With Sheng Lao’s return to the mansion, the Sheng and Hai families began the Six Rites of betrothal. The Hai Family were a distinguished clan of Dongyang, and Sheng Hong resolved to observe the full ancient ceremony. When Minglan came to pay her respects, she saw a large fat goose trussed up tightly on the ceremonial table in Wang Shi’s main hall. She poked it curiously with a finger — the poor creature had its beak bound shut, and could only roll its eyes at Minglan with great personality.
“It is alive?” Minglan exclaimed softly. “These days, don’t people usually use lacquered carved ones?”
Rulan also pouted. “They come from a lineage of literary scholars, so they insist on propriety. It was caught several days ago and has been tended to like an honored ancestor ever since.”
Sheng Hong specially asked his close friend, Magistrate Liu of the Court of Judicial Review, to go to the Hai Family to perform the formal betrothal ritual. Since Hai Senior Official was soon to depart the capital for his new post, time was limited. The young lady’s Eight Characters birth record was brought back that same day. Sheng Hong then made a show of asking the official matchmaker to cross-reference the birth records with an oracle reading — a reading that had of course been known in advance — and then placed them before the ancestral tablets for two days. The result, naturally, was declared auspicious.
Through all these formalities, the wedding date was set: the eighteenth day of the twelfth month, the following month — a most propitious and fortunate day.
The year’s end brought many celebrations. This year, the father of Princess Pingning, the Marquis of Xiangyang, was celebrating his seventieth birthday with a grand banquet. As the Sheng Family was distantly related to the Qi Family, and Changbai had been Qi Heng’s schoolmate for many years, they were among those invited.
Early that morning, Cuiwei pulled Minglan up and dressed her carefully: an upper garment of pale silver-red all-over scattered-gold brocade with a front-opening long silk jacket, paired below with a cinnamon-pink pleated embroidered skirt. Her thick hair was coiled into a gentle crescent-moon bun, pinned with a large hair pin of dotted-blue-featherwork set with gems and red gold, and at her temple she wore a small delicate gilded finch hairpin of layered filigree cradling a pearl — its twin wings spread flat and trembling faintly as she moved, wonderfully lively.
The entire outfit had been newly made during their stay in Youyang. When Minglan went to the others’ room, she saw that the two other young ladies were also in new dress. Molan wore a pale blue all-over twining jade magnolia blossom lined silk long jacket and a lotus-green Moon-Splendor skirt with darkened silver embroidery — her slender waist graceful, her appearance refined and elegant. Rulan was in a great red butterfly-and-flower front-opening jacket, which had a richly festive air.
Wang Shi sat in the hall and gave the three girls a few instructions in the vein of ‘observe the rules, listen more and speak less.’ Minglan understood this was directed at Molan, and she stole a glance over — but to her surprise, Molan showed not a flicker of reaction.
After about an hour and more of swaying in the well-padded curtained carriage, they arrived at the Marquis of Xiangyang’s Mansion. The great gates stood wide open, a pair of gold-flecked red banners hung on either side, and dense strings of large red firecrackers were suspended up high. As Wang Shi’s party were women guests, they entered through the side gate, transferred from their own carriage to the soft-canopied litters of the mansion’s inner lane, and traveled a little further before alighting at the inner gate.
Maids and matrons had long been posted at the entrance to receive guests. Only now did Wang Shi’s party have the chance to look about properly, and they felt a sudden opening of the eyes before them — the mansion grounds were lofty, spacious, and harmonious, and at a distance one could make out a small bridge over a stream and a wooded hillside. A middle-aged matron led Wang Shi and the others inside. They passed through a screen gate and walked along a covered gallery corridor, all the while discreetly taking in their surroundings — everywhere were carved and gilded rafters, the whole place was lavishly grand and wealthy, even the door frames and pillars were painted and gilded.
Wang Shi was inwardly astonished — no wonder Princess Pingning carried her eyes in the top of her head. She glanced at the three girls: Molan’s heart was burning with envy, though she kept her expression reasonably composed — only her smile was a little stiff. Rulan was more transparent, her eyes undisguised in their admiring and covetous gaze. Wang Shi then looked at Minglan — and stopped short.
Minglan walked with complete unconcern, her manner natural and easy, not in the least appearing to be performing — she genuinely seemed unbothered by all the splendor before her. Wang Shi could not help but look at her with new eyes.
It was not that Minglan had such elevated tastes. In her former life as a court official, her days had been filled with either criminal cases or bitter family disputes. The staff were perpetually gloomy, the workload crushing — yet Minglan had never missed any of the unit’s annual group tours.
