Since managing them was getting nowhere, Cuiwei simply stopped trying for the most part and instead, together with Danju and Xiaotao, kept close guard over Minglan’s main room — for everything else, they turned a blind eye. For a time the Studio of Dusk and Green became a house without a master: the younger maids below had learned from each other’s example and were either out playing or going over to other courtyards to gossip and chat. Only Yancao and her few companions still dutifully tended to their duties — years of Nanny Fang’s training had not gone to waste.

In the inner quarters, women’s conflicts were all a contest of patience. Minglan could hold out. Someone else could not. Nanny Liu Kun came knocking first, dropping hints both obvious and subtle to Minglan that she should properly discipline the maids in her courtyard.

Minglan replied with great naivety: “They’ve all been very good — is something the matter?”

Nanny Liu swallowed her frustration and managed: “Even setting aside that Mei’er showing your elder brother a cold face — there are also those others who spend every day dressed in red and green, bouncing about everywhere, stirring up gossip!”

Every day as Changbai and the others passed through on their way to and from lessons, a mere few steps’ detour brought them past the Studio of Dusk and Green. Cuiwei and Danju kept Minglan closely guarded inside. Yinxing, her enthusiasm having nowhere to channel itself, took to standing outside the gate every day, craning her neck as she waited. The moment she spotted Changbai she would go up to greet and salute him, even warmly inviting him to stop in at the Studio of Dusk and Green for a visit. Changbai found this unbearable, and had said a few words of complaint about it. Nanny Liu Kun, as assistant house manager, was immediately alarmed and gave Yinxing a stern reprimand. But Yinxing had lately been growing more presumptuous and actually talked back: “Mind your own business, Nanny. I belong to the sixth young miss now. The young miss hasn’t said anything to me — what does it have to do with you?”

Nanny Liu Kun was furious to the point of wanting to spit blood. Minglan said with feigned difficulty and hesitation: “Yinxing is simply too eager to please — and besides, she was someone the mistress assigned to me. How can I not give her some face?”

Nanny Liu Kun went away resentfully. Danju immediately said: “Young miss, we can deal with those girls now!”

Minglan shook her head with a smile: “The time isn’t right yet.”

Two more days passed. Wang Shi deliberately kept Minglan back after the morning greeting and gave her a long and pointed lecture: “The little maid in your courtyard — that Ke’er — has apparently been getting overly familiar with your brother in public. Don’t you exercise any discipline?” What she actually had in mind was Yinxing, who had been appearing before Changbai with increasing frequency.

Minglan continued to play innocent: “Ke’er originally served in my brother’s quarters — he was generous enough to send her to me. If I punish her, won’t my brother be displeased with me?” Wang Shi was at once exasperated and sympathetic, and heartily encouraged Minglan to act. Minglan hesitated and hedged and made vague, reluctant sounds.

Xiaotao helped Minglan out of the main courtyard and said excitedly: “Young miss, now even the mistress has spoken — surely we can deal with those girls now?”

Minglan still smiled and said: “Wait a little longer — be patient.”

Minglan counted on her fingers for a few more days, and at last it was Sheng Hong’s day of rest from official duties. The whole family rose early to pay their respects to Grandmother Sheng, and Minglan had deliberately dressed somewhat untidily for the occasion. After the greetings were exchanged and everyone seated by age and rank, Grandmother Sheng sat at the head with a black expression, silent. Sheng Hong, seeing that she looked displeased, asked what the matter was.

Grandmother Sheng pointed at Minglan and said with displeasure: “Ask the sixth girl — her Studio of Dusk and Green is nearly being turned upside down by that unruly pack of girls, and she won’t do anything to set it right.”

Sheng Hong was taken aback: “Is that so? Minglan — what is going on?”

Minglan rose to her feet with a meek and helpless expression. Wang Shi’s heart jumped inwardly — she knew the Studio of Dusk and Green had been in some disorder lately; quite a few house matrons had come to her about it. Grandmother Sheng was bound to hear sooner or later, and the fact that Minglan had never gone to the old woman to complain gave Wang Shi a degree of quiet approval of her.

