Her shoulders went stiff. How could he, with just one sentence, pierce straight into the fear at the very core of her heart?
So many years of silence, and yet now—after she had become the Marchioness of the Marquis household—they came knocking at her door. By now she had seen the warmth and coldness of the human world: that kin could strike the cruelest blow, while strangers could show unexpected generosity. The hardest thing to fathom in this world was the human heart. And she—she had always been unlucky. Those who treated her well, she could never hold on to; those who wished her harm, somehow always found their way back around her.
Xing Muzheng leaned close to her ear and said: “What are you afraid of? It’s they who should be afraid.”
Qian Jiaoniang raised her head, meeting his eyes in the dark.
“You have no need to fear anyone.”
“I’m afraid of you,” she blurted out.
I’ve given you my very life. Xing Muzheng swallowed down the bitterness and only said calmly: “You don’t need to fear me.”
Qian Jiaoniang let out a soft sound, almost like a laugh. “My lord, don’t take it seriously—I was only joking.”
***
The next morning, when Qian Jiaoniang woke and thought back on Xing Muzheng’s words, she suddenly felt clarity. It wasn’t really a matter of fear. Her second sister was, after all, her second sister. Whether they acknowledged each other or not, they were still siblings, bound by blood—something that could not be faked. If Second Sister truly had genuine feelings, then she herself was the one who profited greatly. If her sister had ulterior motives, then she could just treat it as ordinary and nothing more.
Having thought it through, Qian Jiaoniang sent Hongjuan to deliver a message to Li Qing’s wife. By seniority, she ought to go and pay a visit to her elder sister. When Hongjuan arrived, Qian Liniang was already at Li Qing’s wife’s house. At first, hearing that Jiaoniang was willing to see her, she leapt up in excitement. But when she learned Jiaoniang planned to go to the Sun household to meet her, she was so startled she waved her hands in protest, saying that now Jiaoniang was the Marchioness, how could she possibly lower herself to step into the Sun residence?
Hongjuan studied the woman, noticing her resemblance to her mistress. Hearing her words, she was convinced this must indeed be the lady’s second sister. She bowed and said with a smile: “In that case, my lady says, if it is convenient for elder sister, then tomorrow morning at the hour of chen, you may come to the Marquis residence instead. My lady will be waiting to receive you with honor.”
Sun Liniang instantly burst into tears, thanking Hongjuan over and over. She even tried to give Hongjuan twenty coppers from her pouch, but Hongjuan declined with a smile. She also asked Li Qing’s wife to accompany Liniang to the Marquis household the next day, then took her leave with composure.
The following morning, Qian Jiaoniang rose early—not because of Liniang, but because Xing Pingchun was preparing to go to Kun Mountain to once more seek out the reclusive master of mechanical arts and beg to become his disciple. Mr. Cao was accompanying him, treating it as a scholarly journey. After making all his preparations, Pingchun came to take his leave from Xing Muzheng and Qian Jiaoniang.
Xing Muzheng told him: “Listen well to everything Mr. Cao teaches you. Do not act willfully. In seeking a teacher, you must treat him with respect, and persist with determination.”
Xing Pingchun accepted respectfully.
Qian Jiaoniang said: “When it’s hot, take off your coat. When it’s cold, put on more. Don’t be naughty outside. You are sincerely going to seek a master—if you cannot find one, then don’t bother coming back.”
Xing Pingchun grinned, gave a deep bow, and answered loudly that he understood.
Xing Muzheng ordered the departure to be prepared, and Qian Jiaoniang quickly added: “Send us a letter every day. If you have more to say, write more; if less, then just two words—‘safe and well.’ Don’t get lazy.”
“I know! Father, mother, I’m off!” The boyish Xing Pingchun, eager to be on his way, could barely wait any longer. He bade farewell to his parents, grabbed Li Ding, and dashed out in a hurry.
Qian Jiaoniang chased him to the doorway. This was the first time her Chou’er was leaving her to travel so far alone, and she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Xing Muzheng came to her side and said: “Don’t worry. I had Wang Yong take a whole group of men with him—he won’t get lost.”
Qian Jiaoniang nodded. “Lost he won’t be. That child, when he needs to, is as clever as a monkey.” She stretched her neck to look out after him.
Breakfast was brought from the kitchen, set out in the main hall: buns, steamed rolls, congee, and the like. Qian Jiaoniang and Xing Muzheng sat to eat, and she mentioned casually that she would be seeing Qian Liniang later. Xing Muzheng only paused slightly, lifted his eyes to look at her, and she looked back at him. Slowly, he gave a quiet reply.
“I still need to go out and look at land today, so I won’t be able to stay home and accompany you to meet your sister.”
Jiaoniang’s heart stirred. “My lord, go about your duties. The people’s matters come first.” She paused. “There will be other chances to meet in the future.”
Xing Muzheng arched a brow slightly. So—she was pleased after all.
Before the chen hour arrived, Qian Liniang was already waiting at the side gate of the Dingxi Marquis’s residence, clutching Li Qing’s wife’s hand. Li Qing’s wife knew that Qian Jiaoniang wasn’t overly formal; since they were early, they could surely go in now. But Liniang wouldn’t allow it. She insisted on waiting until the exact beginning of the chen hour before solemnly knocking on the gate ring.
Qian Jiaoniang had already sent Hongjuan and Shanzha to wait inside the gate. They welcomed Qian Liniang and Li Qing’s wife and led them smoothly through to the rear courtyard.
Qian Jiaoniang was waiting in her own courtyard. She had been sitting in the hall reading, but her ears were pricked to every sound outside. The moment she heard the courtyard gate open and the maids’ voices drifting in, she threw aside her book, stood up quickly, and strode out. Yanluo, Suier, and the others hurried after her.
Qian Jiaoniang had just stepped off the steps when she saw Li Qing’s wife and Hongjuan and Shanzha escorting a woman toward her. The woman’s hair was done in a coiled cloud bun, adorned with a pair of golden filigree insect-shaped ornaments. Her face was painted with broken-pattern makeup, a crescent pasted on her forehead, with flowers affixed to either side of her cheeks. She wore a willow-green front-fastening jacket and a light blue water-silk skirt. Though far removed from the image she remembered, Qian Jiaoniang could still recognize from the brows and eyes that this was her own second elder sister, born of the same mother.
Her eyes instantly grew wet. So she had been yearning for her after all!
Qian Liniang, surrounded by maids and servants, had long since felt her heart beating into her throat. She lifted her eyes in confusion and saw a slender woman, eyes brimming with tears, reaching her hands out to her. Their features bore a resemblance, and she knew at once this must be her third younger sister, who by a twist of fate had become the Marquis’ wife. She quickly raised her hands to meet hers.
Qian Jiaoniang grasped Qian Liniang’s hands. Their eyes locked. Choked with sobs, Qian Jiaoniang called out, “Second Sister.” Tears streamed down Qian Liniang’s cheeks as she gave a heavy reply.
