The next morning, Minglan did not manage to hold her lesson with Changdong, because both Rulan and Molan had arrived early. Taking advantage of the fact that Sheng Lao had not yet risen, they had both slipped into the right side room that served as the study. Minglan took one look at the situation, gave Danju a quiet look. Danju understood and went to wait at the outer door for Changdong — to tell him: no class today.

Molan had arrived first. After twisting and turning for quite a while, working her way through complimenting every corner of Minglan’s study from start to finish, she finally made her purpose plain — she hoped to swap seats with Minglan. Minglan knew perfectly well what was going on, but said with an innocent air: “Oh? Was it not Fourth elder sister yourself who wanted to sit by the left wall? You said the light comes from that direction, and since your health is delicate, too much sun makes your head swim.”

Which had left Minglan herself sitting in direct sunlight until she was dizzy and seeing spots — though thankfully Sheng Lao had later found a bolt of deep-colored gauze in the storeroom and had it pasted over all the windows in the hall.

Molan’s face was half-flushed, and she was still humming and hawing without producing a clear explanation when Rulan arrived. She was far more straightforward: she walked straight to the point and asked to swap seats with Minglan: “The middle is too dim. The window seat gets more light!”

Minglan found this privately hilarious, and deliberately clapped her hands with an exaggerated smile: “Then why not simply swap seats with each other? Fifth elder sister can sit in the bright spot, and Fourth elder sister won’t have to worry about her head swimming.”

Molan’s expression soured. She twisted her handkerchief in her hands and said nothing. Rulan did not understand at first, but when she found out that Molan had also come to swap seats, her face dropped a full chi as well. They glared at each other in a standoff, while Minglan wore a face of pure innocence. “I really don’t mind where I sit,” she said. “But which of the two elder sisters should get it?” For some reason, Minglan felt a thoroughly wicked little thrill of amusement.

Both Molan and Rulan calculated for a long while, then looked at Minglan — who was still a bundle of childlike straightforwardness. They concluded that she was the least threatening of the three. Final verdict: nobody would swap with anybody.

At this age, the girls’ appearances had begun to change. Molan had grown taller and more willowy, graceful in bearing, delicate as a slender willow, with a touch of gentle melancholy and soft petulance. Rulan took after Wang Shi — her figure was healthy and shapely, roughly the same height as Molan, and though she could not match Molan’s beauty, she was fresh-faced and full of youthful vigor. Only Minglan was still in her round, white, chubby little dumpling phase. Minglan touched her nose. Genetics — nothing to do with her.

From this day on as well, the era of the sisters all dressing alike came to a definitive end.

Molan wore a small flowing-cloud chignon, adorned with a pair of coral, turquoise, and amber beaded flowers, with a fresh white magnolia blossom pressed at her temple. Her robe was an autumn-yellow-green thin satin gauze embroidered with long-stemmed flowers. At each wrist jangled a pair of silver-wire-wrapped jade bracelets, chiming softly as she moved — young and tender as a jade magnolia in full bloom. Rulan’s double-ring chignon was pinned with a colorful glazed butterfly hairpin, long strings of jeweled fringe swaying brilliantly. She wore a cross-collared five-color woven-pattern skirt and robe, with a large pearl strung on fine gold thread dangling from each ear — lively and beautiful. So dressed, she was every bit as striking as Molan.

The two young misses were dressed with elegant refinement, not overly showy. Minglan watched them with a somewhat dazed expression, and felt a quiet surge of gratitude that she had been wise enough that morning to ask Nanny Cui to put her hair in small round bun coils — round and tidy, with a few coral-bead strings wound around them, which was perfectly cute.

Qi Heng arrived early as well, accompanied by several young manservants and study attendants. He wore a moon-white inner robe beneath a navy blue long sleeveless overcoat embroidered at the collar with crashing waves and auspicious-beast patterns, nipped at the waist. Against his snow-white complexion and upright bearing, the effect was striking. Molan’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. She walked over gracefully, gentle and fluid as still water, and said: “Yuan Ruo elder brother — I had a sudden insight last night and wrote a poem. I wonder if it is well-composed? Would Yuan Ruo elder brother be so kind as to look it over?”

With that, she drew a flower-bordered page from her sleeve and held it out. But Qi Heng did not take it. He smiled instead and said: “Fourth young miss has two elder brothers who are both very talented — why not ask them?” Molan was momentarily at a loss, but recovered quickly: “Master Zhuang is always praising Yuan Ruo elder brother’s exceptional talent — that is precisely why younger sister wishes to seek your guidance. Why must elder brother be so stingy as to withhold even a single word of comment?” Her lips curved into a small pout — naturally sweet and charming.

