No matter how illustrious the Gu family was, a death in the first lunar month was inauspicious. And so everyone urged the Fifth Master to wait until after the first month had passed before holding the burial. In any case, with the weather bitterly frozen and ice forming everywhere, there was no fear of the body deteriorating. But the Fifth Master was adamant that this matter be concluded quickly. He had Second Master Gu Tingdi take charge immediately, and with everything kept simple, the burial was to proceed within ten days.

The mourning hall was bleak and desolate. Only members of the Gu clan and one or two households that had been on friendly terms came to pay brief respects before taking their leave. Aside from the Fourth Master, who was too ill to come — leaving the Fourth Old Lady behind to look after him — the rest of the households all sat together in attendance.

The Fifth Old Lady wept so hard she nearly fainted, then leapt up and unleashed a torrent of abuse on Gu Tingdi and his wife. She charged them directly with lacking fraternal loyalty and filial conduct — that they had bullied Gu Tingyang at every turn while he lived, and were not even willing to arrange proper rites for him in death, making him die without peace.

Gu Tingdi and his wife were berated until their faces went red. Di Er had long grown accustomed to her mother-in-law’s unreasonable outbursts and could still endure it. But Gu Tingdi himself was seething with resentment — and when the scolding grew particularly fierce, he suddenly threw himself down before the Fifth Old Lady, his neck swollen thick with fury.

“…Mother does not know the price of firewood and rice because she has never run a household. Elder Brother alone consumed as much as Father, Mother, all the concubines, and our entire branch of the family combined! Is he studying to pass the examinations, or is he running a business to earn money?! The old and the young in this household — over a dozen mouths — doctor’s fees, medicine, food, clothing… the income from all the farms and estates is accounted for right here. Second Sister Tingcan’s marriage and Elder Nephew’s betrothal” — Gu Tingyang’s eldest concubine-born son — “are already being negotiated — where is the dowry and the betrothal money to come from? And the remaining younger ones, all visibly growing by the day — every single one of these things costs money!”

Gu Tingdi spoke faster and faster, his fury mounting. In the past, when the households had all been under the same roof, the main household had covered everything, and he had not bothered to complain. Now that they had separated into their own residence, every single thread had to come from their own pocket — how could he not be furious?

“Elder Brother spent his days at the theater, at pleasure houses, squandering thousands without a flinch. Even now, the debts he ran up outside have yet to be paid — are we to have the whole family go hungry so that Elder Brother alone could have his pleasures?!” Gu Tingdi knocked his head to the ground several times in quick succession — the sound of his forehead striking the blue-gray brick resounded clearly through the hall. “If Mother still thinks your son is at fault, then have the family rules invoked and have your son beaten to death right here!”

These words poured out in a rapid, urgent torrent, and left the Fifth Old Lady utterly stunned. She trembled all over, staring at her second son, and for a long moment could not utter a word. In the head seat above, Madam sat calmly lifting the lid of her teacup and stirring the tea leaves with unhurried ease. The other people present looked at one another — some unwilling to get involved, some unable to do anything about it. In the end, it was Gu Tingxuan — ever the peacemaker — who went over and pulled Gu Tingdi up, offering a few words to smooth over the scene.

The Fifth Old Lady was still burning with fury and grief. Unable to stop thinking about the tragic death of her beloved eldest son, tears cascaded down her face. She did not dare reproach her husband, nor could she scold her second son any further — so she sought another target for her wrath. She surged toward her eldest daughter-in-law, weeping and shouting: “It’s all because of you — you jinx! My son was perfectly fine, but you were useless — couldn’t hold your own husband, so he had to go looking for amusement outside! You should never have been brought into this family…”

Gu Tingyang’s wife was draped in mourning white from head to toe, looking even more sallow and shrunken than before, her sunken cheeks gaunt and withered. No matter how her mother-in-law cursed and humiliated her, she kept her head lowered in wooden silence, not making a sound. In the center of the mourning hall knelt her only son, Gu Shixun — a boy of over ten years, wearing the full hemp mourning garments, his eyelids downcast, silent and motionless.

