Just past the Chuihua Gate, flower curtains and a sedan chair awaited. The gold-threaded curtains were hung with pearl-like white beads as big as beans, gently swaying in the breeze, both beautiful and pleasant to hear. To Qian Jiaoniang, it looked like heaps of silver.
This was Di Qingya’s transportation within the mansion. Hang Zhi would never have male servants carry the sedan chair; he selected about a dozen strong women specifically to carry it for Qingya.
A line of servants knelt on both sides—apparently outside the main gate no one could kneel any longer. No wonder Qingya complained that fifty servants in the Marquis’s mansion were too few. It turned out she really oversaw hundreds, even thousands, of people.
“We’re home, Ya’er.” Hang Zhi smiled as always—gentle and tender—but the white hair added a look of weariness. “Home.”
Wetnurse Liu nearby couldn’t help but wipe tears on her handkerchief. These years the young master had suffered much, but this old lady disliked him—this was a knot that would never untie!
Hang Zhi asked Qingya to ride the sedan chair, but Qingya shook her head, “I’ll walk a few steps.” Now that she had tasted hardship and imagined the women carrying her sedan chair might be people like Jiaoniang, she couldn’t bear it.
Hang Zhi was taken aback but said nothing, only smiled gently, “Alright.”
Hang Yuan, Hang Mo, and several other Hang family young masters hurried over, all staring at Qingya in disbelief. Hang Yuan was suspicious—even seeing an exact double, he refused to believe it and secretly suspected it was someone impersonating to trick Hang Zhi.
“Sixth Aunt, you’re alive again!” Hang Mo lost his usual mature demeanor, his eyes wide with amazement.
Qingya said, “I’m not alive; I’m a ghost who changed.”
Hang Mo believed Qingya was dead without question. Hearing this, he was even more amazed and reached to touch her hand. Ghosts’ hands were always cold. But before he could touch, his hand was struck down halfway. Hang Mo looked up and met Hang Zhi’s fierce eyes that plainly said four words: What manners!
Tsk tsk tsk, it had been so long since Hang Mo saw Sixth Uncle act this way, he nearly forgot. Sixth Aunt was like a precious treasure locked away by Sixth Uncle—untouchable and unassailable. But Granny had clearly said Sixth Aunt was dead; how was she alive again? Could Sixth Aunt be a demon or a deity?
Hang Yuan pulled Hang Zhi aside to whisper. Hang Zhi’s expression darkened. He turned to his elder brother grimly, then flicked his sleeve and returned to Qingya’s side, asking Duanfang, “Have you informed the old master and old madam? Where are they now?”
“The old master went to find friends to play chess. The old madam took the ladies to Wuling Temple today to pray for your lordship’s blessing and has not returned. I’ve already sent people to inform them.”
Hearing Mother Hang’s name made the hairs on Qingya’s back stand on end.
Hang Zhi nodded, then said to Hang Yuan, “Mo Da, arrange to tell all our relatives in Yongan City about this great joy. In a few days, I will officially send invitations for a reunion. Third brother, send invitations to nearby relatives first since those from other provinces take longer. I’ll write personally to the old home.” The more Hang Zhi spoke, the bigger his smile grew.
Hang Mo said, “Sixth Uncle, New Year’s is almost here. Relatives from other provinces coming and going…”
Hang Zhi interrupted, “Such a great celebration must be grand. Consider today as New Year’s and let them all celebrate here together. Everyone will have fun!”
Oh wow, Sixth Uncle even remembered the word ‘fun.’ Since Sixth Aunt died, every New Year he had complained about noise and always went off alone to a temple. Now he knew how to enjoy the noise! Hang Mo clicked his tongue in amazement, wondering if Sixth Uncle had really turned back into the easygoing man he once was.
“No need to invite anyone.” Qingya said.
Hang Zhi was slightly surprised but acquiesced, “Ya’er doesn’t like noise? Then no invitations.” He gazed at her, full of joyous smiles. “Father will be back soon. Mother and the others went to pray and should return in an hour or two. You must be tired. How about I accompany you back to rest and arrange accommodations for the Marquis’s lady?”
Qingya looked at Qian Jiaoniang and nodded slightly.
Hang Yuan and Hang Mo had never met Qian Jiaoniang before. Introduced by Hang Zhi, they learned she was the wife of Dingxi Marquis. The two brothers were surprised. Everyone knew Dingxi Marquis had angered the emperor for some reason and had been under house arrest in the palace for three days; no one dared get close. How come Hang Zhi brought her back? Could Qingya’s return be related to Dingxi Marquis?
Hang Zhi personally led the way. Qingya linked arms with Qian Jiaoniang, walking slowly forward. The red carpet stretched all the way to the Jiuwan Garden where Qingya used to live. Recently interested in literacy, Qian Jiaoniang tried to recognize characters. She didn’t know the character for “wan”, but Qingya explained it was another name for orchids. Inside the courtyard, willows drooped for winter, a clear pond dotted with floating duckweed added color, and a few koi lazily flicked their tails. Suddenly, one fish leapt out of the pond. Hang Zhi laughed, “The fish also knows their master is back.”
