The wine on the table was poured one by one.
“This is our family’s homemade wine—light and refreshing, perfect for ladies to drink,” Madam Qin said with a smile to Cheng Jiao-niang beside her. “Do try it.”
Before Cheng Jiao-niang could respond, Qin Shi’san-lang, sitting across from her, spoke up first.
“Mother, Lady Cheng does not care for wine, nor does she drink tea. Please don’t insist,” he said.
Madam Qin shot him a sidelong glare.
Meanwhile, a maid, following Qin Shi’san-lang’s instructions, brought Cheng Jiao-niang a cup of plain water.
The melodious strains of the pipa in the hall came to a stop.
Lady Zhu, who had been sitting upright, rose and gave a graceful bow.
Applause and murmurs of admiration rose from all sides, interrupting the conversation.
“Would you prefer singing or dancing?” Lady Zhu asked with a courteous bow.
“Lady Zhu is an excellent dancer,” Madam Qin remarked.
Lady Zhu smiled brightly and bowed again.
“I have newly choreographed a dance to entertain the company,” she said.
Madam Qin neither approved nor refused, instead turning her attention back to Cheng Jiao-niang.
Lady Zhu took a few steps back and signaled to the musician, who plucked the strings with a crisp zheng zheng, and a light, lively melody began.
“Mountain temple awaits the plum blossoms…”
Her mellifluous voice rose in song.
Qin Shi’san-lang, who had just taken a sip of tea, suddenly choked and spat it out.
The commotion drew everyone’s attention, and Lady Zhu paused her performance.
“It’s nothing, nothing. Your song just…” Qin Shi’san-lang said with a laugh, taking a handkerchief from a maid to cover his mouth.
Lady Zhu smiled faintly, her eyes glimmering with charm under the bright night lanterns, leaving the young men in the room momentarily spellbound.
“I one once visited Qieting Temple and saw those nameless characters. I was so taken with them that I spent an entire day studying them, and they inspired this dance. Thus, I used those characters as the opening line,” she said with a graceful curtsy, her voice melodious. “Do you find it inappropriate?”
At her words, the others remembered as well and burst into laughter.
“Shi’san-lang, it’s not like you’ve never seen those characters before. Why so surprised?” someone teased.
Qin Shi’san-lang raised his hand in an apologetic gesture, still smiling.
“Not at all, not at all,” he said. “Please proceed as you wish, Lady Zhu.”
With a faint smile, Lady Zhu gave a graceful bow. The musician plucked the strings once more, and the lively rhythm of the pipa rose again as she began to sing and dance.
Hidden in the shadows behind a pillar, Chun Ling stared fixedly at the young nobleman. Seeing him gaze intently at Lady Zhu as she twirled and swayed on the floor, her own eyes couldn’t help but gleam with excitement.
What man in this world could remain indifferent to Lady Zhu?
“Young Master Qin is quite amusing…”
A hushed whisper reached her ears.
“…He must be deliberately engaging Lady Zhu in conversation…”
Chun Ling turned her head.
“Who is this ‘Young Master Qin’?” she asked, her expression one of surprise.
Two servant boys crouched nearby, and upon hearing her, they pointed discreetly.
“Young Master Qin is, well, Young Master Qin—the thirteenth son of the Qin family, seated at the head of the table. How can you come to someone’s home and not even know the host?” they snickered in low voices.
Chun Ling whipped her head back in shock.
Qin Shi’san–lang!
The famously crippled yet erudite youngest son of the Qin family!
He was that Qin Shi’san–lang?!
Unable to restrain herself, she took a few steps forward, studying the young nobleman seated at the head of the hall. His gaze had already shifted, now directed toward one corner of the room, his lips curving into a tender smile. He mouthed something silently, his eyes brimming with affection…
Following his line of sight, Chun Ling saw a plainly dressed girl sitting upright, her lips also curling into a faint smile.
“Look, look!” Madam Qin nudged Madam Chen beside her with a chuckle. “Who knows what sweet nothings they’re exchanging with their eyes.”
Madam Chen sipped her wine.
“If you ask me, it’s a case of ‘the gentleman has intentions, but the lady has none,'” she murmured with a laugh.
Madam Qin shot her a glare.
“You’re just jealous,” she sniffed. “You see how close my son is with Lady Cheng.”
“Closeness won’t change a thing,” Madam Chen retorted, tapping her with a fan.
