When Mi Yao left Tingsong Courtyard, she told Xiao Liang and the others that she would first go to see Xiao Xu. If there were nothing important, she would return and stroll with them.
But after coming out of Xiao Xu’s place, her expression was heavy. She didn’t go back to Tingsong Courtyard—instead, she undressed, climbed into bed, and lay under the quilt. After lying there for a while, she grew bored. Stretching her hand out from the soft covers, she picked up the leisure book she hadn’t finished reading.
Seeing this, Shuang Hua and Yu Xiu exchanged glances and breathed a sigh of relief. Having been by Mi Yao’s side constantly, they understood her moods well.
In the past, Mi Yao often grew angry—angry when she didn’t get the jewelry she wanted, angry when not enough people praised her at poetry gatherings, sometimes even angry for half a day after bumping into her stepmother, Madam Li, too often in the household.
But in the past half year, Mi Yao seemed to have lost the emotion of anger. Whenever something displeased her, she expressed it immediately.
So when they suddenly saw her looking gloomy, they grew uneasy.
Now, seeing her lying lazily on the couch reading as usual, smiling when she came across something amusing, they felt reassured.
Since Mi Yao herself didn’t mention going to Tingsong Courtyard, naturally, no one urged her to get up. Near lamp‑extinguishing time, Shi Ya finally asked: “Madam, shall we bring the little girl over?”
“Yes. And tell Second Young Master that I went to the Commander’s place, grew tired, and returned to rest, so I didn’t join them for the walk.” Mi Yao blinked her sore eyes, showing no hesitation in this matter. When she had just left Xiao Xu, her mood was low—she wanted to ignore everything. But after a quarter of an hour, she realized she was letting herself be led by him too much. Why should she care what Xiao Xu thought?
Being a pampered wife was not the same as being an employee. The former relied on beauty and coquettishness to secure a livelihood; the latter labored like a beast of burden for food. Besides, she had more than looks—she had family background. Even setting aside her knowledge that Xiao Xu was destined to be the victor, as he himself said, he was still just a blade that might die on the battlefield tomorrow. She, however, was the legitimate daughter of the Yu clan.
He was a newly risen noble; she was of an old and powerful family. Thus, as long as she put on the proper façade, that was enough—there was no need to wrong her own feelings for his sake.
Since the “raising cubs” game had already begun, she would simply play it out until she tired of it.
Xiao Xu lived in the same courtyard as Mi Yao. When she sent someone to fetch Xiao Shan, Xiao Xu naturally received word.
“Commander, should I remind Madam?” Pu Qing asked cautiously. He thought it was a good thing that the young lady had begun to learn speech under Lady Yu’s guidance. But if the master was displeased, then it could not be right.
“No need.” Xiao Xu did not believe Mi Yao had failed to understand his words—rather, she simply hadn’t taken them to heart.
Since she hadn’t taken them to heart, there was nothing more to say.
Mi Yao, headstrong as ever, expected to endure a few more of Xiao Xu’s cold stares. Yet the very next day, he began leaving early and returning late. Though they lived in the same courtyard, their encounters were fleeting and hurried.
At first, when she saw Xiao Xu’s meals, she thought that after their marriage, they ought to dine together. But since his comings and goings were so erratic, she no longer had to trouble herself with such matters. She could continue ordering from the small kitchen, caring only about her own tastes.
“Brother-in-law is like this, alas…” Yu Xiu let out a heavy sigh. When her elder sister ignored her and kept shaping rice balls with Xiao Liang and Xiao Shan, she could only press her lips together and fret in silence.
Mi Yao, however, couldn’t even be bothered to glance at Yu Xiu’s bitter-melon face. She truly didn’t understand what Yu Xiu found to worry about every single day.
The household did not lack food or clothing for her, no one defied her wishes, and she was treated as second-in-command of the inner quarters. Even Xiao Liang had relaxed, smiling more often. Yet Yu Xiu spent each day fretting over whether Xiao Xu was pleased or not.
“If you hover nearby, and these dumplings turn out bitter, that will be your fault.”
After shaping the sticky rice balls with Xiao Shan and the others, before dropping them into the pot, Mi Yao deliberately shifted the blame onto Yu Xiu, fearing the flavor might not turn out well.
“Elder Sister, I didn’t do anything,” Yu Xiu protested, looking aggrieved.
“You keep sighing, looking like a bitter melon. With all that gloom, how could these treats possibly taste sweet?”
Mi Yao was kneading rice balls stuffed with flower petals—gardenia, plum blossom, camellia. Such fillings, if not handled properly, easily turn bitter. Even with white vinegar to temper them, she worried she might fail.
In truth, this was the first time she had seriously tried cooking.