Qingya met Hang Zhi’s satisfied, smiling eyes and felt a sting in her heart. She lowered her gaze to avoid his look.
They bypassed the large outer courtyard to a smaller one inside, where strange rocks and orchids complemented each other, adding elegance. Over thirty girls and elderly women had been waiting quietly in the courtyard. Qingya looked closely but recognized no one. Thinking of the past laughter and joy here, she suddenly stopped in place. Hang Zhi understood her thoughts and gently said, “Since learning of your death, I have been unable to eat or sleep day and night. Mother feared I’d be brokenhearted, so she sent all the old servants in your courtyard away. If you want them, I will find them for you.”
Qingya shook her head, tears streaming down. Hang Zhi panicked and, ignoring the others present, softly coaxed her. But the more he coaxed, the harder Qingya cried. Qian Jiaoniang was quite impressed—after so long, Hang Zhi’s coaxing was still never the same twice.
Finally, Qingya stopped crying and went inside with Qian Jiaoniang. The interior was clean and tidy, not at all like a long-abandoned home. Qingya glanced around, eyes red, and said to Hang Zhi, “Who lives here now? If someone lives here, I won’t stay.”
Hang Zhi didn’t know what his little wife was thinking. Feeling both heartbroken and amused, he said, “How could I let others live in your courtyard? It’s just cleaned every day, and I often… come here myself.”
Qingya softly answered and led Qian Jiaoniang further inside. Hang Zhi wanted to follow, but Qingya said, “You wait outside. Jiaoniang and I will change clothes.”
Hang Zhi gritted his teeth. Shouldn’t he have first taken Madam Xing to her guest room? Then he could have helped his beloved wife change. Now he could only smile forcibly and said, “I’ll have new clothes sent to you right away.” Poor Ya’er, with such delicate skin, was still wearing such coarse cloth. Earlier when he held her hand, it felt rougher; she looked even thinner. This treasure must have suffered terribly outside. Hang Zhi turned quickly and summoned people to instruct them to make new clothes for Qingya immediately, prepare rouge, call two famous doctors to watch over her, and have the kitchen prepare nourishing meals, including her favorite pigeon soup… The more Hang Zhi ordered, the more important everything seemed. The steward listened, overwhelmed and unable to say a word.
Qingya entered her room with Qian Jiaoniang and looked around in astonishment. Every table and item in the room was exactly as it had been when she left. Was Hang Zhi still living in the past?
“The last time I heard from the Crown Princess that you were living like a fairy, I thought your room would be full of treasures,” Qian Jiaoniang said as she looked around. She had imagined gold, silver, jade, pearls, and colored glass everywhere, but the simplicity here was almost unbefitting a lady’s chamber: only a painting on the wall, beneath it a precious vase, and on the writing desk a row of brushes and an inkstone. The small Eight-Treasure Cabinet held a blue kiln bowl, a golden-threaded crown, and a white jade pendant.
Qingya came back to herself and smiled bitterly, “The treasures are real, though. Any one of these things, if taken out, you wouldn’t find in the palace.”
Qingya collapsed onto the imperial concubine’s couch. She had just cried her heart out and was truly exhausted. The couch still held the fragrance she had prepared for Hang Zhi, unchanged. Since moving in, Hang Zhi had never once slept in his own room; too many memories of them both lived here.
A group of maidservants came in carrying clothes to help Qingya and Qian Jiaoniang change. Qingya told them to put the clothes down and then waved them away. She then buried herself in the pillows.
Seeing her so listless, Qian Jiaoniang went over and nudged her, “There’s no time to play dead now. Your wicked mother-in-law is coming back. What do you plan to do?”
Qingya replied gloomily, “Report her to the officials.”
Qian Jiaoniang raised an eyebrow. “You think the magistrate will take on a matter this big? It probably needs the prime minister’s attention. Wait—he is your husband, your mother-in-law’s son, right? You plan to tell the prime minister?”
Qingya suddenly sat up.
Qian Jiaoniang said, “Honestly, that’s the only way left. That old lady and daughter-in-law—he has to choose one. But even if he believes you, it depends on how he handles it—if he just pays it lip service, you’ll still be dead in the end; if he doesn’t believe you, don’t say much more. Every day you stay here is another day of risk. While I’m still the Marquis’s wife, we should be tough and get out clean, never to have anything to do with that family again.”
Qingya was silent for a long moment, tears welling in her eyes.
“But if he finds out, how hurt will he be?” she whispered.
Qian Jiaoniang sighed and poked her forehead with a finger, “You’re pathetic, still caring about the prime minister after all this time!”