“I refuse to believe that. Since when do human feelings lose to some rigid rule?” Madam Qin countered. She paused, her gaze settling on the young lady, who had now schooled her expression and was watching the performance attentively.
The hall was alive with exquisite song and dance, laughter and chatter filling the air. Maids crowded around, and the night lanterns cast a dazzling glow—a scene of pure revelry. Yet, as one’s eyes fell upon that composed young lady, flanked by Chen Shi’ba-niang and Chen Dan-niang whispering and giggling beside her, she seemed to exist in a world apart. An aura of solitude and melancholy cut through the surrounding gaiety like a blade.
This little one…
“I refuse to believe we can’t coax a smile out of her,” Madam Qin muttered under her breath.
…
As the morning light gradually brightened, the towering three-tiered city gate grew clearer and clearer before their eyes.
“Young Master, Young Master, don’t fall asleep,” the old servant lifted the carriage curtain and urged.
Inside the carriage, Wang Shi’qi-lang had already slumped over, eyes shut.
“Young Master, there might be people outside the city gate seeing us off…” the old servant whispered.
Wang Shi’qi-lang waved his hand impatiently without opening his eyes.
“We had to get up so early for this journey – I’m exhausted! The Zhou family’s people are all with us anyway, who else would come to see us off?” he grumbled.
That did make sense. The old servant nodded, though for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling that there should be many people coming to bid farewell…
Was he overthinking it?
After a moment’s hesitation, he let the curtain fall back into place and turned to look ahead. The Zhou family’s guards, a dozen or so mounted on tall horses, rode noisily in front. Behind them came the carriage of Lady Cheng, followed by their own carriage, with two additional baggage carts bringing up the rear for miscellaneous items.
The old servant watched the carriages moving ahead and felt things had taken an unexpected turn.
Originally, the journey home from the capital was supposed to be their responsibility. But after that lady spoke up, the Zhou family had arranged everything…
Hmm, why did he think “after that lady spoke up”?
As he was lost in thought, the carriage driver reined in the horses.
Snapping back to attention, the old servant frowned and looked ahead.
Though it was still early, the city gate was usually crowded with people and vehicles coming and going, prone to congestion.
But what he saw was no ordinary traffic jam. Pedestrians and carriages had been cleared aside, as if a special path had been opened just for their departure…
A special path opened just for them…
Was he overthinking things again?
“Steward Gu, there are people seeing us off up ahead. The Zhou family has gone to meet them,” a servant came running to report.
So there really were people coming to bid farewell?
“Who is it?” he couldn’t help asking.
“Daquan says it’s Madam Zhou,” the servant replied.
Madam Zhou? But when Master Zhou came to see them off this morning, didn’t he say his wife hadn’t fully recovered from her illness and couldn’t make it?
Could the bond between aunt and niece really be so deep that she would struggle to come despite her illness?
Since it was someone from the Zhou family, Wang Shi’qi-lang had no choice but to go forward.
“Young Master, Young Master, get up quickly! Madam Zhou has come to see us off,” he urged.
“It’s not me she’s seeing off,” Wang Shi’qi-lang grumbled under his breath.
The old servant wouldn’t indulge his whims and forcibly pulled him up, hurrying over. Sure enough, they saw a finely dressed woman surrounded by maids standing before a carriage – her elegant robes and beautiful face partially hidden behind her sleeve as she laughed at some remark.
She didn’t look the least bit ill!
“Eh? Where’s Madam Zhou?” Wang Shi’qi-lang asked, looking around.
The old servant paused, glancing back at his young master.
“That’s her right there…” He pointed.
Wang Shi’qi-lang frowned as he looked.
“Where?” he asked.
“That one!” The old servant pointed again, watching as an attendant went forward with an ingratiating smile. “Look, Daquan’s gone to pay his respects.”
“You’re rather late,” Madam Qin remarked with a smile as Cheng Jiao-niang alighted from the carriage.
“Madam, you’re still unwell yet took the trouble to come…” the Wang family attendant fawned, bowing obsequiously.
Last time his attitude had been poor, and he’d been beaten for it. This time…
Seeing a maid raise her hand, the attendant turned his head—a crisp slap rang out.
The old servant instinctively shut his eyes and looked away.
How did he get hit again…?
“You wretch! How dare you speak to our madam like that!”
