Danju quietly raised the two large south-facing paneled windows, leaving only the east and west ventilation windows open for airflow, then stood behind Minglan holding a large fan and fanning gently. Xiaotao tested the tea temperature — just right — and Minglan picked up the cup and took a small sip, set it down, looked at Kang Zhao’er standing there trembling, and said: “Your birth mother’s surname is Zhou. She was originally purchased from outside, came to serve your Yima at age fourteen or fifteen, and some years later your Yima elevated her to the position of concubine. She later gave birth to you. Is what I say correct?”

Kang Zhao’er looked up blankly — her face streaked with what was by now indistinguishable sweat or tears, unclear whether she was frightened or afraid.

Minglan smiled slightly: “Your Kang father has many concubines and favored women, but only one — a concubine surnamed Su — has always maintained some standing. She has given birth to one son and one daughter — your Fifteenth younger sister and your Eleventh younger brother. That is also not bad?” Kang father’s prowess was considerable — a whole household of concubines and favored women, and accordingly a whole household of children. Tu Hu had been so overwhelmed in his investigation that he had taken to numbering them, too lazy to even learn all the names.

Zhao’er involuntarily cried out: “…How does Elder Sister know?” She immediately realized she had been impolite and lowered her head quickly again.

“Among your many sisters of marriageable age, there are currently three. One is you. One is your Fourteenth younger sister — her birth mother was a legitimate concubine formally brought in from the Kang clan’s hometown. And then there is this daughter of Concubine Su.” Back in the Sheng Mansion, Minglan had once caught a fleeting glimpse of Kang Fifteen — one flash, and truly a stunning beauty — graceful, with eyes full of allure. Born to trade on her looks.

“Then why has Yima singled you out to come to the Gu household as a concubine?” Minglan smiled languidly.

An expression of humiliated fury crossed Zhao’er’s face, and she bit her lip so hard it nearly bled.

“Your Yima’s many concubine-born children — except for the few favored ones, the majority’s lives and futures are held entirely in your Yima’s hands. Your mother has no family outside and no backer within, and is not in your father’s favor — how she is treated is entirely at others’ discretion. Am I right or not?”

Zhao’er looked up with dry eye sockets, as if all the tears had already been cried out. Her voice was flat: “Every word the Elder Sister says is true.”

“I believe you didn’t tuck that pair of scissors inside your sleeve with any intention to harm me. So what exactly were you planning to do?” Minglan tilted her wrist and took up the teacup for another light sip. “Tell me — what exactly did Yima instruct you to do?”

Zhao’er’s expression was one of panic and distress, struggling with difficulty, unable to suppress her contradictory feelings. She was, after all, only sixteen — she had been shut inside the inner quarters her whole life and had never been through anything like this. Her birth mother was meek and fearful, with no experience of the world, incapable of teaching her anything of use. Her mind was a tangled mess, and her fingers had nearly worn a hole in the corner of her clothing.

Minglan said mildly: “Even if you don’t tell me, I can investigate it myself — why not sell me a favor?”

Zhao’er opened her mouth, then closed it. After several hesitations, the alarm on her face had still not faded. She seemed not to know where to begin.

Minglan was in no rush, coaxing her along sentence by sentence: “What did Yima say about me? I imagine it was nothing good.” Zhao’er stumbled: “She, she said… that Elder Sister… you most love to please people and value your reputation greatly… and that you… wouldn’t dare show too blatant a jealousy…” She watched Minglan’s expression cautiously, deeply afraid she would suddenly lose her temper.

To her astonishment, Minglan showed not the slightest indignation, and continued to smile in good humor: “And then? What about the scissors? Were you the one who decided to bring them, or was it Yima’s idea?” Zhao’er said quietly: “…It was her instruction… she said, if Elder Sister kept me here, I was to find an opportunity to wound myself, and then she would come to the door to stand up for me, to thoroughly intimidate Elder Sister. With that fear established, my days in the Gu household going forward would be easier.”

Minglan couldn’t help but nod. “But now I’m refusing to let you through the door no matter what, am I?”

Zhao’er bit her lip, her face so white there was barely a trace of color in it: “…She said… if Elder Sister refused no matter what… I was to stay kneeling and not get up. Since Elder Sister fears the damage to her reputation, she would either have to accept me, or lock me up. She wanted me to find an opportunity to wound myself still, and she would still come to demand justice, saying you had driven me to this. By then you would have no choice but to accept me.”

The room full of people who heard this were all furious. Nanny Cui was naturally reticent, and this had made her so furious that her entire body was shaking. Minglan got up and went to her side, patted her gently. Then she paced around the room twice, turned around suddenly, and said to Zhao’er warmly: “You’ve seen enough of how Yima does things from a young age. Do you really believe that using this approach will allow you to live well in the Gu household?”