Before anyone else could speak, Minglan started to hem and haw, her eyes quietly darting between Changfeng and Molan — but said nothing coherent at all. It was Rulan who lost patience first, loudly declaring: “Father, let me say it! Sixth Sister is far too gentle — she just lets the maids in her room run riot. Now the younger maids in the Studio of Dusk and Green are useless for any task, large or small. They play in the garden, ignore the courtyard and the rooms, can’t be directed to do anything, and spend all their time gossiping and causing trouble. My own senior maid said something to them and got snapped at for her trouble!”

Sheng Hong slapped his thigh in irritation: “Minglan! How can you not manage your own household?”

This was the first time Sheng Hong had ever entertained a complaint from Rulan, and she was greatly encouraged by it. Before Minglan could respond, Rulan jumped in again: “The two in Sixth Sister’s room who cause the most trouble are the ones our brother sent her — how can Sixth Sister possibly manage them?”

Sheng Hong, hearing that Lin Yiniang was involved, felt a moment’s hesitation, and cast a sideways glance at Changfeng beside him with his head bowed, then a suspicious glance at Wang Shi. Wang Shi saw his expression and understood that he was once again suspecting her of using Lin Yiniang as a pretext. She was furious, but barely managed to contain it, and forced a smile: “Rulan, don’t talk nonsense. Your brother must have chosen the very best girls before sending them to your sister.”

Rulan immediately countered: “I am not talking nonsense! One of those two little maids has eyes higher than the sky and actually dared to give Elder Brother a cold face; the other puts on airs and plays the invalid, sick every other day and requiring someone to attend her, carrying on so grandly she almost outdoes her own mistress! Minglan, you say — have I made any of this up?” She grabbed Minglan’s arm and demanded she be the witness.

Minglan put on a woeful expression: “Perhaps I’ve done something to make them feel ill at ease there. Never mind offending our elder brother — I’ve also troubled Nanny Liu to personally go back and forth calling in physicians and writing prescriptions five whole times for our courtyard. In just the dozen or so days since Ke’er arrived, she’s fallen ill five times. Fortunately, our brother comes often to check on Ke’er, and with his visits she recovers a bit faster.”

“Is that so?!” Sheng Hong was astonished.

Grandmother Sheng said coldly: “…Just two days ago, someone saw it — there in the entrance to the Studio of Dusk and Green, in broad daylight, a maid pulling at Changbai right there in public. What sort of decorum is that?” Wang Shi’s inward fury ignited. Her fingers dug sharply into the peony-embroidered armrest cushion of her chair.

A father knows his sons best. Sheng Hong looked up at Changbai’s rigid, stony expression, then at Changfeng’s guilty one, and knew the account was true. He silently cursed Lin Yiniang for being insufferable — if she wanted to rid herself of maids she found displeasing, why drag Minglan into it? Molan was secretly anxious, desperately casting meaningful glances at Changfeng, while saying out loud with a smile: “Father, don’t be upset — it’s a small matter. Just give those thoughtless maids a good scolding afterward, and it’s done. Why be angry? And Sixth Sister — regardless of who sent the maids, once they’ve entered the Studio of Dusk and Green, they’re your servants to command. You can hit them or scold them as you see fit. Perhaps you’re too easygoing and soft, and they’ve taken it as a weakness.”

Changfeng, receiving Molan’s eye signal, immediately added with a sheepish expression, addressing Minglan: “I’ve caused trouble for Sixth Sister — but those two have always been well-behaved in my quarters. They’re probably just not used to the new place. Sister can just have a word with them — they’re both quite clever and capable.”

A few easy words, and the matter was being smoothed over. Rulan’s lip curled with contempt where she sat, giving a cold laugh to herself. Grandmother Sheng’s fury suddenly broke like a storm. She brought her hand down on the table with a resounding slap, raised her voice, and declared: “What sort of talk is this? ‘A small matter’? ‘Too easygoing and soft’?! You siblings — look at Minglan! She’s been out of my rooms barely twenty days, and this is what things have come to! Is the mistress supposed to yield to her own maids?! Insolent servants bullying their master — and it’s the sixth girl who’s in the wrong?!”

Changfeng and Molan, seeing Grandmother Sheng’s fury, immediately rose to their feet and stood respectfully to one side.

