By the eastern lotus pond of the Sheng Mansion, evening was drawing close. The rooms were stuffy with heat, but outside in the courtyard a pleasant breeze drifted through. Several young maidservants were cracking melon seeds and chatting idly in the yard, not a single one of them left inside the room to attend. Yao Yiyi lay alone in the inner chamber on a frame bed made of zelkova wood, somewhere between alive and dead, in a dazed stupor.
Yao Yiyi had buried her chubby little body in a pile of bolster cushions, her short limbs spread wide like a starfish, her expression vacant and listless. Since arriving in this world, Yao Yiyi had remained in precisely this wandering-spirit state. She turned her small head and looked around the room. It was the sort of room she had seen in period dramas on television — ancient-style in every detail. In the center of the room stood a round table in the shape of a ruyi scepter. Yao Yiyi could not identify the type of wood, but its lustrous surface glowed with a richly polished sheen — clearly fine craftsmanship. Against the wall stood a carved wooden armoire reaching to the ceiling, its relief pattern depicting what appeared to be the Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea. There were also several low side tables and round stools and square footstools of various kinds scattered about.
Yao Yiyi felt somewhat parched. She climbed out of bed in bare feet. People from the south were accustomed to wooden floors, so bare feet on the floorboards did not feel cold. She came to the round ruyi table and saw that beneath it sat a small footstool and a round stool slightly taller than it. Yao Yiyi found this quite amusing. She stepped up onto the small footstool, then climbed up onto the round stool, and from this steadily balanced position she was able to reach the table — she dragged over a heavy teapot and tilted the spout to her lips, drinking in deep, gulping swallows.
When she finished, she climbed back down the way she had come and returned to the bed. A lingering fragrance filled her mouth and teeth, and Yao Yiyi’s sluggish mind registered the thought: ah, today is not plain boiled water — it has become tea. And it seems to be rather good tea.
A few days earlier, she had also woken up parched and climbed her way to the tea in just the same fashion, when several people suddenly came in from outside the door. The leading figure — an elderly woman — appeared to have been struck by lightning when she saw the sight of her climbing up to drink from a teapot. She seemed deeply shaken, and on the spot she administered a thorough scolding to the maids and serving women in the courtyard, then turned to offer Yao Yiyi a great deal of consolation and reassurance. At that time, Yao Yiyi had been in this world for barely two days and had yet to find her footing at all. The father, mother, wet nurse, and personal attendants one would normally expect upon arriving in a new world — she had none of them. Each day, a rotating procession of faces came and went, so many that she had not even learned to tell them all apart yet. And so she had only been able to sit and watch and listen with a blank expression, without any reaction whatsoever. The old woman had sighed, murmured several times what a pity it was, and left.
Yao Yiyi realized, belatedly, that she had just been pitied. In truth, what she really wanted to say was: without anyone in the room, she actually felt far more at ease. As an impostor in unfamiliar surroundings, to expect her — while still reeling in shock — to compose herself and perform with dignity: this was, frankly, rather difficult.
When she was alone in the room, she could stretch her legs however she liked or lie flat on her belly like a frog — whatever she pleased — and this actually helped the initial emotional recovery after transmigration. After the old woman left that day, the maids and serving women immediately improved their service: they placed various snacks and refreshments on the table, kept the teapot filled with tea, and just yesterday had set out a fresh bunch of grapes still beaded with water droplets. Even more considerate was this: in consideration of Yao Yiyi’s height and build, they had arranged several stools and footstools of graduated heights, forming a set of steps just suited for her to climb up and down — and then, they went back outside to play.
Yao Yiyi was deeply moved.
From the courtyard outside the room, voices drifted in. Yao Yiyi could hear them clearly without even straining her ears. In these recent days, the Sheng Mansion had been a place of roiling undercurrents and hidden storms, and the maidservants in this quiet, isolated little courtyard had stirred themselves to life, pursuing their vocation for gossip with passionate enthusiasm.
“I heard this morning from Laifu — who serves the Master directly — that a few days ago the official decree came down from above, and our Master has been promoted to Prefect. By the end of the month, he’ll be heading to Dengzhou to take up the post. Over at Lin Yiniang’s quarters, there’s been a mad scramble these past few days — she’s in a rush to convert some of her shops into cash so she can take it all with her.” Maidservant A said.