Tingxuan’s wife leaned in close to Minglan’s ear and whispered: “If you ask me — Shixun is better off without a father like that! If he passes the imperial examinations in the future and has a father who spends every day in debauchery and disgrace — tsk tsk… don’t you think that’s the right of it?”

Minglan herself had thoroughly despised Gu Tingyang’s character, and on hearing this she deeply agreed — her head gave an unthinking nod. Then she remembered this was the man’s funeral, and hurriedly shook her head back. Tingxuan’s wife suppressed a burst of laughter and lowered her head to cover the corner of her mouth: “My poor little sister.”

The Fifth Old Lady’s cries and screams grew more frantic, and she pushed and pinched and struck at Gu Tingyang’s wife without pause. Seeing the scene become truly unmanageable, some among the women present began to feel unsettled and wanted to intervene. At this moment, the Fifth Master — who had been sitting still and motionless as a wooden idol — seemed to start awake from a dream. He rose suddenly and walked over, seized the Fifth Old Lady by the arm, and raised his hand to give her a resounding slap.

The crack of the palm was sharp, like a muffled thunderclap in the mourning hall. Everyone present was instantly frozen in shock.

“To have raised such a vile, shameless beast of a son — you still have the face to weep?!” The Fifth Master seemed to have transformed into an entirely different person. Gone was his habitual scholarly elegance. His eyes were bloodshot, his body stooped, and between clenched teeth he pressed out each word in icy fury: “I am repudiating you!”

The Fifth Old Lady stumbled from the blow, and was only caught by the daughter-in-law standing at her side. She was so frightened she had forgotten to cry — she stood there dazed and immobile. Madam quickly spoke first in a sharp command: “Di Er’s wife — why haven’t you helped your mother-in-law away to rest?!”

Only then did Di Er react. She dragged and supported the Fifth Old Lady and pulled her out. Gu Tingdi also hurried to prop up his father and help him sit. Madam had just opened her mouth: “Fifth Uncle — it’s not for an elder sister-in-law to say this, but it’s not the custom of our family to beat and curse a daughter-in-law. The children are all this grown now — where does that leave your sister-in-law’s dignity…”

The Fifth Master cut her off with gravity: “The affairs of my own household I will manage myself. Now that we have separated into our own residence, I ask that Elder Sister-in-law not concern herself so much.”

Madam’s expression changed in an instant. She gave a cold smile: “So I have been overstepping. If it weren’t for fear of upsetting your elder brother, I would never have bothered shielding and covering for one person after another.” These words carried double meaning. A shadow of pain crossed the Fifth Master’s face, and he said in a hoarse voice: “Thank you, Elder Sister-in-law.”

Everyone could hear that these words were not meant literally.

Tingxuan’s wife, not knowing what had crossed her mind, had a look on her face that was not entirely pleasant either. She pulled Minglan to a corner and murmured low: “…No wonder Fifth Uncle is so enraged. Clearly it was a festering sore — if the putrid matter had been properly cleaned out, it might still have healed. But they insisted on covering it up, and day by day it rotted down to the bone — until there was no saving it. Ai — and our Second Uncle in my household is also set in his wicked ways and refuses to change. Just lately — more trouble.”

Minglan quickly asked what had happened. Tingxuan’s wife said: “Just received word these past few days. He’s already been exiled to somewhere very far away, and even being attended on there — and he still can’t settle down. He saw the border trade flourishing and decided he wanted to go into business. Somehow a dispute broke out and he killed someone.”

“How did I hear nothing of this?” Minglan was startled.

Tingxuan’s wife quickly said: “Your Tingxuan Elder Brother also hesitated for two days before telling the Marquis. Out there at that distance — the offense has already been dealt with locally. Given the Marquis household’s prestige, other things might be passed over — but the term of exile will be extended by several more years.”

Minglan was quiet for a moment, then said: “Poor Tingbing’s wife — a family reunion will be delayed again.”

“Who isn’t saying so? These past few days she’s been crying and making a fuss, and has even made Father ill from all the commotion.” Tingxuan’s wife gave a deep sigh. In truth, at the very bottom of her heart, she secretly hoped Gu Tingbing would return later rather than sooner. There was even a thought lurking there — an unfilial one, she knew — that it would be best if he didn’t return until after the Fourth Master passed away. An elder brother could rein in a younger one, but could do nothing against a confused old father being stirred up by his second son. These thoughts, however, could never be spoken aloud.

