Rose-red short jacket, parrot-green pleated skirt, hairpins adorned with grasshopper ornaments, and a jade girdle at the waist.
Cheng Danruo recognized her at once – it was Chen Rou-niang.
Chen Rou-niang was barely fourteen, though only a few months shy of her coming-of-age ceremony. In this dynasty, girls were typically betrothed in the year of their ji ceremony and married a year or two later.
On this rare fine spring day, the young maiden’s heart stirred with tender feelings – a chance encounter with a handsome, dashing young gentleman would be a fitting way to honor the beautiful season.
The moment Cheng Danruo spotted her, she thought to pretend she hadn’t seen her and take another path.
But at the same time, Chen Rou-niang had also caught sight of her. Flustered, she called out, “Cousin.”
Cheng Danruo’s eyelids twitched slightly. Her intuition told her something was amiss, and she couldn’t help but steal a glance to the side.
A sky-blue Daoist robe.
It looked familiar somehow.
Wait – wasn’t that Scholar Lu?
Her eyes glimmered with dawning understanding, and she smiled in reply. “Cousin.”
Chen Rou-niang gripped the tree trunk and managed a faint smile. “Come help me up – I just twisted my ankle.” With that, she extended her slender hand, as delicate and lovely as a blooming magnolia.
Cheng Danruo stepped forward and steadied her arm firmly. “Careful.”
“Thank you for your assistance, sir.” Chen Rou-niang gave a slight bow toward the young man in the sky-blue robe, then turned her face away with a shy, bashful air. “I shall return with my cousin now.”
Now that they were closer, Cheng Danruo took a careful look at him – her earlier assessment had been correct. This Scholar Lu had regular features, a refined and scholarly air, and an overall bookish temperament.
She replied politely, “Much obliged.”
“You ladies are too kind. It was merely a small effort on my part.” Scholar Lu gave Cheng Danruo a brief, casual glance without lingering, and stepped aside in proper courtesy.
Cheng Danruo put her arm around Chen Rou-niang. “Where is Aunt? I’ll take you back right away.”
“Mother is over there.” Chen Rou-niang pointed toward a decorative screen in the distance.
The two walked off slowly. Cheng Danruo could feel the tension in the girl beside her, but she kept her composure and asked with concern, “Does it hurt badly?”
“It’s just a twist – it hurts a little when I put weight on it.” Chen Rou-niang stole a sidelong glance, her mind drifting back to what her concubine mother had said the night before –
Chen Rou-niang’s birth mother, Lady Li, was originally the daughter of a peddler. But misfortune struck when her father fell and broke his leg, losing his livelihood; her younger brother came down with a fever, and her mother turned to a relative to sell her, hoping to exchange the money for medicine.
She was only six or seven then, and already had some charm about her. The matchmaker was a distant relative through many convoluted connections – greedy, to be sure, but still decent at heart, and sold her into the Huang household.
After various twists and turns, she became a maid to Lady Huang and followed her as a dowry attendant into the Chen family.
When Lady Huang became pregnant with the second young master and began selecting a bedchamber attendant for Master Chen, she chose Li. Lady Li had no objections – sooner or later a maid would be married off to a servant boy anyway; from then on, she would serve her husband, serve her mistress, bear children, and continue to toil for the Chen family like a beast of burden.
When it came to serving others, being a bedchamber attendant wasn’t a bad lot.
She was fortunate – after Lady Huang gave birth to the legitimate son, she relaxed her restrictions and allowed the concubines to conceive as well. Two years later, Lady Li fell pregnant and gave birth to Chen Rou-niang.
Lady Huang, seeing it was a daughter, did not make things difficult. She allowed Lady Li to raise the child herself, had her removed from the servant registry, and elevated her to the status of concubine – making her a commoner in the eyes of the law from then on.
Lady Li was deeply grateful and grew even more deferential toward her mistress. One year, when Lady Huang fell ill, Li personally tasted her medicine, attended her day and night without rest, and served with diligent devotion, never daring to slacken.
After Lady Huang recovered, she treated the mother and daughter even more kindly, and so they enjoyed a fair measure of standing within the household. Some time earlier, news that scholars frequently came and went from the residence had been leaked to Lady Li by the servants.
Lady Li had never studied books, but she had grown up listening to her peddler father tell stories of the world, and she understood things clearly in her own way.
