Chapter 3

The address “my lady” snapped Xu Yunqi out of her muddled thoughts.

Was he calling her?

The lamplight was hazy and warm. A breeze passed through, sending a shower of clear frost pattering down from between the roof tiles.

Recalling what she had just heard, Xu Yunqi met the man’s dark, calm gaze and asked composedly:

“Third Master just said to follow the usual practice. Might I ask what that usual practice entails?”

Xu Yunqi always wore a faint smile when dealing with others, and her voice was soft and unhurried. To those who heard her, it sounded like nothing but gentleness. Combined with her striking beauty, she was like the moon reflected in water or a flower in a mirror—one hardly dared speak loudly for fear of startling her.

Pei Muheng explained slowly.

After hearing him out, Xu Yunqi considered the matter. Since they were now sharing a household, Pei Muheng’s private property belonged to the third branch’s estate. It would hardly be appropriate to hand it over to the Princess Consort any longer. She said:

“Have it sent to the rear courtyard first. I will sort and catalogue it, then select some choice items to offer to Mother.”

That was well handled.

Pei Muheng instructed Steward Chen to follow Xu Yunqi’s arrangements, then returned to his study.

The moment he stepped over the threshold, he found one of his secret guards already waiting inside, presenting a document with both hands:

“Third Master, news has come on the Tongzhou case.”

Pei Muheng immediately took the letter and went behind his desk to open it. He scanned it swiftly, his brow darkening slightly as he leaned back into his armchair.

Not long ago, he had received an extremely peculiar letter pleading for help. It stated that the grain shipped to the Tongzhou granaries was being adulterated—high-quality grain replaced with inferior stock. The letter was stained with river mud, leading Pei Muheng to suspect it had been written by a river worker. He dispatched a trusted agent to Tongzhou that very night. But what happened next was even stranger: by the time his man arrived at the Tongzhou granaries, a great fire had already broken out, and the spoiled grain—the evidence of the substitution—had been burned clean.

Fires in granaries across the prefectures were not uncommon, yet Pei Muheng still sensed something amiss. Every winter, when the Great Wu faced grain shortages, they would raid southward. At such times, the court would advance grain supplies to the northern border in advance. Pei Muheng, serving at the Emperor’s side, had taken the opportunity to send the grain requisition documents to Tongzhou—only to hear that the great fire had consumed several hundred thousand bushels of grain. The Son of Heaven was enraged and ordered a full investigation.

The investigator sent was none other than Pei Muheng’s trusted man, the seventh-rank censor Liu Yue.

Liu Yue’s secret reply stated that the cause of the fire had been determined: the garrison soldiers guarding the granary had been carousing at night and accidentally knocked over an oil lamp. The grain had been piled high and fermenting, and the fire intensified and spread, eventually becoming uncontrollable.

Was that truly the reason?

The Tongzhou granary was the largest near the capital. Its grain served two purposes: first, as reserves for the central government offices and the imperial palace; second, as military provisions. Precisely because it was a reserve, the granaries were rarely opened in any given year—which made them a prime battleground for all manner of unscrupulous players to engage in their shady dealings.

If not for that plea letter, Pei Muheng would have accepted the official conclusion. But since the legitimate grain had indeed been swapped, there had to be more going on behind the scenes. Tongzhou lay right next to the capital. Who could possibly operate with such impunity in such a critical location? Their official rank must be considerable.

The young man held the letter and slowly brought it toward the silver lamp at the corner of his desk. The oil-yellow paper met the flame and soon began to crackle. The gleam in his eyes focused sharply.

“Have Liu Yue investigate Tongzhou Prefect Chen Mingshan in secret.”

The bait had been cast. Now he awaited a big catch—or perhaps two.

Pei Muheng slowly brushed the ashes from his palm, a cold, merciless smile flickering in his eyes.

—

Xu Yunqi hurried back to the rear courtyard of Qinghui Garden. Steward Chen had already sent over the gift inventory. Before long, over a dozen chests were carried in and set beneath the veranda. That evening, Xu Yunqi worked with Yinxing and two elderly matrons to sort through the annual tribute, checking it against the inventory to guard against any omissions or falsifications by the estate stewards.

News of the Tongzhou imperial estate’s tribute delivery naturally did not escape the Princess Consort.

In the past, every detail of Pei Muheng’s household affairs had been managed by her—his mother. And now, look: the new bride had been in the house for only a day and was already making decisions on her son’s behalf. The Princess Consort’s resentment churned in her chest, leaving her thoroughly sour.

