Qing Lan was brimming with enthusiasm as she pulled Wu Mama into discussions about the poetry club, then sent Chun Ling to seek advice from Lin Dongqi. Only when they began drafting the guidelines did she realize how trivial and complicated every detail was. The first dilemma was deciding whom to invite. Lin Dongqi was a young lady, so she could simply invite other ladies and misses from respectable families. But Qing Lan was a concubine—if she didn’t invite other favored concubines, she would appear tactless and risk being ostracized in official circles later. Yet if she did invite them, she feared upsetting the legitimate wives. Just finalizing the guest list became an endless debate. Then there were the fruit and dish assortments, budgeting, purchasing, and even selecting topics for the poetry club—each task more tedious than the last.
Coming from a modest background, Qing Lan had never been taught such things. She lacked experience in social interactions and formal hosting, and having never handled such matters before, she quickly grew irritated listening to Wu Mama and Chun Ling’s back-and-forth suggestions. She had no patience for this, but since she had already announced the event, she had to push through. At first, she tried to take charge, but the more she directed, the more chaotic things became. Soon, she began making excuses—claiming headaches one day and backaches the next—shifting all responsibilities onto Wu Mama. Yet she still insisted on perfection, demanding every detail be flawless. Each time Wu Mama and the others painstakingly completed a task, Qing Lan would nitpick relentlessly. After four or five days, there was still no progress whatsoever.
Qing Lan hadn’t assigned Xianglan any major role, only using her for errands. Xianglan was happy to stay out of it. One day, as Xianglan sat in her room sewing small garments, she saw Wu Mama enter, rubbing her waist. She quickly stood and asked, “Mama, what’s wrong?”
Wu Mama sighed. “One word from the concubine, and we’re running our legs off.” She sat down on Xianglan’s bed. Xianglan poured her a cup of tea from her own teapot.
Wu Mama groaned and said, “Who knows what our concubine is thinking? The guest list isn’t even finalized, not a single invitation has been written, yet she fusses over the menu every day. I suggested hiring a renowned outside chef, but she complained it was too expensive. Then she dismissed the dishes made by our own cooks. When we prepared a list of outside purchases, she crossed out half and told me, ‘No matter how good, we can’t spend fifty taels at once—ten taels is the limit!’ Hah! She wants prestige but refuses to spend. This old bones can’t take it anymore—let someone else handle it!” She took a sip of tea and sneered, “She doesn’t have the skill but insists on taking on delicate work, then nitpicks without lifting a finger herself. No wonder people say those from small households are stingy and narrow-minded.”
Listening to Wu Mama’s complaints, Xianglan frowned slightly. Qing Lan was merely a favored concubine of Lin Jinlou, but Wu Mama was his wet nurse—though a servant, she held status even in Taitai’s presence. Her presence overseeing Qing Lan’s pregnancy likely stemmed from Qin Shi’s instructions. Rather than “serving” the concubine, Wu Mama’s role was to intimidate the other wives and concubines, ensuring they didn’t stir up trouble. Yet Concubine Lan seemed oblivious to Qin Shi’s intentions, treating Wu Mama as an ordinary servant. Having served in the grand household for decades, Wu Mama was a seasoned veteran who kept her emotions hidden. For her to openly mock Qing Lan as “stingy and narrow-minded” showed just how displeased she had become.Moreover, when wealthy families host banquets, it's all about prestige. And where there's prestige, there's bound to be lavish spending. Avoiding waste is already rare enough—eschewing extravagance is simply impossible. Qing Lan was usually generous with the servants, but only by giving away her old clothes or unwanted jewelry—trifles, really. Now that real silver was being spent, it naturally pained her.
Xianglan initially didn't want to interfere, but seeing Wu Mama's exhausted expression, her kind heart softened. After a moment's thought, she said, "Why not ask Second Miss? Last time the poetry club was held, we could see which ladies and young misses were invited."
Wu Mama replied, "A concubine and Second Miss are of different statuses after all."
Xianglan immediately understood and smiled faintly. "Mama, you're overthinking it. Why worry about this? Would we really send separate invitations for each concubine? Just write 'inviting the ladies of such-and-such household' on the cards, and let them bring whomever they please."
