In Mo Zi’s eyes as a modern person, Third Mistress Qiu was not a woman without her own opinions, but she was good at employing people, willing to accept good advice without harboring jealousy, had far-reaching vision, and knew when to advance and when to retreat. Therefore, the maids around her had aspects where they surpassed her.
If it were a different master, they would absolutely not tolerate servants and maids bossing them around. Even if there was the slightest hint of overstepping the master’s authority through self-important cleverness, they would be extremely vigilant, finding ways to grind away their spirit. Those less cruel-hearted would have the matchmaker take such people away and find honest, sensible replacements to slowly cultivate.
Yet Mo Zi was someone Third Mistress Qiu rarely encountered who she couldn’t fully fathom, yet was reluctant to discard. Not only because of those hands skilled with both left and right, but also because of a cleverness and quick wit that even Third Mistress Qiu had to admire with a sigh.
Mo Zi seemed to harbor many mysteries, but fortunately she was dutiful and sensible, doing her proper work in her proper position. For Third Mistress Qiu, this was quite usable. But for how long would she be usable? Since entering the Qiu Mansion, Mo Zi had been consistently quiet and well-behaved. Third Mistress Qiu prided herself on having sharp eyes, so she too observed quietly.
At this moment, Mo Zi mentioned Ninth Miss.
Third Mistress Qiu thought—what an exquisite mind.
“Have Lu Ju accompany me there.” Third Mistress Qiu stood up. “If she continues watching the gate, she’ll probably complain behind my back about my favoritism.”
“I’ll call Bai He and Xiao Yi back.” Mo Zi looked at the sky. “At most half a shichen.”
“Everyone hurry there and back—I still have to dress formally.” Third Mistress Qiu laughed lightly twice.
Mo Zi called Lu Ju in to attend to her, then left the courtyard herself.
The Qiu family was one of the top merchant households in Yangzhou, having been extremely wealthy for five generations now. How they made their fortune, Mo Zi wasn’t entirely clear. How they were declining from prosperity to decay—that she could see.
The enormous Qiu Mansion, everywhere carved beams and painted rafters, corridors winding nine turns, green lakes and jade bridges, unusual rocks and beautiful gardens—extravagance that ordinary common people outside couldn’t even imagine—was now living off its old capital.
Master Qiu’s health had deteriorated day by day these past two years. Supplemented and sustained by precious medicinal ingredients, it was like a bottomless pit that couldn’t be filled with vital energy. The only capable person who could manage the shops and business, Third Mistress Qiu, had been called home by Zhang Shi at the beginning of the year. Mostly it was this lady—elevated from concubine to proper wife—who whispered pillow talk, and with one word Master Qiu took back the account books and storeroom keys from his daughter’s hands, handing them to Zhang Shi’s two sons.
When Zhang Shi received the account books and keys, she held Third Mistress Qiu’s hand, speaking those words about her hard work with such genuine sincerity. Turning around, she called her sons and daughters-in-law to her courtyard to discuss matters for half the day. The silk and satin business was given to Fourth Master, the tea and rice shop business to Fifth Master. She kept one set of household storeroom keys herself, Fourth Madam got one set, while Fifth Madam managed the daily household purchases.
Fortunately, Master Qiu had no more concubines, only three secondary consorts who couldn’t be entered in the family register. Second Concubine and Third Concubine bore daughters. Fourth Concubine did bear a son, but illegitimate sons in this social system couldn’t obtain much property, and some even had to rely on their legitimate brothers for support. Moreover, Zhang Shi was skilled in scheming, controlling the three women tightly through both kindness and authority, so they normally didn’t even dare breathe loudly.
Therefore, the Qiu family was essentially divided between Zhang Shi’s two sons.
Mo Zi figured that for those two unlearned wastrels to discover problems in the account books would take at least a year or a year and a half.
Though her mind was full of thoughts, her steps were neither hurried nor slow. From a secluded corner along the lakeside, winding through the apricot grove, she headed toward the main courtyard kitchen.
