“Mother!”
Cheng Qi-niang came out of the house, looking aggrieved as she glanced at Second Madam Cheng, who had just driven away the maid sent by Second Master.
“The bugs keep biting me—I can’t sleep…”
Seeing how her daughter, once as delicate as carved jade, had in just a few days turned sallow and thin like a little village girl, Second Madam Cheng’s heart ached.
Not to mention her daughter’s sleepless nights—how well had she herself slept?
Her gaze fell on the room across the way, its door half-open. The maid had just tidied it, and seemed to have gone to heat the iron to warm the bedding.
“Since your sister isn’t home anyway, why don’t you lie down in her room for now?” she suggested.
But Cheng Qi-niang pulled a face, showing her distaste.
“I don’t want to go into that fool’s room!” she said.
“Don’t keep calling her a fool!” Second Madam Cheng scolded softly. “Whether we can turn our fortunes around depends entirely on her.”
With that, she took Cheng Qi-niang by the hand and led her forward. Pushing open the other half of the door, a gentle warmth and a faint fragrance drifted out to meet them.
Second Madam Cheng froze for a moment.
“Qingtai incense!” she blurted out.
It was said to be the finest incense in the realm. Their household had once purchased it for a time, but later First Madam Cheng had dismissed it as extravagant and wasteful, replacing it with something else. The substitutes were good as well, yet Second Madam Cheng had never felt quite satisfied.
Once you’ve used the best, who wants to settle for less?
She hadn’t expected that this child would be using it.
Cheng Qi-niang, however, knew nothing of such things. All she knew was that she had been nearly choked to death by smoke and stench these past few days, and here, the fragrance brought her relief. Without the slightest hesitation, she stepped inside.
“Mother, I want to sleep here!” she declared at once.
Second Madam Cheng gave her daughter a light pat, said nothing, and stepped inside as well, her eyes widening with surprise as she looked around the room.
It wasn’t much larger than the one they lived in, but bamboo mats covered the walls, and the grass matting on the floor was soft underfoot. The more she looked, the more astonished her expression became.
“This… this is a painting by Master Wushan…” she murmured, unable to stop herself. Gazing at the folding screen, she even reached out to touch it. “…Such workmanship…”
“Mother, Mother, look at this lamp—it’s so pretty! There’s even a painting on it…” Cheng Qi-niang exclaimed, kneeling on the floor before a lamp stand.
A pale white paper lantern rested quietly on the carved table. Upon it, simple brushstrokes outlined a half-open lotus blossom.
“…Mogan…” she read aloud, pointing to the signature at the bottom.
Second Madam Cheng drew in another sharp breath. Kneeling beside her, she picked up the lantern in disbelief, her eyes widening.
“This is from the Mo family of Yan-zhou!” she said. “A household that supplies tribute goods…”
“Didn’t Grandfather have one too?” Cheng Qi-niang suddenly remembered where she had seen it before and curled her lips.
“Your grandfather treated his as a treasure. He wouldn’t even take it out to look at, let alone actually use it,” Second Madam Cheng said, turning the lantern over in her hands.
And yet here it was, being used so casually…
Such waste…
With a clatter, Cheng Qi-niang pulled open the drawers of a low-legged cabinet on the other side and gave a little cry of surprise.
“Mother, this table looks just like a backgammon board…” she laughed.
While the mother and daughter were still looking, footsteps sounded outside the door.
“What are you doing in here?” Ban Qin called out in astonishment.
Second Madam Cheng quickly, and a little awkwardly, set down the lamp in her hands, while Cheng Qi-niang pouted and shoved the drawer shut with a loud bang.
“We were just seeing if there was anything we could help with,” Second Madam Cheng said.
“Out, out at once,” Ban Qin ordered.
That look of disdain on her face—Second Madam Cheng had seen it before. It was the same expression her own maids wore when they drove off lowly maids who had strayed into the wrong room.
“What are you shouting for? You’re nothing but a servant!”
Cheng Qi-niang burst out. Though still a child, children were often the most perceptive. After all that had happened in recent days, once she sensed the maid’s undisguised disdain, she could no longer hold back.
“I’m not leaving! I’m going to sleep here!”
