Deep into winter, in the capital the snow fell like goose feathers. On a cold winter night the wind spun around the corridor eaves and lanterns, and by the fifth watch a faint silver whiteness showed outside.

In the Jing’an Marquis’s residence, in the Zhaoshui courtyard, fresh snow clung to the green plum branches.

The clapper sounds that had earlier disturbed peaceful dreams were now growing more distant, and the hurried, short steps of the household maids and serving girls sounded out in the still night.

After a while, two soft knocks came at the front door of the main room, and someone whispered, “Young miss.”

It was Zhang Mama who attended Lady Hou.

Suxin was arranging the morning meal; seeing Mingtan sitting without replying, she gave a look to Lüyè, who stood behind Mingtan.

Lüyè understood, put down the horn comb in her hand, and stepped lightly to the main reception room to greet the visitors.

It was probably the servant on duty who had opened the door. When Lüyè reached the main room, Zhang Mama was leading the matrons from Jinxiu Workshop followed by a line of little maids carrying trays.

Through the hazy candlelight, the pale green hem of the second-rank maid’s dress at the Jing’an Marquisate seemed to ripple into a neat, uniform curve by the door.

“Madam Zhang.” Lü’e was quick-witted, smiling brightly as she bowed.

Madam Zhang gave a mock scolding glance, hastily reached out to steady her, then looked over toward the screen. That single look told her: with Lü’e standing here to greet her, the young miss won’t be coming out.

She and Lü’e were fairly well acquainted; after exchanging a few polite words, she introduced the woman from Jinxiu Workshop who had come forward to present the freshly made attire and headpiece meant for attending the palace banquet.

“…The pelt Madam Hou sent, glossy, smooth and flawless, is already a rare top-quality piece. I heard it was an imperial gift from the autumn hunt—messing it up would be a grave sin. You see, it has our shopkeeper in quite a quandary!

“After much thought, our shopkeeper personally went to invite Madam Zhang to oversee the stitching. As you know, Miss Lue, since marriage Madam Zhang rarely takes up needlework; bringing her in to supervise took quite an effort. Look at the embroidery pattern, look at the stitching.”

As the matron from the Embroidery Workshop spoke, the young maid behind her brought the neatly pressed silver fox cloak forward for Lue to inspect.

Lue leaned in, examined it carefully for a moment, and her eyes showed mild approval: “It’s fully embroidered, the silver satin is an excellent match—they haven’t wasted the pelt.”

She examined it inside and out, and only when she was satisfied did she say, “This palace banquet came on so suddenly, yet it was made so finely by lamplight—your shopkeeper has been thoughtful.”

The maid hurriedly laughed and offered a modest reply, her heart finally settling.

This Miss Lǜ’e served the little sovereign of the Jing’an Marquis—the legitimate youngest daughter, Ming Tan. Raised in gold and jade, spoiled and cherished, she had seen the finest things and was extremely picky; ordinary items rarely won Lǜ’e’s approval when it came to the young lady.

By chance, this little sovereign was indebted to their shopkeeper. Before dawn today, the shopkeeper had sent her to deliver the Jing’an Marquis family’s garments, and had specially insisted that she must personally call on the young miss.

With those words from Lü’e — “you meant well” — she could finally go back and properly report, and sleep soundly at last-

At the Zhaoshui residence, Lü’e put away the garments, stuffed a generous purse into her sash, and politely saw Zhang Mama and her party out through the liuhuamen.

At the Fenghe residence, the other group carrying clothes and headpieces trailed behind and had only just reached the main room.

Huang Mama, who also tended to the Marquis’s wife, made a bow and, smiling, introduced the clothes and jewelry to Cousin Shen Hua, who was lodging at the Marquis’s household.

Shen Hua listened, glanced at the brocades, ornate clothes, and jeweled hairpins in the tray, and then, with the submissive courtesy of a betrothal gift, said softly, “Thank you, Aunt Huang, for making the trip. Ah Hua thanks Madam.”

She then sent a look to her personal maid.

The maid understood, stepped forward briskly, and slipped an exquisitely embroidered purse into Aunt Huang’s hand.

The purse was delicate, but there wasn’t much reward money inside.

After leaving the Wind Lotus Courtyard, Madam Huang folded her sleeves and weighed the gains.

She didn’t care much for a few tips, but she happened to run into Madam Zhang coming out of the Reflection Pond Courtyard, and the two of them weren’t on good terms.

“I’ve long heard that serving the young miss brings generous rewards—turns out it’s true. When I leave the manor next time, I can finally buy that rouge I saw at the Láncuì Pavilion the other day.”

Behind Madam Zhang, a round-faced maid who had just been promoted to second rank and was entering the Reflection Pond Courtyard for the first time was chatting about it with her companion.