Second Young Mistress Li, attending to the Princess Consort as she drank a bowl of calming soup, remarked casually:

“Third Sister-in-law doesn’t understand things yet. Mother, please don’t let it upset you. I’m sure she’ll select the finest gifts and bring them to you tomorrow.”

The Princess Consort shot her a glare. “As if I care for such things?”

What grieved her was that in the past, the estate’s annual tribute had all passed through her hands, and how she distributed it had never been questioned. Now she had no say in the matter. Truly, it was as they said: “Once a son takes a wife, he forgets his mother.”

Li had only earned herself a snub.

The eldest daughter-in-law, Lady Xie, recalled a more practical matter:

“Mother, now that the third brother’s wife has entered the household, she must be short of attendants. Shall we assign some matrons and maidservants to Qinghui Garden?”

Lady Xie held the authority over household management; all matters large and small fell under her purview.

In principle, the Princess Consort ought to assign servants to Xu Yunqi. But when Pei Muheng was twelve, a maidservant had tried to seduce him in a state of disarray. He flew into a rage, had her given twenty strokes of the rod, and then sold off. From that day on, he forbade anyone from coming near him. Thus the Princess Consort had her reservations.

She would rather slight her daughter-in-law than her son. “Heng’er doesn’t like commotion. We’ll forget about the staffing.”

“Besides, doesn’t that Xu woman have her own dowry attendants? She’s hardly lacking for servants, is she?”

Lady Xie’s expression became difficult. “Mother, I’ve seen her dowry inventory. She has only one inexperienced little maidservant with her.”

The Princess Consort’s expression soured even further. After a long pause, she said disdainfully, “Just as I thought—from a petty household, unschooled in proper ways.”

Thinking of the refined and cultivated Xun Yunling, the Princess Consort felt another pang of heartbreak. “Oh, forget it. Let her be.”

—

The next day was the bridal return visit. Xu Yunqi rose early and went to Jinhua Hall to pay her respects, bringing along some choice furs to present to her mother-in-law.

But when the mistress and her maid reached the passageway, the gatekeeper matron told her obliquely:

“Third Young Mistress, the Princess Consort’s migraine is acting up. She’s excused you from morning and evening greetings.”

Xu Yunqi paused briefly, debating whether to ask the matron to deliver the gifts on her behalf. Then she caught sight of the eldest young mistress, Lady Xie, stepping out unhurriedly from the courtyard, her hand resting on her maid’s arm.

Lady Xie’s gaze fell upon those vibrant furs, and understanding dawned.

Xu Yunqi realized at once: the Princess Consort was not ill—she simply did not wish to see her.

In that case, there was no need to force the matter.

Xu Yunqi inclined her head slightly toward Lady Xie and turned to leave Jinhua Hall.

Though she did not favor Xu Yunqi, the Princess Consort was fiercely concerned with appearances. She instructed Lady Xie to prepare generous return gifts for the bridal visit, and a carriage stood waiting at the side gate, fully loaded.

But Xu Yunqi and her maid had been sitting in the carriage for a full two quarters of an hour, and still Pei Muheng had not appeared.

Yinxing, already nursing grievances from the Princess Consort’s treatment, could no longer hold back:

“The Princess Consort is too much! You were married by His Majesty’s decree—you didn’t beg to marry into this family! Why must she torment you so?”

Xu Yunqi’s gaze drifted, then she looked over calmly. “How has she tormented me?”

Yinxing grumbled, “She refused to see you, didn’t she?”

Xu Yunqi said magnanimously, “She simply doesn’t care for me—that’s hardly torment. Look, she’s prepared such generous return gifts. If people don’t like us, we simply won’t go near them. Why trouble yourself over nothing? Remember why we came to the capital. Don’t let such small matters distract us.”

If the Princess Consort didn’t like her, that had its advantages too—look, she didn’t have to tread carefully while serving her mother-in-law.

Yinxing had wanted to argue, but at the latter part of her mistress’s speech, her eyelids drooped and she fell silent.

Half an hour later, Pei Muheng appeared, accompanied by the mansion’s chief steward.

The bridal return visit was the final ritual of the wedding—no small matter—and the chief steward naturally took charge of the arrangements.

Unlike the previous day, when they had been forced to share a carriage, Pei Muheng did not have to endure that discomfort today. He took a separate carriage of his own. He offered no explanation, and Xu Yunqi did not care. The party set off slowly southward.

Prince Xi’s mansion was located in Chengqing Ward near the imperial city, while the Xu residence lay far to the south in Chongbei Ward. Though the Xu family had enjoyed some local renown in Jingzhou, they were truly insignificant in the capital, where nobles abounded. To hold an official post in the capital was already a source of pride for the clan—to say nothing of now being allied by marriage with imperial relatives.