Tingxuan’s wife gave a glance toward Madam in the hall and lowered her voice further: “If someone hadn’t ‘helpfully’ been shielding things for so many years, Second Brother might not have become so oblivious to the sky and the earth — committing further offenses while already carrying the weight of guilt. Ai — well, it’s only a few more years of hardship. That’s already the better outcome.”

Minglan offered a few words of comfort and thought to herself: these two situations were not the same. Gu Tingyang’s misconduct had been kept from the Fifth Master. Gu Tingbing’s misconduct — she feared the Fourth Master had actively asked Madam to cover it up.

This gathering ended in discord. Madam led her son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren out early. For the next several days, she sent word that her health was unwell and refused to come back. Gu Tingwei, entirely oblivious to the awkwardness, kept his broad smile and pulled Gu Tingdi and his wife close, repeating “elder brother” and “elder sister” and “if you need help in any way, do say the word.” Gu Tingxuan, however, could not sit still — he ran back and forth between both sides offering soothing words, hoping for harmony among the whole family.

Gu Tingye watched it all in cold silence, offering not a single comment — but he came every day without fail, sat for a brief while, and then took Minglan and left.

Several days after the burial, the first lunar month was over. Yu Household had seen out its year of family reunion and festivity. Elder Yao immediately dispatched his two sons and their wives — including Hong Xiao — back to the family home in Dengzhou. He himself and his elderly wife would follow the eldest son to his posting in the outer regions. Before their departure, Yu Si came to see Minglan one more time, chattering about various small matters. In just a few months, Elder Yao — drawing on the connections and goodwill of his former years — had swiftly secured an outer posting for his eldest son, swiftly resolved the entanglements with the former Yu Elder Madam’s family, and with yet greater swiftness had identified and chosen a suitable candidate for the new Yu Elder Madam.

Minglan was deeply impressed. Elder Yao was as nimble and capable as ever, with none of his vigor diminished.

“She is the niece of Hong, the Chief Astronomer at the Imperial Observatory.” Yu Si narrated with complete composure: “…She had just married when she was widowed. Her husband’s family could not accommodate her, so she had no choice but to return to her parents’ home. She is a woman of enduring constancy — she held firm for seven or eight years and refused to remarry. It was only when she saw her aging father’s health steadily failing that she finally relented. Father says: in taking a wife, take one of virtue — good character is what matters most.”

At his current age, still only a minor chief astronomer at the eighth rank, his official career had likely not been very smooth. Still, the Hong Family of Junzhou was at least a distinguished family, so the two families were reasonably well matched. Yu Household repudiating a wife to remarry was after all not a thing to be proud of, so they had planned to hold the wedding in the outer regions. And since that Hong young lady had withstood her family’s pressure to remarry for as long as seven or eight years, she clearly had a very settled mind of her own — perfect for keeping the erratic Elder Yu in line.

Minglan couldn’t help secretly envying: this kind of man — one who could, in the outer court, offer guidance on matters of state and society, and in the inner household, manage the affairs and domestic matters, capable of everything, and with deep sincerity of feeling — where on earth was such a man to be found? What fortune had the Old Madam Yu accumulated over how many lifetimes?

The ice and snow melted away, and the spring light gradually brightened. Damp branches burst into early spring buds. Minglan suddenly found herself receiving an avalanche of invitation cards. Some to admire spring plum blossoms, some to attend birthday celebrations and watch opera, some for full-month banquets and first-birthday feasts — scattered here and there, and even some from poetry societies — those, naturally, she declined with polite excuses. Minglan took up her brush and tallied them — if she were to attend every one, she would likely be busier than even the most sought-after leading courtesan of the capital.

The women of the inner household built their social connections — that itself was an art. Which invitations to decline, which to accept, how to conduct oneself at each — all required guidance.

Gu Tingye said indulgently, stroking Minglan’s cheek: “If you like, go to all of them.” The words of a man who understood nothing about the inner household.

