“Did she really say that?” Lin Yiniang had changed into a half-new stone-blue satin jacket embroidered with white magnolia blossoms, a honey-amber teardrop-shaped gold hairpin pinned at her temple. She reclined against the end of the kang, a scroll open in her hand — yet her eyes were fixed on her daughter seated beside the kang table.

Molan nodded, slowly settling against the other end to rest. Her expression was unsettled. Lin Yiniang’s eyes flickered with a measure of admiration, and she smiled: “To think a sparrow would hatch a phoenix’s egg — Wei Yiniang was such a timid, yielding creature, yet she produced a daughter like this. It must be all Grandmother Sheng’s raising.”

The curtain stirred, and a maid entered carrying a small tray of black pear wood, a gilded cup upon it. Molan accepted it and took a gentle sip, nodding in approval: “This one tastes good. Those bird’s nest cups sent up to the Weirui Pavilion last time were small and broken — no flavor at all.” She waved the maid away, set down the cup, and said softly: “Mother, do you think what Minglan said can be trusted?”

Lin Yiniang smoothed a strand of hair at her temple and gave a light, contemptuous hum: “Trust it, and don’t trust it. I know Grandmother Sheng’s temperament — in her eyes, no decent person ever comes out of a life of wealth and ease. If Minglan turns out the same way in the future, she’ll be of no real conflict to you. But then again, one can never be certain. These past few years, just look at how she dotes on that little girl — she’s come back to life. She’s stopped fasting, loosened up, become animated — all because she’s afraid she won’t last long enough to see the sixth girl married off, so she’s been preserving herself with all her might.”

Molan’s heart stirred. “Mother, she sent those two maids over today — could it be that…”

Lin Yiniang looked at Molan, her eyes brimming with pride: “That’s my girl — sharp and quick, you catch on in an instant! Ever since Minglan moved into the Hall of Longevity, that old woman stopped pretending to be above it all. The way she’s been indulging that little girl — tsk, tsk. New clothes one day, new jewelry the next: hairpins from Cuibao Pavilion, jade from the Glass Gallery, brocades from Ruihe Xiang, and bird’s nest, cloud ear, fat geese and plump ducks sent in like they cost nothing at all! Whatever exceeded the standard allowance she paid from her own pocket — never touched the household accounts, so no one could say a word.”

Molan thought of the furnishings in the Studio of Dusk and Green — few in number, but every piece exquisite and of evident provenance. She felt a twinge of resentment. Lin Yiniang grew more vexed the more she spoke, and her tone turned contemptuous: “…Hmph. I was blind back then — I actually thought she was some grand, magnanimous and virtuous woman, giving away all her assets to children not of her own flesh, then retreating to fast and pray. Never imagined she’d kept a hand in reserve! And all the while putting on that insufferable look of being everyone’s great benefactress, playing the impoverished widow to fool people — if I’d had a generous dowry, who couldn’t marry well? If she hadn’t kept it hidden from me back then, I wouldn’t have had to…!”

This time Molan did not respond to a single word. She looked at her birth mother fuming away, and only the corner of her mouth moved as a thought passed through her mind: Your surname is Lin. Grandmother Sheng’s surname is Xu. This household’s surname is Sheng. She’s supposed to take from her private savings to fund your dowry…?

Lin Yiniang flung down the scroll, sat upright, and said with a cold laugh: “Hmph — no matter. All these years, I’ve long had my eye on what the old woman has spent on the sixth girl. It’s just that the Hall of Longevity is guarded by her like an iron cage — no one can be planted inside, and no one can be bought. Whether she has money at all, or how much, is entirely beyond knowing. All things considered, the only approach is through the sixth girl…”

Molan heard this, and a sudden unexpected sense of satisfaction rose in her heart. She smiled: “Having someone go and take a sounding isn’t a bad idea. No reason to let that little girl benefit from everything. No matter how much the old woman dotes on her, she still has to keep to propriety — there’s more than one Sheng daughter in this household. Are she and I just dead, to let every last bit of gold and silver go to that one girl alone?”

