The days drifted deeper into summer, and Molan’s wedding date was only a few days away. Minglan pondered — they were sisters, after all — should she send a wedding gift and perhaps take the opportunity to give Molan a gentle warning about the kind of adversary she would be facing?

As she turned this over in her mind, she told Danju to bring out the coffer box the old lady had given her and set it at the bedside. Since the afternoon was free, Minglan had the windows and doors closed, took out the double-fish key she kept close to her body, and opened the box compartment by compartment, tallying up her assets on her own.

As her everyday jewelry and accessories were kept separately in a rosewood mother-of-pearl inlaid vanity jewel case, this imposing ebony crabapple-pattern coffer chest was more than half empty. Starting from the very bottom drawer, Minglan pulled out one compartment to find it all gleaming gold — her accumulation of gold ingots and old gold ornaments she had not worn in years.

As an ancient idle parasite who did no labor, Minglan’s income came mainly from several sources: one was gifts from elders at the new year and major festivals; one was the old lady’s constant supplements; and the third was her monthly allowance.

Of these, the most generous were Sheng Wei and his wife — every year they gave a small pouch of gold ingots, and especially on the two occasions Minglan had gone back to the old home in Youyang, she had scooped up a great deal. The jade and porcelain jewelry was harder to pawn, though — it was still Sheng Yun, her aunt, who was the most straightforward, presenting her at once with nine pairs of small gold pigs, each one weighing a full two taels.

The monthly allowance was essentially all spent before it could be saved, and not much of the old lady’s supplements had been set aside either — it had all gone in tips to the matrons and stewards, or in improving the everyday lives of the junior maids. Living in this kind of ancient noble household, it was very hard to be frugal as the one in charge — it was easy to be called stingy and miserly. Minglan was pained, but had no choice but to follow local custom.

After counting gold for a long while, Minglan finally chose from her own jewel case a pair of mandarin duck gold bracelets she had never once worn, and had Danju weigh them on the small scale — roughly seven or eight taels in total. She thought that was generous enough. She also picked out a pair of plump little gold pigs and a handful of small fish-shaped gold ingots, thinking that once Rulan had also married out, she would have all these little pigs and little fish melted down and sent to Cuibao Jeweler to be recast into fashionable, delicate ornaments — that would about do it.

She really was part of the ruling class after all. Back in Yao Yiyi’s days, when her closest cousin got married, she had gritted her teeth and spent an entire month’s salary on a bottle of Chanel perfume as a gift. Now here she was sending gold! How times had changed.

Truth be told, being a younger sister was a truly bad deal! Minglan flopped onto the bed and “wuu-wuu’d” in distress for half an eternity.

The next day, Minglan had Danju place the gleaming bracelets in a brocade embroidered pouch, then picked up two lengths of new fabric, and set out from Mucang Studio straight for Shanyue Pavilion. The seventh month blazed with heat; Xiaotao stood alongside holding up a sun umbrella and was sweating freely — Minglan quickened her pace.

Shanyue Pavilion was quite different now from before. Both the front and rear courtyard gates were kept shut by strict and stern matrons, and one could not easily come and go. Every day Hai Shi would come to see Molan once and speak a few words about etiquette and wifely conduct — how much Molan actually absorbed was another matter.

Entering the inner chamber, Minglan saw that Molan’s cheeks had grown thin and she lacked her former dewy glow, but in its place was a different kind of fragile, poignant charm. She was reclining in a wicker chair in a pale blue gauze jacket, looking rather listless. Lu Zhong immediately came over to take the things and spread them out for Molan to see. Molan only rolled her eyes slightly and showed no particular reaction. Minglan felt a pang of sorrow for her all over again.

Lu Zhong, afraid that Minglan’s feelings might be hurt by Molan’s silence, quickly said: “This servant thanks Sixth Miss on behalf of our miss. Please sit, Sixth Miss — I’ll go and brew tea at once!”

