Chapter Seven

Days passed neither too fast nor too slow, and before long it was the eighth day of the second month. Ming Tingyuan, the Marquis Jing’an, who had been serving on assignment as the commander on Yangxi Road, completed his term and returned to the capital.

He held military and civil authority over the region and had an outstanding record in office. His report to the court upon returning would affect appointments among the high officials, so many were quietly watching.

The Chengkang Emperor sent a verbal edict ordering the Marquis Jing’an to present himself at court immediately upon entering the city. Once inside, Ming Tingyuan split from his household and retainers into two groups: one headed straight for Qixuan Gate, the other made its way to the Marquis Jing’an’s residence on Nanjue Street.

Hearing that the marquis had gone straight into the palace without passing by the family gate, it was Mistress Liu and the others who returned first; the household’s movements slowed noticeably—after all, there were no grand ceremonies for welcoming the mistress’s illegitimate daughter back to the residence.

When Mistress Liu and Ming Chu disembarked, only Madam Pei’s attendant Zhang and a few maids and elder servants waited at the side gate.

Perhaps because she was specially favored, having endured five years in the harsh borderlands west of Yang, Mistress Liu’s looks were little different from before; if anything, they seemed to have gained an extra radiance.

As for Third Miss Ming Chu, she was hard to recognize at a glance. When she left the capital she had been only eleven or twelve; five years later her features had blossomed and her bearing was very different. Dressed in a striking red gown, spirited and radiant, she now carried the brisk, martial elegance of a general’s daughter.

“You want me and Mother to enter through the side gate?” Ming Chu frowned, clearly displeased with Madam Zhang’s arrangement.

One must understand that on Yangxi Road, wherever she went, she was the prized daughter of the Shuai family, never treated with neglect.

Yet this choice was terribly inappropriate — this was the capital; the main gate could not be opened casually. Even Madame Pei ordinarily used the side gate. Of course, if today they returned to the residence with the Marquis, they would indeed have the chance to enter through the front gate.

Madam Zhang was about to explain properly when Concubine Liu stepped forward and took Ming Chu’s hand, tightening her grip discreetly.

Remembering Lady Liu’s warnings on the way back to the capital, Ming Chu stiffened but decided to hold her tongue for now. She pulled her face past Nurse Zhang and strode straight through the side gate—

At the same time, Ming Tan was throwing a huge tantrum in the Reflection-on-Water courtyard.

She slapped the letter in her hand onto the table and couldn’t help sweeping the expensive teacup and teapot off the table in a single sweep.

The china shattered with a startling, crisp sound. She banged the table and suddenly stood up, pacing the room as she muttered, “Despicable, utterly despicable! I thought this family was merely rude and shameless, but I underestimated them—they actually targeted me!”

Her anger made her voice tremble. After clenching her ten fingers, her knuckles went white, and faint bluish veins were visible on the backs of her hands.

Suxin and Lü’e were terrified; the worst part was they didn’t know what had happened.

Only a couple of days ago their young mistress had been brimming with spirit and determination, intent on dressing splendidly to outshine the Third Miss returning to the residence today. Early this morning she had even sent someone to fetch flowers that had been bathed in the morning dew, and thickly applied a layer of jade-powder to her face, saying that after washing it off her skin would be especially tender and bright.

But just after breakfast a maid from the Bai residence arrived with a sealed letter, bringing word that Bai Minmin had intended to come in person to tell her what was in the letter, but considering that today was the Hou family’s reunion it would be inappropriate to call, so she had written it down and sent it instead.

What exactly was written in that letter they did not know, yet it had driven the young miss of the Ming family—who always preached that “a lady of a good family must never lose decorum or composure no matter what she encounters; shouting, screaming, and smashing things is no different from a common madwoman”—into a terrible frenzy…

I recall the chrysanthemum banquet two years ago, when Princess Fengzhao stormed in and snatched the “Flower Mistress” title that she had been all but guaranteed. When she came back then, she only smashed a porcelain cup—she even hurled it at the Imperial Concubine’s couch and didn’t even chip it.

But this time, smashing the teacup and porcelain pot wasn’t the end of it; she paced around the room a few times, then suddenly grabbed the letter and dashed out.

Seeing this, composed Suxin panicked for the first time and hurried after her, reminding, “Miss, where are you going? Third Miss and Consort have already returned to the residence, and you haven’t even put on the hairpin you just ordered!”

Mingtan paused in her steps.

Oh, right. The hairpin.

And that mother-daughter pair.

She turned and walked into the inner chamber, expressionless as she sat back down at her dressing chest.