The tall girl behind Madam Huang snorted lightly: “It’s just an ordinary reward. When you go buy rouge, don’t say you’re from our Hou residence — we don’t want people to think everyone from the Jing’an Marquis’s household is so uncouth.”

The round-faced maid had risen from third rank to second in just half a year, and her gift of gab was not to be underestimated.

She quickly feigned surprise: “Such a reward is nothing… Could the money the young cousin gave buy an entire rouge shop?”

“You!”

“Alright, don’t take it to heart.” Someone held the tall maid back. “We’re all from the lady’s household; when we run an errand, the only thing that matters is that it goes smoothly. Nothing else is worth fussing over.”

The tall maid, mollified, followed that thought to the core and, instead of getting angry, laughed: “Exactly, errands are all about going smoothly. From the whole mansion’s perspective, I doubt there’s any task that’s smoother than going to Miss Biao’s place.”

She didn’t mention how tedious the little miss’s tasks actually were; the round-faced girl pretended not to know and stayed silent.

The tall maid added, “Come to think of it, it’s rare—Miss Biao is gentle and beautiful, talented in every way, and even so kind to her servants.”

“I think what’s even rarer is having a good brother,” another maid chimed in from behind Madam Huang.

The tall maid agreed: “Exactly. With General Shen around, the young miss’s prospects surely won’t be bad.”

The round-faced girl smiled: “You two are worrying about the wrong things. Madam and the little miss are our true mistresses. What becomes of the young miss is her own fate and has nothing to do with you two.”

Without thinking, the tall one retorted quickly: “The young miss is residing in the Marquis’s household. If she gains standing, it brings honor to the household too—how can we not care? Who knows, by the end of the day she might be sitting pretty, moving up to Changyu Street.”

A chill wind seemed to sweep through the corridor in an instant. The East Garden promenade, which had been lively moments before, fell suddenly silent because of that one sentence—

In the capital, everyone knew: on Changyu Street there was only one mansion.

The person who lived there was not someone anyone could casually talk about.

Those two mothers who had been arguing as if they hadn’t heard any of this abruptly stopped, turned back and snapped sharply, “What nonsense are you spouting! The one on Changyu Street is something you can just make up? Who gave you the nerve to gossip here!”

The maids were startled, realizing they had said the wrong thing; each held their breath, their heads wishing they could hang down to their toes. The maid who had just mentioned Changyu Street went even paler, the sandalwood tray in her hands trembling.

“…Someone mentioned Changyu Street, and the two madams flew into a terrible rage. After following to the East Garden, this slave feared being discovered, so I didn’t dare follow any further.”

In the Fenghe Courtyard, Shen Hua stood by the main room window, listening to her personal maid report on what she had overheard while tailing them.

When the maid finished, Shen Hua’s lips twitched into a small smile. As she looked toward Zhaoshui Courtyard, a trace of disdain flashed in her eyes—one that didn’t quite match her usual gentle demeanor.

“So I am not gentle or beautiful, my talents are inferior to hers, and I am not kind enough to you. Oh, my brother is also not as brave and skillful in battle as General Shen, and his prospects are not as good.”

In the Reflection Courtyard, Ming Tan propped his chin on his hand at the table and recounted it deliberately.

The silver-brewed tea smelled soft and faint, hidden among the aromas of the morning meal, almost imperceptible. That face, as fair and translucent as congealed jade, was partly obscured by the curling white steam rising from the boiling water for tea, making it hard to see clearly.

“Don’t take that chatty nonsense to heart, Miss. In the capital’s circle of young ladies, your looks and temperament are truly outstanding.”

Lv E couldn’t stop it; the little maid who was answering everything went through the whole story in detail, so she had to change the subject to save face: “By the way, Miss, I’ve looked over the things the madam sent. You’re entering the palace today—how about wearing this set?”

Lv E handled clothes in the dressing courtyard and had quite an eye for matching garments and jewelry. Before long, she moved from the name “Tan” discreetly carved on the jade hairpin to the white fox silver-satin cloak embroidered all over.

She went through each item and got no response, so Lv E couldn’t help but raise her eyes and steal a glance: “Miss?” Her voice took on a note of caution.

Suxin, who was serving the meal, set a bowl of plain congee in front of Ming Tan and also chimed in with a reminder: “Miss, you should take a look at the clothes.”

Mingtan glanced up and swept her eyes over the tray in Lü’e’s hands: “Just this outfit, doesn’t it all look the same anyway.”

Then she switched to propsing her chin on one hand, the free hand idly playing with the porcelain spoon in the porridge bowl.

It was just after the fifth watch when she rose; she wore a pear-blossom white embroidered nightgown with dark floral branches, draped in a soft fox cape, raven-black hair cascading like a waterfall down her waist, a stray lock restlessly falling across her thin cheek.

No one knew what she was thinking; her eyelash-like lashes trembled from time to time, as if echoing the wavering candle reflected on the bowl’s wall, lending her the fragile, jade-like grace of a beauty.