Qi Heng accepted the page and read it through carefully. Molan stood naturally at his elbow, drawing near and speaking in a low, gentle voice. Then Changfeng walked over as well, and the three of them discussed tonal patterns and antithetical structure. Changbai remained where he was, quietly murmuring lines to himself, and did not join in.

Rulan had been watching from the sidelines with cool composure, her small face poised and dignified, her spine perfectly straight. Last night, Nanny Liu and Wang Shi had told her that a truly respectable young lady of good breeding never casually spoke to others first — if anything, it should be Qi Heng who came to speak to her. A young miss of quality ought to hold herself with reserve. Watching Molan carry on like this, Rulan felt such gnawing fury in her heart that she ground her teeth in silence — and only sat all the straighter and more haughtily.

Minglan lowered her head and silently recited “form is emptiness.”

The moment Master Zhuang entered the hall and took in a roomful of sparkling jewels and bright adornments, he gave no outward reaction and began his lesson. Qi Heng made for an exceptionally fine front-row desk companion — his tall frame nearly blocked Minglan from view entirely. With such a convenient screen in front of her, Minglan happily dozed in the shelter behind it. She had already been worn out by the morning’s fuss with Molan and Rulan, and once you give in to drowsiness, genuine sleep has a way of following. When she came to, she found a pair of bright eyes looking at her with amusement.

“Did Sixth younger sister sleep well?” Qi Heng looked at the rosy little face resting on the desk and the pair of small chubby paws, and smiled cheerfully. Minglan gave a foolish laugh or two: “Not bad, not bad.” She came fully awake, looked around her, and found that class had ended — everyone was packing up their books and directing their young manservants and maids to tidy the paper and ink stones.

Qi Heng turned around in his seat. He folded his two long arms on Minglan’s desk, smiling as he leaned forward: “Sixth younger sister seems to have slept very soundly. You must have been up all night reading and exhausted yourself.”

Minglan arranged the hair bun coils on her head and said with a brazen expression: “Not at all, not at all — it was nothing.”

The laughter in Qi Heng’s eyes deepened. Minglan continued silently reciting “form is emptiness.”

That noon, Minglan once again had no midday nap. A distinguished guest had arrived at the household: Qi Heng’s mother, Her Grace Pingning Junzhu, was paying a visit. She was currently in Shou’an Hall speaking with Sheng Lao and Wang Shi, and was waiting to see the Sheng children.

An imperially bestowed Junzhu of the first rank was truly an impressive presence. Minglan had only caught sight of the lush, leafy canopy of the osmanthus tree in Shou’an Hall from a distance when she noticed two neat rows of servants and maids standing outside the hall with heads bowed. Nanny Fang was already waiting at the entrance, and the moment she saw them she announced their arrival inside. From Changbai on down, each of them composed themselves and filed in according to their birth order in a line. Inside the main room, a richly dressed woman sat at the seat of honor to one side, across from Sheng Lao. Wang Shi was seated on a carved sea-scene hall chair with a tall back positioned below and to the side of Sheng Lao. Qi Heng stepped forward first to pay his respects to all three elders, and then stood at the richly dressed woman’s side.

“Come now, quickly bow and pay your respects to Her Grace Pingning Junzhu.” Sheng Lao gave the instruction.

All six of the Sheng children kowtowed and presented their greetings to the richly dressed woman in turn, and then stood behind Wang Shi.

Once settled, Minglan stole a glance at the Pingning Junzhu. She appeared to be just past thirty years of age, wearing a ginger-yellow thin satin cape robe embroidered all over with blooming-everywhere motifs of emerald-green sprays and crimson-pink peonies, with a moon-white gauze satin small standing-collar inner robe beneath. Below was a finely pleated ink-green long skirt, from which peeked a pair of small, pointed embroidered shoes — each of which was adorned with a pearl the size of a fingertip. The Junzhu’s cloud-soft hair was loosely arranged, her manner tranquil as still water, and her features — fine flying brows, slender eyes — were breathtakingly beautiful. On closer inspection, her features bore six or seven parts resemblance to Qi Heng. Minglan thought: no wonder the young man is so beautiful.

