That evening, Sheng Hong and Sheng Wei sat up late drinking and talking. Wang Shi kept the Old Mistress company for a while, and before dinner Nanny Cui brought Minglan back — Danju and Xiaotao came carrying two large bundles of gifts, and behind them two rough-work matrons hauled a chest between them.
The Old Mistress pulled Minglan to sit beside her and rocked her back and forth like a small baby for a good while, then asked with a smile: “Our little Minglan has struck it rich today! Tell Grandmother — what did Great-Uncle send?”
Minglan had not paid close attention at the time and began ticking items off on her chubby little fingers from memory: “There were… gold… and silk… and pearls… and bracelets… and, mm… hairpins, and hair combs too… and, and… there were also, there were also…” She went on trying to remember for quite a while but could not finish the list. The Old Mistress listened with her eyes going wide, then extended one finger and tapped Minglan firmly on the forehead, pulling a straight face: “…and there were, and there were — you little goose!”
Minglan’s small face turned red, and everyone burst out laughing together.
With that, the Old Mistress had Cuiwei direct the matrons to open the bundles and chests for inspection — four bolts each of the latest Hu silk brocade in various colors, bolts of Shu brocade in various colors, all with brilliant and elegant patterns and sheen; two sets of Huizhou’s finest writing instruments; a pair of solid gold twisted-wire agate bracelets; a pair of silver leaf wire-wound jade bracelets; two pairs each of pearl hairpins and gold hair combs; one box of brilliant round red coral beads and one box of multicolored glass seed pearls; five finger rings in various fashionable new styles; and the rest a scattering of small trinkets suited to a young girl.
The Old Mistress frowned slightly: “These gifts are rather heavy.”
Wang Shi smiled: “Great-Uncle said it has been so many years since he last visited — he might as well make up for all of them at once.” She then turned to pull Minglan over: “You silly child — they say you memorize characters quickly, and yet you couldn’t even remember all these things? No wonder the Old Mistress calls you a little goose!”
Minglan gave an awkward heh-heh sort of laugh. She was rather better at memorizing numbers and case studies as it happened. The Old Mistress heard Wang Shi’s words, and her gaze flickered with something that might have been faint amusement — but she said nothing.
Then Wang Shi turned back to the Old Mistress and said with a smile: “Our Minglan is a kindhearted child. When she stayed at my daughter-in-law’s place, she wore whatever she was given to wear and ate whatever she was given to eat without the slightest complaint — and never once cast covetous eyes at her sisters’ belongings. When Rulan was living with her, food and toys and ornaments were strewn all over the place, and Minglan didn’t touch a single one of them. No wonder the Old Mistress dotes on you — she has real dignity, this one.”
The Old Mistress gave Wang Shi a measured look and said with unruffled composure: “Now that Hualan is gone, you must put in more effort. The remaining girls need good raising — young ladies cannot afford to have a shallow, grasping eye. That would make one a laughingstock.”
Wang Shi was immediately all smiles — but then the Old Mistress said something that appeared entirely unrelated: “Minglan, after you left just now, you had Xiaotao take back that pouch of golden fish ingots that your great-uncle gave you. What was that for — rushing off to show them off to your sisters?”
Minglan’s eyes went round: “I was not showing off. I was going to divide them among my sisters.”
Wang Shi’s expression immediately became somewhat uncomfortable. The Old Mistress smiled in her unfathomable way: “Did your sisters accept them?”
Minglan shook her head, pouting slightly: “We all took the same beating together — so the golden fish ought to be shared together too. I had Xiaotao bring the little ivory scale along as well. But Elder Sister flatly refused — she said Great-Uncle gave this one to just me, and that the others had each received gifts from Great-Uncle before, on previous visits.”
The Old Mistress said with warm approval: “Eldest Miss has indeed grown up and become sensible. And Great-Uncle gave her a handsome addition to her dowry this time too — we should all be content.” Wang Shi breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Minglan thought to herself: these women of the inner household — every word and every phrase was full of concealed barbs; one careless step and you could find yourself entirely entangled.
After a while the Old Mistress called for dinner. Wang Shi usually returned to her own rooms to eat with her daughters, so she made her farewells and left with her maids and matrons. The moment she stepped out of the Hall of Longevity and Tranquility’s courtyard, she quickened her pace and hurried toward the Flourishing Pavilion. Before the maid had even lifted the curtain to the main room, Wang Shi heard Hualan’s voice inside, scolding Rulan.
“How shallow can you be — seeing Minglan’s few gold ingots and wanting half of them for yourself. Have you never seen gold before?” Wang Shi’s eyelid twitched hearing Hualan’s voice.
