Xiao Tingyun looked at her, surprised. “When did you become so close with Concubine Wan?”
Concubine Wan’s given name was Jiang Wan, a native of Jiangnan.
Three years ago, the Prefect of Zhejiang had sent many well-trained maidens to the capital. Jiang Wan was originally gifted to Chen Ang, the Minister of War. But Chen Ang was indifferent to women and passed her along to another household. By a twist of fate, Jiang Wan eventually became Gu Yuande’s concubine.
From the moment Jiang Wan entered the Gu residence, Gu Yuande’s two former concubines fell out of favor. Neither had borne children, and both were soon dismissed to country estates.
Gu Qingzhao smiled lightly at Xiao Tingyun’s question. “It’s not that we’re close. I’ll explain to Mother later.”
Xiao Tingyun accepted her words without pressing further. She led her attendants, carrying gifts, and guided little Gu Yannian toward Cihui Hall.
Meanwhile, Gu Qingzhao took Xiahe and two young maids, bearing gifts for Concubine Wan.
The present was a cushion made of camel hair—warm in winter, yet breathable and not stifling.
As they passed the koi pond in the small garden, Xiahe stumbled. The cushion slipped from her arms and fell straight into the water. She quickly fished it out, but damp stains marred the fabric.
Gu Qingzhao frowned. “Mother entrusted us with this task; we must see it done properly. I recall Grandmother has a similar cushion. Let’s stop by Cihui Hall.”
So they turned toward the hall once more.
Gu Qingzhao deliberately avoided disturbing her grandmother or mother, instead summoning the old lady’s personal maid, Lamei.
“Lamei, this gift from my mother to Concubine Wan was accidentally soiled. I remember Grandmother once received a cushion like this. Could you lend it to me for now? I’ll purchase a new one in a few days and return it to Grandmother.”
Lamei laughed. “Why speak of returning? If you ask, the old lady would never begrudge you something so small.”
It was not a rare treasure, and since the young mistress spoke so politely, Lamei took it out without hesitation.
Gu Qingzhao added, “Xiahe’s dress is soaked. I’ve sent her back to change. If you’re free, would you accompany me instead?”
Seeing Xiahe’s gown indeed wet through, Lamei agreed. “Of course. I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind my clumsiness.”
Thus Xiahe was sent away, and Gu Qingzhao, with Lamei and several maids, proceeded to Qingyi Courtyard.
Along the way, Gu Qingzhao inquired after the old lady’s health. Lamei answered each question, touched by the young mistress’s concern. Warmth rose in her heart—she had not expected the Third Miss to care so deeply for her grandmother.
Before long, they arrived at Qingyi Courtyard.
Hearing that Gu Qingzhao had come with Lamei, Concubine Wan herself came out to greet them. Each time Gu Qingzhao saw her, she could not help but look twice. Each time she marveled anew: the beauty of Jiangnan women truly differed from that of the capital.
That day, Concubine Wan wore a robe of soft, smoke-colored gauze in the shade of lotus-root pink. Along the collar and sleeves, subtle embroidery traced entwined lotus blossoms in matching hues. Even though she was already four months pregnant, her figure remained slender and graceful. As she walked, the hem of her skirt swayed lightly, like a spring breeze brushing against tender willow branches—silent, effortless, and suddenly before one’s eyes. Her features were exquisitely formed, her skin fair and luminous. Her voice carried a soft, lilting sweetness, touched with just the right trace of the Wu dialect. When her gaze shifted, it shimmered with a misty tenderness.
“Why has Third Miss come? Please, come inside and have some tea.” Concubine Wan spoke politely, yet her eyes held an unmistakable glimmer of wariness when she looked at Gu Qingzhao.
Gu Qingzhao did not enter. Instead, she signaled the maid to present the gift. “My mother has returned to the residence, and this is a gift she prepared especially for you, Aunt. I hope you will not find it unworthy.”
Concubine Wan feigned delight, as though overwhelmed by favor.
“How could anything bestowed by Madam be anything but fine? Please thank Madam on my behalf. She must be weary from her journey today—tomorrow I shall pay my respects.”
Gu Qingzhao said no more, only nodded and turned to leave.
That day, Xiao Tingyun returned to the Gu household with the heir, Gu Yannian. The old lady hosted a banquet in Cihui Hall, gathering the family for a reunion meal.
Gu Qingzhao changed her clothes, rested for half an hour, and then made her way to the hall.
Cihui Hall was not close to her quarters at Qiyun Pavilion; a garden lay between them. She loved walking through the winding corridor over the lotus pond—cool in summer, shielding against the wind in winter. Sometimes she glimpsed koi leaping from the water, or heard the soft rustle of lotus leaves stirred by the breeze.
At the hall entrance, Madam Chen, the Gu family’s eldest madam, was busy arranging the evening meal.
Seeing her, Gu Qingzhao’s steps faltered. In her previous life, after she was captured, she had been locked away in a woodshed of the Gu household. Madam Chen and her cousin Gu Qinglan had tormented her cruelly to curry favor with the new empress. To break her spirit, Madam Chen had revealed many things she had never known—how the steward had siphoned off family wealth, how her mother’s dowry had been swallowed, even how her grandmother had met her sudden death.
Unable to speak then, she had listened helplessly, treated as nothing more than meat on the chopping block. In that silence, she learned many secrets. Now reborn, she had already faced several enemies. When she confronted Madam Chen, she remained calm.
She stepped forward to greet them, then nodded to her elder cousin Gu Qingyan and second cousin Gu Qinglan. Toward Gu Qingyan, her heart held only gratitude, but today was not the time to show it. Without betraying any emotion, she entered the hall.
Apart from Gu Qingjin, who was resting during her pregnancy; Gu Yuanbo, who had gone to the estate to check the accounts; and Gu Yansong, who was studying at the academy, the rest of the family was present.
The old madam and Xiao Tingyun had not yet emerged—they were still speaking in the inner chamber. Once they arrived, the meal could begin.
Servants moved quietly in and out, setting dishes with not a sound.
By the eastern window, young Gu Yannian sat properly in his chair, reading a book.
“Let’s play cuju! I’ll kick, you try to snatch,” cried Fourth Young Master Gu Yantong, suddenly bounding forward.
Gu Yantong was the posthumous son of the third master, half a year younger than Gu Yannian, yet already half a head taller.
Gu Yannian lifted his eyes, expressionless. “I don’t want to play.”
Not even a word of explanation.
Spoiled by Gu Yuande’s favor, Gu Yantong behaved like a little tyrant in the household. Hearing Gu Yannian refuse, he grew displeased at once—stretching out his hand, he shoved him straight.