Second Madam Cheng, of course, could not be as brazen as her daughter. She forced a smile and laughed twice.
“Ban Qin, look—since Jiao-niang isn’t at home, why not let Qi-niang sleep here for a while? We won’t use the couch-bed; we’ll just sleep on the mat over here.”
“How could that be, Second Madam?” Ban Qin protested anxiously. “My mistress dislikes others being in her room. Even I rarely sleep here at night.”
“And what are you supposed to be?” Cheng Qi-niang snorted. “You’re only a servant!”
Ban Qin’s face flushed scarlet. When it came to sharp words, she was no match for Qing Mei who served Old Master Zhang, nor for Su Xin from the Zhang household.
Seeing the maid so flustered, Second Madam Cheng chuckled to herself.
“Ban Qin, Qi-niang is her younger sister, and still just a child. Let her sleep here for now. I don’t think Jiao-niang would mind if she were home,” she said with a pleasant smile.
Ban Qin bit her lip, looked at the mother and daughter inside the room for a long moment, then stomped her foot and turned to leave without a word.
Cheng Qi-niang spat toward her retreating back.
“Little wretch! How dare you put on airs in front of me! If I slapped you again, you’d be bawling!” she snapped. Then she flopped onto the mat with a thud, stretched out her arms and legs, and let out a long, contented sigh. “Now this is how people are meant to live.”
Second Madam Cheng laughed, reached out to smooth her daughter’s hair, and continued to take in the room around them.
On closer inspection, the furnishings, though simple in appearance, were all of the finest quality. So the Zhou family truly was this wealthy—and to think they were so generous with this girl…
“In a little while, we’ll heat some water for you to wash up, and then you can sleep,” she said softly, lowering her head to speak to Cheng Qi-niang.
Before the words had even left her mouth, the sound of hurried footsteps came from outside. Ban Qin had returned—this time with Steward Cao and several attendants in tow.
“You’ve come just in time, fetch me some things from the house—” Second Madam Cheng began, looking at them.
But she was cut off by Ban Qin.
“Throw them out!” she ordered, pointing straight at them.
What?
Second Madam Cheng hadn’t yet recovered from her shock when the attendants strode in and, without a word, reached out their hands.
“What are you doing! Ah! Let go of me! Outrageous—this is outrageous!”
Screams and angry shouts echoed through the courtyard.
Yet the noise drew no onlookers. The children outside, who seemed to be playing but were in fact keeping wary watch, only turned their heads at the commotion before ignoring it altogether.
Second Madam Cheng stumbled and was shoved out the door. Cheng Qi-niang tumbled after her, falling hard to the ground. Frightened, furious, and humiliated all at once, she burst into loud sobs, and Second Madam Cheng, unable to help herself, gathered her into her arms and wept as well.
“Where are you hurt? Where does it hurt?” she asked over and over, then glared hatefully back. “How could you treat us like this?”
Ban Qin looked at them, her face still flushed. Without a word, she slammed the door shut.
If she couldn’t speak, then so be it—she would just do the work she ought to do.
“Wait, wait!” Second Madam Cheng cried out in alarm. She scrambled up and lunged forward. “You can’t drive us out! It was your mistress who caused us to be barred from our own home—how can you throw us out? Where are we supposed to go?”
“What do you mean, our mistress caused it?” Steward Cao frowned, his tone cool and detached. “It wasn’t our mistress who drove you from your home.”
“If she hadn’t made us testify, would I be in this state today?” Second Madam Cheng retorted angrily.
“If my lady told you to die, would you die?” Steward Cao sneered. “In the end, if you didn’t want to, who could force you?”
“It was you who forced me!” Second Madam Cheng shouted in fury.
“How did we force you?” Steward Cao asked with a laugh.
—If she didn’t testify, she wouldn’t marry…
Steward Cao only laughed harder.
“Second Madam, what does my lady’s marriage have to do with you? Did it block some benefit of yours? Otherwise, why are you in such a panic?” He shook his head. “In the end, the only one who forced you was yourself.”
Sharp-tongued and unreasonable—no wonder he’d driven First Master to faint in court!
Second Madam Cheng bit her lip and made to lunge forward, but Steward Cao’s face darkened.
“Second Madam, did you really think only First Madam dared to strike you?” he said coldly.