As a child in the welfare home, the food was poor, but there were caretakers, so she never had to cook. Later, in school, she ate at the cafeteria. After graduation, while busy starting her business, she lived on takeout and her culinary skills were limited to boiling noodles. Only recently had she felt the urge to cook—and oddly enough, it had something to do with Xiao Xu.
In this era, managing people was far simpler than in modern times. Once a contract of servitude was signed, everyone weighed their actions carefully.
Thus, even with more than forty servants in the Xiao household, Shuang Hua quickly adapted, preparing a register as Mi Yao instructed. Each day, she assigned tasks, and once completed, Mi Yao would check and mark them off. She then began interviewing cooks, replacing two in the main kitchen, hoping Xiao Xu might eat better.
During the interviews, she met one skilled in Fujian-style pastries. It reminded her of her past life, when she had collected recipes everywhere and had the main cast prepare pastries that amazed passersby. The memory sparked her interest, and she added a new cook to the small kitchen, eager to experiment with such delicacies.
Yu Xiu was like a little shadow, always following along with whatever others did, which was why the scene before them had unfolded: wearing the apron and sleeve guards hastily sewn by the embroiderer, face smudged, making honey dumplings.
The Yu children were innocent and carefree—so long as there was food and drink, they were content. But what could she do? She wasn’t a child without sense; it was only natural that she felt differently.
Watching her elder sister and Xiao Shan eat dumplings sprinkled with dried osmanthus petals, she tried one herself. It was sweet, not bitter at all, and yet her heart grew more stifled. She left the courtyard to wander aimlessly.
First, she sought out Shuang Hua, but found her too busy to talk. After standing idly for a while, she drifted toward the lotus pond. Compared to the muddy pit her sister had first encountered upon arriving at the Xiao estate, the pond now, though still lined with withered stalks, held clean running water. The pool was clear, and from time to time, fat fish surfaced to blow bubbles.
Around the pond, evergreen trees had been planted, along with several bare flowering trees—one could imagine how beautiful it would be come spring.
Back at the Yu household, the main branch always came before the second, and the second was under Madam Li’s control. Though Mi Yao, being legitimate-born, lived in a proper courtyard, the many children of the second branch meant that side rooms were shared with other half-sisters.
At that time, her elder sister had wanted to plant flowers but there was no space, let alone for her. Now, however, before planting trees, her sister would ask her opinion—what flowers she liked—and if she named any, Shuang Hua would purchase them, and the gardeners would tend them.
Compared to before, life was immeasurably better. No one in the Xiao estate ever used her status as a concubine’s daughter against her. As her elder sister’s younger sibling, she was treated as a mistress of the household. And yet she remained dissatisfied, sulking day after day. No wonder her sister grew weary of her.
Once she thought it through, Yu Xiu’s anger ebbed away. She hunched her neck against the cold wind and decided to return to apologize. But after only a few steps, she froze.
“Well, well—so it’s you, sneaking around here.”
Yu Xiu heard the rustling but did not call out immediately. Instead, she tiptoed behind the rockery, saw Xiao Yi, and said nothing—only when he noticed her did she open her mouth to mock him.
Her gaze swept over his hastily donned clothes, and she snorted: “I thought you were so capable. Turns out you’re bullied outside into this sorry state.”
Xiao Yi realized she had caught on quickly, but she had still seen the bruises on his shoulder. Glancing at the ointment in his hand, she understood what he was hiding here to do.
“Aunt, I fell,” Xiao Yi lowered his eyes in explanation.
“If you fell, why sneak off here to apply medicine in secret? And if you fell, the injuries should be on your knees, face, or the back of your head. Yet you’re hurt on your shoulder.”
“My legs are injured too. When I fell, I struck my shoulder as well…”
“So there are quite a few places you were beaten.”
Yu Xiu did not believe a word. The Yu family had many children; when she was young, her sisters bullied her often. But being girls, they never pinned her down to beat her. She had heard others say that among the boys, bullying could be so rough it left noses bleeding.
If Xiao Yi had only fallen, he would not be hiding to apply medicine. Hiding meant guilt—meant he did not want anyone to know. And if he felt guilty, then whoever had struck him must be someone he could not afford to offend. As a foster son without father, mother, or Xiao family blood, there were far too many people he could not afford to offend. Before, he and Xiao Liang had even feared little Ma Hu, a four-year-old with a tigerish face.
“Aunt, I was born lowly. To be adopted into the household by Father is already great fortune. If they lay hands on me, it is only to teach me rules. I do not wish Mother and Father to worry for me. I beg Aunt to act as though you saw nothing today.”
Seeing the contempt in Yu Xiu’s eyes, Xiao Yi knew she looked down on him. So he belittled himself further, making clear that if she spread word of his being bullied, he would suffer even more.
Sure enough, after he spoke, Yu Xiu gave a cold snort: “I only came because I heard a noise, to see if there was a thief. Who has the patience to meddle in your affairs.”