Whenever Bai He wasn’t on duty, she would plunge straight into the kitchen to learn cooking from her godmother. She had also traveled with Third Mistress Qiu, tasting northern and southern cuisines and learning them all—her cooking skills were excellent. However, under Third Mistress’s service, she wasn’t a cook but a senior managing maid, overseeing Mo Zi and the other two, also responsible for attending to the trivial matters around Third Mistress. As for cooking, it was like how Lu Ju loved embroidering handkerchiefs and sachets when she had nothing to do, Xiao Yi loved climbing trees, Mo Zi loved playing with wood—just a hobby.
It was peak blooming season, with pale pink apricot blossoms opening on the branches. When the wind blew, a flock of white butterflies took flight. Three days ago, Zhang Shi had hosted a banquet here to view the flowers. Three days later, lazy maids still hadn’t cleaned up properly. The air retained the slightly sour smell of leftover wine.
Having just been lively earlier, now under the bright sun, besides Mo Zi, there were no other figures. She focused on avoiding broken cups and cold broth underfoot. When a rockery suddenly blocked her path ahead, she realized she had deviated from her direction and arrived near Pinglan Garden.
Pinglan Garden wasn’t far from the main courtyard kitchen, but required walking an extra stretch through the rockery garden and crossing a nine-bend bridge. Mo Zi didn’t mind the extra walking and turning, except that the master of Pinglan Garden was someone she wanted to avoid.
Living in Pinglan Garden was the Qiu family’s Fifth Master, three years younger than Third Mistress Qiu. Before marriage, he had defiled every maid in his quarters, bringing in two concubines from outside. After marriage, he hadn’t spared any of Fifth Madam’s four dowry maids either. Fifth Madam had made plenty of scenes over this. Zhang Shi initially wanted to shield her son, but was also envious of her daughter-in-law’s dowry silver, so she scolded her son several times in front of her daughter-in-law. Probably having coordinated with her son privately, things finally quieted down for a month or so. Letting Fifth Madam and Fourth Madam manage the household was meant as appeasement.
The quiet was only quiet in front of Fifth Madam. Behind her back, Fifth Master continued his philandering with great pleasure. Fifth Master did have romantic luck, for he was born with an exceptionally handsome appearance and spent money like water. Slightly improper women were easily seduced, and could even extract gold and silver from him—why not? His courtyard was a nest of capable maids, all vying for favor in jealous competition, comparing themselves to each other, flattering those above while stepping on those below, never truly peaceful.
Seeing that Fifth Madam no longer made scenes lately, Mo Zi guessed she only had the heart left to guard her position as the proper wife. Pitiful—not even two years married, her flower-like youth wasted in Fifth Master’s hands.
She deeply detested this type of ancient man, yet this mansion was particularly full of men with three wives and four concubines—even the head steward had one wife and two concubines.
Her steps quickened. Turning another corner would bring her to the nine-bend bridge when she suddenly saw a gleaming pierced-gold small ball on the pebble path. Her heart cried out in dismay. Such expensive and flashy ornaments could belong to no one but Fifth Master. Moreover, the rockery beside her was layered upon layered—according to the master’s tastes, who knew how many hidden alcoves and caves were arranged.
Please, please, don’t let her run into this bad luck.
Thinking this, Mo Zi quickly shifted her gaze to the other side, particularly trying to ignore that golden ball. The result? A bright red chest-binding garment floating about nearly blinded her eyes.
She almost wanted to grind her teeth.
Of all the rotten luck, it really wanted to make things difficult for her, didn’t it? Fearing trouble, she always avoided what she could, turned blind when she could, acting as if certain nerves were missing, lowering her head and bowing, practicing humility. So lucky stars should light her path—she would pass this rockery, cross that bridge, and whatever waves and billows those two behind her created would have nothing to do with her.
Lifting her skirt hem, she planned to jog lightly. One must know that a maid’s life was worthless—if she happened upon the master’s sordid affairs, perhaps a random beating would have her buried in the back garden as flower fertilizer.
Unfortunately, she was a step too late. Rustling sounds came from behind the rockery, revealing half a loosely draped man’s wide sleeve.
Mo Zi’s autumn-water eyes flashed, her brow arched lightly—quick thinking in an emergency.