Her Grace Pingning Junzhu gave a gift to each of the children. Changbai and Changfeng each received a jade pendant — whether of good quality Minglan could not tell from where she stood. For Changdong, there was a little golden-and-gleaming good-fortune baby figurine. Each of the three girls received a strand of fine South Sea pearls, every bead perfectly round and luminous — of exceptional quality and value. Sheng Lao said quietly: “Your Grace is too generous — such expense puts us quite to shame.”

Her Grace Pingning Junzhu smiled and said: “The young misses are so charming — I like them all very much. Alas, I have no such good fortune myself — I have only this troublesome Heng child. Being able to give a little more today, why not? Besides… ah, it is a pity for them, is it not—”

Minglan heard this and felt her heart seize — what had happened?

Wang Shi turned with a smile to address the three misses: “Master Zhuang has already spoken to your father — from now on, the girls will no longer need to attend class with the boys. Devoting yourselves properly to needlework and proper conduct in the inner chambers — that is the right course…”

Molan felt a wave of disappointment, but glancing over at Rulan, who looked entirely calm, she realized Rulan must have known already. Her mind began turning rapidly: outside of class time, it was very difficult to find occasion to see Qi Heng. She could hardly barge into Master Zhuang’s lesson uninvited. But if she could not see Qi Heng — when it came to family background and status and the matter of legitimate versus concubine-born, what advantage did she have? Thinking of Qi Heng’s handsome features and warm, courteous manner, Molan grew more agitated and disheartened. She clenched her fists under her sleeve, and did not even hear what Wang Shi said afterward.

Minglan, on the other hand, let out a long, thoroughly relieved breath. Good — if they had gone on attending class together like this, the schoolroom would soon have been filled with smoke and fire from every direction. Amitabha — the fires of war extinguished before they could spread. May all be well, may all be well.

Then Her Grace Pingning Junzhu spoke with Sheng Lao a while longer — Wang Shi tried several times to interject but could not find an opening — and in the course of the conversation, Her Grace Pingning Junzhu smiled and said: “…Which of you is Sixth young miss of this household? My Heng child has been mentioning her with laughter when he got home.”

Minglan had been daydreaming, pleasantly imagining tomorrow morning: no class to attend; once she had seen to little Changdong and paid her respects to the Old Grandmother, she could go right back to bed and make up for lost sleep. Then, without warning, her name was called. She was somewhat nervous. Sheng Lao laughed and beckoned Minglan over: “There — this little troublemaker. Because she is raised at my side, I never had the time to properly manage her — wild as anything under the sky.”

Her Grace Pingning Junzhu took Minglan’s small hand and looked her over carefully. Seeing Minglan’s round, white, chubby, and adorably dazed little face — soft and round as a plump little squirrel, with tender little hands that were very pleasant to hold — she said: “What a delightful child — no wonder Grandmother dotes on her. I like her on sight too. …Ming young miss, tell me honestly — now that you can no longer attend Master Zhuang’s class, are you feeling displeased about it?”

Minglan caught an unexpected glimpse of the insufferably amused smile on Qi Heng’s face. She thought: what a treacherously difficult question. She could only give a sheepish laugh: “Oh, not at all, not at all…”

Qi Heng could hold back no longer. He covered his mouth and leaned close to Her Grace Pingning Junzhu’s ear to murmur something. The Junzhu was immediately delighted and pulled little Minglan into a closer embrace with a laugh: “…Well, this is good news for you — you can finally save your afternoon nap…”

The older siblings who had been attending class with her had long since noticed Minglan dozing at her desk. They all burst out laughing at once. Rulan went over and whispered it to Wang Shi. Sheng Lao thought it over briefly and understood, and pointed at Minglan with non-stop laughter: “…You little rascal — now that you’re free from class, you’re overjoyed!”

Minglan’s small face was burning crimson. She ground her teeth in silent internal fury: Qi Yuan Ruo, you went and told on me to your elders — you had better watch out or your children won’t have…

She then heard Her Grace Pingning Junzhu continue: “…Heng, you reported on her today — that can’t go unrewarded for nothing. You have no younger sister of your own. From now on, you ought to treat Ming young miss just like your own younger sister and be good to her…”

Sheng Lao gave a faint smile, and said something to the effect of “we could not presume to such an honor,” and Wang Shi’s expression changed slightly, though in a moment she had composed herself again and chimed in with all the right words, smiling along with everyone.

Minglan stole a glance at Molan and Rulan. She could see they had not yet grasped the meaning of it all, and felt a quiet flutter of something like pity.