Inside the room sat a fair maiden. The three Lan sisters hesitated at the doorway. Molan glanced at Rulan, who lifted her chin and strode in first, followed by Molan and Minglan. The three sisters settled onto a luohan daybed beneath the window. Then maids and matrons streamed in like flowing water, laying out tea, fruits, and pastries brought from their carriage on side tables before fetching hot water to brew tea.
The girl continued fiddling with her teacup lid, paying no mind to the bustling servants. Minglan observed her carefully: she wore a peach-red Hangzhou satin gown with embroidered waistline and diagonal fastening, its collar and cuffs trimmed with gray squirrel fur, embroidered throughout with golden winding floral patterns. Beneath showed a moon-white threaded skirt, while a massive hexagonal gold locket engraved with "Auspiciousness and Good Fortune" hung on her chest, gleaming brilliantly. Her hair was adorned with a pair of gold-inlaid jade hairpins studded with gems. As the girl glanced down, she also sized up the three Lan sisters—each dressed in luxurious attire, their gold necklaces bearing three exquisite jade locks, all carrying themselves with refined grace.
After sipping her tea, Molan approached the girl to strike up a conversation. Within two sentences, she revealed their family background. The girl replied with reserved dignity, "My surname is Rong, given name Feiyan. My father is the Earl of Fuchang."
Molan paused briefly before smiling. "So you are Imperial Concubine Rong’s niece."
Rulan and Minglan exchanged subtle glances. Though this family sounded illustrious, their circumstances were rather tragic—like a golden phoenix rising from a tiler’s household. A beauty selected for the imperial harem had secured titles for her family, but as everyone knew, unless she bore a son who became crown prince or was enfeoffed as a prince, such titles were rarely hereditary. At best, they might last three to five generations; at worst, they ended after one generation or were downgraded until the family returned to commoner status. Thus, such families typically rushed to form alliances or cultivate talent to maintain their wealth and influence.
Though Imperial Concubine Rong enjoyed the emperor’s favor, the aging emperor lacked vigor and had yet—and might never—produce a son, casting doubt on the family’s marriage prospects.
Rong Feiyan smiled. "My elder brother and his wife brought me here. The main hall was too crowded and noisy, so I sought this room for quiet. I hope I haven’t disturbed you sisters."
Though her words were polite, her demeanor carried a clear air of superiority. Rulan, who detested anyone outshining her, focused on her tea without engaging. Minglan, recalling the morning incident where Rong Xian (the girl’s brother) had beaten someone on horseback, felt disgusted and equally disinclined to speak. Only Molan remained, diligently entertaining Feiyan. Her obsequious attentiveness gradually drew Feiyan into conversation, which soon turned to the Sheng family’s life in Dengzhou.
"...Are you related to the Qi family?" Rong Feiyan’s eyes lit up before she caught herself, composing her expression to ask cautiously, "Have you met their second young master?"
Molan smiled. "Of course we know him. In Dengzhou, he studied with our eldest brother. Earlier this year, we attended the Marquis of Xiangyang’s birthday banquet... where we also met the Sixth Royal Concubine and County Princess Jiacheng."
Rong Feiyan snorted discontentedly. "Why do these princely families keep coming to the capital instead of staying in their fiefdoms? One after another, aren’t they violating ancestral rules?"
Molan maintained a gentle expression, appearing conciliatory. "Sister, you shouldn’t say such things. The Sixth Prince is highly influential now—who knows what greater fortunes may await him?"Rong Feiyan’s expression darkened. Clenching her fist on the table, the diamond-encrusted gold pomegranate flower ring scraped harshly against the wood. She sneered, "Great fortune? More like a great joke."
Mo Lan smiled ingratiatingly, though only Minglan, having lived with her for years, could detect her underlying distaste for Rong Feiyan. Mo Lan then steered the conversation toward topics popular among the capital’s young ladies.
The households of the Sixth Prince and the Rong family exemplified two sides of the same coin—one currently quiet but potentially rising, the other presently influential yet prone to fading. Minglan lowered her head to fiddle with a crispy pine nut cream roll on her plate, casually glancing at Mo Lan.