Sheng Hong looked over and saw that Minglan had indeed grown considerably thinner — her chin had gone pointed, her face pale and wan, utterly unlike the rosy, plump, and cheerful child she had been in the Hall of Longevity. He immediately frowned, and turned to question Wang Shi: “How have you been looking after things? Minglan’s room has been thrown into such disorder — and you said nothing?”

Wang Shi was suddenly caught up in the crossfire and said, aggrieved: “…I was thinking that the young miss was old enough to manage her own affairs now…” She had in truth been waiting for Minglan to handle Ke’er and Mei’er herself, but before she could finish, Sheng Hong cut her off: “What do you mean ‘old enough’? Minglan has been at the old woman’s side the whole time — she’s only just moved out on her own. And you haven’t even taught her how to manage servants, just standing by watching the scene unfold?!”

The words were somewhat harsh, and precisely on target. Wang Shi’s expression went very dark, and she seethed inside. Minglan, seeing that things had reached the right moment, slowly rose to her feet and said in a subdued voice: “Father, please don’t blame the mistress — she has treated me very well, even sending me two maids to help. It’s your daughter who has no ability and can’t manage her own servants.” The more she spoke, the lower and quieter her voice became, with the sound of tears behind it.

Only then did Wang Shi’s expression soften somewhat. She adopted an air of being the one wronged: “Those two maids were after all sent by Changfeng — how was I to dismiss his gesture? And with one following the example of another, the younger maids are naturally bound to go astray.” She lowered her head as she spoke, stealing a glance at Sheng Hong.

Sheng Hong thought it over and conceded she had a point. With a measure of compunction, he gave Wang Shi an appeasing look. Grandmother Sheng sat at the head of the room watching all of this unfold, a faint note of mockery surfacing at the corner of her mouth. Finally she spoke: “It would still be a kindness on your part to guide Minglan in how to set her household in order — then the girl can live a bit better.”

Sheng Hong immediately agreed: “Quite right — it’s something that should have been done.” He quietly tugged Wang Shi’s sleeve under the table. Wang Shi hastened to add: “Minglan is my daughter too — of course it falls to me to look after her.”

Changfeng was wearing an expression of worried supplication, his eyes fixed on Minglan. Minglan forced herself not to look at him, and simply stood quietly before Grandmother Sheng, taking the reprimand. Rulan cast Molan a look of provocative triumph several times; Molan’s face was blank — she cared nothing for those maids’ fates, but found it somewhat humiliating.

Wang Shi was swift and decisive — she struck while the iron was hot. That very day she brought the head matrons and Nanny Liu Kun to descend upon the Studio of Dusk and Green, seating Minglan to one side to watch. Rulan was absolutely determined to witness the spectacle and planted herself beside Minglan, watching from the inside as Wang Shi exercised her authority in the courtyard.

Nanny Liu Kun lined up every maid in the Studio of Dusk and Green, and they all stood in orderly rows in the courtyard. Wang Shi sat in the position of authority above them. Cuiwei carefully presented her with a cup of hot ginseng tea. Wang Shi took a satisfied sip and let her gaze sweep slowly over each girl in the courtyard. Though the girls had been careless and unruly in their daily conduct, they all knew today was different — they stood with hunched shoulders, lowered heads, and held their breath.

“…I made allowances for your young age, and look at how you repaid me — you took advantage of the sixth young miss’s gentle nature and climbed right over her head! What audacity!” Wang Shi slapped the armrest of her chair and delivered a sharp scolding. “Which one is Ke’er? Step forward!”

Ke’er glided forward, unsteady on her feet, wearing a water-red long-lapel damask jacket trimmed with fur — frail, delicate, and pathetically lovely. Wang Shi looked her over and gave a cold laugh: “What a ‘sickly beauty’ you are! I hear you’ve been taking medicine and falling ill every few days since you arrived, without ever fully recovering. It seems this place doesn’t agree with you. Very well — you’re demoted to third-rank maid and sent back where you came from.”

Ke’er’s heart leaped with joy — going back to Changfeng’s side, even with a demotion, was something she was only too willing to accept. She gave Wang Shi a low bow and withdrew; Wang Shi gestured, and a matron went to accompany Ke’er to pack her things.