She had visited the Forbidden City, walked through royal palaces, wandered Shen Garden, climbed the Temple of Heaven — she had seen plenty of the world. The only time she had actually gone “wow” was watching the underground dwarven kingdom in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring on a three-dimensional screen. What could she say — Western influence had swept the globe, and modern people’s architectural tastes had long drifted toward the Western.
The steward matron assigned to lead them was quite articulate, pointing out various scenic features as they walked. Wang Shi smiled pleasantly. “There are many grand and wealthy mansions in the world, but what is rare is how this one achieves both grandeur and elegance — truly fine hills and fine waters, a most auspicious setting.”
Rulan leaned close to Minglan’s ear and whispered, “Sixth Sister, this is so much grander than Elder Brother-in-law’s house.” Minglan nodded — she had never been to the Zhongqin Earl’s Mansion, so she had nothing to compare, and simply walked along with decorum.
In ancient high society, the literary officials and the titled nobility — though intermarried — maintained clear distinctions between their worlds. The sons of the nobility mostly relied on hereditary privileges or imperial favor, seeking posts in the military or the imperial guard, or simply holding honorary sinecures in some ministry. Scholars, on the other hand, followed the civil examination path: candidate, licentiates, graduates, and if their scores were exceptional, entry into the Hanlin Academy; if merely decent, they ground through the six ministries building seniority, or were sent out to the provinces — gradually accumulating rank until they became high officials or retired home as local gentry.
Of course, many sons of gentry families were not particularly eager for office — passing the examinations was simply a way to reduce their family’s tax burden or add a layer of protection. The truly pivotal figures were those seemingly low-ranking Hanlin scholars, especially the probationary Hanlin academicians.
Since the previous dynasty, a tradition had taken hold: only those who had passed the imperial examinations could enter the Hanlin Academy, and only those from the Hanlin could enter the Grand Secretariat. Accordingly, the probationary academicians were called ‘the reserve chancellors’ — in other words, Changbai had the potential to rise to power directly into the Grand Secretariat.
The night before, lying in bed, Minglan had wondered why the Marquis of Xiangyang — a prominent figure of military-noble society — would have any particular reason to invite their family. After thinking it through carefully, she understood: it was simply on account of Changbai and the Hai Family. If Changbai truly rose to prominence someday, early investment in the relationship was always prudent — and the investment here was not a large one.
Just as she was musing on this, they arrived at the main hall. As Wang Shi’s party had come early, not many guests had yet arrived. Princess Pingning graciously invited Wang Shi and the girls to come pay their respects to the honoree. Just at the doorway, they heard animated voices and great laughter from within.
Minglan lowered her head as she entered and felt the floor give softly underfoot — the room was covered in thick crimson camel-wool carpet patterned with auspicious longevity designs. The room was vast, several rooms apparently opened into one, with only a few multi-shelf display cabinets standing here and there, their shelves gleaming with a wealth of exquisite porcelain and antiques.
The room was full of noise — men and women standing and seated, all talking merrily — but Princess Pingning’s bright laughter still carried above it all, clear as a bell into Minglan’s ears.
“Wang Family Elder Sister, you have come.” Princess Pingning walked forward with graceful steps and smiled warmly at Wang Shi.
Wang Shi, if one were being kind, was solidly practical; if one were being blunt, she was short-sighted. Since she had given up any idea of a match with Qi Heng, she no longer had anything to seek from the Princess, and so their dealings were entirely natural — little fawning or flattery — which, paradoxically, meant they got along genuinely well.
After exchanging pleasantries with Princess Pingning, Wang Shi immediately turned with great respect to bow to an elderly man seated at the place of honor, filling her face with smiles and offering birthday felicitations: “Congratulations to the Old Marquis! May the Old Marquis enjoy fortune as vast as the Eastern Sea and longevity as enduring as the Southern Mountains!”
“Good, good, good — rise, rise.” Old Marquis Gu was white-haired and spare in build, wearing a rust-red longevity-patterned brocade gown, tall and upright, looking full of vigor — no more than sixty years of age in appearance.
He smiled at Wang Shi. “In the late Emperor’s time, your father and I both served under the Shaanxi-Gansu General Governor. He’d carry his ledgers around all day accounting for grain and provisions, and I’d lead my soldiers to his door daily to make demands — we’d argue back and forth without fail. A few days ago I saw your elder brother, the very image of your father’s ways. Alas… time is a relentless thing. In the blink of an eye, only this old man is left.”