Minglan had not actually planned to stay long — leaving the gifts would have been enough to fulfill the bond of sisterhood — and she waved her hand to tell Lu Zhong not to bother. She was just about to take her leave when the lazily reclining Molan suddenly sat upright and said: “Since you’ve come, stay and talk for a while.”

Minglan turned back, looked at Molan’s lonely, desolate face, and went to sit down on a round stool to one side.

Molan turned to Lu Zhong and said: “There should still be some fruit that Elder Sister-in-law sent over — take these two with you and go eat some. I want to have a chat with Sixth Sister.” Lu Zhong, knowing her mistress wanted a private word with Minglan, turned to usher Xiaotao and Luzhi toward the door. But the two girls stood still, looking at Minglan and waiting for her instructions. Only when Minglan gave a slight nod of her head did the three young women go out together.

Molan’s gaze followed them out the door before she turned back, the corner of her mouth showing a trace of sarcasm: “Sixth Sister has a fine way with people — you’ve got everyone in the courtyard trained to heel. No matter how long you’ve been out, the courtyard gate is kept tight.” Minglan lowered her long lashes and said softly: “We share a bond of mistress and servants. They are loyal to me, and I keep them safe and comfortable — it is simply that.”

Molan thought of Yun Zai, who had been beaten half to death and then sold away, and a wave of discomfort passed through her. After a long silence, she suddenly gave a light laugh and said: “Do you still remember what it was like when Elder Sister got married? The whole household was decorated with festive lights and colors; Elder Sister’s room was piled with all manner of celebratory things. I was still young then, and seeing it all made me envious — I kept imagining what it would be like when I got married someday. But now… ha — look at this place. Even the room of a widow could not be bleaker.”

Minglan looked around — the room was utterly cold and bare, with no sisters or brothers-in-law or sisters-in-law coming to offer good wishes, no birth mother murmuring quiet advice in the evenings about what to be mindful of after marriage. Minglan was silent for a while, then said only: “Fourth Elder Sister’s position is not that of a principal wife’s daughter.” After a pause, she added in a low voice: “Where there is gain, there is loss.”

Molan’s expression darkened, and that fierce look crept back into her eyes: “You think that now I’ve broken with Father, you dare to speak so boldly! I know — it was you the Yongchang Marchioness had her eye on for a daughter-in-law, and I’ve gotten ahead of you. Your heart can’t be pleased! And now you dare come here to mock me?!”

Minglan shook her head and said: “Great households are not easy to enter. Fourth Elder Sister has the courage and the ability — she need not fear. But your younger sister is timid — not having the fine vessel, I dare not take on the fine job.”

Molan was startled, then covered her mouth and fell back laughing on the couch. When she finally stopped, she raised her chin with a proud air and said: “You might as well say it plainly — the Yongchang Marquis’s household has a formidable cousin living there! Rulan, that girl, already came over and mocked me about it! Ha! Women are born into this world, and where is there not the word ‘contend’? Do you think a humble match guarantees peaceful ease?!”

Without knowing why, Minglan’s mind suddenly drifted to a gaunt, frail silhouette, and for a moment her eyes clouded over. She thought it through, and her heart cleared again. She shook her head once more: “It is different. No matter how much Father loved Lin Yiniang, Wang Lao’s household could send over attendants from the Wang family as support; Wang’s maternal uncle could write a letter and speak directly. Nobody could override that. It was the same as with the Sun scholar — as vile as he was, Shulan’s capable natal family could help her escape that misery and find a better match. But with a high-status marriage… that becomes truly difficult.”

Molan was left flustered and red-faced. She knew that by propriety, a principal wife’s daughter ought to marry better than a concubine’s daughter — yet she simply could not swallow that resentment. Minglan watched Molan’s shifting expressions, and said gently: “For everything that has happened before and after because of Fourth Elder Sister’s affairs — so many people have suffered. I hope Fourth Elder Sister feels it was worth it.”