“Great-Uncle must have lost his mind. You and I are the ones born of the proper wife — why should he truly treat that concubine-born child as one of us? All of it ought to have come to us!” Rulan retorted.
Wang Shi heard this and her temple veins stood out. She left Cai Huan and Cai Pei to stand watch at the door, then strode in a single step into the inner room, pointing at Rulan and snapping: “You wretched girl, hold your tongue! What sort of rubbish are you saying — Nanny Kong should have given you several more strokes for this!”
The sisters Hualan and Rulan were seated on a pair of embroidered begonia brocade stools; seeing Wang Shi enter, they both quickly stood and curtsied. Wang Shi grabbed Rulan’s arm and said in a low, firm voice: “You are never to speak of ‘concubine-born’ and ‘proper-wife-born’ again. Have you forgotten what your own father is?”
Rulan’s heart gave a sudden clench — that was right, Sheng Hong was also of concubine birth. She knew she had said the wrong thing, yet still couldn’t resign herself to it: “When my elder sister and I received our gold locks they were sent by Great-Uncle — Lin Yiniang had nothing to do with it. As for Fourth Sister’s lock, that came afterward as a supplementary gift from Great-Uncle and his wife. Isn’t it what Mother always said — Great-Uncle absolutely despises concubines and secondary wives? Even if Great-Uncle is showing Minglan favor for Father’s sake, a small token gift would be more than sufficient. Why go giving a gold lock on one occasion and a bag of golden fish on another? It will only spoil that little girl’s character. I noticed her gold lock is even more finely worked than mine!”
Wang Shi’s head was throbbing. She sat down on the upholstered couch, and Hualan, seeing this, walked over and gave Rulan a sharp pinch on the arm, lowering her voice: “What do you know? The Great-Uncle and our Old Mistress are the closest of friends. Back in the day, when Great-Uncle didn’t regard Fourth Sister well, it was because of Grandmother. Today he shows honor to Sixth Sister — it is also because of Grandmother. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself for never being willing to go to the Hall of Longevity and Tranquility!”
Wang Shi looked at her eldest daughter with warm approval, then turned on Rulan sharply: “Your elder sister is absolutely right. I have just found out — Great-Uncle originally gave Sixth Miss only the gold lock. But she won his affection by being attentive and serving tea and greeting him properly, and that is why he brought out a bag of golden fish as well. And what about you? Think about it yourself — every time Great-Uncle comes, he brings gifts for all of you girls. Hualan manages well enough, but you — every single visit, you simply put on airs and act like a great lady. You can’t even be bothered to speak, you make no effort to be pleasant — anyone who sees you like that will find you off-putting!”
Rulan had never been spoken to so harshly by Wang Shi before. Her small face flushed scarlet, and she cried out in fury: “Who needs Great-Uncle to like me! Wasn’t it Mother who said — if it hadn’t been for the Old Mistress, Great-Uncle would have been driven out long ago by Great-Father; and if it hadn’t been for Father, Great-Uncle wouldn’t have his great business today. Great-Uncle’s family has received such enormous favor from ours — we couldn’t take enough from them to make it even. Why should I need to go out of my way to please Great-Uncle? Whatever he gives me is only what is owed!”
There was a sharp rustle of fabric as Hualan stood up abruptly, her voice cutting: “What is this nonsense you’re spouting? Close your mouth immediately — say one more word and I will tear your mouth off myself!” Seeing her sister’s fierce expression and the fire in her eyes, Rulan stiffened her neck and shut her mouth.
Hualan turned to Wang Shi and said reproachfully: “Mother — really. You know perfectly well that Younger Sister’s temperament is impulsive. How could you say such things to her? If she ever loses her head and goes around repeating it, Grandmother and Father will have your skin! And that’s when the Lin woman will really have cause to be pleased with herself!”
Wang Shi felt her head swell to twice its size. She sank back against the upholstered couch, a look of near-apoplexy on her face.
Hualan sat down beside Rulan and, for once with considerable patience, instructed her younger sister: “It is true that Father and Grandmother have helped Great-Uncle a great deal. But the one being raised by the Old Mistress now is Minglan, and Father has more than just the two of us as his daughters. Before long I shall be gone — after that, there will be no one to guide you. Rulan, you will need to think things through for yourself.”