Zhao’er lowered her head low, and her body suddenly began to shake violently. Thinking of her birth mother’s meek, ingratiating face, she raised her head with a desolate, tear-blurred gaze and looked at Minglan, saying brokenly: “I don’t believe it… but I have no choice. My mother… she’s there…”

Kang Yima was overbearing and domineering to a degree beyond even her younger sister, with no elder to restrain her from above — at times she didn’t even bother with surface proprieties. Those unfavored concubines and concubine-born children were treated with contempt even by managing matrons and stewards.

Minglan shook her head with a wry smile. Both threats and inducements — what painstaking effort.

Zhao’er carefully watched Minglan’s expression — a habit cultivated from childhood — and saw only warmth and serenity on Minglan’s face, unreadable as to joy or anger. Her own heart felt even more unsettled. Her knees buckled and she knelt, weeping: “Please have mercy on me, Elder Sister!”

Luzhi’s temper flared and she nearly stormed forward to slap the girl two good times — but Minglan’s rules were strict, and without a signal from her, nothing could be said or done in front of outsiders. She held herself back with great difficulty.

Minglan’s hand rested on the arm of the chair, her index and middle fingers lightly tapping. Her expression was gravely serious, as if she were thinking through something. After a moment, she seemed to come to a decision, and looked at Zhao’er with an expression full of tenderness, saying gently: “You know, I too was not born of the main wife — I too lost my mother when I was small. I’ve often thought: if not for my grandmother’s loving care, what would my life have been but a floating leaf…”

Her voice was soft with a gentle, grieving warmth. Kang Zhao’er listened, and another wave of tears poured out. She bowed her head and wept quietly.

“We are both concubine-born. I can’t bear to watch you suffer this way. Here is what I propose.” Minglan’s eyes were soft, her voice full of compassion. “Either you come into this household — and from then on, you and I will together serve the Marquis, and your mother’s days will not be so hard anymore.”

At these words, everyone in the room was shocked — they stared at Minglan in disbelief. Kang Zhao’er was equally stunned, forgetting to cry.

“If you don’t wish for this, there is another option.” Minglan’s fine brow furrowed slightly, her expression full of gentle concern. “Our Sheng Family has some standing in Youyang as well. I’ll ask Grandmother to send you there, where my First Uncle’s wife and my aunt will find you a marriage match. With your elder sister and brother-in-law there to support you, there won’t be many in Youyang who would dare bully you — though a wealthy and prominent family is probably not within reach.”

Everyone in the room was even more surprised than before, and continued to stare at Minglan with stupefied eyes. Zhao’er’s eyes went round as copper bells.

“But… what about my mother?” A beat too slow, she finally caught up.

Minglan smiled and consoled her: “Kang Yima will think you’ve been forcibly dragged away by me — she may not necessarily make trouble for your mother. And then your Second Elder Brother from the hall and Elder Sister Yun’er can speak to your father on your behalf to formalize the marriage. Once the matter is brought before your father, your mother should be safe.”

The expression on Zhao’er’s face shifted rapidly — bewildered, then wavering, then at a loss for what to do.

“Well — give me a word. What do you say?” Minglan asked with a light smile, then said with apparent casualness yet genuine weight: “A woman’s life has so few choices she can actually make. Look to yourself and decide.”

Only the sound of Zhao’er’s irregular breathing filled the room — sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes urgent, sometimes faltering. Minglan waited with great patience.

“—No. I won’t!” After a long while, a high, clear, sharp cry rang through the room. Zhao’er raised her head, her pupils wide and dilated, her face white to the point of near-transparency. “I won’t be a concubine!”

She scrambled and tumbled forward toward Minglan, screaming: “My mother said — even on plain tea and simple food, never be a concubine! No one is born lowly — marry properly, be a legitimate wife!” She grabbed the corner of Minglan’s clothing, crying as if her heart were tearing apart, as if all the humiliation of a lifetime were erupting at once. She repeated these two sentences over and over.

Nearby, Xiaotao blinked her eyes and thought to herself that this Kang Family cousin had clearly been frightened out of her wits by her aunt. If she’d ever seen Lin Yiniang in her former glory, she would know that even the role of concubine could be played with remarkable success, glamour, and a life full of flavor.

Hearing these words, Minglan’s expression actually went cold. She stood up with solemnity and looked down at Zhao’er: “Do you mean it?”

Zhao’er was in a state of heightened agitation, and murmured in a kind of daze: “Yes…”

Minglan gently pushed her away, and leaning on her belly, walked slowly around the room. She finally stopped beside Zhao’er and softly pressed her palm to Zhao’er’s forehead — damp with cold sweat. Then Minglan said in a quiet, even tone: “Very well then. I’ll take on this one extra matter. I’ll add a dowry for you. From here on — live your life well. If your mother is fortunate, perhaps one day mother and daughter will be reunited — who can say?”

With these words, she called Luzhi to lead two maids and help the still-dazed Zhao’er out of the room.