Second Madam Cheng blanched and froze. She looked at Cheng Qi-niang sobbing beside her, then at the gazes of the South Cheng townsfolk around them…
“You—you wouldn’t dare!” she stammered.
Steward Cao said nothing. He simply lifted his foot and took a step toward her.
With a scream, Second Madam Cheng grabbed Qi-niang and fled.
Watching the staggering figures of mother and daughter retreating, Steward Cao clapped his hands.
“Come on, let’s go—we’ve still got work to do,” he said.
Second Madam Cheng, still holding the crying Cheng Qi-niang, hesitated a few times at the corner gate before finally stopping and calling loudly.
“Second Madam…” The maid who opened the door looked surprised as she spoke.
Second Madam Cheng raised her sleeve to cover her face and ignored them, plunging straight inside. The maids didn’t actually try to stop her—they just watched as she made her way in.
Second Madam Cheng stepped into the courtyard, where the maids were entertaining her son. At the sight of her, their expressions froze in astonishment—partly joy, partly awkwardness, unsure if they should really be happy.
Hearing the commotion, Second Master Cheng came out as well. Seeing Second Madam Cheng’s face set in determination, he said sternly,
“You’ve come back…”
Before he could finish, a maid in the room had a sudden idea. She pinched Second Madam’s son sharply on the bottom.
Instantly, the child let out a heart-wrenching wail.
Overjoyed, Second Madam Cheng covered her face and shouted “My son!” before rushing over, wailing loudly.
The maids quickly joined in the crying, saying things like, “Madam, you’ve finally come back! Xi Ge’er hasn’t been eating properly—look how much he’s been missing his mother…”
“I’ll just take one more look at Xi Ge’er, then I’ll go. You… take good care of him,” Second Madam Cheng cried, holding the child while secretly giving him a gentle pinch.
Xi Ge’er’s cries grew even more painful. Second Madam Cheng pretended to let go, but the maids knelt and blocked her, weeping.
Second Master Cheng stood to the side, distressed and flustered by the crying, letting out a heavy sigh.
“Enough. It’s come to this—do we really have to make things so unbearable for everyone?” he said.
Second Madam Cheng, her heart finally settling, wept with joy as she held Xi Ge’er.
After a long while, the courtyard finally quieted. It took a full hour of washing before Second Madam Cheng felt somewhat human again. She changed into clean, warm clothes, sat inside, accepted a hand warmer, took her tea, and let out a contented sigh.
“You’re going to apologize and admit your mistake to Brother and Sister-in-law,” Second Master Cheng said sternly, his face drawn.
“Why should I apologize? It’s not even our fault,” Second Madam Cheng replied.
Second Master Cheng jumped up in anger.
“You still say it’s not your fault! If it weren’t for your idea, how would we have testified against my brother?” he shouted.
Second Madam Cheng looked at him calmly, without haste.
“Well, if he hadn’t seized Jiao-niang’s dowry and thrown her out, she wouldn’t have reported him in the first place,” she said. “Clearly, he was wrong first. And now we’re being blamed? How does that make sense?”
Is that so?
Second Master Cheng froze, stunned.
“As the saying goes, even a cornered rabbit will bite. That couple seized Jiao-niang’s dowry and lived comfortably for themselves, yet they forced her into this situation. They never felt grateful to us while enjoying their ease, and now that they’ve suffered, they blame us? They don’t stop to think—what business of ours was it from the start?” Second Madam Cheng sighed. “If there’s any fault, it’s that you are the father of that fool, and I am her stepmother in name only.”
Second Master Cheng slowly sat down, holding his teacup, looking thoughtful.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Second Madam Cheng’s lips. She sipped her tea, gazing around the room. She had always thought her own room was well-arranged, but now, no matter how she looked at it, it felt awkward. Her mind kept drifting to Cheng Jiao-niang’s simple, modest little room.
“I’ll tell you—do you know what was in Jiao-niang’s room?” She set down her teacup, moved closer to Second Master Cheng, and raised an eyebrow.
…
While the couple whispered and discussed among themselves, Cheng Jiao-niang and the others had already left Deer Horn Mountain and entered a town.