The capital was small, gathering high-born women who appeared dignified but were inherently gossipy. The Rong family’s interest in Qi Heng was old news, yet despite their repeated hints at a marriage alliance, they had met with polite refusals from the Qi family. Now, with County Princess Jiacheng in the picture, it was like two dogs fighting over a bone—quite the spectacle!
After a few more words, a maid from the Rong family came to fetch Rong Feiyan. Meanwhile, a matron from Madam Wang’s entourage summoned the three Lan sisters for vegetarian meals. Having been hungry all morning, even the refined Mo Lan ate a full bowl of rice. Minglan alone devoured half a plate of blanched Chinese broccoli, while Rulan clung to a dish of braised bamboo shoots and mushrooms, refusing to share. After the meal, everyone sipped slowly on Qingming tea brewed by Guangji Temple. Minglan felt warmth in her stomach, utterly content.
They ought to have left then, but Hai Shi, ever observant, noticed Old Mrs. Sheng looked weary and softly suggested, "It wouldn’t be good to jostle in the carriage right after eating. Why not rest a while before departing? What does the Old Madam and Madam think?"
Madam Wang, also tired, agreed readily. Old Mrs. Sheng nodded slightly. Seeing the adults consent, Minglan immediately sought out Nurse You for blankets and pillows to take a short nap.
Unexpectedly, Mo Lan approached Old Mrs. Sheng and Madam Wang, smiling. "Grandmother, Madam, sister-in-law, I’ve long heard that the Dripping Dew Pavilion in Guangji Temple’s rear courtyard is a historic site from the previous dynasty, with poems by the esteemed Grand Academician inscribed on its pillars. The Nine Dragons Screen is also a peerless masterpiece of elegance. Since we’re here today, I’d like to see it and broaden my horizons."
Rulan, never one to sit still, grew excited and ran to Madam Wang, shaking her arm coquettishly. "Mother, you always say the capital has strict rules and keep us tightly restrained. Now that we’re out, let us explore a little."
Madam Wang’s heart softened at Rulan’s plea. She glanced at Old Mrs. Sheng, who was leaning against a luohan bed with half-closed eyes, and said, "Have some matrons accompany them and keep a close watch." Understanding her consent, Madam Wang turned back to Rulan with a stern face. "You have one hour only. Return immediately after seeing it!"
Overjoyed, Rulan performed a playful, monkey-like bow to Madam Wang and Old Mrs. Sheng, then turned to drag Minglan along. Minglan, feeling lethargic, clung to Nurse You and said, "I won’t go. Let me lie down awhile. Sisters, go ahead without me."
Rulan glared. "If you don’t walk after eating, you’ll vomit in the carriage later!" Then, bending close to Minglan’s ear, she hissed, "I won’t stroll with her! You’re coming whether you want to or not!" She pinched Minglan’s arm hard.Minglan had no choice but to accompany them.
Behind the third hall of Guangji Temple lay a spacious stone-paved courtyard used for Buddhist ceremonies. At its center stood a clear spiritual pond, beyond which stretched an exceptionally long curved wall. This arched wall extended toward the Dripping Dew Pavilion on one end and connected to the plum grove on the rear mountain on the other. The courtyard was exceptionally tranquil, with only a few young novice monks sweeping fallen leaves.
As it was early spring, the sunlight felt warm and pleasant rather than harsh. The three sisters strolled slowly along the cobblestone path with their maids and matrons, first encountering the central section of the Nine-Dragon Wall. A ferocious and powerfully coiled dragon seemed halfway to breaking free from the wall, its colored glaze remaining vibrant despite years of weathering.
Molan suddenly appeared deeply fascinated by folk relief art, admiring everything from the dragon scales to the weathered glaze. Rulan, unwilling to be constrained, had briskly left the servants in the courtyard and now skipped along cheerfully with laughter. Minglan followed languidly, suppressing yawns as she walked. Suddenly catching a faint whiff of plum blossoms, she looked up and noticed increasing numbers of plum trees around them. Her expression turning serious, she immediately halted and said, "Fourth Sister, let's stop here. We should head the other way—we haven't seen the Dripping Dew Pavilion yet."