Lin Yiniang shook her head: “It won’t come to gold and silver mountains. Back when the old master died early, there was quite a mess left behind. After Grandmother Sheng had herself registered under his name, she and the master’s estate fought a thorough legal battle — nearly alarmed the proper authorities, and quite a bit of property was lost in it. After that she gave the estate back to the master’s family in good order. Even if she has money, it can’t amount to all that much. Just wait and see — a temperament like hers, always scraping and hoarding and seizing advantages wherever she can — sooner or later she’ll manage to offend the old woman again! Ha ha…”

Lin Yiniang pressed herself against the bolster pillow and laughed for a moment, then slowly let the laughter fade, and turned to face Molan with a serious expression: “From now on, stop opposing the sixth girl directly. From what I saw today, she’s not someone easily provoked. Be on good terms with her as sisters — the master and Grandmother Sheng will both be pleased. Don’t be like Rulan, always picking fights and making everyone dislike her. However — if you can stir Rulan up to quarrel with her, that would be best of all.”

Molan’s eyes brightened: “Mother is right. Rulan is exactly the same as ever — a firecracker temperament, lights up at a single spark, easy to manipulate!” Then her expression dimmed somewhat. “It’s just that Elder Brother is nothing like her — his thoughts run deep and he reads people well, and he’s doing so well with his studies. It’s our own brother who’s too impulsive and restless. Master Zhuang has also said his foundation isn’t solid, that he doesn’t study properly, and prefers socializing with pedantic second-tier scholars.”

Lin Yiniang picked up the scroll from the kang with a smile: “Never mind what Master Zhuang says — he’s so capable, how is it he never passed the examinations himself? They say childhood brilliance doesn’t guarantee adult greatness. I don’t think Elder Brother is so extraordinary. There are men who still sit for examinations at forty — your brother is so young. Making friends and connections now will help him navigate the officialdom in the future.”

Molan picked up the bird’s nest cup and sipped slowly, a note of worry in her voice: “Whether he makes connections or not doesn’t matter so much, I suppose. Elder Brother is coming up on the Metropolitan Examination soon — who knows, he might pass on the first try. I just hope that in two years’ time our brother will also do well in the Autumn Examination.”

Lin Yiniang suddenly furrowed her brow, thinking of the few little vixens in her son’s quarters — always dressed in red and green, powdering and rouging themselves all day, nothing but temptations waiting to lead her son astray. Perhaps it was time to…

The very day after Yinxing and Jiu’er arrived at the Studio of Dusk and Green, Grandmother Sheng made her pronouncement: there was sound reasoning to it — the sixth young miss’s existing attendants were either too old or too young and were not adequate to the task. Cuiwei, a second-rank maid from the Hall of Longevity, was also to be reassigned to the sixth young miss’s service. When the older ones were eventually matched for marriage, the younger ones would just be ready to step up.

Minglan sat on the wooden kang in the right side room, a row of maids standing before her. On one side were the newly arrived Cuiwei, Yinxing, and Jiu’er; on the other were Danju and Xiaotao; below them stood the smaller maids. Minglan smiled and said: “…I’ll be relying on all of you elder sisters from here on. The few who’ve been with me were with me since childhood — I never really managed them properly, and they don’t know much about proper conduct. You sisters are all capable girls who’ve been at Grandmother’s and the mistress’s side, so I’ll be troubling you to take them under your wing. Our courtyard may be small, but everything is in order, and all conduct must follow the rules. Cuiwei sister was trained by Nanny Fang herself — the younger sisters below will be in your hands from now on.”

Cuiwei had a clean, oval face and appeared steady and good-natured. She said: “Listen to what the young miss says — once we’re all in the same courtyard, we’re all one household. I’ll take the liberty of speaking with some authority, being older, and I only hope the other sisters won’t find me too overbearing.” Though her words were addressed to all the maids, her eyes were directed specifically at Yinxing and Jiu’er.

Yinxing’s delicate melon-seed face was somewhat pale; Jiu’er kept her head lowered, and seen from the side, her small mouth was ever so slightly pursed.

