At noon, Xing Muzheng returned with Xing Pingchun and met with Old Master Zhen and the others who had been waiting at Zhen Hao’s residence. After a few casual exchanges, Zhen Hao proposed a chrysanthemum banquet to welcome him. Xing Muzheng, intrigued by the unfamiliar name, asked, “What about the women?”
Zhen Hao paused. “Sister-in-law is dining in the rear courtyard with my mother and my wives and concubines. Would that be alright?”
Xing Muzheng replied, “Since it’s a family banquet, let the women join us at the main table.”
Since the Marquis had spoken, Zhen Hao couldn’t refuse. He quickly sent someone to fetch his wife and invite Qian Jiaoniang, while also hurrying to consult with his father and brothers. Old Master Zhen didn’t like how casual Xing Muzheng was being and told his sons to bring their own main wives as well. He himself considered calling his own wife but gave up after seeing Zhen Hao’s face darken—Madam Yu, Old Master Zhen’s wife, had once treated Zhen Hao and his mother harshly, and Zhen Hao had never liked her. Later, Old Master Zhen had raised Zhen Hao’s birth mother to the rank of equal wife, mostly to appease Zhen Hao.
This was Qian Jiaoniang’s first time attending an external banquet. She listened to Xing Pingchun chatter about the cannon-firing and let Qingya and the maids help her dress. Suier brought out a goose-yellow gown, but Qingya waved it off. “Too bright.”
“Too bright?” Qian Jiaoniang asked. “Aren’t we eating in the chrysanthemum garden? How can a dress be too bright?”
“In this weather, who’s eating in a garden? You’ll catch cold before you finish the soup. You’ll know what kind of banquet this is when you get there,” Qingya murmured as she rummaged through the wardrobe. “But usually this banquet is only for men. Why are women being invited this time?”
In the end, Qingya dressed Qian Jiaoniang in a red lychee-colored robe with embroidered trim, matched with a deep red pleated skirt with subtle flower patterns. Over it she wore a frost-colored overcoat with cloud patterns. Her hair was styled in a parted updo adorned with gold phoenix hairpins inlaid with gems, and she wore ruby earrings.
Xing Pingchun had also changed into new clothes. When he saw how beautiful his mother looked, his eyes went wide. “Mother, how did you become so pretty!”
The maids all laughed. Suier knelt to straighten his lapels and said, “Young Master, Madam has always been beautiful. She just usually dresses simply and doesn’t like to show off.”
Qian Jiaoniang looked at her own reflection—both familiar and unfamiliar—and chuckled softly. “Anyone would look beautiful in this outfit.”
Qingya pulled out a pair of twisted gold bracelets and disagreed, “Not true. They say even if you wear a dragon robe, it doesn’t make you a crown prince. If you can’t carry the look, it’s all wasted.” She then tried to put the bracelets on Qian Jiaoniang, who refused. “Where did you even get so much jewelry?”
“Of course from the Marquis’s treasury! Didn’t I say your clothes needed gold and jade to match their quality?”
Madam Liu and Madam Song came to escort her. Not wanting to keep the hosts waiting, Qian Jiaoniang quickly slipped on embroidered platform shoes and left the room, but not before reminding a maid to feed the one-eyed dog.
—
The male guests had already taken their seats in the Liuxian Hall. The proper wives of Zhen Hao’s brothers were also present—only the eldest sister-in-law was absent for some unknown reason. The hall was lavishly decorated with golden chrysanthemums, exuding an air of wealth and splendor.
Upon hearing that Dingxi Marchioness had arrived, Zhen Hao quickly stood along with his father, brothers, and their wives to greet her. Xing Muzheng had been seated at the head, playing with a jade cup. When he lifted his eyes and saw Qian Jiaoniang being supported inside by maids, his expression remained neutral—but his hand stopped moving.
He stared straight at her. When she came close to the steps, he suddenly stood, took three long strides down, and stopped right in front of her, staring at her again. His gaze was so intense that people started finding it odd, and even Qian Jiaoniang felt a little embarrassed. Only then did Xing Muzheng take her hand and lead her to sit beside him at the head table. The two chairs had been placed tightly together. Even after sitting, he didn’t let go of her hand. Her hand felt hot from his grip. Qian Jiaoniang discreetly tried to pull away. He looked at her again, his throat moved slightly as if to speak, but in the end, he said nothing—only tightened his grip before finally letting go.