Rulan’s lips moved, still wearing that stubborn, bull-headed expression. Hualan worked to be even more patient: “You and I were born of the same mother — even if we have quarreled in the past, would an elder sister truly lead you wrong? Going forward, do not argue and clash with Molan at every turn. That wretched girl is practiced in putting on a performance, and she is clever with schemes — you will only end up the worse for it. Simply do not associate with her, if you prefer. If you are bored, go spend time with Sixth Sister. I find her quite all right actually — though she is younger than you, her way of conducting herself is far more steady than yours. In just this short time, the Old Mistress already treats her as her most precious dear; every nice thing goes to her first, and you can see how much more Father has been doting on her lately!”
Rulan lowered her head, not quite convinced, and muttered sulkily: “How can they compare to me? They are both concubine-born — they have to flatter and fawn to have any standing at all. I am born of the proper wife — I don’t need to do any of that.”
Hualan gave a firm, deliberate pause before replying: “That is right — we are born of the proper wife. So let us conduct ourselves with the dignity that proper daughters deserve. We cannot end up, when all is said and done, being outshone by the concubine-born ones!”
In the first days of the fifth month, the weather was mild and bright, the air warm and easy — an auspicious time for weddings. The procession arrived with drums and horns and fanfare. The Sheng Mansion was decorated throughout with flowers and festive red, arranged in a scene of joyful celebration. Minglan was roused early in the morning by Nanny Cui to be dressed and groomed: her hair was done up in two round butterfly buns, adorned with a pair of golden wire braided hair rings set with red coral beads. Her upper garment was a crimson brocade long-body jacket with engraved gold silk buttons and embroidered boughs of magnolia blossoms in the cross-collar style. Below the knees it showed a span of moon-white cloud-patterned silk pleated skirt. She looked in the mirror, puffed out her small round cheeks and smiled — a dimple appeared at the corner of her mouth — the very picture of a lively, auspicious New Year figure from a woodblock print.
When she arrived at the Flourishing Pavilion, Minglan saw that Molan and Rulan were also dressed in the same bright festive red, each with a finely crafted chain hanging from their necks from which the bead-coiled golden locks that Sheng Wei had given them were suspended. Then they said their farewells to Hualan in order.
Molan: “May Elder Sister be blessed with the harmony of mandarin ducks, the happiness of a creeping vine beside a pine tree in spring, flowers blooming and the moon full, and the glory of a joined stem.”
Rulan: “May Elder Sister celebrate a fine match, may Elder Sister and her husband be as harmonious as lute and zither, grow old together with white hair, their children prosper, and the branches of the family be full and flourishing.”
Minglan: “…The capital is a dry climate. Elder Sister should drink plenty of water every day — it is good for the skin.” She truly could not think of anything else — was it too much to ask them to leave a few good sayings for her?
Hualan looked at Minglan, blinked, and found that whatever tears she had been trying to work up had dissipated.
After Wang Shi had given a few more instructions, a nanny Minglan had not seen before stepped forward — dressed in a dark plum-colored jacket with circular floral embroidery. Hualan looked at her mother in some confusion. Wang Shi’s eyes shifted evasively, and she said in a halting manner: “Please have this nanny speak to our daughter about the proper conduct between husband and wife.”
With that she led the whole company away from the Flourishing Pavilion. Minglan understood at once and gave a quiet mental scoff — this was no more than an intimate education session. In her previous life, a cousin of Yao Yiyi’s had been dispatched to Africa on a work assignment and had left in such a hurry that he forgot to bring his spiritual sustenance — a full ten gigabytes of intimate films. He asked his younger female cousin to send it over, and true to habit — and with the meticulous spirit of a legal professional — Yao Yiyi had watched the whole collection carefully from beginning to end.
As the saying went — read three hundred poems of the Tang and, though you cannot compose, you will be able to recite; quite possibly she would explain things more thoroughly and clearly than that nanny could. But seeing that Molan and Rulan both looked entirely uncomprehending, Minglan thought it best not to appear too worldly-wise — so she played the innocent along with them.
Outside, a good number of ladies had already arrived. Wang Shi needed to go and receive them, and brought the girls along to be introduced. The three of them were led by their respective nannies in a turn before the female guests — their bright red jackets set off against their fair, tender little faces made them look as fresh and vivid as flowers, drawing exclamations of delight from everyone present, each reaching out to pinch a cheek or peer more closely.
Sheng Hong had been in Dengzhou as magistrate for barely a year; the Sheng household’s connections with local gentry and officials were still shallow. The assembled ladies roughly knew that among these young misses only one was of legitimate birth, but all three were turned out identically, and Wang Shi was too occupied in the busy moment to point things out plainly. So the gathered ladies simply went by personal preference and instinct: those who favored a refined, elegant look gravitated toward Molan; those who preferred a composed and dignified air pulled at Rulan. And since Minglan was the smallest, and had a face like carved jade, with deportment that was well-mannered and proper, and a tiny round plump figure with short little arms and short little legs, with an adorable, charmingly naive manner of moving, she was the one most people found themselves drawn to and ended up being handled by the greatest number of guests.