Molang, who had been walking ahead with enthusiasm, turned back and said, "We haven't finished this side yet. Let's go a bit farther."
Seeing her seemingly innocent smile, Minglan responded lightly, "The Nine-Dragon Wall is symmetrical. Seeing the other side would be the same as finishing this side—saving both time and effort."
Despite Minglan's reasoning, Molan insisted on viewing the remainder. Rulan, initially puzzled, noticed Molan's deliberately charming demeanor and recalled how she had carefully adjusted her attire before leaving. Understanding dawned, and she exclaimed loudly, "Further ahead lies the plum grove! There's likely a poetry gathering there now—it wouldn't be proper to be seen."
Molan smiled gently, "We're merely admiring the stone wall. What does it matter if others see us?" She spoke with utmost righteousness, even tilting her chin upward to emphasize her purity of intention.
Rulan sneered, "You always sound so virtuous! Do you think I don't know what you're scheming? I'm telling you—abandon that foolish hope! With your flirtatious and frivolous manner, you'll disgrace our family name!"
Molan's pretty face flushed crimson as she retorted sharply, "I don't understand your meaning. Why must sisters speak so harshly? Now I'm determined to proceed—let's see what happens! If you dare, shout for someone to drag me back!" She turned to leave.
Rulan was livid but dared not raise her voice near the plum grove, could only stamp her foot in frustration.
Minglan moved swiftly to block Molan's path, her expression stern. Molan spat bitterly, "You oppose me too? Slandering my reputation for no reason—for that alone I must go forward!"
Minglan raised an arm to stop her, speaking calmly, "Do you truly refuse to turn back?"
Molan hardened her resolve and snapped, "I won't!"
"Very well!"As she spoke, Minglan flicked something from her hand directly toward Molan. Molan let out a sharp scream—a large patch of mud now stained the sky-blue Suzhou embroidery on her skirt!
"What is this?" Molan’s face flushed crimson as she hissed through gritted teeth.
Minglan calmly unfolded a handkerchief in her hand, revealing a clump of mud inside. It turned out that while Rulan was speaking earlier, Minglan had secretly wrapped a handful of mud in the handkerchief.
"You... you..." Molan trembled with rage, pointing a shaking finger at Minglan, while Rulan stood beside them in stunned silence.
Minglan said coolly, "If you have the nerve, go meet those noble young men looking like this. If you still insist on going, I’ll throw it in your face next."
"How dare you treat me like this?!" Molan finally managed to catch her breath.
Minglan sneered, "I wanted to slap you awake! But considering we’re sisters, I’ll let it pass. I’ll just say this—you may not care about your reputation, but we do! Father has always been cautious, and Old Mrs. Sheng and Madam Wang have managed the household with care. How could we let you ruin it all?" To be honest, she had wanted to teach her a lesson for a long time.
Molan raised her arm to strike Minglan, but Minglan nimbly dodged. Then Rulan grabbed Molan from behind. Tears welled up in Molan’s eyes as she cried out, "I’m going to tell Father! The two of you are ganging up on me!"
At this, Rulan laughed delightedly. "Go ahead and tell him! I don’t believe for a second that Father would applaud your idea of parading yourself in public. If he doesn’t give you a beating, it’ll be a miracle!" After a moment’s thought, she added, "Sixth Sister has always been honest and gentle. Even if Father doesn’t believe me, he’ll definitely believe her!"
Molan bit her lip resentfully, her eyes blazing with fury as she glared at Minglan and Rulan. Unfazed, Minglan turned to Rulan and said, "Earlier, while we were looking at the Nine-Dragon Wall, Fourth Sister accidentally fell and dirtied her skirt. Let’s help her back. Judging by the time, Old Mrs. Sheng should be returning to the estate soon."
Rulan clapped her hands and laughed. "Fourth Sister, aren’t you going back?"