The mention of her late father brought a shimmer of moisture to Wang Shi’s eyes. Princess Pingning shook her father’s arm and laughed. “Goodness, Wang Family Elder Sister has come to offer birthday wishes — why bring that up now?” The Old Marquis seemed to dote on this daughter of his greatly, and immediately relented. “All right, all right, I shall say no more. Have seats brought! And those young ladies behind — are they your daughters?”
Wang Shi promptly had the girls step forward to kowtow, and the three of them knelt respectfully and performed their bow, then spoke in unison as they had rehearsed: “We wish the Old Marquis the enduring green of pine and cypress, long life and abundant happiness!”
Old Marquis Gu accepted their greetings. Princess Pingning had maids bring forward a tray bearing an embroidered pouch for each girl as the Old Marquis’s gift. As Minglan took her pouch, she lifted her eyes for a brief look — and finally had the chance to see the room properly. Behind the Old Marquis stood quite a crowd of young men, ranging from boys of seven or eight to young men of just past twenty, all bearing a family resemblance. They were presumably all members of the Gu clan.
Princess Pingning gestured toward them with a smile. “These are all my brothers and nephews from my family. Since the guests of honor have not yet arrived, they came first to kowtow and offer birthday wishes to Father. We are all family here, so there is no need for the formal rule of gentleman and lady keeping apart.” In large ancient noble families, those not yet wed were still counted as minors — the female members of the clan did not need to observe strict avoidance with them.
To the Old Marquis’s other side stood a row of daughters-in-law and young ladies, each surrounded by pearls and jade, impeccably dressed. Princess Pingning then introduced them. “These are all the elder and younger sisters-in-law of the household, and these are my nieces — come, let everyone get acquainted.”
The women came forward, and another round of pleasantries and laughter ensued. The poor sisters had to bow to what felt like dozens of people and then call out uncle, elder brother, and younger brother to an entire room’s worth of people. Minglan’s head was reeling from all the kowtowing; when she stood up, the room spun around her. The usually sturdy Rulan’s steps also faltered, and she pressed her full weight onto Minglan, nearly sending Minglan face-first into the floor. Luckily, Minglan somehow, through sheer force of goodwill, held on with a strained smile.
Minglan’s hands were pressed with many more silk pouches. She automatically weighed them — they varied considerably in heft. Then she snuck a look at her two sisters: Rulan had evidently not yet recovered from her dizzy spell, while Molan stood with her head slightly bowed, her lips moving in silent murmur. Minglan leaned over quietly to listen, and the corner of her mouth curved up — ah, Molan was memorizing the backgrounds and names of the various Madams. But the one to be most pitied was Wang Shi: she had lost a good deal of money today.
As it was not quite proper for men and women to linger together, after a few exchanges Princess Pingning led all the female guests to a separate courtyard. In a spacious main hall, many silk-cushioned stools and high-backed chairs had been arranged; the women’s guests took their seats. Maids in waiting then presented tea and refreshments, and at last everyone could relax and chat — chatting as they waited for more guests to arrive.
Minglan sat quietly in a corner, holding her teacup and admiring the overglaze enameling on it, privately marveling at how exquisite it was. Beside her, Molan was talking with one of the Gu family’s girls — apparently they were already acquainted.
“How is it that no one from the Duke of Qi’s estate has come? Oh — or at least not yet?” Rulan’s face was turned toward Minglan, but her eyes kept drifting toward the Gu family girl.
Minglan was not sure who was being asked, and the Gu family girl obviously had not caught the question. Minglan sighed and said casually, “Probably the same as us — on a winter morning like this, they wanted to sleep in a little longer.”
The Gu family girl overheard and burst out laughing. She was pretty and dimpled, with a naturally bright and open air. Still laughing, she said to Molan, “Your little sister is so amusing.” Molan curved her lips in a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, and then affected a casual tone. “Come to think of it — Lian Jie’er, just now, why didn’t I see the Old Marquis’s grandson either?”
Lian Jie’er was Princess Pingning’s niece. Most of the Gu family girls in the room were under ten, and only a handful were close in age to the Sheng sisters — so she had come over to talk.
“My elder cousin came last night and paid his respects to Grandfather first thing this morning. He is off somewhere helping with the arrangements by now, I should think.” Lian Jie’er deliberately affected a world-weary, old-fashioned air, and the girls all laughed at that.
With this shared laughter, the four of them drew together and began to chat. Lian Jie’er was very talkative — she chattered away at length about the most fashionable theatrical troupes in the capital, the latest styles in hairpins and ornaments, the poetry gatherings among the capital’s young ladies… Molan engaged with her pleasantly, the two of them weaving an easy conversation together. Though Rulan and Molan had come to know Lian Jie’er at the same time, Molan was clearly the more socially adept. Minglan did not interject much — she simply sat to one side, listening with a quiet smile.