Then Nanny Liu Kun leaned close to Wang Shi’s ear for a brief exchange. She straightened up and called out loudly: “Which one is Mei’er? Step forward!”

Mei’er clenched her jaw, straightened her back, and stepped out. She gave Wang Shi her bow. Wang Shi fixed a sharp, slanted look on her and said coldly: “What airs you carry! I hear you’ve been hitting and scolding people, arguing with the matrons, quarreling with your sisters — and even giving your own mistress a hard time!”

Mei’er trembled slightly, but held herself in and replied: “Reporting to the mistress: I — I have not dared to do such things. It’s only that the rules here are somewhat different from what I was used to, so I exchanged a few words to clarify — I was not quarreling or arguing.”

Wang Shi’s eyes sharpened to a flash. She brought her hand down hard on the armrest, and a matron beside her stepped forward immediately and delivered a resounding slap across Mei’er’s face. Mei’er’s porcelain-pale cheek swelled immediately. The matron shouted: “Wretched creature — talking back to your mistress! What kind of rule is that? Say one more word and I’ll beat your mouth shut!”

Wang Shi gave a cold snort and exchanged a glance with Nanny Liu Kun. Nanny Liu Kun read the signal and announced in a loud, clear voice: “Mei’er is fined six months’ monthly wages, demoted to third-rank maid, and — taken to the second gate, where she will receive ten strokes of the board!”

With that, several people came to take hold of the weeping, struggling Mei’er and led her out. Wang Shi picked up her teacup and stirred it slowly, with a languid, deliberate calm. Minglan sat inside without moving. Rulan watched with great satisfaction, periodically nudging Minglan’s sleeve: “Pay attention — or next time she’ll come crying to Mother for you to save her!” Minglan forced a smile of assent, and beneath her sleeve her small hand clenched into a fist.

Finally, Wang Shi had Yinxing brought forward. She looked her up and down with eyes sharp as a blade. Yinxing was already trembling with fright, her knees going weak beneath her, and she knelt right there on the spot. Wang Shi said mildly: “You came from my side. Since you seem to miss the people there so much, why don’t you just go back?” Yinxing felt the coldness threaded through those words, and in a panic began to kowtow repeatedly, but could form no words. Nanny Liu Kun wore a look of contemptuous amusement as she had the already-limp Yinxing dragged away.

Having dealt with the three ringleaders, Wang Shi gave the remaining smaller maids a few more sharp words of reprimand, then took Rulan and departed. Minglan stood nearly rigid, wearing a smile as she expressed her gratitude to Wang Shi in effusive detail and saw them out. When they were gone, the Studio of Dusk and Green fell as silent as a burial ground.

Mei’er had to be carried back. Minglan had Danju go to Nanny Fang for medicine and had it applied. Then she retreated alone to her room, lay flat on the kang, and stared up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

At noon she went to the Hall of Longevity for lunch. Grandmother and granddaughter ate through the meal in wordless silence. Seeing Minglan’s listless demeanor, Grandmother Sheng said nothing, only let her be. After the meal they sat quietly over tea. Minglan wouldn’t go back, and after sitting for a while, looking like a lost little dog that had found its way home, she trudged into Grandmother Sheng’s bedroom with drooping ears, pulled off her shoes and socks, and — small as a squirrel — rolled herself into the old woman’s warm sleeping alcove, fully clothed, burrowing under the covers.

Grandmother Sheng found it both amusing and tender, and followed her in to check on her. She found Minglan buried under the quilt without even her head showing. Hearing footsteps, Minglan lifted the edge of the coverlet, knocked twice underneath the surface, then stuck one small hand out from under the quilt and tugged at Grandmother Sheng’s sleeve. From beneath the covers came a muffled voice: “Grandmother, come take your afternoon rest with Minglan.”

Grandmother Sheng had been about to go to the Buddhist hall, but hearing this, she let out a long, quiet sigh. She sat on the edge of the bed, lifted a corner of the quilt, and dug the little person’s head out gently. She said in a warm, soft voice: “Is it all done?”

Minglan nodded with a dejected dip of her head.

Grandmother Sheng asked again: “Were you frightened?” Minglan lifted her head and shook it in a wooden manner: “No. It was expected. I knew it would go this way when I started.”