The snow had stopped, and the accumulated snow on the roads had mostly been cleared. The streets were growing busier with pedestrians.
“Look at this, my lady—it’s really well made,” said one of the two women as they turned from a lantern shop, holding up a rotating horse lantern with smiles.
Cheng Jiao-niang, walking on foot rather than in a carriage, gave a slight smile and nodded beneath her hood.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
Immediately, a servant stepped forward to pay. The two women, unsure how to react, could only smile awkwardly as they put the lantern away in the carriage behind them. The carriage was already piled high with nearly half a load of goods—food, drink, toys, and everyday items alike.
“Next time, don’t go praising everything at random! You say it’s good, and then she buys it—how can anyone endure being treated this way?” Xi-niang scolded.
“But if we don’t praise things, she looks so silly, and Miss says we haven’t been shopping properly…” San-niang said, frowning in worry.
“Ladies, we’d better hurry along,” called one of the attendants from ahead.
The two women quickly responded and, while urging each other to keep up, fell into step behind.
Cheng Jiao-niang was standing in front of a calligraphy and painting stall. The stall owner was an elderly scholar, dressed in a worn blue robe, hands tucked inside as he paced back and forth to keep warm. Seeing Cheng Jiao-niang and the others pause, he hurriedly greeted them with enthusiasm.
Cheng Jiao-niang examined the works one by one. The two women didn’t understand much, but felt an instinctive reverence and admiration for the characters, paintings, and the learned scholar.
“Miss, are these paintings good?” they asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled slightly.
“No,” she said.
The old scholar forced a wry smile.
“You’re very blunt, my lady,” he said.
“Being polite—what good does that do for you?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
The scholar froze for a moment.
“At least it pleases the heart,” he replied.
“So your reason for setting up this stall is just to please the heart?” Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
Impossible! He’s here, cold and hungry, just to hear flattering words!
The scholar’s face flushed red. He wanted to speak, yet didn’t know what to say. After a moment of holding it in, he laughed to himself.
“Yes… you are right,” he said with a wry smile, bowing politely to Cheng Jiao-niang.
“But the calligraphy isn’t bad—you two, San-niang, take some back for the children to look at,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
The old scholar immediately beamed, his face blossoming with joy. Watching the two women wave their hands in polite refusal, he quickly pushed the scrolls toward them.
“Go on, go on—these are good enough for teaching the basics,” he said.
The two women hesitated, glancing over to see Cheng Jiao-niang examining the hanging calligraphy and paintings with evident interest.
“Don’t spoil the mood,” one of them whispered.
So the other no longer held back, and the two of them, heads bent together, really did begin to pick and choose while chatting and laughing quietly.
“My lady, if you want not just the pleasure of the heart, you also need the means,” the old scholar said, hands tucked in his sleeves, hesitating for a moment before speaking to Cheng Jiao-niang. “To truly advance in what you do, you must first stand on your own. Though I sell calligraphy and paintings, I don’t sell them for the sake of selling alone.”
It was both true and not true—his words were roundabout and tricky.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and gave a faint smile.
“You’re right,” she said.
No sooner had she spoken than shouts rang out from somewhere nearby.
“Fortune-telling! Fortune-telling! Avoid misfortune and seek good luck—one divination for just one coin!”
The voice was hoarse, punctuated by occasional coughs.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s expression flickered with surprise.
The old scholar chuckled and, lifting a scroll, gestured toward the back.
“Just like this fortune-teller—he’s not really doing it solely for fortune-telling…”
As the scroll lifted, through the bamboo frame she could see a young man standing under a tree, arms crossed. In front of him was a low table, and beside it a flag fluttered in the wind.
An ironclad prediction.
“Cheng Ping.”
The young man, shivering and stamping his feet to keep warm while shouting to attract attention, suddenly heard someone call his name. He let out a small “ah” and instinctively looked up.
The bamboo-frame holding the scrolls and paintings was lifted. A strikingly beautiful young lady was looking at him. Before he could even admire her beauty, she reached out with a swift motion and tore the bamboo frame apart. Amid the old scholar’s startled cries and the scattering of paintings, she strode toward him with bold, decisive steps.
Wow… what a fierce… female warrior!
Cheng Ping instinctively recoiled in fright.