Danju glanced at Xiaotao — still as guileless as ever — then looked over at Minglan. She sat small and upright at the head of the room. Perhaps because the move had been exhausting, or perhaps from the sorrow of parting with Grandmother Sheng, she had grown noticeably thinner since the New Year. The round white chubbiness of her face had given way to graceful, soft contours, revealing a slender and elegant neck; her pair of eyes seemed all the larger for it, deep and dark and still as a fathomless pool. What thoughts lay hidden behind those clear, luminous eyes?

When they had first moved out of the Hall of Longevity, Grandmother Sheng had not failed to notice that the young miss’s staff was sorely lacking. Danju herself and Xiaotao, along with the four green-clad maids, were all about the same age as Minglan; Nanny Cui had family obligations and could not be in the inner quarters day and night. So at the time, Grandmother Sheng had wanted to send someone over — either Cuixi or Cuiwei. But Minglan had refused.

“…Wait a while first. I’ll ask Grandmother for someone myself when the time comes — it can’t be settled yet.” Minglan’s expression had carried a mischievous, childlike air, yet with a bitter undertone to it. “We have to wait for the other side to make their move before we can respond accordingly.”

At the time only Grandmother Sheng and Nanny Fang had understood, exchanging a wry smile and shaking their heads. Danju had been thoroughly confused — and only now, looking back, did she understand. Wang Shi was the legitimate mistress of all the household’s young masters and misses; it was entirely natural for her to involve herself in the affairs of the Studio of Dusk and Green, and even Grandmother Sheng could say nothing against it. The young miss had anticipated all along that someone would be sent — and had left this gap on purpose.

Sure enough — on the very first day of paying respects, two maids were dispatched. The moment Yinxing and Jiu’er entered the Studio of Dusk and Green, they immediately assumed the bearing of elder sisters over Danju, who was younger than them — and being sent by the mistress, Danju would have had to yield control of the young miss’s inner rooms. Fortunately, the Hall of Longevity had received word at once and promptly sent Cuiwei over — whose age and seniority were just enough to outrank Yinxing and Jiu’er by one degree, and who came from Grandmother Sheng’s own side besides.

Danju let out a quietly relieved breath. Back in the Hall of Longevity, the younger girls had always followed Cuixi and Cuiwei around for various tasks — they were familiar faces, nothing to be anxious about. Her admiration for the young miss deepened, mixed with a new and fond affection.

“…Leave the gap open, so they can fill it with someone suitable. If Cuixi or Cuiwei had been here from the beginning, they’d only send someone of even higher standing — and then what? A contest between grandmother and daughter-in-law? I can only hope I’m thinking the worst of people.” Minglan had said this slowly, word by word, holding Grandmother Sheng’s hand, her expression open and unguarded, her voice carrying a note of bitterness.

At the time Danju had been standing at the doorway and nearly had her heart stop at those words. Grandmother Sheng commanded decades of authority — even the most favored Hualan, the eldest young miss, had never dared to speak so plainly to her about everything. Goodness gracious, young miss — Grandmother Sheng was not your grandmother alone; there were things one simply could not say outright. And yet — Grandmother Sheng had not been angry in the slightest. She had drawn Minglan close and held her for a long, long while.

Later, Danju had quietly asked Nanny Fang whether the old woman would be displeased. Nanny Fang sighed and said: The sixth young miss is truly perceptive.

Grandmother Sheng had lived for the greater part of her life and seen every manner of person, every kind of hidden scheme. The sixth young miss had always been clever and well-behaved since she was small — yet with Grandmother Sheng alone she hid nothing. Good things, bad things, open things, hidden things — she laid her heart out bare and clean. That was the trust one only gave to those one loved most dearly. Of all Grandmother Sheng’s many grandchildren, why did she love the sixth young miss so exceptionally? Because she alone gave Grandmother Sheng true filial love with a whole, sincere heart.

Danju heard this and took it deeply to heart. As maids, were they not the same?

Yinxing had a pleasant, friendly nature — she liked to talk, laugh, and inquire about things. She often followed Cuiwei’s lead and was obliging, and was happy to help with tasks. Within two days she had become familiar with the younger maids. Jiu’er had a somewhat spoiled temperament and preferred to handle her own tasks independently; she and Xiaotao got along very well.