Grandmother Sheng ruffled the granddaughter’s hair and coaxed: “Then why are you making this half-dead expression?”

Minglan buried herself in her grandmother’s embrace, her entire head muffled in the sandalwood-scented fabric. Suddenly a memory surfaced of Nanny Yao, who had smelled the same way — a pang of grief rose in her chest, and she said quietly: “Grandmother, am I a bad person? I deliberately let them act up. Every time Ke’er fell ill, I spread word until our brother knew. The times Elder Brother came by were also deliberately orchestrated by me through Yinxing — after the first time Yinxing ran out and Nanny Liu came to reprimand her, I stood in front to shield Yinxing, so she felt she had nothing to fear, and would keep going out to bother Elder Brother again and again! I’d been tired of Yinxing rummaging through my things and prying into the Hall of Longevity’s affairs for a long time! I knew the mistress hated nothing more than maids pursuing Elder Brother — as long as things escalated enough, she was certain to deal harshly with Yinxing. I also knew that Lin Yiniang disliked Ke’er and only sent her here to be rid of her — and that if the opportunity arose, she would certainly want Ke’er sent back just to spite Lin Yiniang… I’ve started scheming against people myself. And yet… I don’t want to be this kind of person.”

As she said it, the bridge of her nose began to sting, and tears fell. She felt she was growing more and more like the villains in the dramas she had once watched.

Minglan lay against Grandmother Sheng’s chest, weeping softly and steadily, her tears soaking a large patch of fabric. Grandmother Sheng stroked her small, small shoulders with gentle affection and rocked her slowly, as though Minglan were still a tiny infant, cradling her head and murmuring softly in a low voice: “There, there… enough, enough. Good girl, dear Minglan — don’t cry. Who in this world doesn’t want to live with righteousness and dignity? Who doesn’t want to pass their days in peace? But how many are able to?”

Minglan heard the resignation and weariness in Grandmother Sheng’s tone, and her heart ached. From the very first time those four maids had begun their disruptions, she had been turning the matter over in her mind. Jiu’er, for all her meddling ways, was still relatively manageable — and her mother was the Sheng household’s inner quarters general manager, so she could not be touched. Mei’er’s bad temper could be dealt with gradually — most likely she would have to suffer somewhat. Ke’er was both bait and a smoke screen — useful for drawing Wang Shi in and getting rid of her in one move. The most troublesome was Yinxing — sent by Wang Shi, she could not be moved lightly, and moving her could easily cause offense. The best approach was to get the mistress to remove her herself, and the target for that was Changbai…

Minglan felt a deep self-revulsion. Her tear-stained face looked up, and she choked out: “Elder Brother treats me so well — and I even used him to scheme. I… I…”

“There was no other way.” Grandmother Sheng suddenly interrupted, her tone perfectly casual.

Minglan looked up in surprise. The old woman calmly had Nanny Fang bring water and a cloth, then turned back to Minglan’s stunned expression and said quietly: “If Changbai were your full blood-brother, would you have had to think twice?”

Of course not — she would have run straight to her brother, crying and leaning on him for support and protection. The thought struck Minglan with a hollow dread.

Having understood that point, Minglan felt even sadder. She looked at Grandmother Sheng through tear-blurred eyes — that face lined with age, calm as stone. The old woman said quietly: “You must remember this — you have no maternal family. You have no full-blood brothers. Above you is a stepmother with her own interests. Below you are sisters who outshine you. If you wish to live comfortably and freely, you must see things clearly.”

Minglan had never heard Grandmother Sheng speak to her this way before. She froze there, breathless.

At that moment Nanny Fang came in, carrying a basin of steaming water. Carefully she soaked the cloth and wrung it nearly dry. Grandmother Sheng took the warm cloth and wiped Minglan’s face with it, slowly and tenderly, her movements gentle and loving — yet her voice was startlingly cold: “If you had been born of the first wife, you would never have had to endure this — you could live with your head held high. If you had been born of Lin Yiniang, no one would dare scheme against you. If you had full-blood brothers, your family would have support for the future. …Apart from me — this old woman who has not many more days — what do you have? If you don’t scheme, you must live by giving way to others, suppressing yourself everywhere, keeping your voice low and your manner meek. Are you willing to do that?”

