The night wind slipped through the cracks of the window, making the lamp and curtains sway faintly.
Cheng Jiao-niang watched the flickering flame, smiled slightly, and shook her head.
“I didn’t even see who it was,” she said. “I just recognized the name.”
Recognized the name?
Ban Qin was surprised.
Cheng Jiao-niang adjusted her posture, sitting cross-legged. Yes, she recognized the name—so far, this was only the second name from her memory that she had heard in reality.
The first was Cheng Fang—herself.
“Then whose name is it?” Ban Qin asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang fell silent, her hands resting on her knees tightening slightly.
“I think… I’d like some water,” she said.
Was Miss nervous? Ban Qin grew even more surprised. She quickly bowed her head, murmured an assent, and stood up to fetch water.
Cheng Jiao-niang held the bowl and drank slowly, while Ban Qin knelt in silence, asking no further questions.
“Miss, would you like to read?” Ban Qin suddenly asked, as if struck by a thought.
Cheng Jiao-niang shook her head.
“I don’t know many characters, so I can’t read to you,” Ban Qin sighed. “If only Ban Qin were here, it would be better.”
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“Even if she were here, I wouldn’t let her read at night,” she replied.
Ban Qin thought for a moment, then suddenly clapped her hands in delight.
“Oh! I nearly forgot—do you think I should visit Ban Qin’s… I mean, Qing Mei’s parents?” she asked.
“Who is Qing Mei?” Cheng Jiao-niang inquired.
Ban Qin stared in surprise before covering her mouth with a giggle.
“Miss, do you truly never remember our names?”
“Names are just names. What matters most is the person behind them,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
A name is just a name. What matters is the person.
Now that this name had surfaced—what kind of person would bear it?
Cheng Jiao-niang’s voice abruptly cut off. If it’s true… If it’s really true…
Her upright posture slumped slightly. The water bowl trembled in her clenched hands, a few drops spilling over the edge.
“Miss, Miss!” Ban Qin cried out in alarm, scrambling to her feet. She reached out to pat and soothe Cheng Jiao-niang’s back, tears of guilt welling in her eyes.
I meant to change the subject—why did I circle back to it again? She inwardly cursed her own foolishness. If either of the other Ban Qins were here, they’d never have bungled it like this.
She took the water bowl from Cheng Jiao-niang’s hands—only to find she had to pry it loose with some effort. The realization sent fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
Not daring to speak another word, she simply kept her hand on Cheng Jiao-niang’s back, patting gently, rhythmically, as if the steady motion alone could mend what had been unsettled.
At the break of dawn, the streets of Jiang-zhou echoed with the sound of hurried footsteps.
“Nothing here… no one could hide in this spot…”
Murmured voices, mingled with the startled clucks of chickens, drifted through the alleyway.
“What are you doing? What’s all this?”
A woman’s sharp scolding rang out almost immediately. By the chicken coop outside her door, two ragged children turned tail and fled.
“Coming to steal chickens at the crack of dawn!” the woman scolded, brandishing her broom as she chased after them a few steps. When she saw the two children disappear around the corner, she turned back resentfully.
Surveying the chicken coop that had been turned upside down, she counted the hens and, finding none missing, sighed in relief. Urging her husband to move the coop into the courtyard, she casually reached for some straw from an abandoned hay basket nearby.
But instead of pulling out straw, she heard a voice.
“Good gracious, Mother of Heaven!” The woman stumbled backward and fell onto the ground as a young man crawled out of the basket.
“Ma’am, many thanks for your basket—it made a fine shelter,” the young man said cheerfully, offering a bow to the seated woman while shaking off a shower of straw from his head and clothes.
“Thief! Catch the thief!” the woman shrieked.
“Ma’am, you jest! How could someone like me look like a thief? I’m but a poor, homeless soul,” the young man exclaimed in mock surprise, stepping forward. “Ma’am, fate has brought us together. I see darkness upon your brow – a sure sign of impending bloodshed! Come, let me divine a solution for you. Just one copper coin…”
Before he could finish, the woman pointed at him sharply.
“Beat him!” she shouted.
As her hand moved, the young man instantly ducked, barely avoiding a wooden pole that whooshed over his head.
“Can’t we talk this through? Why resort to violence?” he cried out, eyeing the menacing group behind him – a man and three half-grown children brandishing brooms, clubs, and even a wooden stool.
“Beat the thief! Beat that thief!” the woman screamed as she scrambled up from the ground.
The commotion enlivened the entire alley, drawing neighbors out to watch the spectacle.
“I’m no thief! I’m no thief! Why won’t anyone listen?” the young man yelled, dodging the whistling wooden poles before slipping through the crowd with practiced ease.
“Don’t let me catch you around here again!” the husband roared, brandishing his club threateningly at the retreating figure.
“Beat that thieving scoundrel to death! First he tries to steal our chickens, then claims I’m doomed to bloodshed and offers to ‘save’ me! A thief and a swindler deserves no mercy—” The woman joined in, hopping madly as she shook her fist at the fleeing man.
Her tirade was abruptly cut short when her husband turned—just as his wildly swinging club struck her square in the face. With a howl of pain, she collapsed, hands clutching her injured cheek.
“You damned thief…!” she wailed.
The scene erupted into chaos—some rushed to help while others roared with laughter.
“Well, there’s your bloodshed disaster,” someone chuckled, watching blood trickle through the woman’s fingers as she clutched her nose.