Unfortunately, the beauty had no appetite at the moment; a bowl of plain porridge had barely cooled before she still hadn’t touched it.

Seeing her like this, Su Xin, who usually spoke little, couldn’t help but urge her: “Plain porridge is good for the stomach, Miss, please have some more; you have to go to the palace today.”

Palace banquets have strict etiquette and are not as comfortable as dining at home—Su Xin meant well. But once the palace was mentioned, Ming Tan felt an even greater tightness in her chest.

There had never been a palace banquet for the Lantern Festival before; everyone from the noble families knew why this special banquet was being held now. Yet the court insisted on secrecy, and even someone like her, who already had a betrothal, was required to attend.

If it had been ordinary, joining the gossip wouldn’t have been entirely out of the question, but her mind was full of the rotten business: her fiancé and his cousin had been involved, and they even already had an illegitimate son!

Although the matter had been tightly concealed—her personal maid didn’t even know— that illegitimate child was already two years old, lively and able to call out “father.” No matter what happened to the marriage in the end, it would inevitably become ironclad evidence that Miss Ming of the Ming family had been abandoned by her fiancé.

Thinking that the marriage, once the envy of many and a source of her own pride, would most likely end in a manner entirely lacking in dignity, Ming Tan felt the silver-charcoal in the brazier heat up her entrails one moment, and the next felt the cooling plain congee slide from her throat down into her heart.

“I’m not eating.” Distraught, she set down the porcelain spoon and stood up to walk toward the inner chamber.

Suxin sighed as she watched her back and didn’t press further, directing the young maids to clear away the nearly untouched breakfast.

“Miss has been odd these past few days. If it’s because those girls speak ill of her behind her back, report it to madam and have them dismissed. There’s no reason to neglect her clothes like this.”

Their young mistress cared most about her dress and appearance; every time she left the house she had to be immaculate from hair to the patterns on her shoes. No wonder Lü’e was suspicious—she leaned close to Suxin and whispered in her ear.

Suxin didn’t know either. “Last night when I was on watch I asked once, but Miss wouldn’t say—perhaps she wants some quiet. All right, I’ll go to the kitchen and simmer a bowl of shredded chicken congee; Miss should have something in her stomach before going to court. And you mustn’t bother her.”

Suxin was slightly older and calm and meticulous, which earned her Ming Tan’s highest regard. Lv’e puckered her lips and didn’t dare argue; she twisted the silk sash at her waist and watched Suxin leave.

As soon as Suxin’s figure disappeared beyond the hanging flower gate, she immediately turned back and tiptoed into the inner chamber.

The inner chamber of Zhaoshui Courtyard was decorated with elegant luxury and refined taste — from the carved daybed to the tiny silver sash hooks, each piece carried its own complicated history. The incense used varied with the season and weather, each choice observing its own particular subtleties.

Today the room smelled faintly of pear, barely there: sweet and slightly cool. Ming Tan sat at the dressing table, propping her head with one hand, looking listless and too lethargic to summon any energy.

“Miss, shall this servant continue to do your hair?” Lü E stepped closer and asked cautiously.

Ming Tan didn’t answer; Lü E took that as consent and, picking up the corner comb, began to braid Ming Tan’s hair while self-righteously trying to ease her worries: “Are you troubled that the young lady of the Biao family is going into the palace today? Don’t worry, Miss. What sort of status does that master have? How could he truly take a fancy to her? Even if he did, given the Biao family’s background, becoming a concubine would already be a stretch for her — how could she compare to you? You, Miss, will be properly the future wife of the Duke’s heir.”

Ming Tan: “…”

“Besides, our Young Master of the Duke’s household is handsome and accomplished; who in the capital wouldn’t envy you and the Young Master as the golden couple, a perfect match from birth!”

That remark from Lü’e was delivered so lightly, but the tone—so full of entitlement—sounded to Ming Tan’s ears like a knife.

Who would want to pair off with that shameless, born-for-each-other match? As if he deserves it!

She feared that if the girl said another word she’d be driven to spit blood, so she closed her eyes and raised a hand to signal her to stop: “Bring me the mirror.”

Lü’e didn’t know what she’d said wrong, but her wits were quick; she hastily fetched the little bronze mirror and, being sensible, changed tack—standing to one side and lavishly praising Ming Tan’s swan-like, fish-sinking beauty.

Mingtan studied the person in the mirror closely, not responding. Yet from the way the corners of her mouth lifted, it was easy to tell she agreed wholeheartedly with Lu E’s praise.

—That girl Lu E spoke impulsively and often stabbed at her heart, but she wasn’t wrong: with a face like this, even plain rice could be eaten in extra bowls.

After half a moment of gazing at herself in the mirror, the great fury she had been feeling inexplicably eased, leaving only one thought in her head: How could I be this beautiful!