“What do you make of Yinxing?” Minglan sat in the right side room practicing calligraphy. Cuiwei and Danju were tidying the bookshelves; Xiaotao sat across the kang table, winding thread for her. At the question, Xiaotao looked up: “She seems quite friendly and easy to get along with.”

“Foolish girl — aren’t you afraid of being taken in? Who knows if she’s getting close to you for a reason.” Danju turned and immediately replied.

“What reason would there be? I haven’t said a single word about the young miss’s business — Nanny Fang’s ruler has taught me well enough.” Xiaotao rubbed the palm of her own hand, still wary at the memory.

“Xiaotao has been governed by Nanny Fang all these years — she won’t easily speak of the young miss’s affairs.” Cuiwei stepped lightly to the doorway, lifted the curtain, and glanced outside, then turned back with a reassured look. “Young miss is concerned only about Yinxing — does that mean you’re unconcerned about Jiu’er?”

Minglan smiled: “Think carefully — who is Jiu’er’s mother? And what is Yinxing’s background?”

“A maid’s background,” Xiaotao said, hopping off the kang and nudging Cuiwei up onto it. Cuiwei demurred briefly, then settled herself along the edge of the kang.

Jiu’er was in fact Nanny Liu Kun’s youngest daughter — she was very much loved at home, and had originally been intended to serve Rulan in the Weirui Pavilion as a personal maid. But Rulan’s temper was difficult and Jiu’er had a pampered nature; one misstep, and punishing Jiu’er would wound her mother’s feelings, while offending Rulan would displease Wang Shi. Sending her to Molan was absolutely out of the question, which left only Minglan.

Danju came over and pulled Xiaotao to sit with her on the small footstool below: “Nanny Fang always says that Nanny Liu is a sensible woman. She probably just wanted to find a peaceful posting for Jiu’er — she wouldn’t send her own daughter to do anything underhanded. It’s Yinxing who’s the concern. She has no roots in the household, so she has to do something in order to earn merit and make her mark.”

Cuiwei looked at Danju with considerable appreciation, thinking to herself that this was indeed the young miss’s trusted confidante — when Minglan suddenly said from across the room: “It’s a mother’s heart for her child. Jiu’er has a mother like that — that’s a kind of blessing.”

Danju was still young and was absorbed in puzzling over what to do about Yinxing; but Cuiwei was fifteen, and her face flushed faintly. The thought came to her at once: if Nanny Liu had wanted to climb higher, she would have sent her daughter to the eldest young master’s side. That she had sent her to the sixth young miss’s instead meant she had no wish for her daughter to become a concubine. When Jiu’er was grown, she wanted to find her a proper match from a respectable household and see her married out of the Studio of Dusk and Green with dignity.

Minglan looked at Cuiwei’s contemplative expression, then at Danju, who had always been like a sister to her, and suddenly understood Yinxing’s striving. Something wistful came over her, and she said: “It isn’t easy for girls to make their way in this world. We’ve all come together here for a time — I’ll do my best to find each of you a good future when the time comes, just as Grandmother Sheng has done for Cuiwei.”

Cuiwei’s face immediately went red. Danju, however, pulled a straight face, gave Minglan a reproachful glare, and said: “Call yourself a mistress? Teasing your own maid like this — Cuiwei sister is already betrothed! The real thing you ought to do is give her a generous dowry when the time comes, in exchange for Cuiwei sister coming all the way from the Hall of Longevity to support you here!” With that she cast a sidelong, teasing look at Cuiwei.

Cuiwei had been nodding along earnestly at the first part, thinking Danju was quite teachable — then the second half landed, and she realized she was also being made fun of. She said in mock indignation: “Young miss, never mind any other dowry — just give me this little hussy to be my younger brother’s wife!”

Danju erupted in fury and lunged at her; Cuiwei darted behind Minglan for cover; Minglan immediately suffered the consequences of being caught in the middle. The three of them tumbled and jostled and laughed until they were a heap of happy chaos.