Sheng Lao frowned with a cold face: “If you don’t like, go to none of them!” The hard-won wisdom of a woman who had lived half her life in seclusion and long since despised the coldness of human sentiment.

Shao Shi’s area of expertise was how to care for those long bedridden with illness — all else she knew nothing of.

Wang Shi was not someone to ask. Hualan’s social circle was different. Minglan sighed and had to seek help elsewhere. She wrapped up a large bundle of gifts, and with one plump little Tuan Ge’er in tow, went to visit Xiao Shen Shi — and, even more so, her sister-in-law. The latter, in truth, was the real point.

Xiao Shen Shi was just beginning to feel bored and restless. Seeing Minglan arrive with her little one, she naturally lit up with delight. When Minglan expressed puzzlement at why her social invitations had so suddenly multiplied several times over, she said with characteristic bluntness: “You’re so silly. Think about what your household’s situation was like back then. Those who only wanted to invite you were reluctant to leave out your Lady; those who wanted to invite your Lady — you yourself didn’t want to go. And on the rare occasion you both came together — either your Lady was putting on a performance alone while you sat there like a wooden block, or you were sitting there bristling all over with spikes, as if there was a trap ahead waiting for you to step in. What host would want that?”

Minglan was suddenly enlightened. In gratitude for Xiao Shen Shi’s illumination, she placed her fat, round little son on the kang to roll about as he pleased, and very generously declared him “available for anyone to play with” — then went to consult Zheng Elder Madam. Though Zheng Elder Madam was not known for saying much in ordinary times, she had after all spent over a decade in these aristocratic circles. When she spoke, her points were orderly and systematic, far beyond Xiao Shen Shi’s power of gossip.

Which families were of upright family style — worth befriending. Which families had capable and accomplished descendants — not to be neglected. Which families were embroidered pillows — full of trouble and worth only perfunctory attention. Which families had internal strife in the inner household — something to be cautious of and avoided. And so on, and so forth. Minglan only wished she had four ears, and could not bring herself to pull out a writing brush and notebook.

After comparing and weighing it all, Minglan chose only a few households to visit. For all the others she arranged careful gifts, and instructed her steward to deliver polite messages on her behalf: the household has been preoccupied of late, I ask for everyone’s understanding — one cousin-by-marriage had just died; another cousin-by-marriage had been handed an extended sentence; one of the two sisters-in-law was weeping nonstop; the other had taken ill. All was in disarray. This excuse was quite a good one.

The eighteen-year-old wife of Marquis Gu — poised and unhurried — presented herself before the assembled noble ladies. She came as a revelation: like a slender spray of white magnolia, fresh and lovely, she was a rarely seen beauty. The ladies, recalling the rumors about Marquis Gu and his wife that circulated outside, found this entirely fitting.

Sometimes Gu Tingye accompanied her to a banquet. If it was purely a gathering of women, he would still come to collect her whenever he had the time. Minglan would leap up into the carriage, and the first thing he would generally ask was: “Did anyone mistreat you?”

Minglan would smile: “With the Marquis’s fearsome reputation, who would have the nerve?”

It is worth mentioning the wife of the Duke of Ying. In whatever setting, in whatever household — as long as she was present, she would unfailingly bring Minglan along by her side for laughter and conversation, and with thoughtful warmth would introduce her to people all around and look after her. Receiving the Duchess’s meaningful gaze, Minglan dared not pretend not to understand. The very next day she stopped delaying and went to visit the Imperial Uncle’s wife, Zhang Shi, who was at home recuperating through her pregnancy.

What she saw gave her quite a shock.

Zhang Shi supported her enormous belly and made the effort to rise and receive her guest. Minglan watched with a frightened, tightened heart as Zhang Shi trembled from the exertion — a pregnant woman not far from delivery, and yet thin to the point of skin and bones! Minglan wanted very much to say something, but did not know where to begin. After venturing two sentences about “taking more care for the child’s sake,” Zhang Shi gently steered the conversation elsewhere.

“These two plum trees have a stubborn temperament. Fed with good water and fine fertilizer, they simply refused to bloom. Before the New Year, the gardener grew weary of trying and stopped paying them attention — and now, of their own accord, they have bloomed after all. Look how vivid the flowers are — like the clouds and sunset glow at the edge of West Mountain’s Eternal Spring Cliff, floating in a layer of mist. So beautiful it makes the heart ache — as though if you blinked, they would vanish.”