The maid wasn’t finished yet. Glaring, she barked orders for others to drive him off.
Not daring to delay, the old servant hurried over.
“Spreading ill omens about someone’s health—since when was that your family’s custom?” the maid continued to scold sharply.
Ill omens?
The old servant hastily bowed in apology, berating his own men to pull the attendant away.
Madam Qin, of course, wouldn’t deign to be angered by mere servants in person. She had already approached Cheng Jiao-niang and was speaking to her. At some remark, all the maids and attendants around them burst into laughter.
Only Cheng Jiao-niang’s expression remained unchanged.
“Oh dear, still not amused? I came all this way to see you off—at least give me a smile,” Madam Qin said, resting a hand on Cheng Jiao-niang’s shoulder with a chuckle.
Cheng Jiao-niang met her gaze.
“Liu Ling was known for his unrestrained drinking and eccentric behavior. Once, he stripped naked in his house, drawing criticism from others. Ling replied: ‘I take heaven and earth as my mansion, and my room as my trousers. Gentlemen, why are you entering my trousers?'” she suddenly recited.
The crowd froze momentarily. Madam Qin was the first to recover, bursting into laughter—the others soon followed as the meaning sank in, their mirth growing as they pondered the anecdote.
“You wicked child! You wicked child!” Madam Qin gasped between peals of laughter, her face flushed crimson as she clutched her stomach and leaned on her maid for support.
Cheng Jiao-niang offered a faint smile and a graceful curtsy in response.
Over there, the old servant pulled the attendant aside and interrogated him in a hushed tone.
“…I truly didn’t say anything wrong—just greeted Madam Zhou…” the attendant mumbled, covering his stinging cheek.
To be honest, the slap hadn’t even hurt much this time. But tears welled up in his eyes regardless.
A man doesn’t shed tears lightly—unless his heart is truly wounded.
Why did it seem like every time he opened his mouth, he ended up getting struck? This injustice was too much to bear!
“You mistook her for someone else. No wonder they hit you,” Wang Shi’qi-lang said with a yawn. Since it wasn’t Madam Zhou, he couldn’t be bothered to go over and pay his respects. “That wasn’t Madam Zhou.”
So it really wasn’t her?
Then who was she? Judging by her dignified bearing and the impressive entourage, she was clearly no ordinary noblewoman.
The old servant hastily turned to one of the Zhou family attendants for clarification.
“You lot don’t even recognize this lady?” The Zhou attendant lifted his chin, his flaring nostrils practically exuding disdain toward the Wang entourage. Though unspoken, the message rang clear as day in the Wang servants’ ears:
What a bunch of country bumpkins!
“Our stay in the capital has been brief. Please enlighten us,” the old servant replied with practiced courtesy.
“Look at the carriage,” the Zhou attendant sniffed, tilting his nose higher.
The Wang servants scrutinized the vehicle. It was certainly fine…
“That lotus pendant is the emblem of the Qin household from the Princess’s estate!” The Zhou attendant could no longer bear their provincial ignorance and spelled it out. “This is Madam Qin we’re speaking of.”
The Princess’s estate! The Qin family!
Though they hadn’t recognized the lady, this name they certainly knew. The Wang servants’ faces collectively drained of color.
No matter how influential the Zhou family might be, why would the mighty Qin household bother paying them respects?
Unless…
“That… that Madam Qin came to… to see off… Lady Cheng?” the old servant stammered.
The Zhou family attendant gave a derisive snort as he looked the old servant up and down.
“Don’t tell me you actually thought she came for you?” he shot back with mocking amusement.
Under Madam Qin’s watchful gaze, the procession on the main road gradually shrank to a mere speck in the distance.
“Madam, though we haven’t accompanied them for ten miles, this farewell is more than sufficient,” a maid remarked with a knowing smile.
Madam Qin nodded in agreement.
“Such an eccentric young lady—when you think about it, she’s truly fascinating,” she mused with a chuckle, turning her gaze toward the city gate not far away. “No wonder that foolish boy finds it so hard to let go.”
Following her line of sight, the maids also looked up. At the very top of the gate tower, a lone figure could faintly be seen standing.
How could she leave so resolutely?
How could there be not a trace of reluctance?
After all this time they’d spent together…
From ignoring shared cups, to facing mockery head-on, to collaborating openly and covertly…
In her eyes, had none of it made the slightest difference?
