After finishing the pastries, Tian Qin deliberately or unintentionally mentioned that she needed to attend to Yan Ge’er’s studies and wished to return to the residence early.
Xianqiu questioned, “Yan Ge’er is well-behaved and diligent, and he has a private tutor. Does he need his own sister to supervise him?”
Tian Qin seemed somewhat troubled and explained, “Second Sister, you may not know this, but Yan Ge’er tends to obsess over things. When he delves into his studies, he can go days and nights without sleep. I must return to keep an eye on him. Besides, I feel embarrassed constantly imposing on you and Brother-in-law at the manor.”
Xianqiu gave a slight smirk. “Silly sister, between you and me, there’s no need for such formalities.”
Tian Qin ignored this and continued to beat around the bush, hinting at her desire to return to the Yu Residence. Xianqiu sensed her underlying meaning and fell silent for a moment. Tian Qin’s urgency to return was likely because she wanted to meet with that private tutor.
“Alright, since you’re concerned about your brother, I’ll agree to let you go,” Xianqiu said considerately. “This afternoon, I’ll speak with Mother about taking you both back as soon as possible.”
Hearing this, Tian Qin finally broke into a gentle smile.
When Ku Ju learned that she would also be taken home, she felt a surge of inexplicable anger toward her illegitimate sister, Tian Qin.
If Tian Qin wanted to return, why should she drag her along?
Before they left, Yiniang had told her she must perform well this time and get closer to Brother-in-law, as the Xie family would select one of the illegitimate daughters to become a noble concubine.
Silently, Ku Ju’s resentment toward Tian Qin, who always seemed to outshine her, grew deeper, almost reaching the point of hatred.
The next day, He Shi brought the two illegitimate daughters back to the residence.
Xianqiu loaded the carriage with numerous jewels and treasures, and also packed many crab roe pastries, carefully wrapped in layers of oiled paper.
He Shi remarked, “The chef your husband hired for you—you should keep him for your own enjoyment. Why waste these on others?”
Xianqiu smiled understandingly. “Both younger sisters love crab roe pastries, and Mother can also snack on them in her leisure time.”
He Shi scoffed, “I don’t care for them.”
After a pause, she added, “Just because that illegitimate daughter wants to return, you rush your own mother back? Where is the dignity of the Zhumu of the Yu Residence?”
“Tian’er seems eager to avoid staying at Xie Manor, as if she’s hiding from someone. I couldn’t very well force her to stay.”
Xianqiu pulled He Shi aside and whispered, “I’ve thought about this matter. Tian’er’s urgency to return precisely proves that she harbors no improper thoughts toward my husband in her heart. In my opinion, I still have a better impression of Tian’er than of Ku’er.”
He Shi shot her a glare. “That excuse again. Think carefully—if that girl Tian Qin is always thinking about the private tutor, how will she ever settle down as a concubine in the future?”
Xianqiu’s expression darkened slightly, and she evaded the question. “Let’s leave it to my husband’s decision. He is indifferent to everyone.”
He Shi sighed, knowing it was futile to persuade her further. She understood that Xianqiu was determined to choose someone who posed no threat, unwilling to share her husband with anyone else.
“Think it over carefully. This matter requires careful consideration.”
He Shi boarded the carriage first, and Ku Ju reluctantly followed.
Tian Qin was the last to leave, as her quarters in Xie Residence were the farthest. Before departing, she bid farewell to Xianqiu. In the morning breeze, her hair was disheveled, and she noticed the carriage filled with jewels, treasures, and crab roe pastries.
Xianqiu smiled faintly and smoothed Tian Qin’s hair at the temples. “Your Brother-in-law prepared these for you early this morning. He had matters to attend to today and isn’t here.”
Tian Qin looked surprised, then curved into a crescent moon-like smile. “Thank you, Sister and Brother-in-law.”
Xianqiu said, “You must visit often when you have time.”
Tian Qin agreed, and the group departed by carriage.
Xianqiu stood alone, silently contemplating the selection of a concubine. No matter what, she must not choose someone who would seduce her husband.
…
The Yu Residence, newly built in the capital, was much less imposing compared to Xie Residence, occupying only a quarter of the latter’s land.
The head of the Xie Family truly understood garden aesthetics—rustic rather than ornate, with lattice windows and grey tiles, a clean and airy space for solitary tea drinking.
In contrast, Yu Yuan, the elder master of the Yu family, was a man who excelled at social climbing. His rise to prominence came only after his eldest daughter Suanzhi became empress. The Yu garden was filled with peonies symbolizing wealth and grandeur, flanked by massive stone lions—a display of vulgar ostentation.
When the carriage came to a halt, Yu Yuan felt puzzled. They had agreed to a five-day banquet at the Xie Manor, so why had they returned after only three days?