She said to her daughter, “You were born from my womb, so your lot in life will be a bit harder – you can’t help but have to scheme a little. For a girl, birth is the first reincarnation, and marriage is the second. If you reincarnate well the second time, that matters even more than the first.”
At the time, Chen Rou-niang was still shy. “Why are you telling me all this, Mother? It’s all just a matter of our parents’ arrangement anyway.”
Lady Li jabbed a finger at her forehead, exasperated by her naivety. “Silly girl – Madam Chen isn’t your real mother. She’ll keep up appearances, but that’s about it. Do you really think she’ll find you a truly fine match? Let me tell you: when the master and madam arrange a marriage, they look at family standing and pedigree, not at the young man himself.”
Chen Rou-niang was still young and held romantic hopes for marriage. Hearing her birth mother speak so plainly made her uneasy. “Then what do you think I should do, Mother?”
Lady Li took her daughter’s hand and said earnestly, “In my view, noble houses are fine enough, but they’re full of rules. Rather than marrying into a family that looks splendid on the outside but is rotten within, it’s better to find a family of clean repute with a promising young man. Even if their status is lower, as long as he’s willing to work hard, the bond between you two will grow. And no matter what happens in the future, he’ll always respect you.”
Chen Rou-niang naturally believed her birth mother would never steer her wrong – but still, who wouldn’t rather marry into a wealthy, high-ranking family and enjoy a life of comfort than marry down and endure hardship?
A hint of reluctance showed on her face.
A mother knows her daughter best. Lady Li had only this one child and had always been attentive to her – how could she not see through her? She sighed softly. “You really are a silly girl. Fang-niang has only been married for a few years, and you’ve already forgotten her?”
Three years ago, when Master Chen was first appointed as Surveillance Vice Commissioner, he had been careless in his new post and incurred a grudge with the prefect. Fortunately, the Garrison Commander at the time wielded considerable influence – he was the younger brother of an earl in the capital, and everyone in the locality showed him face.
Through his mediation, the enmity was resolved, and Master Chen successfully completed his term of office.
To show gratitude to the Garrison Commander – and also to forge a connection with the earl’s household – Master Chen took it upon himself to marry off his eldest legitimate daughter, Chen Fang-niang, to the Garrison Commander’s son by a concubine.
The match wasn’t necessarily a bad one – Master Chen had gained a powerful in-law. However, Chen Fang-niang’s husband was a concubine-born son, whose birth mother was merely a bedchamber attendant, not even a concubine. His legitimate mother had her own legitimate sons and daughters, and life after marriage was very difficult for Fang-niang.
More importantly, the man was accomplished in neither letters nor martial arts, weak-willed and indecisive. He only helped manage some household affairs at home – at best, he would become a steward with a title in the future.
When Chen Fang-niang returned home to visit her family, her clothes and jewelry were new, but her face looked haggard.
Lady Li knew at a glance that she was not living well.
“My poor girl.” Her eyes reddened slightly. “Take your eldest sister’s marriage – it sounds splendid on the outside, but the bitterness behind it would take three days and three nights to pour out. We’d be better off taking a loss in appearances and gaining some real substance within.”
Chen Rou-niang had little experience of the world and was already swayed by her birth mother’s words. “But where – where can we find such a man?”
Lady Li whispered, “Lately, the master has been receiving many scholars. I hear there’s a young and promising juren – his family circumstances are modest, but he himself is exceptionally accomplished. Even if he doesn’t pass the jinshi examination in the future, he’ll have no trouble making a living.”
Chen Rou-niang twisted her handkerchief nervously. “Then, Mother… will you speak to Madam Chen?”
“I’ll put in a good word for you on the side. But you must also strive for yourself.” Lady Li hinted meaningfully.
Chen Rou-niang drew a sharp breath, her face paling with shock. “Mother, you’ve lost your senses! If the master and mistress found out, they’d beat me to death for sure.”
“What are you thinking?” Lady Li shot her daughter a look and said earnestly, “All you need is to let him see that you lack nothing – then his three parts of interest will become five, and the matter will be eighty percent settled.”
Men – they talk about “choosing a wife for virtue,” but who among them doesn’t prefer a beautiful one? Even for a legitimate wife, the difference between a loving match and a reluctant one is immense.
Her daughter was pretty enough, but her head was slow. Good things in this world are limited – if you don’t fight for them, others will snatch them away. Only the bad things will come knocking on your door on their own.
