away one by one, then pressed a small bottle into each of their hands. “Kidney-strengthening tonic — works wonderfully. Don’t waste it.”

Hua Zhi: “……”

The maids: “……”

Several manservants, faces flushed a deep, mortified red: “……”