As they talked, Lian Jie’er began to glance at Minglan once, then again, as though she had something to ask but was hesitating. At last she could hold it in no longer and spoke up. “I heard your sister say that when you were in Dengzhou, you were on the closest terms with Elder Academician Yu’s eldest granddaughter?”
Minglan cast a brief glance at Molan. Molan shifted in her seat, looking slightly uneasy at Minglan’s gaze. Minglan turned back and chose her words carefully. “We were not especially close — we simply got on well and spoke more often than with others.”
Lian Jie’er was the sort of person who could not conceal her feelings; she said at once, “Then why did she refuse to marry my Second Uncle-in-Waiting?”
Minglan was completely at a loss. “Who is your Second Uncle-in-Waiting?” she asked in bewilderment. Lian Jie’er saw Minglan’s look of genuine puzzlement and grew urgent; she hissed in a low voice, “The Second Young Master of the Ningbo Marquis’s mansion! He was standing right next to the Old Marquis just now!”
It struck Minglan like a sudden blow to the head and she swayed slightly — she cursed herself inwardly for being such an idiot. All that kowtowing had left her completely dazed; she had entirely forgotten this connection.
The founding Marquis of Xiangyang and the founding Marquis of Ningbo had been brothers. But the second-generation Marquis of Xiangyang had had no sons, and somehow — no one quite understood why — instead of adopting an heir from his own brother’s line, he had brought in an heir from a barely-connected branch of the Gu clan back in the ancestral home. From that point on, the Xiangyang branch and the Ningbo branch had had no further dealings — even the names in the generational naming sequence for their descendants were different.
As for the current situation: the Old Marquis of Xiangyang had lost his only son in his son’s early years, leaving Princess Pingning as his only child. By the time the Old Marquis was in his fifties or sixties, having accepted that he would never produce a son of his own, he had adopted a nephew as his heir. That was why just now the Old Marquis had been surrounded by such a crowd of Gu clan young men — they were all likely jostling for the chance at that title. Lian Jie’er’s father was one of the Old Marquis’s nephews.
Yan Ran’s former betrothed was among that group just now? Damnation — and she had not even looked!
Minglan strained to recall the scene. It seemed — it might be — that among the group of uncles-in-waiting she had bowed to, there were indeed two with rather weaselly faces. But which one had the weasel’s head and which one had the rat’s eyes? Minglan could have torn out her own hair in frustration; she simply could not remember.
“Our two families have never had dealings. This time it was my Great-Uncle-by-adoption who specifically went to invite the Ningbo Marquis to help select an heir. It is actually my first time ever meeting anyone from that household. Their eldest young master has poor health and did not come. Only the Second Young Master and the Third Young Master came.”
Lian Jie’er tilted her head and pouted, then continued pressing Minglan. “Tell me — why did Elder Academician Yu’s eldest daughter refuse to go? Did she hear some unfavorable rumor?” Lian Jie’er’s words sounded as though she were worried for her family, but her expression betrayed her — she was clearly alight with excitement, simply eager for gossip.
Minglan had the ready-made cover story that the Yu family had prepared. She affected an unconcerned manner and said lightly, “Nothing of the sort. It was only that years ago, Elder Academician Yu had made a verbal betrothal promise to the Duan Family of Dali. After the two families were separated far apart, it had slipped from everyone’s memory. But then at the start of this year, a letter arrived from the Duan Family raising the matter. Elder Academician Yu is a man of his word, and so he agreed without a second thought.”
Lian Jie’er could not conceal her disappointment. “That is all there is to it?”
“Yes — what else could there be?” Minglan kept her voice as sincere as she could manage. “In truth, Elder Academician Yu had been quite favorably inclined toward the Ningbo Marquis’s match. So he went ahead and betrothed his second daughter to their family instead. Has the engagement been settled? When?”
Hearing there was no exciting revelation to be had, Lian Jie’er was crestfallen. She flicked her sleeve dismissively. “It is settled — just at the end of the first month.”
She then changed the subject and began chatting with Molan and Rulan again. Minglan finally let out a quiet breath of relief. Beneath her sleeve, she pressed her hands together in the manner Wang Shi had — mimicking her silent prayers to Amitabha and Taishang Laojun. Thank goodness the Yu Family had done their tidying up so thoroughly; not a breath of the real story had leaked. Otherwise she might well have been dragged into it. As Taishang Laojun was her witness — she swore she would never act on impulse again.