Molan thought of Lin Yiniang and felt increasingly distressed. She went through several changes of expression before managing to take a breath. With a tilt of her chin, she said defiantly: “Of course it was worth it!” Minglan knew Molan’s character clearly — she could already tell Molan was busy plotting how to reverse her fortunes in the future.

Watching Molan’s proud expression, Minglan thought again of Cao Jinxiu.

Molan might appear delicate and fragile, but she had ultimately grown up wrapped in a thousand affections, and the arrogant sense of her own nobility ingrained in her very bones could never be erased. But someone like Cao Jinxiu — exiled with her whole family at the age of ten, with the most beautiful years of a young girl’s life buried in the wind and sand of the western wastelands, her complexion dark and coarse, her hands and feet roughened, her frame skeletal — that kind of degradation carved into the very marrow was a truly pitiful thing.

For no particular reason, Minglan’s heart grew vaguely troubled. Lately she did not know what had come over her — she kept thinking about such wretched affairs. Her mind was usually clear and decisive, never tangled in complications. Problems that couldn’t be solved now were simply not to be thought about!

Minglan raised her head and smiled, looking toward Molan who was still chattering on about her “grand ambitions.” She little knew that this was the last time Minglan would see Molan speaking so freely and unguardedly.

…

On the eighth day of the seventh month, the Liang and Sheng families were joined in marriage. The old lady, as was her custom, showed her face briefly, then returned to her room to rest. Only Wang Shi stood stiffly managing the proceedings. At any rate they had assembled some twenty-eight trays of dowry, though if Lin Yiniang had been present and examined it carefully, she would have known at once that two-thirds of it was nothing but empty show.

The Yongchang Marquis’s household appeared to have no great interest in putting on a display either, though Madam Liang’s ability to spin a plausible tale was clearly well above Wang Shi’s. She opened her mouth with a sweeping declaration: “The national mourning has only just ended, and His Majesty has not yet held the selection of imperial consorts — how could those of us who serve the throne possibly hold lavish wedding celebrations?”

Not only did no one say a word of reproach, but she earned no small amount of praise. The old lady could not resist using this admirable example to give Wang Shi yet another lecture.

After learning of Madam Liang’s attitude, Wang Shi was secretly pleased for quite some time. But on the day of the wedding, when she saw Liang Han in white horse and red garments, dashingly handsome and heroic-looking with a smile playing at the corners of his lips, she was immediately overcome with a fresh surge of anger. The wife of Liu Kun had to tug at her sleeve repeatedly from below before Wang Shi’s twitching mouth could manage to relax.

Following custom, the groom was to be stopped at the gate and made to produce several lucky red packets before he could enter. Elder Sister-in-law’s husband Yuan Shao demanded that Liang Han perform a sword dance to the “Bring In the Wine.” Changfeng demanded he compose a poem on the spot with a summer peach as the subject. Changbai was the most accommodating — for he said nothing at all.

By the time Molan came back for the customary return visit after the wedding, Wang Shi saw her sitting there in a scarlet satin jacket scattered all over with pomegranate flowers, her face a picture of demure bliss, with Liang Han at her side wearing a manner that was at least warm and pleasant. The rage Wang Shi had barely managed to suppress came surging back up, and she could not help putting on a stern face and lecturing Molan: “…The Yongchang Marquis’s household is not like the Sheng family — you must not behave willfully or cause scenes! Now that you are married, you must be respectful and obedient to your parents-in-law, kind and harmonious with your brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, and fellow wives — you must not speak or act rashly and bring shame upon the Sheng family!” Then followed a long litany of reproaches.

The wife of Liu Kun was speechless. Lin Yiniang and her daughter’s greatest skill was exactly handling this sort of frontal assault — and sure enough, faced with Wang Shi’s relentless severity, Molan lowered her head and received every word, while a faint sheen of moisture rose in her eyes, and when she glanced sideways at Liang Han, she appeared frail enough to collapse at any moment. Liang Han, full of sympathy, grew all the more protective of Molan in his words and manner.

Wang Shi was doubly furious! After a moment’s thought, she turned and gave Cai Pei a few quiet instructions, and a few wisps of a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth.

