Once off the main road, the so-called paths were essentially just widened and hardened ridges between fields.
It was fortunate that it hadn’t rained these past two days, making the muddy surface relatively easy to walk on, though occasional stones still dotted the way. Each of them was unsettled, and after walking for a long while, Ming Baoshan nearly twisted her ankle.
Lan Panxiao glanced at Ming Baojin, who hadn’t spoken for quite some time, and knew she was tired. “Let me carry you,” she offered.
Ming Baojin shook her head. “How much longer?”
Lan Panxiao lifted her gaze and saw, amidst the green hills and mist not far away, several small courtyards scattered about. From a distance, they appeared as hazy, gray-brown blurs, like ink strokes diluted with too much water, giving them an almost unreal quality.
“Soon,” she replied, though she had lost count of how many times she had said it.
Ming Baojin turned to look at Old Aunt Miao, who was approaching from afar. “Let’s wait for her.”
“That old woman sure can keep up,” Aunt Zhu remarked with surprise. “We couldn’t even shake her off.”
Ming Baoqing thought her words were inappropriate but couldn’t be bothered to reprimand her.
Once Old Aunt Miao caught up, the group slowly trudged toward the small estate Lan Panxiao had mentioned.
Though spring had already arrived, the countryside outside the city was always cooler than within the walls. The earthy scent of soil and the fresh, slightly astringent fragrance of budding leaves mingled with the damp, thin mist, adding an undeniable chill to the air.
The golden sun rose over the green hills, and the mist drifted and swirled like layers of sheer curtains being drawn aside by a noblewoman upon waking.
As they drew closer, the small, dusty estate began to reveal hints of green.
Lan Panxiao recalled the line, “Bamboos lean eastward, fences entwined with vines,” and her lips twitched slightly. “Perhaps…”
Her voice, when she finally spoke, sounded dry and hoarse. Aside from Ming Baoqing, who glanced over, the others wore expressions of dazed helplessness, too weary to utter a word.
“That’s the one,” Lan Panxiao cleared her throat and pointed.
Ming Baoqing followed her finger and said gently, “Thanks to Mother, we have a place to stay.”
They were now in Weiyang Li, Qinghuai Township, Wannian County, outside Chang’an—a decent location, not too far from the city. Many officials and wealthy families from Chang’an owned estates and fields here. But Lan Panxiao simply shook her head.
It was still a few moments before noon, and the surroundings were quiet, both inside and outside the houses. Men, women, and children were all busy with spring plowing and planting in the distant paddy fields. Only by the nearby stream were a few older children playing in the water with toddlers.
The farmers in the fields mostly hunched over, looking from afar like flesh-and-bone sickles.
Beside them, many slender white birds had gathered, completely unafraid of people. Occasionally, they fluttered low, skimming the ground, too numerous to count at a glance.
The scene was so serene and elegant that Ming Baoqing was utterly surprised. “So many egrets! How come there are more egrets here than by Qujiang Pond?”
Aunt Zhu chuckled. “Even people know vegetables taste best when fresh. Why wouldn’t birds know?”
Ming Baoqing still didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
“Those mud-legged farmers are turning the soil, my dear,” Aunt Zhu shook her head. “With each hoe strike, the mud underneath churns up, bringing out earthworms and little crabs—the freshest treats. How could that not attract birds?”
Ming Baoqing suddenly understood, feeling a touch of novelty.
The children by the stream noticed the newcomers and craned their necks curiously, wanting to approach. Ming Baoqing, seeing how grubby they all were, frowned slightly and said, "Let's go inside first."
Ming Baojin lifted her foot but then withdrew it, following the others toward the "new home."
Everyone knew of Lan Panxiao's background. Though they hadn't held high expectations, seeing the small courtyard—not even comparable to a single courtyard in the Mingwang Mansion—left them even more disheartened.
Ming Baoshan sighed mournfully, saying, "It's so tiny and shabby. How can anyone live here?"
Aunt Zhu was about to chime in, but after a sharp glance from Ming Baoqing, she held her tongue.
Ming Baoqing followed Lan Panxiao's steps forward. A crooked little courtyard was enclosed by half a stone wall and half a fence, with no discernible structure—it looked like a careless brushstroke on scrap paper when testing the depth of ink.
She reached out to steady the lightly swaying fence gate and ushered her sisters inside, somewhat unaccustomed to the unpaved dirt ground beneath her feet. Lifting her gaze into the yard, she saw the outer area overgrown with weeds. From the remnants of a thatched shed frame, it was clear this had once been a livestock pen.
Perhaps leftover seeds had sprouted, as most of the weeds growing in the yard were fodder favored by donkeys and mules.
Ming Baoqing's eyes followed a narrow, winding stone path and landed on a waist-high stone partition running across the yard. She thought to herself, Is this what separates the inner and outer courtyards?
Though the stone partition wasn't tall, it seemed to have once held potted plants. Ming Baoqing could only recognize a jasmine trapped in a broken clay pot; the other plants, neglected, had mostly gone wild, a far cry from the meticulously tended potted landscapes once presented to her.
The withered, yellowed leaves of these plants, shriveled from winter, hadn't all fallen yet, but slender new greens were reviving day by day in the spring breeze, obscuring the house behind so thoroughly that only the tiled roof and wooden door were faintly visible.
Ming Baoqing looked at several clusters of grass on the wall, shaped like delicate green swords, and asked somewhat puzzled, "Are those wild orchids?"
Aunt Zhu chuckled again. "Where would orchids come from? Can't the young lady recognize calamus?"