“My goodness — after all these years, just how much wealth has Lin Yiniang managed to put away? From what I can see, she lives more lavishly than Madam even on an ordinary day. They say she was born into a good family and only made herself a secondary wife because she admired our Master — and from the looks of it, that’s no exaggeration.” Maidservant B said, quite excited.
“Pah! Don’t you listen to those flatterers and their nonsense! My mother told me long ago — that Lin Yiniang is nothing more than the orphaned daughter of a fallen official’s family. When she first arrived at our Sheng Mansion, she brought with her only a single young maidservant and one old serving woman — all her trunks and bundles together came to no more than five or six pieces, and the clothes on her back were not even as fine as those of the first- and second-tier maids in this household. What wealth and connections? Please!” Maidservant C was rather indignant.
“And yet look at how well off Lin Yiniang is now — Master dotes on her so excessively. No wonder Madam has always been out of sorts about it. Even Feng Ge’er and young Miss Mo are somewhat favored because of it. That Lin Yiniang really is something else.” Maidservant D said with a tone of admiration tinged with envy.
Maidservant E chimed in: “Naturally — otherwise, how could she have charmed Master so completely that he lets her trample all over Madam’s dignity and the proper order of the household? The Old Madam inwardly disapproves, yet can’t be bothered to interfere. She’s also been fruitful — a son and a daughter — so of course she holds her head high. Hmm… looking at this little courtyard of ours, it’s pretty clear our prospects have dried up. When Wei Yiniang was alive, it was still all right — Master still came by sometimes. Now that Wei Yiniang is gone, the place has gone completely cold and desolate. I don’t know what will become of us, where we’ll be sent. If we could end up assigned to Lin Yiniang’s quarters, that would be wonderful — they say the sisters there eat better, dress better, and receive better monthly wages than anywhere else.”
“You little thing, you can dream all you like. But I’m telling you — Lin Yiniang is not the sort of mistress who is easy to get along with.” Yao Yiyi recognized the voice of Maidservant C again. She gave a cold laugh and continued: “When she first came into this household, she was pleasant enough. But once she gave birth to Feng Ge’er, she quietly and gradually had all the experienced maids and serving women edged out one by one. My mother — and Lai Da’s mother — and the sister and mother of Cuixi. Do you know why? Simply because these women had all seen her in her days of poverty and hardship.”
“Truly? Sister, is this really true? Is Lin Yiniang truly so formidable?” Maidservant E, who had been hoping for a transfer, was taken aback.
“If I’m making it up, may my tongue rot out!” Maidservant C said with vehemence. “And now look at the result — the women with any real standing won’t say a word about her past, and the ones who would speak have all been demoted and driven out of the household. There is not a soul left in this mansion who knows her history — only those black-hearted ingrates who benefited from her generosity, spreading pretty words about her on all sides. What a refined accomplishment in music and chess and calligraphy and painting! What exquisite mastery of poetry and verse! Such a kind and honest nature! Such a gentle and sincere character! Ha! The one who was truly kind and honest has just died. That was our Wei Yiniang — the most straightforward and decent person in this household!”
“Sister Cui, please lower your voice — if you’re overheard, you’ll come to no good!” Maidservant F offered a well-meaning warning.
“Hmph! What do I have to fear? I’ve already been promised in marriage, and besides, my mother serves the Old Madam — and she’s long since moved out of the mansion to the country estate. Just the other day, my parents asked and received the Old Madam’s blessing: when Master departs for Dengzhou, I won’t be going along. I’ll be helping out with work at the estate, and after that, I’ll never have to lay eyes on these maddening affairs again.”
So Maidservant Cui C had already secured her way out, Yao Yiyi thought — no wonder she spoke with such fearlessness.
“Well — if it weren’t for what happened to Wei Yiniang this time, who would have known that Lin Yiniang’s heart was so ruthless? The way she speaks, always so gentle and courteous, always so pleasant to everyone — who would have imagined it? Wei Yiniang had barely died before Lin Yiniang drove away Sister Die and the others — even our young mistress’s wet nurse was let go along with them. She only kept us handful of third-tier maids who know nothing at all…” Maidservant A said, lowering her voice more and more as she went on.
“Those women were Wei Yiniang’s most capable attendants and were extremely devoted to her — of course they had to be driven away. Otherwise, when the Master asks questions and something comes to light — what then?” Maidservant Cui C said.
“Something comes to light? What are you on about?” Maidservant B said in a low voice.