Sheng Hong, observing Liang Han, noted that he had rather the air of a spoiled young noble otherwise, but the rest seemed tolerably acceptable. Changfeng was delighted — Liang Han was his proper brother-in-law by marriage — and he latched onto him for an endless stream of talk, long and short. Unfortunately one thought Wang Xizhi and Wang Xianzhi were brothers, while the other had no idea of the eleven uses of the battle-axe, and they simply could not find a common thread.

Changbai still said very little. “Rather than hastily passing judgment on a person, it is better simply not to form a judgment at all.” This was a phrase Changbai often said, and Minglan agreed with it wholeheartedly.

Liang Han accompanied Molan as she bowed before the old lady. When he stood up and lifted his head, he saw two elegantly dressed young women standing at the old lady’s side. The one on the left he overlooked, but the one on the right — a girl wearing a pale rose-pink feathered gauze cross-collar vest, a snow-lotus colored satin long jacket beneath, and a matching embroidered pleated skirt — had her hair simply swept to the side in a low drooping-horse bun, secured with a red agate hairpin topped with a lotus flower, with a small ebony flower stand beside her holding a water-jade white porcelain flower vase from which a few sprigs of fresh fragrant summer lotus bloomed.

As Liang Han’s gaze fell upon her, he felt only that this girl’s brows and eyes were like a painting — an indescribable clear, vivid beauty. Though she stood with her head bowed, composed and still, her merely standing there so lightly seemed to dim all the fine clothes and beautiful hair in the room around her.

In a daze, he heard Wang Shi identify them one by one: “…This is your Sixth Younger Sister — from now on you are all one family…”

Liang Han’s heart sank. When the Sheng household had first come to propose this marriage, he had agreed at once — partly because the spring maiden’s belly could wait no longer, and partly because he had thought the Sheng household’s Fourth Miss was a rare and lovely beauty. Only now did he finally understand the deep meaning in his mother’s eyes at the time — “You had best not come to regret this,” Madam Liang had said.

Molan, for her part, was greatly displeased. At a customary return visit, one bowed to elders and was introduced to brothers and brothers-in-law — with the exception of Hualan, whose mother-in-law had “taken ill” again and not come, an unmarried younger sister did not necessarily have to come out to meet a brother-in-law. And yet Wang Shi had made such an arrangement — it was obviously meant to…

Molan ground her teeth, then turned her head sideways and gave Liang Han a sweet, flowing smile, her eyes brimming with allure and charm, her lips pretty and beguiling. Liang Han was startled, and his heart felt a degree more at ease — though the looks were not a match, this kind of charm made up for it well enough. Rulan, watching, curled her lip in contempt. Minglan desperately kept her head down — she knew what Wang Shi meant, but she could not very well refuse to give Wang Shi face, so she had no choice but to play dead.

After the formal greetings, the men and women split off and dined separately. After the meal came tea and pastries. Molan had been wanting to boast a little about the wealth and grandeur of the Yongchang Marquis’s household, but both Wang Shi and the two “Lans” showed not the slightest interest in asking her about it. Even when Molan herself steered the conversation in that direction, she had barely gotten started before Rulan sidetracked her. A specific example:

Molan patted at her flushed face with her handkerchief, as if very warm: “…The weather is truly scorching — good thing the Marquis’s household ice cellar is large enough, so that even using ice every day…”

“The rice cakes Cousin Jie’er sent over last time were so delicious — I thought they were made with goat’s milk. Sixth Sister, what do you think?” Rulan looked at Minglan with an expression of great interest.

“I… couldn’t really tell.” This was the honest truth.

In the end Rulan took over the whole performance, chatting and laughing nonstop with Wang Shi and Minglan, while the bride who was meant to be the center of attention could not get a word in edgewise. Molan’s face went pale with fury — it was Hai Shi who finally couldn’t bear it, smiled, and asked Molan a couple of kind questions about how she was getting on, managing to smooth the atmosphere over.