Molan stamped her foot in frustration and turned to leave. Rulan hurried after her, calling out loudly, "Fourth Sister, let me help you!" At this moment, she wished nothing more than for as many people as possible to see Molan’s disheveled and muddy state.
Minglan chuckled quietly to herself, feeling immensely satisfied. The fatigue of the morning seemed to vanish. Over the years, whenever Molan had been particularly infuriating, Minglan’s initial instinct had been to teach her a lesson. But Old Mrs. Sheng had always advised against it, saying: Women face many constraints. Unless you have solid evidence against your opponent and can strike decisively, it’s unwise to start conflicts lightly. Otherwise, you risk leaving an impression of being fierce and difficult in front of others, which could hinder you in the future.
Molan and Consort Lin were cut from the same cloth. They often stirred up trouble with their gossip, yet in front of Sheng Hong, they would put on a pitiful act, as if the entire household were bullying them. Even last time, when Molan embarrassed herself in front of Princess Pingning, although Sheng Hong punished her, Consort Lin’s tears soon clouded his judgment, making him believe that Madam Wang had deliberately humiliated Molan in public.
The reason for such favoritism was simple: Madam Wang and Rulan had long left Sheng Hong with the impression of being domineering and arrogant. A pair of fierce, lion-like mother and daughter versus a pair of pitiful, weak, lamb-like mother and daughter—in such situations, men’s minds often short-circuit, their male hormones automatically making foolish judgments.Therefore, she never argued with Molan on ordinary days, especially in front of Sheng Hong, always maintaining a facade of sisterly harmony.
Minglan shook out her handkerchief, twisted it into a ball, and tucked it into her sleeve. Just as she was about to leave, she heard a light chuckle behind her. Minglan stiffened and immediately turned around. With her head lowered, she first noticed a pair of black satin boots with pink soles and the hem of a sapphire-blue robe embroidered with silver patterns. When she looked up, a tall shadow loomed over her.
Minglan quickly took two steps back, squinting to see. The sunlight at that moment illuminated half of the man’s sapphire-blue robe, making the color pure and vivid, while the other half was cast in the shadow of the stone wall, turning it into a dim ink-blue. The patterns on his robe trailed like cloisonné enamel inlays etched in darkness.
"Second Uncle," Minglan greeted respectfully with a curtsy.
Gu Tingye curled his lips mockingly and said, "Is this how you treat your own sister? Not very proper, is it?"
Minglan kept her head lowered, her tone still respectful: "Even an honest official finds it hard to settle family disputes. If I’ve done wrong, my father will punish me." The implication was clear: Mind your own business!
Gu Tingye’s eyebrows arched sharply, and his expression stiffened momentarily. "Since you call me Uncle, I ought to teach you a thing or two."
Minglan raised her head and grinned mischievously, suddenly saying, "I haven’t yet congratulated Second Uncle on his recent marriage." Then, clasping her plump, pale hands together, she curtsied again with playful charm. "May Second Uncle and Aunt be as intertwined as blooming flowers and grow old together in harmony!"
Gu Tingye’s face immediately darkened, his gaze turning sinister. Minglan regretted her words and couldn’t help taking a step back.
At the end of last month, Gu Tingye had married Yanran’s younger sister. This Second Young Mistress, having been spoiled since childhood, had a notoriously fierce temper. From the moment they wed, she dedicated herself to reforming the capital’s infamous libertine. On the fifth day after entering the household, she sold two of Gu Tingye’s bedroom servants. On the tenth day, she forced him to study and practice martial arts, forbidding him from carousing outside. On the fifteenth day, she chased away friends who came to invite Gu Tingye to watch operas. On the twentieth day, somehow obtaining information, she led a crowd of maids and servants to the residence of Gu Tingye’s mistress and proceeded to wreak havoc, smashing and beating everything in sight. Fortunately, Gu Tingye arrived in time, or else Man Niang and her two children would have been tied up and sold.
Gu Tingye, never one for a mild temper, threatened to divorce her. The Marquis of Ningyuan naturally refused, leading to a chaotic quarrel between father and son that nearly escalated into another incident requiring the Imperial Clan Court’s intervention. This series of dramatic events provided the capital’s dull and monotonous society with ample material for gossip over tea.