Wu Mama paused, then clapped her hands and laughed. "Of course! We've been foolish. Trying to confirm every concubine's attendance has left me quite flustered."
Xianglan said, "An approximate headcount will do. But we should note which families are on good terms, which aren't, and who should sit with whom. Also, dietary restrictions—some Taitais are devout Buddhists and eat only vegetarian, while others prefer meat. These details matter more."
Lost in thought, she didn't notice Wu Mama's astonished expression and continued smoothly, "We needn't invite too many—a dozen or so prominent ladies would suffice. With our own Taitai and young misses, twenty-some guests would make for lively company without overcrowding. Since the concubine's budget is small, we'll adapt. Wealthy families are used to delicacies—exotic dishes have lost their novelty. Why not bring fresh produce from the manor? I recall the Master owns Shunfu Lou—I've heard their chefs can prepare dishes with flowers, both novel and beautiful. Let's hire them for a Hundred Flowers Feast. The point isn't the food but the novelty. Our garden has blooms aplenty! Though ten taels is still too little—such a banquet requires at least thirty..."
Just then, Yin Die entered. Seeing Wu Mama sitting intimately on Xianglan's bed, she felt uneasy and said, "I went to the kitchen for lotus root to make congee for the concubine. Fang Pozi wasn't there, so the steward asked me to inform you." Her eyes darted to the white porcelain cup in Wu Mama's hand—mistaking it for her own—and she grew even more uncomfortable, muttering inwardly, "Using others' belongings to curry favor." Spotting her own cup still on the table, she fell silent.
Wu Mama noticed but pretended otherwise, saying calmly, "Understood. You may go." Once Yin Die left, she asked Xianglan, "Where do you suggest holding the poetry club? The concubine still wants Pruning Autumn Pavilion."
After a pause, Xianglan replied, "Taitai favors Pruning Autumn Pavilion—wouldn't using it seem contentious? Gathered Verdure Residence stands empty now as a greenhouse. Why not hold it there? It's quiet, requires little cleaning, and has abundant flowers—perfect for poetic inspiration."Wu Mama smiled until her eyes crinkled, taking Xianglan's hand as she said, "My dear girl, I never realized you had such vision, truly outshining that one in the house. How did you learn all this?"
Xianglan felt a warning in her heart and lowered her head. "I just happened to hear Cousin mention how banquets were arranged in her old home when I was serving her. Don’t praise me, Mama—I’m just mimicking what I heard without really understanding."
Wu Mama simply smiled and patted Xianglan’s hand.
Yin Die peeked through the doorway, lifting the curtain slightly to spy on them. Since their voices were low, she couldn’t make out what they were saying, leaving her restless. Her eyes darted around before she ran to Qing Lan to complain, "Ever since Master rewarded Xianglan with that ointment, she’s been acting superior. Now she’s buttering up Wu Mama—she must be plotting something!"
Qing Lan had never considered Wu Mama important, and she disliked Yin Die besides. Hearing this, she scolded, "Mind your own duties! Don’t bother me with nonsense!"
Yin Die had no choice but to slink away.
From then on, Wu Mama often consulted Xianglan about organizing the Poetry Club. At first, she would ponder Xianglan’s suggestions, but gradually, she realized Xianglan’s ideas were far more ingenious than her own. Later, she even asked Qing Lan to let Xianglan assist in managing the Poetry Club, putting others under Xianglan’s direction while she herself took a supervisory role. Xianglan initially tried to decline, but Wu Mama said, "Once the Poetry Club is done, I’ll grant you half a month’s leave and an extra month’s wages."
Xianglan gritted her teeth and agreed. "Just one condition—publicly, it must only be said that I’m helping Mama. If it goes well, the credit belongs to you and the Mistress. I want no part of it."
Hearing this, Wu Mama scrutinized Xianglan up and down before finally nodding. "Very well, as you wish."
Thank you to Yueyue Ai Yueyue, yu21yu21, Yourenzhang’s Zongzi, and Xu Bohe for the Peace Talisman.
Transition chapter ^_^
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