Maidservant Cui C said gravely: “Hmph! We may be third-tier maids, but we’re not blind. On the day Wei Yiniang went into labor, she started crying out in pain as early as the first quarter of the hour of Yin. Sister Die rushed to Lin Yiniang’s quarters to plead with them to send for a midwife — so why did the midwife not arrive until nearly the hour of Si? There were also plenty of serving women in this household who knew how to assist with childbirth — yet how convenient that they had all been given days off just at that time. When Wei Yiniang could no longer bear it and Sister Die urgently called for clean cloth and boiling water — why is it that we few were each sent off on one errand or another? At the most critical moment, there was not a single useful person left in that entire courtyard. And bear in mind — Master and Madam had already left the house several days earlier. The Old Madam in the western courtyard never interferes in household matters. All affairs of the household, great and small, were being decided by Lin Yiniang. You tell me — what do you think came to light?! Heaven has its eyes — Master’s public duties unexpectedly concluded early, and he returned to the mansion a few days ahead of schedule, arriving just in time to see Wei Yiniang draw her last breath. He asked Sister Die a few questions and flew into a fury on the spot. Had he returned even a few days later, Lin Yiniang would surely have had everything swept clean — nothing left for anyone to find!”
When these words were spoken, silence fell over the courtyard. Only a few long, drawn-out sighs could be heard. Yao Yiyi let out a quiet breath, shifted into a more comfortable position, and waited to hear what would come next. After a moment, one of the maidservants said: “But even so, over these past ten or more days, I haven’t seen Master make any real move against anyone. He’s only gone to sleep in the study, and Lin Yiniang is still living comfortably as before. In Master’s heart, Lin Yiniang has always counted for more than Wei Yiniang.”
Maidservant Cui C gave a short cold laugh and said no more.
“If you ask me — Lin Yiniang really needn’t have gone after Wei Yiniang at all. How could Wei Yiniang ever compare to her? She could simply have ignored her, the way Ping Yiniang and Xiang Yiniang do.” Maidservant D said with a sigh.
“You don’t understand. Ping Yiniang and Xiang Yiniang are nothing like our Wei Yiniang. Wei Yiniang may not have known anything about poetry or painting, but she was no lowly, abject serving girl either — she was formally taken in and given a proper position. And furthermore, our Wei Yiniang was extraordinarily beautiful, and still so young, so tender and attentive. From the day she entered the household, Master showed her considerable favor. She had already given birth to a daughter, and if she had also given him a son, she would not have been any less than Lin Yiniang — what a pity…” Maidservant F spoke with the air of one who has seen the world.
“Exactly right. They say it was an exceptionally handsome little boy — his eyes and features were the very image of the Master. Truly a tragedy — smothered to death in his mother’s womb before he ever drew breath. Ah… a heavenly crime.” Maidservant B said in the very faintest of voices. “But even if the truth comes out, what then? Master would never truly demand that Lin Yiniang pay with her life — not with Feng Ge’er and young Miss Mo to consider. At most, a few servants will be punished to vent some anger.”
Another silence fell over the courtyard. Yao Yiyi nodded inwardly. This maidservant had sharp eyes — she had cut straight to the heart of it.
“Sister Cui, you still have the best fate — your parents and brothers are all capable people, and once you leave the mansion, you’ll surely have good days ahead. As for the rest of us sisters, who knows where we’ll end up? This little courtyard is clearly going to be scattered — and I don’t know what will become of our young mistress either.” Maidservant E never lost sight of the question of her own future employment.
“What good days? It’s simply trading one place of work for another — only slightly closer to my parents and siblings, so I can enjoy a little bit of family warmth. You shouldn’t worry either. We’re all third-tier maids — Lin Yiniang’s resentment can’t really reach down to us. When the time comes, it’ll just be a matter of serving under a different mistress.” Maidservant C said, not without a hint of smugness.
“A different mistress — and who knows whether any new mistress will be as easy to get along with as Wei Yiniang. She was a decent-hearted woman. She never once raised her voice at us. One year when my younger sister fell ill, she even gave me a few taels of silver as a gift.” Maidservant A said.
“Honest, yes — but far too timid and yielding. The way people came and went in this courtyard without any proper order, the way the serving women and their husbands here dared to scheme against her behind her back — and she just endured it all, never standing up for herself. In the end, it brought her no good either. Besides Sister Die, who ever dared speak up for her or take her side? And who ever truly appreciated her kindness? I say — a mistress ought to carry herself with the proper bearing of a mistress. Wanting to be good to everyone at all times is nothing but an inability to distinguish right from wrong.” Maidservant B said.