Thus, early that morning, Director Xu had instructed his wife to prepare a banquet in the inner quarters, while he led the entire family to wait at the front gate, anxious not to breach any propriety. Accompanying him in receiving the guests were the household’s eldest son, second son, and second daughter.

The second daughter, Xu Ruo, was the youngest and also the most willful. After waiting half the day without sight of the carriage, she burst out indignantly:

“If Eldest Sister had just married Mr. Jiang, none of this would have happened! But no—she had to reach for the moon in the water and the immortal in the sky! That world-renowned Third Master—how could someone like us even dream of him? Look, when Sister Mei next door got married, she and her husband returned to her family early in the morning. We’ve been waiting until the sun is nearly past its peak, and still no sign of them! Why must we suffer such humiliation!”

Director Xu was normally gentle and doted on his children, but today he darkened his expression. “What nonsense are you talking? Your elder sister was jostled onto that jade bridge—it had nothing to do with her!”

Xu Ruo remained unconvinced. These past days, every neighbor and relative had whispered in her ear, mocking Xu Yunqi for having ambitions above her station, for currying favor with the powerful. Having heard it so often, Xu Ruo felt her elder sister had ruined the reputation of the Xu daughters and would make it hard for her to find a good match in the future.

Director Xu looked at his innocent youngest daughter and shook his head.

Ever since Xu Yunqi had been granted this marriage by imperial decree, his standing at court had risen steadily. For his whole life, he had bowed and scraped, watching others’ faces. Now, for the first time, he tasted the flavor of being flattered. Director Xu felt an indescribable satisfaction.

With this alliance, the Xu family might not yet be counted among the capital’s elite, but they would at least be a household of some renown.

“You’re still young. You don’t understand the intricacies of these matters.” Fearing she might speak recklessly, he found an excuse to send her away.

A moment later, a servant’s voice came from the alley ahead:

“Master, they’re here! They’re here!”

Director Xu beamed, straightened his robes and hat, and craned his neck eagerly.

Before long, two lavish carriages drew up before the steps. Pei Muheng and Xu Yunqi descended one after the other.

Director Xu looked at the tall, jade-like figure of Pei Muheng and instinctively moved to bow. The mansion’s chief steward stepped forward with a smile to stop him:

“Director Xu, it should be our Third Master and Third Young Mistress paying their respects to you.”

Director Xu wiped his brow nervously.

The autumn sun blazed brightly, its clear light sifted through the treetops, casting fractured patches of light upon their shoulders. Xu Yunqi met her father’s cautious, unfamiliar gaze, walked to Pei Muheng’s side, and saluted with him:

“Father.”

“Father-in-law.”

Xu Yunqi did not want her family to worry, so she deliberately stood closer to Pei Muheng. He glanced at her but said nothing.

With the chief steward present, Pei Muheng did not need to make conversation. He sat back lazily in the guest seat, sipping tea in a leisurely manner. Director Xu carefully watched his expression while cautiously engaging the chief steward in small talk.

Xu Yunqi took Yinxing with her to the rear courtyard. She had not been with the Xu household long, and the servants did not know her well. She did not like strangers following her, so she instructed the matrons to handle the return gifts and went alone to her mother’s main courtyard.

Paper was dear in the capital, and though the Xu family had once been merchants, years of official life had consumed much of their wealth. They had only managed to buy a three-courtyard property, which felt cramped compared to the splendor of Prince Xi’s mansion.

Just as she reached the passageway by the hanging flower gate, she glimpsed figures through the carved window—several matrons huddled in a corner, cracking melon seeds and gossiping.

“Did you see it? The return gifts from the prince’s mansion are lavish—they probably match the eldest young lady’s entire dowry.”

“What do you mean? I thought I saw dowry chests carried out by the stream on the wedding day?”

The matron with a black mole at the corner of her mouth snorted. “What do you know? Those were all put on display by the prince’s mansion to save face. With our master’s means, how could he possibly match the prince’s household?”

Another disagreed. “I don’t think so. The eldest son still hasn’t married, and the second son and second daughter are still young. There are plenty of expenses ahead. Besides, the eldest young lady isn’t the master’s biological daughter—would he really empty his coffers for her?”

The mole-marked matron turned pale at that last remark and quickly clapped a hand over the speaker’s mouth. “Heavens above! You mustn’t say that ever again! If the prince’s mansion ever found out, it would be a disaster!”

Yinxing followed slowly behind Xu Yunqi, watching her tall, graceful figure, her eyes growing wet.

The smile at the corner of Xu Yunqi’s mouth faded, and the autumn breeze whisked it away completely.