Ming Baoqing didn't mind the slightly barbed remark, simply saying, "It doesn't look much like the calamus used during the Dragon Boat Festival."
Lan Panxiao glanced back and explained, "The calamus used during the Dragon Boat Festival is grown in water, which is why it's so plump and robust. The kind that sprouts from cracks in walls and stones tends to be short and slender."
Aunt Zhu stepped closer and asked, "The young lady is quite broad-minded, still asking about flowers and plants. Does she have some plan in mind?"
Ming Baoqing ignored her and instead asked, "Mother, how much land belongs to this estate?"
"Not counting the areas around the house, roughly one mu."
"Are there no tenant farmers?"
"This land wasn't very fertile when it came into my hands, and it's too little to support tenant farmers. It was contracted to neighboring households with surplus labor. Right now, it's probably been fallow for half a year."
Having reached this point, Lan Panxiao didn't bother hiding family shame and spoke truthfully.
"How can an estate like this serve as a dowry?" Aunt Zhu muttered under her breath.
Though she spoke softly, everyone heard. Lan Panxiao felt somewhat vexed, but then Ming Baoqing said calmly, "It's better than nothing."
As a concubine, what dowry could one have? Only the price of selling oneself.
Aunt Miao was aged and muddle-headed, Aunt Lin's heart was as dead as ashes, only Aunt Zhu was struck right by these words, feeling somewhat displeased.
If not for having Ming Baoshan, she might not even have been able to shed her slave status; being able to become a concubine was already a tremendous blessing.
Following Ming Baoqing's words, Lan Panxiao lifted her skirt and stepped onto the small steps separated by the stone wall, looking into the inner courtyard.
The styles of several houses in the inner courtyard connected to form a '匚' shape. Beneath the small pergola running parallel to the stone steps was a covered well, with withered melon vines still lingering on the pergola. One end of the pergola rested on the stone wall and a withered tree, while the other end was propped on the roof of the Water Room to the left of the main house.
Facing the well and melon pergola was the central hall, with side rooms attached on both left and right. The side room on the right was clearly used as a kitchen.
Looking out from the west window of the kitchen, Lan Panxiao could still see a row of empty chicken coops inside the fence wall, and behind the coops was a thatched shed. Lan Panxiao didn't go to look, guessing it was a privy.
The courtyard within the stone wall separation was paved with several large stone slabs, which were deeply embedded in the muddy ground. Even the narrow muddy gaps between the slabs had been compacted by footprints, with only sparse grass seeds sprouting here and there. Only near the chicken coops did the grass grow more lushly than elsewhere, perhaps because it had once been well-fertilized with chicken manure and repeatedly loosened by chicken claws.
"Surely we won't be sleeping in these few rooms tonight," Aunt Zhu said in a tone as if the sky were about to fall, standing before the main house on the vertical side.
The main house was also connected to one side of the central hall, with the eaves extending out, barely resembling a corridor, yet still smaller than the servants' quarters in the Marquis's Mansion.
The interior was actually quite tidy; when the wooden door, permeated with green moss, was opened, it only emitted a choking smell of cold dust.
The first sight upon entering was tables and chairs. Peering further inside, one could see trunks, a bed, and bookshelves. There should still be some books on the shelves, because before someone left, they carefully covered them with an old garment to keep off the dust.
And that garment belonged to a man.
Aunt Zhu fell silent at once, her eyes darting from Lan Panxiao, who had come out of the kitchen, to Ming Baoqing.
Ming Baoqing's expression changed slightly, but she only asked, "Mother previously said she had gifted this estate to a friend. When he returns, won't our situation be awkward?"
"No need to worry. He was originally the son of my wet nurse and later became my dowry servant. But seeing his intelligence, I sought a good connection, so I freed him and gave him this dilapidated estate so he would have a roof over his head to study. My wet nurse is in poor health, and he has returned to his hometown to care for her. He won't be back for a short while, and if he does return, he will certainly prioritize us."
Lan Panxiao felt slightly awkward, but her tone and demeanor were frank and open.
Ming Baoqing nodded slightly and asked no more, only feeling that since the room had been occupied by a man, she did not enter.
Aunt Zhu then went into the kitchen. Seeing the stove empty, she still unwillingly lifted the lids of large jars and small pots, only to find a bottom layer of mixed beans.
"This… this isn't even enough to feed chickens. Madam, if you just speak up at the Minister's residence, the Old Ancestor dotes on you so much, surely there will be further arrangements."
Ming Baoqing's own calculations were one thing, but she did not wish to be pressured by Aunt Zhu, so she darkened her expression and remained silent.
Aunt Zhu awkwardly closed her mouth, though her expression held a kind of slick expectation.
Lan Panxiao tidied up inside the room, putting away those books and clothes into the trunks.
Aunt Zhu's voice was loud; she faintly heard that sentence and also heard Ming Baoqing's silence.
Lan Panxiao's parents had passed away. Though she was the legitimate daughter, the household was now managed by her half-brother. The bond between the siblings was thin, and her sister-in-law was shrewd and calculating—otherwise, they would not have married her off to Marquis Ming as a second wife. With a meager dowry and a generous bride price, they had profited handsomely.
When Lan Panxiao went to sound out her brother and sister-in-law, she did not weigh their affection, thinking only that even for the sake of the bride price, should they not spare her some pity and tenderness?
But that tightly shut door made Lan Panxiao realize that on this path, there was no possibility left.
Perhaps Ming Baoqing's luck would be better than hers. Once the storm passed, her maternal uncle's family might still lend a hand.
But perhaps…
Lan Panxiao closed the trunk lid, pressing down her chaotic thoughts as well.