These topics had grown too heavy, and the maidservants quickly turned their attention to Maidservant Cui C’s prospects for marriage — and suddenly the courtyard lightened again. Yao Yiyi lay flat on her back on the bed, staring up at the blue gauze canopy on its carved frame in a blank daze. This kind of rambling, wandering conversation she had been listening to for more than ten days now. She had come to understand that the body she currently occupied belonged to the sixth young miss of the Sheng household — given name Sheng Minglan.
A secondary-born young miss without any backing — and now, on top of everything, with something of a burned-out brain, sitting in a dazed stupor and unable to speak a proper word. The servants naturally paid her not the slightest regard. Added to that, the Sheng Mansion had been in an uproar these days — preparations for the move on one side, sorting and counting money and valuables on the other. The older serving women and household managers were all run off their feet, with no time to supervise this group of young maidservants. Most of the maids were born into the household and grew up there — they knew every piece of household gossip inside and out — and these third-tier maids were not kept to strict discipline to begin with. When they chatted idly, they never bothered to speak carefully or avoid sensitive topics. This suited Yao Yiyi’s purposes rather well, and for these past ten or more days she had been listening to their conversations like an ongoing serialized drama — two ears stuffed full of the Sheng Mansion’s every petty and trivial detail.
Sheng Minglan’s birth father — and the master of this Sheng Mansion — was named Sheng Hong. He had passed both rounds of the imperial examinations, currently held the full sixth rank, and was about to be promoted to Prefect of Dengzhou. He had been born of a secondary line, and the old woman in the western courtyard was his formal mother. He had one wife and goodness knew how many concubines — Yao Yiyi could not quite determine the exact number, as the little maidservants told their stories with very little logic or order, and she had not been able to follow the count clearly.
First, the wife: the formal Madam of the Sheng household was a Wang Shi — daughter of the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue. This marriage, it must be said, had been something of a match above Sheng Hong’s station. The Wang Family was a household of hereditary officials and scholars going back generations, while at the time of the marriage, the old master of the Sheng household — that is, Sheng Hong’s own father — had already passed away, leaving Sheng Hong as nothing more than a freshly minted examination graduate. This was, however, not an insurmountable obstacle — because of the Old Madam of the Sheng household. Her own origins were more distinguished than even the Wang Family: she was the legitimate eldest daughter of the household of the Viscount of Courageous Steadfastness. And the late old master had once been renowned throughout the land as the third-ranked scholar at the imperial examination. And so the Wang patriarch had scratched his head, deliberated carefully, and ultimately consented to the match.
After the marriage, Wang Shi had given birth to the eldest daughter Sheng Hualan — just at the age where talk of a marriage match might begin — and the eldest son Sheng Changbai, who was somewhere around the age of completing primary schooling. Below these two was a younger daughter, Sheng Rulan, who appeared to be roughly the same age as the body Yao Yiyi currently occupied.
Now as for the many concubines — the first one to be spoken of was naturally the legendary Lin Yiniang, for whom applause and flowers were very much in order. She may also have been surnamed Lin, but she was quite a different caliber from that other Miss Lin — the frail young woman of the famous novel. The distance between them in practical ability was simply not in the same league — rather like comparing two entirely different magnitudes of capability. That other Miss Lin had only her grandmother’s patronage and her father’s family wealth to rely upon, and in the end met nothing but a tragic end. Yet look at Lin Yiniang — entering the Sheng household with nothing to her name, building from scratch, and somehow transforming a household in which she was the suppressed and marginalized one into a position of considerable prosperity and security. She had gone from having nothing to achieving a comfortable standing — an achievement even more astonishing than the results of an economic reform. This distinguished lady had produced one son and one daughter: Young Master Sheng Changfeng and Miss Sheng Molan. Their ages were uncertain — somewhere in the range between Sheng Changbai and Sheng Rulan.
There also seemed to be a Ping Yiniang and a Xiang Yiniang, and among them Xiang Yiniang had a son called Sheng Changdong, also of undetermined age. As for the concubines who had no children — Yao Yiyi had no knowledge of them at all. Please do not blame Yao Yiyi for this rather passively disengaged approach to her transmigration — her arrival in this world had truly been quite miserable.