Zhang Shi tilted her face sideways, the line of her neck bent as she gazed out the window. Her complexion was sallow and yellowish, spots had appeared on her skin, and through the thin and fragile surface the raised cheekbones stood out sharply. On both cheeks, like the flush of too much wine, there burned two circles of abnormal redness.

This cloud-wrapped, mist-drifted monologue made Minglan want to drag her own sister-in-law Gu Tingcan over and show her what the true bearing of a great family’s daughter looked like, what true refinement and pride really meant. Zhang Shi seemed indifferent to everything, letting herself be ill and frail without a care.

Minglan was silent for a long moment. The two of them were not particularly close to begin with, and now that the other was deliberately keeping the conversation away, it was even harder to open up a topic.

“A person is, in the end, neither flower nor mist. There are parents and elders who love you, there is an innocent child. How can one be like morning dew or dawn mist — there one moment and gone the next, leaving nothing behind? Sister is a wise person — if there is nothing else to think of, at least think of the love and care your parents gave in raising you.” Minglan held Zhang Shi’s hand, and every word she said came from her heart. Zhang Shi was unmistakably moved, and said softly: “It is precisely because of the love and care my parents have given me in raising me that I…”

Before she could finish, a shrill, sharp cry rang out from outside the room.

“You servants — the wife of Marquis Gu has come, and not one of you thought to inform me?!”

At the sound of that voice, Zhang Shi’s expression slowly cooled again. She released Minglan’s hand and drew back against the pillows.

The woman who entered was petite and delicate, with an excessively flamboyant style of makeup and a smile sweet to the point of cloying. Minglan had seen Xiao Zou Shi a few times. Each time, she was blinded by the woman’s head-to-toe glittering gold and jewels. This entirely mature and voluptuous style of dress — and yet in truth she was only seventeen or eighteen years old.

Zhang Shi said flatly: “I have told you before — come less to my courtyard.”

Xiao Zou Shi’s eyes immediately filled with tears: “I truly do not know in what way I have wronged you, to be so despised by my sister. It is my duty to attend upon my sister — how could I not come?” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, then turned to face Minglan with a tearfully gentle smile: “I have made Sheng Family Sister laugh.”

Faced with such a scene — Minglan could not speak for how others might feel, but with Lin Yiniang’s brilliant example right before her, Xiao Zou Shi’s little performance was truly not worth watching. Minglan smiled: “I was just about to take my leave.”

Xiao Zou Shi quickly said: “Sister is heavy with child and cannot endure fatigue — why not come and sit in my quarters, Sheng Sister?” Minglan saw very clearly the contemptuous flicker in Zhang Shi’s eyes — the distinguished and proper wife of Marquis Gu, going to a concubine’s quarters to sit and drink tea. If word of that got out, Minglan would never need to step outside her door again.

“I only came by on my way past. There are still matters at home.” Minglan declined politely. Xiao Zou Shi had no choice but to insist on seeing Minglan out. As the two walked together, she kept talking — all by herself, in a relentless stream. One moment she was singing her own praises, saying how well the Imperial Uncle treated her. The next, she was dropping hints that Minglan looked down on her, wondering why she refused to sit in her rooms.

Minglan suddenly stopped walking. She looked at Xiao Zou Shi steadily: “When I was a child studying books, my teacher once told me a story. I wonder if Sister would like to hear it?” Xiao Zou Shi paused: “…Please, Sister, go ahead.”

“A very long time ago, there were two virtuous princesses, each betrothed to men of illustrious families. Both these husbands, however, did not love their princesses — they each doted only on their concubines. Because the princesses were kind-natured, they concealed on all sides their husbands’ coldness. After several years like this, one of the concubines grew ever more emboldened in her favor, monopolizing the husband so that he could not leave her side by a single step. Whenever the princess wished to summon her husband, the concubine would devise one scheme or another — threatening to die, threatening to harm herself. Sheltered by the husband’s indulgence, the small concubine became arrogant and imperious, while the princess grew quietly ill and desolate. The other concubine was precisely the opposite. No matter how much favor the husband showed her, she never dared transgress a single boundary. She served the princess with deference, and often urged the husband to go and visit his wife. The two concubines would sometimes encounter each other. The first one was surrounded by glory and prestige, with attendants all around, and would mock the second for being dull and foolish.”