Suxin gently nudged Lve’e, who was a bit stunned and stammered before she caught on: “Mi…Miss, please don’t be angry. People aren’t beautiful when they’re angry… Not that you’re not beautiful—no matter what you do you’re beautiful—but when you smile, you’re even more, more devastatingly beautiful, overthrowing kingdoms and enchanting all who see you!”

She didn’t know whether Lü’e had praised her at the right moment, or whether seeing her own face had cooled her temper, but after Ming Tan sat down, she became noticeably calmer.

Her father had just entered the palace to present himself to the emperor; rushing out now wouldn’t only fail to find anyone, it would also make them a laughingstock.

Besides, even if her father returned, he couldn’t just storm in and demand to break the engagement. They hadn’t seen each other for five years—who knew how many wicked tales Ming Chu and Concubine Liu had spun to him. If the misunderstanding was blamed on her lack of manners and led the Duke’s household to look down on and mistreat her, that would be disastrous.

Moreover, she didn’t have much confidence. The man in her memory had treated her well, but he wasn’t like her uncle, who doted on Bai Minmin down to the bone; he wouldn’t be willing to offend the Duke’s household for her.

She picked up the newly made silver moon tassel hairpin on the table, examined it for a moment, then suddenly ordered, “Suxin, fetch a plain handkerchief and soak it with some garlic juice.”

“Yes.”

“There’s one more thing, come here.”

She signaled for Suxin to come closer, tucked the letter sent by the maid of the Bai household back into its envelope and handed it to her, whispering a few words in her ear.

Suxin was the sort who didn’t ask questions unless her mistress spoke; after accepting the task, she lowered her hands and stepped back.

Mingtan exhaled in relief, then instructed Lü E: “Redress me, but nothing too fancy; change my outfit as well.”

Earlier she had been focused only on outshining Ming Chu, forgetting that meeting her father was the more important matter.

So under her repeated picky guidance, Lü E finally arranged her into an appearance that was fresh and refined, with a hint of fragile grace.

She stood before the full-length bronze mirror for a while, then curved her lips in satisfaction: “Let’s go to Lanxin Courtyard.”

Lan Xing Courtyard belonged to the Pei family. To get there from Zhaoshui Courtyard, one had to pass through a covered corridor along the wall and then go through the Dongkua Courtyard garden.

The group walked forward along the patrol corridor and had just reached the Dongkua Courtyard garden when they heard a commotion ahead.

“Oh… she’s the granddaughter of the old madam’s maternal family’s younger brother. How long has the old madam been gone? That’s quite a distant relation. And if I remember correctly, the old madam’s natal family used to be an earl’s household; their status was already reduced long ago and couldn’t be lowered any further. They haven’t had contact with our residence for years—I thought they were proper kin.” Ming Chu mocked.

Shen Hua: “Third sister, you!”

“What do you mean ‘you’? Cousin, I only called you that out of respect for the late matriarch. You really don’t consider yourself an outsider. Mother and I have only just returned to the residence, and already I meet you in the garden reciting some kind of lachrymose poem — are you deliberately trying to upset us? If you’re living under someone else’s roof you ought to behave yourself!”

Ming Chu had been displeased from entering the estate through the side gate; the servants she encountered along the way were nowhere near as attentive as those on the Yangxi Road. Then she ran into Shen Hua in the garden, mouthing some sorrowful verse, and that righteous temper she’d been suppressing finally burst out. Her words dripped with sarcasm, and her tone was insolently implacable.

Shen Hua was furious.

In the past, when she and Ming Tan had quarrelsome beginnings, Shen Hua was often driven to anger, but at least Ming Tan was a daughter of a notable family — subtlety hidden beneath softness was one thing. Ming Chu, however, was coarse and rude, completely lacking the manners and poise of a proper young lady!

She was about to retort when another voice behind her mocked with casual ease: “Third Sister, be careful—Mother is in Lanxin Court, not here.”

Both sides on the ridge instinctively turned their heads.

At the corner of the covered walkway a group of maidservants in green were coming. After a few paces they stopped, forming two neat lines and lowering their eyes in deference—

From between them a girl in a jade-white, gold-embroidered brocade dress walked forward with measured steps. Her skin was like snow, her hair black as ink, her eyes as clear as cut water. Her delicate hand lightly fanned a silk fan; with each step the silver moon-tassel hairpin at her temple swayed, scattering tiny gleams.

Although her outfit wasn’t particularly extravagant, from afar she carried a fragile, exquisite air like a precious porcelain vase—too delicate to set on the ground for fear it might topple, too fragile to hold in the palm for fear it might shatter—so beautiful one couldn’t look away.