This behavior was improper. That evening, Hai Shi went to Taoran Hall to have a word with Rulan, and found Minglan there as well.

“Fifth Elder Sister wanted to practice needlework and called me over to watch.” Minglan was genuinely exhausted. Now that Rulan had grown older, she had taken an interest in needlework and often called Minglan over for guidance. “Teaching someone to do embroidery is far more tiring than doing it yourself.” Minglan rubbed her eyes, inwardly adding an unspoken remark — especially when the student was not particularly gifted.

Hai Shi, seeing that Minglan looked a little listless and knowing Rulan’s impatient nature, felt somewhat sorry for her, and told the two of them to rest first. Then she turned and spoke with Rulan.

“Fifth Younger Sister, do listen to what your sister-in-law says — she is your own sister, after all. Now that she has married out, you and she will rarely meet under ordinary circumstances, so why not treat each other well? If word gets out, won’t people laugh at our family? Besides — Molan has married into a marquis’s household. Between sisters, there may yet come a day when you lean on and rely on each other. Think about it.” Hai Shi was indeed a fine eldest sister-in-law, and her persuasion was heartfelt and earnest.

But Rulan showed no appreciation whatsoever, and had her own reasoning: “How would anyone outside know what goes on between our family’s sisters? Only if Molan herself went and told people. Sister-in-law, the grudge between me and Fourth Elder Sister is not something that began yesterday or today. She despises me, and I find her loathsome too. Sister-in-law, think carefully as well — even if I were to make a real effort to get along with her from this moment forward, would she refrain from speaking ill of me to outsiders? Would she stand firmly and helpfully by me if I were in trouble? If she simply doesn’t trip me up, that would already be a fine thing! Very well, I’ll rely on Father, Mother, Elder Brother, and Sister-in-law.”

Hai Shi was completely stopped in her tracks. Thinking it over, she could not find a particular flaw in the reasoning. Minglan, sitting to one side holding her embroidery hoop, felt deeply in agreement — and rather relieved. If she herself had been born a principal wife’s daughter, with a capable mother and an influential elder brother, she might have said something very similar.

Hai Shi was speechless for a moment, then smiled wryly: “As for anything else, sister-in-law won’t meddle further. But in future, when you are outside in public, in front of others, you should still observe the proper appearances — you don’t want to give people something to gossip about.”

Rulan stuck out her lower lip, gave a reluctant nod. Hai Shi continued to talk at length, until Rulan grew weary and in a fit of stubbornness said she wanted to sleep. Only then did Minglan find the chance to slip away.

Halfway out, Luzhi couldn’t help fuming under her breath: “Fifth Miss is really something — if she wants to practice needlework, why not have the needlework maids come and teach her? She’s a proper young miss who will fly into a mood whenever it takes her, day or night, calling our Miss over regardless of whether she might have already gone to sleep — what does she take our Miss for?!”

Even Danju was a little put out: “The worst thing for needlework is straining the eyes. If you really must practice, at least pick a sensible hour.”

Minglan was quiet for a moment, then said lightly: “Enough of that.”

Walking in the courtyard, the summer night sky was dotted with stars and the surroundings were extraordinarily quiet. Minglan breathed in a deep lungful of air and felt much more at ease within. Human beings are creatures of comparison — if she went about measuring herself against Hualan and Rulan, she would certainly have brought on a premature decline long ago. Just think of that destitute Cao Jinxiu — was Minglan’s own situation not vastly better? In an era without psychologists, a transmigrated woman had to be her own counselor.

After a while, Danju said softly again: “Seeing how Fourth Young Mistress carried herself today, it seemed things in the Marquis’s household are going rather well for her?” Danju was thinking: if it truly were a fine and happy match, then it had originally been meant to be her own miss’s.

Luzhi gave a dismissive snort and muttered under her breath with biting wit: “Today means nothing — you have to watch how things develop over a long time. A freshly dug latrine still has its days of excitement!”

Minglan was mortified.