He Shi’s face was ashen as she invited Yu Yuan to the study for a detailed discussion.
Tian Qin and Ku Ju each returned to their own courtyards to pack their belongings.
Noticing that Tian Qin had received more crab roe pastries than she did, Ku Ju felt a surge of jealousy and resentment, so intense that she unconsciously crushed a fingernail.
Tian Qin had received more gifts—likely a sign that Second Sister Xianqiu favored her as a potential concubine.
“Originally, Second Sister wanted us to stay a few more days, but Tian Qin insisted on urging our return. In this selection for an honored concubine, if Second Sister’s health declines one day, there’s even a possibility for a concubine to be elevated to the main wife.”
Yao Yiniang’s eyelids twitched at this, and she hastily scolded, “Enough! How dare you curse your Second Sister? If anyone overhears…”
Ku Ju fell silent, as if struck mute.
Seeing no one around, Yao Yiniang cautioned her, “Child, you are too straightforward. You must learn from that girl Tian Qin—the more you desire something, the more you must pretend not to want it.”
After settling in hastily, Tian Qin bypassed the small stone pond with its gushing spring and headed straight for the Yu family’s private school.
Yan Ge’er had learned early of his Third Sister’s return and bounded over eagerly to greet her. The siblings embraced warmly.
“Second Sister, did you bring me any treats?”
Tian Qin smiled indulgently. “Yes, quite a few.” She instructed Zhao Lu and Wan Cui to bring the crab roe pastries from the Xie Manor for Yan Ge’er.
Yan Ge’er’s mouth watered, but he restrained himself and shook his head. “I can only eat them after class. If I grease the books, the tutor will scold me.”
Before Tian Qin could respond, a scholarly figure in a blue robe emerged from the school. Clad in wooden clogs and a white headscarf, he carried an air of refined elegance and bowed politely. “Second Young Miss, my respects.”
Xu Junzheng. The name flashed through her mind, nearly bringing tears to her eyes. In their past life, they had been torn apart by a poisoned drink—she became a concubine, he coughed blood, and they never saw each other one last time before his death. Before his grave stood empty, save for the peach blossoms she loved most.
Her gaze lowered sorrowfully, evading his. “Tutor Xu.”
Yan Ge’er held his tutor in high regard, so Tian Qin offered Xu Junzheng some crab roe pastries. To her surprise, he recoiled in alarm, repeatedly declining.
Eating greasy food in such a pure and scholarly place as the school felt disrespectful to propriety—he simply could not bring himself to do it.
“Young Master Yan, please enjoy them alone. Wash your hands afterward before returning to your studies.”
Like Xie Tanwei, Xu Junzheng dedicated himself to Confucian classics. With the court abolishing all other schools of thought in favor of Confucianism alone, mastering it was essential for official advancement. Those with profound knowledge could as easily attain high honors as bending to pick up grass.
Yet Xu Junzheng lacked Xie Tanwei’s widespread fame. He was merely a poor scholar, reliant on rote memorization, with a shallow grasp of the classical system—full of gaps everywhere.
Three years ago, during the spring imperial exams, he had failed. Since then, he had served as the Yu family’s private tutor, earning a stipend while continuing his studies, determined to try again in this year’s spring exams—unwilling to let his talents go unrecognized.
A warm breeze brushed against her heart. Tian Qin’s eyes held only him as she praised, “Tutor Xu is a genius. You will surely pass the exams this year.”
Xu Junzheng modestly declined. “You flatter me. I dare not claim to be a genius. If we speak of true genius, it is your esteemed brother-in-law who stands as a teacher to all Confucian scholars. I have always admired and yearned to learn from him.”
Tian Qin’s face instantly paled.
After two lifetimes apart, Xu Junzheng no longer remembered their past affection, his heart and eyes filled solely with a thirst for knowledge.
She chuckled softly, setting down her cup without drinking: “Mr. Xu is intelligent enough—why belittle yourself and seek guidance from others?”
A spark ignited in Xu Junzheng’s eyes: “Third Young Lady, you may not know this. Even a chance encounter with Master Xie is a fortune one might never obtain in a lifetime, let alone receiving his instruction.”
Xie Tanwei enjoyed immense prestige among the common people.
Originally, Xu Junzheng could have chosen more refined families to serve as a private tutor, yet he came to the vulgar Yu family precisely because the husband of the Yu family’s second daughter was Xie Tanwei—a model of sagehood worth emulating.
If one could receive guidance from Master Xie, it would truly embody the saying: “Heard the Way in the morning, die content at night.”
Tian Qin felt a chill, like cold water prickling her skin, belatedly realizing the weight of Xie Tanwei’s words from yesterday: “I ought to personally teach Yan Ge’er to read.”
So it turned out that for scholars under heaven, even a single pointer from him became a lifelong boast, paving the way for official success.