“Don’t forget,” Lady Li said, each word weighty, “that girl in Xuancao Hall is still half a year older than you.”
Where there is competition, there is a sense of urgency.
Chen Rou-niang thought for a long while, then said, “I’ll do as you say, Mother.”
Back to the present moment – Chen Rou-niang, facing Cheng Danruo, felt both awkward and secretly pleased.
Awkward because she had been caught doing something improper; secretly pleased because things had gone so smoothly. Scholar Lu was not bad-looking at all, and her three parts of interest had already grown to seven.
When she had called out to her cousin in a moment of panic, she had thought she might have startled the game. But now, reflecting on it, it seemed even Heaven was on her side.
Look at her cousin’s attire – plain and rustic enough as it was – and on top of that, she had somehow gotten mud and grass clippings all over herself. She looked truly disheveled.
What young gentleman would want to marry such an unkempt maiden?
Chen Rou-niang thought to herself: according to her mother’s reasoning, the matter should be eighty percent settled.
She felt a hint of pride, mingled with a touch of guilt, and took the initiative to be friendly toward Cheng Danruo. “Thank goodness you were here, Cousin. I really don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”
“We’re family – no need for such formality.” Cheng Danruo was unaware of Lady Li and her daughter’s scheming, but this didn’t even require deduction.
How could it be such a coincidence – twisting her ankle right in front of him?
But she had no intention of exposing her.
As she always reminded herself: women in ancient times had it too hard. Marriage was their second reincarnation – what was wrong with choosing someone they liked?
She played dumb, covered for Chen Rou-niang, and said nothing of the matter in front of Lady Huang.
“How could you be so careless?” Lady Huang chided mildly. “Where are your maids? Who was accompanying you?”
Chen Rou-niang quickly replied, “Please don’t be angry, Mother. I saw the apricot blossoms blooming so beautifully and wanted to pick a few branches to put in Grandmother’s vase. I sent Que’er to pick them, but I got lost in the view myself and stepped on a loose stone.”
In truth, Lady Huang had no intention of probing too deeply. Twisting one’s ankle while out on a spring outing was hardly a serious matter. Since the explanation was reasonable, she let it go lightly. “Don’t be so careless next time.”
She then drew Cheng Danruo to sit beside her and asked amiably, “I heard Madam Gu was in a fluster earlier, calling for help because Lan-niang had fallen – and you happened to come across her?”
Cheng Danruo replied, “Yes. I was enjoying the view at the back hill when I suddenly heard someone crying for help. I went over to have a look, and it turned out to be Fifth Miss Gu, who had accidentally slipped down a slope and injured her leg.”
Lady Huang’s eyes flickered slightly. “Oh? Was she alone?”
“Someone else arrived before I did. Shortly after I got there, Young Master Gu also came rushing over.” Cheng Danruo spoke not a word false.
Lady Huang pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Madam Gu told me she’ll be sure to thank you properly later.”
“It was merely a small effort – hardly worth thanks.” She was very modest.
Lady Huang smiled and said gently, “I know you’re a good girl.” Though Cheng Danruo was not a Chen by blood, she was staying with the Chen family – how could the connection be severed?
The goodwill was hers, but it was also the Chen family’s.
For the remainder of the hour or so, everyone passed the time quite peacefully.
Occasionally, families with whom they were on good terms would come over for a chat, and if the mood struck, they’d push their tables together and share lunch.
Though it was a picnic, it wasn’t all cold food. Apart from the wine and dishes brought in rosewood carrying cases, servants had carried portable stoves along, lit the charcoal early, and prepared steaming hot food.
Today was the third day of March – a day on which they must eat shepherd’s purse boiled with eggs.
Shepherd’s purse, red dates, eggs, and brown sugar – this was the essential dish of the day.
Lady Huang instructed Nanny Deng, “Take some of the boiled eggs and send them to the master.”
As for the so-called “winding stream for floating wine cups” – scholars like Master Chen would not spend their time like the womenfolk, sitting behind decorative screens and taking in a bit of scenery before calling it a day. They would have chosen a meandering stretch of stream early on, setting wine cups afloat on the water. Wherever a cup came to a stop, that person was required to compose a poem.
Of course, they could not produce anything to rival the Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Collection, but they certainly fancied themselves capable of capturing a measure of its true essence.
After the midday meal, the sun grew increasingly warm, and everyone gradually made their way home.
Thus passed the festival day meant for open, proper outings – but the aftereffects were only just beginning.
