When the Old Madam asked, Gu Qingzhao bowed and answered without hesitation: “Break off the engagement.”
The Old Madam’s face showed approval. She had feared that at such a moment Gu Qingzhao might cling to resentment and abase herself, begging Prince Cheng to reconsider. If that happened, the Gu family would truly become a laughingstock.
After pondering briefly, the Old Madam first said to Gu Yuande: “Tomorrow, invite Prince Cheng to the manor. We must renegotiate the marriage.”
Gu Yuande nodded. Then the Old Madam instructed her attendant, Nanny Qin: “Take the Fourth Young Lady to the ancestral hall. She is to kneel there until I permit her to rise.”
Hearing that Gu Qingjin was to be punished, Third Madam Xiao Hongshuang immediately dropped to her knees, weeping: “Mother, please quell your anger. I failed to teach my daughter properly. She has caused a grave disaster. I have no face to remain in the Gu family. Tomorrow I will take Jin’er to a temple to repent and atone.” Her voice trembled, a handkerchief pressed to her face, though no tears were visible.
“Poor Third Master died so young, leaving us widows and orphans. If he were still here, such a thing would never have happened.”
This was Xiao Hongshuang’s usual trick—whenever trouble arose, she dragged the late Third Master into it—crying for him, crying for their hardship.
In the past, Gu Qingzhao would have been the first to comfort her. She could never bear Xiao Hongshuang’s tears, especially when she invoked her third uncle. But now, Gu Qingzhao watched coldly, finding it all bitterly ironic. For years she had believed the second branch owed the third uncle, so she endured everything. Yet the one who wronged him most was clearly Xiao Hongshuang herself. What right did she have to cry for him? Even in death, her uncle was being used by her—that was the most hateful of all.
The Old Madam’s brows furrowed at Xiao Hongshuang’s words. Her voice grew stern: “Third Master rendered great service to the Gu family, and we have treated the third branch well these years. I have often turned a blind eye to many matters. But what is this now? A young lady of the family pregnant before marriage? Even if Third Master were to crawl out of his grave, I would still mete out punishment.”
“If you wish to cry, then kneel in the courtyard and cry. When you are finished, rise on your own.”
Xiao Hongshuang’s sharp sobbing stopped at once. She dabbed symbolically at the corners of her eyes, then stepped aside without another word.
Gu Yuande’s thoughts turned, and he whispered to the Old Madam: “Mother, after all, the child in her belly is Prince Cheng’s—it is a royal grandson. If she suffers harm from kneeling… it will be difficult to explain.”
The Old Madam gave a cold snort. “Assign more servant women to watch her, and have the household physician on standby. If mistakes go unpunished, the young ladies of this house will all follow her example. What rules would remain?”
After dealing with Gu Qingjin, the Old Madam instructed her attendant Nanny Qin: “Later, send my set of pearl headpieces from my dowry to the Third Young Lady.”
It was meant as compensation for the humiliation Gu Qingzhao had endured that day.
Gu Qingzhao bowed in thanks for her grandmother’s favor. In her previous life, she had not been close to this grandmother without blood ties. The Old Madam was always strict with the younger generation, and the whole household feared her and kept their distance.
But now, Gu Qingzhao felt differently. Though stern, her grandmother was upright. At least all these years, she had acted solely for the good of the Gu family.
Leaving the outer study, a gust of wind brushed against her, cooling her thoughts. The torment and pain of her past life felt as if they had happened only yesterday. Her steps rustled through fallen leaves not yet swept away.
Gu Qingzhao suddenly realized how solid it felt to tread upon the earth.
“Miss, Madam and Second Young Master will return tomorrow evening,” Chunlan said cautiously, watching Gu Qingzhao’s expression as though afraid to displease her.
At the mention of her mother and younger brother’s return, Gu Qingzhao’s lowered eyes grew moist. Her sharp, shadowed gaze instinctively swept toward Cuiliu, the meek servant behind her. In her past life, it was Cuiliu who had caused her brother’s death.
“I understand,” Gu Qingzhao replied, her tone as calm as ever—just as she had always been regarding her mother and brother.
“And Xiahe… where is she serving now?” she asked.
Xiahe had attended her since childhood, the same age as Chunlan, and had once been her closest maid. Later, for offending Gu Qingjin, she had been driven out of Xiyun Pavilion. In her past life, when Gu Qingzhao was seized in the Duke’s manor, Xiahe had rushed forward to protect her—only to be killed by Xiao Hongshuang’s men.
Thinking of Xiahe’s death, Gu Qingzhao felt as though her chest were blocked, suffocating her.
Chunlan was startled at the question, then answered: “Miss, she is working in the kitchen.”
“Let’s go see.”
Chunlan didn’t understand what she meant, but she asked no further questions and led Gu Qingzhao toward the kitchen.
It was Gu Qingzhao’s first time entering there. The servant women doing rough work outside quickly stepped forward to pay their respects.
Gu Qingzhao glanced around but saw no familiar figure.
At the doorway, she suddenly heard Xiahe’s voice from within: “This astragalus and donkey-hide gelatin stewed pigeon is prepared for my miss. If Concubine Wan wants some, another can be made.”
Then came another maid’s voice: “Miss Xiahe, it’s only that Concubine Wan needs it urgently, so we thought to take this one first. Miss drinks hers at night—there’s still time to prepare.”
“No. This pot is for my miss. No one may take it.” Xiahe’s voice was always gentle, but when she grew stubborn, there was no room for compromise.
Chunlan glanced at Gu Qingzhao’s expression and carefully explained, “Miss, this is not Xiahe’s fault. Before your monthly cycle, you must drink astragalus and gelatin-stewed pigeon for several days, and Xiahe always prepares it herself. The gelatin must be dissolved with fine Shaoxing wine, requiring delicate flame control. She uses the weakest candle flame, stirring constantly with a slender jade pestle for an hour. The astragalus must be honey-roasted, which tests patience. She never uses ready-made; she always roasts it herself, so the heat is gentler and the medicine milder. The pigeon is handled even more meticulously. After plucking, she uses tweezers by lamplight to remove every fine down feather, ensuring the bird is perfectly clean. That is why the soup you drink is cleaner and more effective than what the kitchen makes—it is all thanks to Xiahe.”
Gu Qingzhao said nothing. She knew all this. Chunlan had pleaded for Xiahe in her past life, but at the time she had been too consumed with her marriage preparations to care.
From inside came a sharp rebuke: “Do you have no sense of rules? Where is the kitchen steward? Our Concubine Wan is pregnant—she needs this astragalus and gelatin pigeon soup. Why can’t it be taken first?”
Peering through the half-open door, Gu Qingzhao saw the kitchen steward, Nanny Li, emerge from the inner room. She came forward and pinched Xiahe’s ear. “You may curry favor with the Third Young Lady, but don’t cause trouble for us. Concubine Wan urgently needs it, yet you keep refusing—do you have any rules at all? You’ve been here half a year, and the Eldest Young Lady hasn’t even remembered you. Yet you fuss with this pigeon soup every month—has the Third Young Lady even noticed? I once thought she cared for you and gave you better work. Now I see I was mistaken. From today, you’ll go to the back to slaughter chickens and ducks. The plucking work will be yours. If even one feather is left, watch your skin.”