Minglan’s mind was in complete turmoil. She could not find a single word to say.

Grandmother Sheng returned the cloth to Nanny Fang, then took a small white jade compact, selecting some pearl almond oil, and rubbed it gently and carefully into Minglan’s soft young cheeks, working it in slowly. Feeling that Minglan’s face had lost much of its fullness, the old woman felt a twinge of sadness. She said slowly: “There is nothing to feel guilty about in scheming. As long as you haven’t deliberately harmed anyone — that is all that matters. This time, no one except those few maids was hurt in any lasting way. That’s quite well done.”

Nanny Fang stood to one side looking at Minglan, something like compassion in her expression. She said softly: “The young miss should listen carefully — everything Grandmother says is for your own good. You need to develop more foresight, and think ahead about how to properly manage your household.” Minglan was dazed, as though walking through a dream, and words slipped out of her mouth before she knew it: “Manage… Today’s discipline was enough to frighten them — what else is there to manage?”

Grandmother Sheng immediately blazed with fury. She pushed Minglan sharply aside and stood up beside the bed, her expression stern: “What they fear is the mistress — not you, the proper mistress of the household! If you cannot exert your own authority to command your servants, how do you expect to manage a household when you are married? If you yourself don’t make an effort, no one else can do it for you! Quickly — dress her properly and send her home. She may not stay here. Such a useless, spineless creature — I don’t want to see her! Go! Go!”

Saying this she swept out of the room. Under the force of her fury, her steps were slightly unsteady, her whole frame trembling a little. Nanny Fang rushed to support her. Stepping outside, she called Cuixi in to help Minglan dress. Grandmother Sheng walked away in haste and, once inside the Buddhist hall, began to breathe unevenly. Nanny Fang helped her sit down and gently rubbed her back: “…Grandmother was a little severe. The sixth young miss is just naturally gentle — she’s not entirely without sense. She understands very well in her heart.”

Grandmother Sheng caught her breath a little, and sighed with the frustration of having high hopes and being let down: “She’s clever enough. At such a young age she already understands the balance of gains and losses, doesn’t act rashly, knows to fall back before advancing. I’m perfectly easy about her living out on her own. And yet — she has such a soft-hearted nature and not a shred of decisiveness. She let the maids carry on and cause trouble without getting properly angry!”

Nanny Fang smiled: “Grandmother says this because she cares about the sixth young miss — if it were anyone else, you’d be saying they were calculating and ruthless! Don’t worry, Grandmother — the sixth young miss is gentle by nature and clever in her ways. A great deal of happiness awaits her in the future.”

Minglan walked out of the Hall of Longevity in a daze, her mind still reeling from the inexplicable scolding. In truth she wasn’t particularly guilt-stricken. She was not a saint without principles — she knew what she had done was nothing more than self-defense. What she disliked was the scheming version of herself: the sense that she had lost the free and easy state of mind she had once had, and this new self that was beginning to worry and calculate felt disagreeable.

She made her slow way back to the Studio of Dusk and Green, and as she crossed the courtyard, she said suddenly: “Go and check on Mei’er.”

She turned and walked that way. Rounding the covered veranda, she noticed all the maids were on their very best behavior today — every one of them stood with respectful deference the moment they saw Minglan. Outside the door stood a small medicine brazier; Qinsang fanned it steadily with a large cattail fan, the medicine pot bubbling with steam. Danju led Minglan into the rightmost ear room, and the moment the curtain was lifted, Minglan caught a sharp whiff of medicinal plaster. She furrowed her brow slightly. Mei’er lay face-down on the narrow bed, pale as chalk, alone. Hearing movement, she turned her head — and seeing it was Minglan, she tried to struggle up. Minglan quietly tugged at Danju, who immediately went to hold Mei’er down.

Yancao brought a padded stool from outside for Minglan to sit on, and was about to go arrange tea; Minglan stopped her: “Don’t bother — I’ll only sit a moment, then go. You all step outside — I want to say a few words to Mei’er.” Danju drew the small maids out with her.