Even Shen Hua, who had seen such displays before, hesitated for a moment before coming to her senses. For a moment she didn’t know whether to, as usual, silently mock Ming Tan for being affected, or to thank her for using that affectation to intimidate a certain shrew who clearly had no notion of proper feminine decorum.

“Is this Fourth Miss?” Concubine Liu quickly recognized Ming Tan, smiling gently and speaking softly, “It’s been years—Fourth Miss has truly grown quite lovely.”

She hadn’t been able to stop Ming Chu earlier mainly because she hadn’t taken Shen Hua very seriously. But Ming Tan was different; if Ming Tan insisted on making an issue of that title, there was a very good chance she would make trouble for Madam Pei.

“Auntie’s praise is flattering. From what I see, Third Sister has grown… quite different from us girls who have long stayed in the capital.”

Ming Tan responded to Aunt Liu, but didn’t spare her a glance. Instead, just as Ming Chu had examined Shen Hua a moment before, she looked Ming Chu up and down with disdain.

Ming Chu came to her senses belatedly: “You!”

“What do you mean ‘you’? Third Sister, this is the capital—it’s very improper to point at someone when speaking.” Ming Tan slowly pressed down her finger with a fan. “You haven’t returned to the capital in a long time; you must have forgotten many rules. Acting as you did today—unaware of where Mother is, failing to show respect to relatives who came from afar, pointing your finger at your younger sister and showing no pity—that sort of spectacle out in public will be talked about for months. It is Third Sister who should behave with propriety.”

Ming Chu had every retort she’d rehearsed earlier choking back inside her; her anger burned, and she stared at Ming Tan as if her eyes might shoot flames.

Seeing she was about to draw the soft whip at her waist, Concubine Liu hurried forward to hold her back, whispering, “Chuchu!”

Ming Chu fixed her gaze on the girl before her. The word “bitch” was on the tip of her tongue, but for some reason she swallowed it.

Her mother had been right—no matter what, she had to hold back until after the engagement. Pei Shi was her lawful stepmother; if she grabbed at any faults and made a scene, it would be terribly disadvantageous if her stepmother stirred up trouble during the betrothal.

Aunt Liu forced a smile to calm Ming Chu, then looked at Ming Tan: “Fourth Miss, Chu Chu—”

Ming Tan, not wanting to listen, cut her off: “It’s getting late. I still have to pay respects to Mother, so I won’t stay long.”

Seeing this, Shen Hua followed her: “Fourth Sister, I’ll go with you.”

She had never liked Ming Tan, but today, against the contrast of Ming Chu, she found this old rival looking considerably more refined.

As the saying goes, evil people will meet their match. Her Fourth Miss sure knew how to get under one’s skin — every other sentence was indecent, every other sentence was about propriety. And accusing her of “not pitying her younger sister”? She’s only a year younger; hardly a child. Her knack for flattering herself is simply natural.

But in no time, Shen Hua realized she had been mistaken.

Compared to her skill at flattering herself, the young Miss Ming’s talent for performing was enough to upstage the famed actors of the Fuchun troupe.

After the two of them arrived at the Pei residence and had only been sitting a short while, someone came in from outside to say that the Marquis had already returned to the mansion and was on his way to Lanxin Courtyard.

Everyone rose to greet them.

Shen Hua inadvertently caught sight of Ming Tan taking a plain handkerchief from her wide sleeve to press at her eyes; her eye sockets reddened, tears shimmering.

Shen Hua was thinking that she had never noticed any deep father-daughter affection between her and the Marquis of Jing’an… when she saw Ming Tan lift her skirt and fling herself at the middle-aged man who had just entered the courtyard—tall, with a short beard—calling out repeatedly, “Daddy.”

Ming Tan’s voice was soft and clear, with a touch of feigned restraint in her sobbing that could easily stir up a protective instinct.

Sure enough, having not seen his young daughter for five years and supposedly having difficulty recognizing her at first glance, Ming Tingyuan immediately patted Ming Tan’s thin shoulder and, in a coarse voice, soothed, “Good girl, what’s the matter? Were you bullied by someone?”

Mingtan lifted her little head, eyes red, shaking her head: “No, it wasn’t, it was Atan who missed Father too much.” But as soon as the words left her mouth, clear tears streamed down her cheeks.

She hurriedly wiped them with her handkerchief, then reluctantly stepped back half a pace and bowed, saying, “Atan greets Father. Atan behaved improperly and momentarily forgot the rules of etiquette. Please punish me, Father.”

Ming Tingyuan felt very pleased in his heart.

His little daughter, whom he hadn’t seen in five years, was filial and sensible, proper and well-mannered, and above all had grown into someone as lovely as a celestial—yes, truly worthy of being his daughter, Ming Tingyuan.