Unaware of the commotion behind him, the young man nimbly navigated the labyrinth of narrow alleys with practiced ease. As he walked, he brushed off the straw clinging to his clothes and hair, smoothing his disheveled locks. He casually snapped off a twig from an overhanging tree branch—whoever’s yard it was—and used it to tie up his hair. After rubbing his face briskly, he emerged onto the street looking completely refreshed and presentable.
Stretching his arms with a few vigorous shakes, he took several deep breaths.
“Alright, time to get to work,” he declared, reaching into his robe to pull out a rolled-up patterned flag. But before he could unfurl it, he suddenly stuffed it back and ducked into the alley, pressing himself flat against the wall.
Two young men walked down the street, shaking their heads as they scanned their surroundings.
“…That rascal often swindles people on this very street…”
“…Let’s search carefully. Catching him will earn us good money…”
Their voices faded as they passed by.
The hidden young man didn’t peek out to look at them. Instead, he immediately pressed himself further against the wall, retreating several steps before crouching low in a doorway. Just as he slipped into hiding, the two men who had walked past suddenly backtracked, peering into the alleyway.
“Let’s go. He’s not here.”
“Search more carefully – he’s worth a fortune…”
After the two men had truly left this time, the young man emerged from the doorway, stroking his chin with a somewhat astonished expression.
“First,” he declared, raising one finger toward the street, “I’m not swindling people—I perform divinations, fortune-telling, and disaster relief.”
Then he extended a second finger.
“Second, it’s just one copper coin.” Waggling his fingers, he tsked and shook his head at the street. “Was all this fuss really necessary?”
Withdrawing his hands to rest on his hips, he frowned for a moment.
“Ah well, better lay low for a while,” he concluded.
At daybreak, First Master Cheng stepped through his estate gates. No sooner had he alighted from his carriage than another commotion arose behind him—a second carriage rolled in, bearing a travel-worn and exhausted Second Master Cheng, who leaned heavily on his servant as he disembarked.
“Why have you returned?” First Master Cheng asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“They said my wife’s taken ill,” Second Master Cheng replied.
First Master Cheng’s brow furrowed.
“If she’s sick, summon doctors and prepare medicine. This household has plenty of attendants—what good can you, no healer yourself, do by rushing back?” he admonished sternly. “You are an official, entrusted by His Majesty to shepherd the people. How can you abandon your duties for a woman’s whims and woes? Would that not make a mockery of governance?”
Second Master Cheng immediately straightened his posture and bowed his head deferentially.
“Indeed. I shall remember your teachings,” he replied.
First Master Cheng gave a terse nod, his expression severe.
“Go then. You must be weary,” he conceded.
With a murmured assent and a bow, Second Master Cheng hurried away.
“Since Second Madam is ill, why didn’t you go check on her?”
First Master Cheng strode into the main hall, his face still dark with displeasure, as he addressed his wife, First Madam Cheng, who had come forward to greet him.
“They even made Second Master rush back overnight—outsiders would think something terrible had happened!”
First Madam Cheng was both baffled and furious at his words.
For three days, she had been too anxious to eat or sleep properly, to the point of needing medicinal tonics. Finally, her husband had returned, only to immediately scold her—and about another man’s wife, no less.
“She’s sick? I’m the one dying here!” First Madam Cheng snapped. She flung the cloak she had just taken from him right back at his chest and stormed off.
First Master Cheng, already seething, only grew angrier. The room tensed instantly, maids holding their breaths in fearful silence.
“Master, I must speak for Madam’s grievance,” the chief maid knelt and said. “Second Madam never claimed to be ill. A doctor was summoned to the household—but for Madam’s ailment. Madam knew nothing of Second Madam’s affairs. Why, just yesterday, Second Madam went out shopping and returned with piles of new fabrics!”
First Master Cheng’s stern expression loosened slightly, seizing the offered pretext to step down from his anger.
“Then you ought to have reined her in at home. She’s no young bride—where does this petty willfulness come from?” he grumbled.
Across the room, First Madam Cheng remained with her back turned, silent.
The master cleared his throat.
“What did the doctor diagnose?”
At once, the maid waved a hand, prompting all attendants to bow and retreat. The doors slid shut—and soon, muffled sobs escaped from within. Outside, the servants hastily withdrew further down the corridor, giving wide berth to the private storm.
“Wasn’t everything fine? Why must this turmoil arise again?” First Master Cheng said helplessly, offering his wife a handkerchief.
First Madam Cheng snatched it to dab her tears.
“Fine? What’s fine about it?” she choked out. “You know perfectly well what that couple schemes in their hearts. There’s never been peace—they watch our every move like starving dogs eyeing flesh, just waiting to sink their teeth in. Now that fool has returned, and they’ve seized the chance to turn this household upside down!”
That fool again.
First Master Cheng had, of course, heard of the fool’s return—but dismissed it as inconsequential.
“What can that fool possibly do? Even if they indulge her, what trouble could she stir up? Don’t overthink it. The marriage arrangement is settled—just hurry the wedding along and send her off,” First Master Cheng said.
At the mention of the girl, First Madam Cheng abruptly stopped crying.
“Master, something truly strange happened,” she said. “Yesterday, an envoy from the capital came to propose a match for that Cheng Jiao-niang—and brought betrothal resumes from several prominent families.”
First Master Cheng snorted.
“Just the Zhou family’s tricks. What decent match could they possibly secure?” he said dismissively, lifting his teacup for a sip.
“The envoy came from the Qin family of the Princess’s estate,” First Madam Cheng said.
The Qin family of the Princess’s estate?!
First Master Cheng sprayed out his tea.
Now that was a prestigious match!