In the afternoon sunlight, Minglan studied Mei’er carefully. Her hair was disheveled; one side of her face carried a bluish tint, the other still swollen red. Her lips were bitten raw, with dried blood. Her expression held an unsettled wariness, and she did not dare to meet Minglan’s gaze. Minglan looked at her for a moment, then said quietly: “…Ke’er has gone back. If you wish to return to our brother’s side, I can speak on your behalf…”

“No!” Mei’er suddenly cried out sharply, and twisted onto her side, clutching Minglan’s sleeve in supplication. “Young miss, please take pity — don’t send me back. I won’t go back. My needlework is good. I’ll serve the young miss well from now on, I’ll never cause trouble again!”

Minglan said in surprise: “But why?”

Mei’er bit at her already-broken lip, and her color went even paler. Minglan waited patiently. At last Mei’er lowered her voice: “Former sisters came to see me, and said… Ke’er went back and was beaten badly by Lin Yiniang right away, and driven to sleep in the coarse-labor matrons’ quarters. The young master — the young master is a person without backbone. He said any number of deeply devoted things to Ke’er in the past — but today, when Lin Yiniang erupted in fury, he didn’t dare protect her at all. Ke’er was mostly pretending with her illness — but there was a small part that was real — and now she might — she might…”

Tears fell as she spoke. Mei’er drew a sharp breath, tilted up her face, and wiped the tears away with one hand, then said in a clear, firm voice: “Ke’er is a foolish girl. She set her whole heart on the young master. But I’m not foolish. My mother was a concubine. The moment my father died, that wolf of a legal wife sold both my mother and me away — and I don’t know if I’ll ever see my mother again in this lifetime.”

Minglan knew her father had been a failed licentiate — a man of fallen circumstances who had still not forgotten to take a concubine. Mei’er’s voice was choked: “I will never become a concubine myself. Even if I have to eat chaff and drink gruel, I’d accept it. They all say the little maids who serve the young masters are destined to become secondary chamber-maids. That’s why I put on that disagreeable face — it was deliberate, to be pushed out. Young miss, it was pig-headed greed that made me act up. After spending a couple of days being flattered in the young master’s quarters, I forgot what I was. I took advantage of the young miss’s patience and got above myself. The young miss can punish me or hit me — just please don’t send me away.”

Minglan listened in silence, then said slowly: “I once heard it said that a person may rightly have pride in their bones, but should not have arrogance in their manner. Since you’ve thought it through — stay. And one more thing: what was your original name? Don’t use the name Mei’er anymore — it sounds undignified.”

Minglan found it very strange that she could use such a natural, casual tone to rename someone else.

Mei’er fell silent for a moment, then said quietly: “…Rumei. My father named me Rumei. It was changed because it clashed with the fifth young miss’s name.”

Minglan lifted her gaze to the window, and said softly: “From now on you’ll be called ‘Ruomei.’ Consider it a remembrance.”

Ruomei said in a quiet voice: “Thank you, young miss, for the name.”

Minglan rose, and turned at the doorway before leaving: “You can read, can’t you? I’ve drawn up a set of rules and regulations — recover quickly, and help teach the younger maids the proper conduct.”

Ruomei’s expression first showed surprise, then lit with a quiet pleasure. She bowed in thanks.

Minglan stepped out of the ear room, and a warm breeze brushed her face all at once. She looked down — from the cracks in the earth, tender tips of green grass had just begun to push through. Minglan stood looking at the distant view for a long moment, then turned to Danju with a bright, warm smile: “The wind is warm now. Go tell Xiaotao to check whether the ice on the lake has thawed. Let’s go fishing. We’ve been cooped up all winter — those fish must be wonderfully fat by now.”

Danju had been following Minglan in and out all day, knowing her mood was low, and had been too worried to say much. Seeing her smile again, she knew she was all right, and answered cheerfully: “Right away! I’ll find the young miss a great big fish creel!”

Sheng Minglan, born Yao Yiyi — not a native of this era, a time-crossing transmigrant, nominal age eleven, unmarried, no longer in school, neither exceptionally well-off nor badly off, diligently learning the ancient arts of survival.

(Volume One: Complete.)

Volume Two: From faded plum-blossom makeup, fresh red-flower rouge now blooms upon the hawthorn.