Have you watched the series of Hong Kong legal dramas centered on Courtroom Number One? Sharp tongues crossing like blades, love and hate and passion and conflict — what a stimulating professional arena. Do you see the beautiful young woman there, robed as a barrister? No, no — Yao Yiyi is not that barrister. Do you see the upright and incorruptible judge ahead of that barrister? No, no — Yao Yiyi has not yet earned that position. Please, follow the line of sight downward. To the lower right of the judge there is a person bent over a desk, typing and writing — yes. Yao Yiyi was a court clerk. A glorious and dedicated court clerk of the People’s Court.
After graduating from a political science and law university, Yao Yiyi had sat for the civil service examination — cut her way through a battlefield of thousands, squeezed through the eye of a needle — and ultimately succeeded in joining a local court conveniently close to home. This iron rice bowl of a position was the envy of all her close female classmates. The court was composed of a case acceptance division, criminal division, civil division, adjudication supervision division, and enforcement bureau. Yao Yiyi had the fortune of being selected by a senior presiding judge with a fondness for building a team of women — and was assigned as a court clerk to the busiest of all: the civil division.
The work of a court was an entirely different thing from what was depicted in Hong Kong dramas. Yao Yiyi was not required to speak in court, not required to make judgments. Aside from continuously recording and cataloguing evidence, she was very nearly invisible. Her name did appear on the final verdict documents, however. The matters she handled most frequently were the division of family property and the contesting of inheritances — experiences that had visited considerable world-weariness upon her young soul.
Occasionally, Yao Yiyi would encounter a rather handsome barrister colleague or a court prosecutor with an admirable bearing. Unfortunately, in the face of the formidable female barristers who dominated those spaces, Yao Yiyi had no opportunity to shine whatsoever. And so, on the day that word came that both of those gentlemen already had girlfriends, Yao Yiyi — her soul having undergone a kind of elevation — bravely informed the presiding judge that she was willing to volunteer for a year of service in a remote region.
There existed a practice known as the “circuit court” — for remote impoverished mountain areas where transportation was extremely inconvenient, entering the town might take several days or even a week. If the plaintiff lacked the tenacity of a legendary village woman who walked hundreds of miles to file her complaint, they would generally let the matter drop. And so came the circuit court: in earlier times, dedicated judges would lead their team members on horseback or mule, carrying the necessary documents and official seals, making their way on foot through villages and mountain passes into places no vehicle could reach, convening hearings on-site according to the summonses issued. In sum, this was arduous work. Local courts were frequently short-handed and required support from courts in neighboring cities.
Yao Yiyi’s direct superior — the presiding judge — had fallen just one breath short of being awarded a deputy-bureau-level appointment. She was determined to go, and she clenched her teeth. But the other women in the office would not hear of it: those without boyfriends were busy finding them; those with boyfriends were busy keeping close watch on them — no one was willing to go. It was at this moment that Yao Yiyi stepped forward, and the presiding judge was so moved she was nearly in tears.
When Yao Yiyi’s mother — who had spent fifteen-plus years as a neighborhood women’s committee head — heard her daughter’s decision, she immediately wanted to drag her to the hospital to have her brain checked. Her successful, driven older brother thundered at her over the phone. Only Yao Yiyi’s father, a government worker with lofty ideals, found his daughter’s decision entirely admirable and principled — and after he carefully analyzed the advantages and disadvantages of the remote service assignment, Yao Yiyi’s mother finally came around.
In truth, Yao Yiyi was not motivated by the possibility of a promotion after the year was up. She simply felt that her life had been proceeding along a track that was far too regimented and predictable — following every prescribed step right on schedule. Primary school through to university, then work, then marriage and children — an entire life spent within a carefully arranged and orderly environment. Life was comfortable, yes, but it lacked the essential texture of lived experience. She wanted to go to different places, to see and walk through them, to understand people whose worlds were different from her own.
A year later, Yao Yiyi had endured every hardship imaginable — and now, filled with a heart full of satisfaction and pride, just as she was finally able to return to the city, the local area was suddenly hit with days upon days of torrential rain. When one day finally broke clear, the presiding judge hurried the team into a small minivan and set off at once to make up for lost time — and along the way, they encountered a landslide. A cursed, heaven-sent landslide.
Lying in this bed, having changed her shell entirely, Yao Yiyi had only one thought to express: protect the forests. Protecting mountain forests is everyone’s responsibility. Those who recklessly chop and destroy — may their line end with them.