Qin Shi’san-lang gazed at the boundless horizon and let out a soft sigh.
Family background, character—nothing was different. It was all the same.
Why was there no distinction?
How could people possibly be alike?
Person and person…
Person…
Suddenly, Qin Shi’san-lang stepped forward, gripping the edge of the wall. Could it be that “person” didn’t refer to others, but to her?
How people saw her, how they treated her...
“If you knew my rules, would you still ask me to heal your leg?”
The young lady’s face surfaced in his mind.
Qin Shi’san-lang shook his head and smiled wryly. So then, what difference did it make? He was just the same as everyone else!
This Lady Cheng…
In truth, she wasn’t sharp-tongued and ruthless toward others—she was sharp-tongued and ruthless toward herself.
Qin Shi’san-lang made to turn and descend the tower, but in the end, he remained motionless, lifting his eyes once more to the endless sky.
A few crows cawed harshly as they flew past the eaves.
“Go away, go away!”
A child’s voice came from behind.
Duke Jin’an turned his head and saw the Second Prince being carefully supported up the steps by several eunuchs.
This part of the palace had long been abandoned, its gate tower overgrown with weeds.
“Good heavens, Your Highness! How can you sit there? Come down at once—what if you fall?” the eunuchs cried out in alarm when they spotted Duke Jin’an.
Duke Jin’an smiled faintly, swinging his legs lightly over the railing of the pavilion. He neither spoke nor moved back.
“Brother, why have you come here?” the Second Prince asked, shaking off the eunuchs’ restraining hands as he happily gathered his robes and ran over.
Duke Jin’an reached out, pulling him close, and—amid the eunuchs’ alarmed cries—lifted him to sit beside him on the ledge.
“Wow! You can see so far from here!” the Second Prince exclaimed, waving his arms excitedly without a trace of fear.
“Yes,” Duke Jin’an replied, his gaze fixed on the distance. “This is the farthest one can see from within the palace. When I was young, I often wanted to come, but no one would accompany me, and no one dared let me come. Now that I’m older, I can come alone.”
“What do you come here to see?” the Second Prince asked.
“Me?” Duke Jin’an smiled faintly, still looking into the distance. “I’m seeing off a friend.”
Seeing off a friend?
In this desolate, remote place, there were no living creatures apart from crows—were there?
The eunuchs couldn’t suppress a shiver, the daylight suddenly feeling unnaturally cold.
“Your Highness, Your Highness—come down at once!” Without another moment’s hesitation, they resolved to drag them away, no matter what.
Before they could approach, Duke Jin’an had already lifted the Second Prince up high.
The eunuchs covered their faces and shrieked—
Amid their screams, the duke turned and leapt down from the railing, landing steadily and setting the young boy safely on the ground.
“Again! Again!” the Second Prince cheered excitedly.
“Let’s fly one more time!”
The eunuchs rushed forward, scooping up the Second Prince and shooting Duke Jin’an reproachful glares.
Unbothered by their disrespect, the prince simply threw back his head and laughed.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” he said, striding away.
“Has she really left?”
In the Chen residence, Chen Shao sat casually cross-legged in his house robe, listening to his servant’s report.
“Would her departure be anything but genuine?” Old Master Chen shot him a glare. “That young lady probably doesn’t even understand the concept of playing hard to get. When she says something, she means it.”
Chen Shao acknowledged this with a smile.
“We invited Lady Cheng around this same time last year,” he remarked lightly. “Hard to believe it’s already been a year.”
Only as he said this did he realize—Lady Cheng had been in the capital for just one year.
Why did it feel so much longer?
Looking back, there hadn’t been a single peaceful moment since her arrival. He’d lost count of how many times she’d shocked him.
His gaze drifted to the folding screen behind his father, where a few faint marks now stood out conspicuously.
Lives…
Those were all lives that had fallen by that young girl’s hand.
And this girl had only just reached marriageable age this year.
Such lethality… Chen Shao privately admitted that the Qin family’s crippled son had been right—he had grown wary of her.
Hearing she’d truly left, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief.
Go back. As a woman, return home to marry in peace, tend to your husband and children. That’s the proper life for a woman…
The thought flashed through his mind before Chen Shao shook his head with a bitter smile.
To feel such wariness toward a mere girl… Should he call this prudence or cowardice?
“In the end, I lack magnanimity,” he said, self-mockingly.