Seeing the dangerous look in Gu Tingye’s eyes, Minglan’s mind automatically triggered a warning mechanism. She immediately put on an apologetic expression, lowered her head, and said softly, "Uncle, please don’t be angry. It was all my fault for speaking out of turn." Gu Tingye’s anger subsided slightly as he looked at Minglan’s bowed head, thinking to himself, Why take it out on a child? He then said sternly, "What wrong has Man Niang done?"
Minglan promptly agreed, "Second Uncle is absolutely right! Aunt... was indeed a bit hasty." She even nodded vigorously, ingratiating herself.
Hearing this, Gu Tingye felt his anger flare up again for no reason. He looked down at Minglan arrogantly and sneered, "Stop pretending! You’re all the same, looking down on others! Who knows what hardships Man Niang has endured!"Minglan felt deflated. Realizing how difficult it was to fool this man, she sighed and said, "Second Cousin, what others think doesn't matter. As long as you understand Man Niang's... virtues, that's enough! For the Yu family, a lone woman traveling safely from the capital to Dengzhou with two young children, and having the audacity to cause a scene at the Yu residence—anyone would find such a woman remarkable."
Gu Tingye snorted coldly, looking down at Minglan. "She's had a hard life since childhood and has always been resourceful. Naturally, she isn't as delicate as you sheltered young ladies!"
Great! Another Sheng Hong, another Consort Lin! In their eyes, Consort Lin could do no wrong—even if she committed murder or arson, it would always be someone else's fault!
Disgust welled up in Minglan. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, struggling to suppress her anger and speak as calmly as possible. "Second Cousin, I have a question. Would you be willing to enlighten me?"
Gu Tingye was taken aback. "Speak."
Minglan took a deep breath and said clearly, "Eldest Miss Yu stayed in the capital with Lord Yu until she was thirteen. Her reputation for virtue, gentleness, and tranquility was well-known among noble families. I assume you heard of this and sincerely sought her hand in marriage several times? If Man Niang truly only wanted to enter the household as a concubine, why not simply wait for Eldest Miss Yu to marry in? Given her gentle and agreeable nature, even if Old Marquis and his wife initially refused, she would eventually persuade them. Wouldn't Man Niang then achieve her wish? Why rush to Dengzhou to cause a scene? Angering Lord Yu only ruins everything—like killing the chicken to get the eggs, it backfires completely."
Gu Tingye's lips twitched. Having just praised Man Niang for her resourcefulness, he could hardly now claim she "hadn't considered" such outcomes.
Minglan sneered inwardly. She had long pondered this matter.
Man Niang's journey to Dengzhou to weep and plead at the door was never about gaining Yanran's acceptance. On the contrary—was she afraid that Yanran's virtue, kindness, and exceptional character would steal Gu Tingye's affection? What Man Niang truly desired was for Gu Tingye to marry a shrew—a wife so quarrelsome and hostile that the marriage would be fraught with conflict. Only then could she, as the unofficial consort, remain secure and untroubled!
Seeing the stormy expression on Gu Tingye's face, Minglan quickly softened her tone and feigned sincerity. "Cousin, you are an upright man. If you think I'm being petty, so be it. It's only because I've been close to Eldest Miss Yu since childhood and feel indignant on her behalf. Perhaps Man Niahg truly has unspeakable difficulties she cannot reveal."
Ultimately, Minglan dared to be this bold because she had somewhat grasped Gu Tingye's temperament. He was arrogant, lawless, and did as he pleased. In modern times, he might have been considered a nonconformist youth, but in this rigidly etiquette-bound ancient era, he could only be seen as a dissolute wastrel. A man like him, even if wicked, was genuinely so—no hypocrite, no vile scoundrel. A few extra compliments certainly wouldn't hurt.
Gu Tingye's mind was in turmoil. Hearing Minglan's insincere words only infuriated him further. He growled under his breath, "Get out of here!"
To Minglan, it sounded like heavenly music. She lifted her skirts and sprinted away, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
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