Minglan’s little face was patted and pinched by this crowd of elderly ladies who might have sold matches in a past life she could not say how many times — and not only could she not cry out for help, she had to put on an expression of being greatly honored by all this attention. Though there were compensations to being small children — Minglan and the others at least caught a glimpse of the legendary future brother-in-law Yuan Shao ahead of the bride.
The bridegroom was twenty years old this year — a latecomer to marriage. He was well-built and well-featured, fair-faced and bearded, though apparently he had shaved in a hurry the night before, leaving only a faint shadow of blue along his jaw. His full set of red bridal garments gave him a tall, trim appearance. His gaze was clear and intelligent, his manner steady and composed. Standing beside Sheng Hong, who looked quite boyish and slight for a man of well over forty, they looked more like peers of the same generation.
Wang Shi held Yuan Shao’s hand and looked him up and down for roughly the length of time it takes half a stick of incense to burn, until the son-in-law’s face had gone quite numb under the scrutiny, before she finally released him — then spoke for another half stick of incense’s worth of exhortations along the lines of “please be patient with her.”
After the formalities, Yuan Shao took his bride onto the boat. Great-Uncle Sheng Wei and younger brother Sheng Changbai saw the wedding party off. Wang Shi wept through an entire handkerchief at the gates of the Sheng Mansion, and even Sheng Hong felt somewhat misty-eyed.
That day the Sheng Mansion opened over a dozen tables of banquet, with several more dozens of tables at the Hongbin Tower — the most celebrated restaurant in Dengzhou. The festivities lasted until well past midnight before the guests finally departed. Children had no part in such late-night celebrations, and Minglan had long since been taken back to the Hall of Longevity and Tranquility by her nanny, covering her little mouth with a plump hand as she yawned continuously. After Danju and Nanny Cui had settled her in for the night, the Old Mistress and her small granddaughter lay side by side, and between idle remarks the little Minglan described the goings-on at the wedding outside. The Old Mistress listened, then suddenly said: “Minglan, recite Grandmother a poem about weddings.”
Minglan had been reading the Book of Songs lately. She thought for a moment, chose the simplest one she knew, and declaimed clearly: “‘The peach tree is young and slender; how brilliant are its blossoms. This young lady is going to her new home; she will be a good wife to household and home. The peach tree is young and slender; its fruit will be abundant. This young lady is going to her new home; she will be a good wife to household and home. The peach tree is young and slender; its leaves spread thick and full. This young lady is going to her new home; she will be a good wife to household and family.'”
“Minglan recited it beautifully.” In the darkness, the Old Mistress seemed to let out a soft, quiet sigh, a thread of sadness in her voice, as though speaking more to herself: “Minglan, do you know — when Grandmother was young, my very favorite was the ‘Ballad of the Cypress Boat.’ I recited it morning and night. But looking back now, I think ‘Peach Blossoms’ is the more honest one. If a woman could truly be like a peach tree — blooming brilliantly, then bearing abundant fruit in good time — that would be the truest blessing.”
Minglan was already drowsy, barely making sense of what her grandmother was saying — it seemed to be something about growing peaches. She murmured back half-asleep: “…If a peach tree is healthy but can’t bear fruit, it must be the soil isn’t right — plant it somewhere else, give it fresh earth and fertilizer and water, and it will come around eventually. Unless the peach tree dies — in that case, you’d just have to keep trying…”
The Old Mistress was startled at first, then could not help but smile. She looked down at her small granddaughter — the little girl was already sound asleep, her face milk-pale and rosy, small lips slightly puckered, breath gentle and even. The Old Mistress gazed at her granddaughter’s sleeping face with a tenderness full of love, patting her softly, over and over.
That night, Wang Shi drank a bowl of calming herbal soup and fell into a restless sleep, her heart full of worry for her daughter. Sheng Hong, thoroughly drunk, was guided by people whom Lin Yiniang had quietly arranged beforehand to her cottage. There a sobering soup of vinegar and a basin of hot water and towels had been made ready. After settling in for the night and a bout of intimate pleasantries, Lin Yiniang, sensing that Sheng Hong was in exceptionally fine spirits and drawing on her experience that this was the moment when he was most agreeable, prepared to bring out her carefully rehearsed speech.