Madam Zhang, Xu Yunqi’s mother, waited in the corridor of the main courtyard. When her daughter drew near, she slowly broke into a smile. Xu Yunqi greeted her with a full formal bow. Madam Zhang took her by the hand into the inner chamber and dismissed all the servants, leaving mother and daughter alone to speak in private.

Madam Zhang settled them both on the arhat couch. She first studied her daughter’s expression, found no clues, then asked, “How have these two days been at the prince’s mansion?”

Xu Yunqi held her mother’s soft, warm hands and smiled. “I do well wherever I am.”

Madam Zhang’s eyes welled with tears at her words.

Years ago, to avoid being rejected by her new husband’s family, she had left her little daughter in the countryside. At first, the child would cry. But later, whenever she went back to visit, the girl’s face always bore a smile, and she never shed another tear.

Don’t ask—when asked, she always said she was fine.

“Mother has failed you,” Madam Zhang said, lowering her head with a choked sob. Crystal tears fell onto Xu Yunqi’s hand. Xu Yunqi’s expression grew more serious.

“Mother, you have not failed me. You were abandoned by a faithless man—you deserved to find your own happiness. Were you supposed to let me drag you down for a lifetime? Only when you are well can I be well.”

Hearing Xu Yunqi’s comforting words, Madam Zhang’s tears only flowed harder.

Every time, this was what her daughter said—as if she were the one who needed no care.

Madam Zhang could not speak a word.

“Look at you now,” Xu Yunqi continued. “You have a son and a daughter, and you’ve made your place in the Xu family. Now that I have married into a high household, you can hold your head up high in this family. No one will dare look down on you anymore, and no one will bully you.”

Madam Zhang pulled her daughter into her embrace.

“I’ve never done anything for you, yet you always think of me.”

“If I had my way, I would rather you hadn’t married into Prince Xi’s household. All I want in this world is for someone to cherish you…” Madam Zhang’s shoulders shook as she wept uncontrollably.

As for that Pei Muheng—Madam Zhang had seen him once. A figure like an immortal, untouched by mortal concerns. How could such a man ever know how to cherish anyone?

Xu Yunqi’s eyes sparkled. “Why should I need someone else to cherish me? I can cherish myself.”

Just then, the door was pushed open forcefully from the outside, revealing a young face still carrying childishness but filled with fury. Behind her stood a flustered matron.

Xu Ruo stormed in, yanked Xu Yunqi out of Madam Zhang’s embrace, and glared at her fiercely:

“Elder Sister, everyone outside is saying you have no shame, that you deliberately seduced the Third Young Master. Is it true or not?”

At this, Madam Zhang forgot even to wipe away her tears and scolded angrily, “Ruo’er! How dare you speak such slander against your elder sister!”

Xu Yunqi looked at her younger sister with a headache and replied with an unconcerned smile:

“The Third Young Master is renowned throughout the capital. If just any woman could seduce him, he would have been married long ago—there would have been no chance for me.”

Xu Ruo pondered this, and it seemed to make sense.

Xu Yunqi patted her sister’s head and advised gently, “Others are jealous of our Xu family, so they speak ill of us. You’re a clever girl—surely you wouldn’t fall for their scheme to drive a wedge between sisters?”

Xu Yunqi thought she had convinced her sister, but then Xu Ruo knitted her brows and fixed her with a suspicious stare:

“But that night, I saw you lift your skirt and run toward the Third Young Master with my own eyes.”

Xu Yunqi froze.

The room fell utterly silent.

Everyone was looking at her.

The dappled light streamed through the window lattice and fell slantwise on her brow, blurring the complexity in her eyes at just the right angle.

That night, the crowd had been roaring. She had been pushed and jostled beneath the bridge by the surging masses. And then, as if guided by fate, a familiar yet long-lost mellow voice seemed to pierce through the turbulent sea of people, emerging from the dust of ages to seep into her ear.

Without thinking, she had followed the direction of that voice. But in that same instant, the fireworks bloomed, the splendor faded, and the voice vanished without a trace—as if it had all been a fleeting dream.

Yes, he was already dead. He had died when she was only four years old. How could he possibly have appeared in the imperial palace?

Rather than dredge up her mother’s old sorrows, Xu Yunqi did not mind being misunderstood. She offered a resigned explanation:

“Yes, I had heard that the Third Young Master was as handsome as Pan An, so I wanted to get a closer look.”

Outside the window, the sky was bright. Director Xu was leading Pei Muheng to pay his respects to his mother-in-law, Madam Zhang. The party passed silently through the passageway. At the head of the group, the man with a handsome, deeply sculpted face cast a blank expression toward the window, heard nothing, and stepped up onto the dais.