In her previous life, she had merely been his concubine, confined to the inner quarters, unaware of his formidable and widespread reputation outside.
Of course, Xu Junzheng didn’t have the cheek to ask Tian Qin to introduce him to that brother-in-law. After all, even Yan Ge’er, who was closely related, hadn’t received personal instruction from him—how could an outsider like him?
Tian Qin didn’t wish to dwell on that person. Just as she was about to change the subject, she felt Yan Ge’er tugging at her skirt, his voice childish: “Yan’er wants brother-in-law to teach me too! Want brother-in-law to teach!”
She couldn’t help but smile, wiping the crumbs of crab roe pastry from his lips: “Little children shouldn’t eavesdrop on grown-ups’ conversations.”
Xu Junzheng offered a gentle, apologetic smile beside them, not daring to voice that instruction from Master Xie would be more beneficial for Yan Ge’s studies.
After all, the Xie and Yu families maintained only superficial harmony.
Yan Ge’er, covered in grease from eating, was carried away by his nurse to be washed. In the jade-shadowed courtyard, early spring insects chirped all around, flower shadows danced on the walls, leaving only Tian Qin and Xu Junzheng—a man and a woman alone.
Though in the sacred space of the private school, the unmarried pair being alone carried an indescribable awkwardness. Confucianism taught: “Look not at what is contrary to propriety; listen not to what is contrary to propriety; speak not what is contrary to propriety.”
Xu Junzheng rose to take his leave, but Tian Qin intentionally detained him, deliberately inquiring about Yan Ge’er’s recent studies.
He replied: “All is well. The young master is diligent and endures hardship, understanding with just a hint. He can even resolve occasional difficulties on his own.”
Tian Qin listened distractedly, offering a few words of agreement before bustling about to personally inspect Yan Ge’er’s essays.
Spring light filtered through the trees, tracing intricate shadows. Early spring peach blossoms had fallen, one petal drifting onto her shoulder.
Her crow-feather lashes lowered, her expression focused as she occasionally turned a page.
Xu Junzheng gazed at her unconsciously for a moment before startling awake and hurriedly looking away.
Deep inside, he felt less urgent about leaving.
…
Xie Manor.
Winter’s remnants gave way to spring, waves of wind rustling through pines.
The old, dilapidated hut in the rear courtyard stood shabby and wretched, damp wood emitting the decayed scent of spring snow. The faded wood stood in stark contrast to the brightness and cleanliness elsewhere in Xie Residence.
“Creak—”
Xie Tanwei pushed open the door alone. The place was empty, deserted, filled with the bleak chill of sweeping winds.
The small bed remained, the charcoal brazier remained, traces of ink lingered—every scene and object just as they were in her previous life.
A sprig of jasmine stood in a vase, but it had already withered.
In the depths of winter, it must have been bitterly cold here.
He sat on the small bed, fingertips gently stroking the bedding as if her scent still lingered in the air, as if someone still lay there—ill, spitting blood, pitifully weeping: “Brother-in-law, I’m so cold, I miss you so much. You must stay with me tonight.”
The room was shrouded in darkness. Xie Tanwei pressed his fingers to his temples—many things had indeed happened in his past life, but this was the present now.
He had expected her to remain as she always was, yet she had changed. She even wanted to discard the Xiaxuzhuo bracelet and hid her thoughts behind a simple cup of tea.
When they met yesterday, there was something fresh and bright in her eyes, distinctly different from her past life, so much so that he could no longer understand her.
Judging by her demeanor, did she still retain memories of her past life, holding onto grudges, still… blaming him?
Back then, Yu Xianqiu had borne no sons. He had provided a generous bride price, and it was only natural for her to serve as a concubine to bear children. Later, when she offended the Zhumu and repeatedly caused trouble in the estate, even allowing her maid to steal, he had let it slide.
He owed her nothing. He simply did not love her. Was it a crime not to love? Did not loving equate to wrongdoing?
He truly did not love her.
She died from postpartum hemorrhage—a fate of meager blessings and a short life. Afterward, he had her buried in a lavish coffin with full honors, fulfilling all duties of benevolence.
Who was she putting on this act for now?
Since she was so eager to return to the Yu residence, going to great lengths to avoid him, then so be it. He didn’t care. No one cherished her anyway.
“Zhujun, the item you requested has been retrieved—”
Outside the thin door, guard Zhao Ning respectfully presented the Xiaxuzhuo bracelet, which had been thrown into the water, laid out on a velvet cloth.
Xie Tanwei casually picked up the bracelet and glanced at it. The pearls and jade shimmered with a cold light, faintly retaining the warmth of her slender wrist.
“Wrap it up. Send it back to the Yu residence for the Third Miss.”
He smiled faintly, already picturing the terrified expression on Yu Tianqin’s face when she saw this Xiaxuzhuo bracelet.