Xiao Zou Shi was listening in a daze. Minglan paused to draw breath, then continued: “Later, the first princess could no longer endure the grief. She fell into a deep melancholy and died. The princess’s wet nurse, on the occasion of entering the palace to give thanks, managed to speak every detail of the cause to a full accounting. After the Emperor investigated, he was consumed with furious rage. He had the husband’s family stripped of their title. The husband was exiled for a thousand li and forbidden to return for the rest of his life. And that concubine…”

Minglan watched the color slowly draining from Xiao Zou Shi’s face: “…was executed by the lingchi — death by a thousand cuts. Every child she had borne was stripped of their status and reduced to palace slaves, to be trampled and bullied at others’ will.”

“And — what about the other one?” Minglan’s storytelling technique was good enough that Xiao Zou Shi couldn’t help but ask.

“The other one was fortunate. The princess found her gentle and pleasing, and though she and her husband were at odds, she treated this concubine like a sister. She treated the children this concubine bore like her own. Later, the concubine’s son achieved modest success in his studies. The princess personally went to the Emperor to petition for favor on his behalf. In time, both the princess and the husband passed away. The several children treated their birth mother with the utmost filial devotion. That concubine enjoyed every worldly fortune and prosperity, and lived to past eighty before dying peacefully of natural causes.”

The story was finished. Xiao Zou Shi bit her lip hard: “The Zhang Family, however distinguished, is still not quite a princess’s family. And there is still the Empress, and there is still Green Apple Sister” — Xiao Shen Shi — “I am not afraid…”

Minglan gave a sigh: “Green Apple frequently speaks to me of your sister with eyes full of tears, too choked to say a word. That is the only reason I have said so much today. Now I can only hope that Zhang Family Sister gives birth safely. Otherwise, if the Zhang Family demands an accounting — who is it that would be offered up as the outlet for their anger? …It certainly would not be the Imperial Uncle.” Nor would it be the Empress or Xiao Shen Shi.

Xiao Zou Shi’s expression shifted through several changes. She let out a cold laugh: “It seems Sister has taken the Zhang Family’s side. Understandable — the power of the Duke of Ying household is something everyone must reckon with. But I am not the sort of lowly concubine to be kneaded and manipulated at will — I hold an imperial title and rank!”

Minglan looked at her quietly for a good while, then said: “Green Apple says your health has never been entirely well. You really should take care and begin treatment promptly — if it drags on, the illness will set in and become difficult to cure. Also — don’t apply so much powder. It isn’t good for your health.”

Xiao Zou Shi stood there, lips moving several times, and in the end said nothing.

Leaving the Imperial Uncle’s household, she was walking partway along the road when she ran into Gu Tingye, who had come to collect her. The couple sat in the carriage, and Minglan got in first with: “No one mistreated me — Marquis, rest easy.”

Gu Tingye saw that her expression was overcast and subdued. He frowned slightly: “What’s the matter?”

In the story of those two concubines — the outcomes were vastly different, of course. But turning it around, couldn’t one also say: the first concubine’s feelings toward her husband were genuine — she could not endure anyone taking even a fraction of him. The second concubine, however, was calculating — for the sake of her own security, she was willing to let her beloved go and be close to his wife.

Foolishness and cleverness. True feeling and false intent. Sometimes, they were genuinely very hard to tell apart.

Minglan was silent for a while, then said: “Nothing.”

She thought a moment more, and then invented a sentence: “The Imperial Uncle’s wife is not well. I’m a little worried about her.”

Gu Tingye looked at her, deeply, for a long time — as if he wished to look all the way into her innermost heart, and find out what was there.

They were happy. They were complete. They spoke of everything and their natures matched — all of this was true, entirely true. And yet between them there still remained a layer of silence, a small, hidden, guarded place — kept in the depths of his beloved woman’s heart.