Xing Pingchun sat just below Xing Muzheng, accompanied by Zhen Hao. The other members of the Zhen family were seated in the lower rows. Zhen Hao looked up with a smile and said, “When Sister-in-law entered just now, I truly thought a fairy had descended to the mortal realm. None of my wives and concubines can match even a tenth of Sister-in-law’s beauty. I really envy my sworn brother’s good fortune.”
What a sweet tongue—he said it as if he meant it. Qian Jiaoniang curved her lips in a smile, about to respond, when suddenly she heard a low “Mm” from beside her.
Qian Jiaoniang turned her head—what was he “Mm”ing about? How could she compare to Zhen Hao’s lovely wives and concubines? Men really would say anything to save face. Xing Muzheng lifted his eyes and looked back at her indifferently but said nothing more.
Zhen Hao had taken that “Mm” seriously and choked on his own saliva.
Eldest sister-in-law hadn’t arrived. Old Master Zhen explained she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be coming, and requested Xing Muzheng to begin the banquet. It was already past Qian Jiaoniang’s usual mealtime, so Xing Muzheng nodded his agreement. At the first toast, everyone raised their cups in salute to Xing Muzheng, but both he and Zhen Hao poured their wine onto the ground. The two brothers exchanged glances and bowed to each other—this seemed to be their shared ritual. Qian Jiaoniang looked sideways at them, vaguely sensing the cold sharpness in Xing Muzheng’s profile.
Zhen Hao clapped his hands twice, and the curtains to the hall were drawn back on both sides. A fragrant aroma filled the space as a troupe of household performers entered, each adorned with chrysanthemums. Their collars and dresses were embroidered with chrysanthemum motifs. Wine, dishes, and music followed in order as they sang “Ode to the Chrysanthemum.” Then, more than ten performers entered—those with white chrysanthemums wore purple, those with purple chrysanthemums wore goose yellow, and those with yellow chrysanthemums wore red. They danced gracefully, serving drinks as they came and went.
Qian Jiaoniang watched, dazzled and delighted, clapping in appreciation from time to time. But each time someone came to toast her, Xing Muzheng blocked it. By the third toast, Zhen Hao’s eldest sister-in-law finally arrived. The banquet was in full swing, but she only peeked in from the doorway, not daring to enter. Qian Jiaoniang saw her and nudged Xing Muzheng. He signaled for the music to pause and had her seated.
The banquet resumed, and dish after dish of Minghu specialties were brought out—visually appealing and aromatic. Qian Jiaoniang picked up one piece of meat—sweet. Another dish—sweet and sour. She wrinkled her lovely nose. Why was everything sweet? The flavor was strange and overwhelming—what a waste of good meat. She chewed twice and quietly set her chopsticks down.
After drinking two cups of wine, Xing Muzheng leaned over and whispered something to Zhen Hao, who looked slightly surprised. He glanced at Qian Jiaoniang, then summoned the steward, who quickly left the hall.
Soon after, a group of performers came in again and served two new dishes before Qian Jiaoniang: braised pigeon and five-spice fish. One was tender, the other spicy and crisp. Finally satisfied, she quickly ate more than half. She looked over at Xing Pingchun’s table—no such dishes there. The boy seemed to dislike the sweet dishes too, pitifully sipping tea. She thought to wave him over, but then called over Hongjuan instead, asking her to bring the pigeon to Pingchun.
Xing Pingchun’s eyes lit up at once. He grabbed a pigeon leg and started gnawing happily.
Qian Jiaoniang stifled a laugh and took another bite of fish. But suddenly, she paused. She looked at her table, then glanced sideways at Xing Muzheng’s table. Why were the special dishes sent only to her? Not even Xing Muzheng had them? She slowly looked away and ate another bite of the spicy fish.
The next few dishes were all to her taste. Xing Muzheng didn’t eat much but drank plenty.
When the dancers finally withdrew, two stunning beauties entered from either side of the hall, each carrying a pipa. With pointed faces, curved brows, and crimson lips, they seemed like celestial maidens from heaven or fairies from the immortal caves. They had the beauty to shame falling fish and flying swans, the grace to eclipse the moon and humble flowers. Magpies flew above them as if they were descending from the Jade Pool; rabbits ran alongside them like Chang’e departing the moon palace.
But looking at one and then the other, Qian Jiaoniang still thought they looked identical. Only when they stood side by side did she realize—they were twins.
The two of them seated themselves in the center of the Liu Xian Hall, exchanged a glance, and began playing and singing “Daughters’ Charm.” Their voices were as rich and round as pearls cascading onto a jade plate.