After speaking, Yu Xiu turned and left, and Xiao Yi finally let out a breath of relief. He put away the ointment but did not immediately return to Tingsong Courtyard. Instead, he found another sheltered spot and rubbed the swelling on his shoulder through his clothes. The other bruises from fists and kicks were manageable, but this one—once swollen—made his hand ache whenever he held a brush. The pain ruined his writing. If the tutor disliked his poor handwriting and refused to teach him, that would be far worse than being bullied. Only when he felt the medicinal scent had mostly faded did he return to Tingsong Courtyard. Just as he stepped through the gate, he heard the nanny announce that Mi Yao had arrived. At the news, he froze, glancing toward Yu Xiu, who held her head high in arrogance.
Meeting his gaze, Yu Xiu rolled her eyes. Of course, she would not meddle in his affairs. But her elder sister was her pillar of support—how could she possibly hide anything from her?
The moment she left the rockery, she told her sister her suspicions: that the Xiao family’s eldest son looked capable, but in truth was a fool who let himself be bullied outside without daring to make a sound.
“Why are you only coming back now? Sister has been waiting for you for a whole cup of tea’s time.”
Yu Xiu snapped impatiently at Xiao Yi.
Mi Yao was waiting in the study at Tingsong Courtyard. With no wind and a book in hand, the wait for a cup of tea was hardly tiring. After a while, she even began to consider setting aside a study in her own courtyard as well. With new servants entering the household, she had not only assigned more to Tingsong Courtyard but also reallocated the use of several rooms there.
Originally, the three children shared one room, while Xiao Liang’s nurse lived together with the courtyard’s embroideress. Nanny Fan had her own room.
As Nanny Fan herself put it, she was guarding the young lady’s quarters, so it did not truly count as living alone.
When the room was opened, the furnishings were arranged according to a child’s tastes, with low chairs much like those in Xiao Yi’s quarters. Yet there were few of Xiao Shan’s belongings, and the place carried the sour odor of Nanny Fan, the old nurse who seldom bathed in winter.
At times, Mi Yao felt it wasn’t that she was overflowing with sympathy, but rather that the situations she encountered were simply too illogical for her to turn a blind eye. She fined Nanny Fan three months’ wages, then began to refurnish Xiao Shan’s room. She cleared out three rooms: one for Xiao Liang, one to serve as a study, and one as a playroom.
“It’s not that you must sleep apart from your brother right now, but you should have a room of your own. All your things can be kept there. Then, when one day you feel grown enough to sleep alone, entering that room won’t feel unfamiliar.”
After instructing Xiao Liang, she explained the uses of the other two rooms.
Once she had divided the children’s quarters, Mi Yao left the rest alone. Whether Nanny Fan chose to share a room with others was none of her concern—what mattered was that she could not occupy the master’s rooms.
While Mi Yao was doing this, Xiao Yi was at the academy. When he returned to the residence, Xiao Liang excitedly told him about it.
Xiao Yi went out of his way to thank Mi Yao and accepted her kindness by moving his reading and writing to the study, rather than continuing to use the small round table meant for pastries as his desk.
“Peace to Mother.” After exchanging glances with Yu Xiu and the others, Xiao Yi saw Mi Yao looking at the practice sheets he had left on the desk. His face flushed. “Mother, my handwriting is poor.”
Compared to the noble children who began their studies at four or five, before being adopted by Xiao Xu, he had not known a single character. Even afterward, he had no thought of learning to read, only of training his strength and practicing moves, hoping to follow Xiao Xu into the army.
It was only this year, realizing that Father studied characters and read military texts at home, that he finally came to his senses and began to learn seriously. Because he started late, his handwriting was the worst in the academy.
The other students often mocked him for it, and Mi Yao—being a noble daughter who valued rules and scholarship above all—made him all the more uneasy.
“For your age, your writing is quite good. When I was your age, I couldn’t even hold the brush steady.”
Looking at the neat regular script on the practice paper, Mi Yao did not compare him to the original owner’s progress, but spoke of herself instead. The first time she touched a brush was in first grade. Since the welfare home hardly taught writing, she had learned with pencils, practicing for a long time before mastering the proper grip. When it came to holding a brush, she couldn’t adjust. Before long, her grip slipped back into the pencil style, and the teacher scolded her as stupid. It left her thinking her brain was underdeveloped, unable to control her own hand. Only when she grew older did she learn the saying: “There is no fixed method for holding a brush.”
“Come here and write a few characters for me to see.”
Thinking of brush grip, Mi Yao called Xiao Yi forward. Seeing him write with a suspended wrist, she felt he was doing well. As for the trembling strokes, her eyes fell on his arm.
Those who bullied him were clever—never striking his face, but hitting the arm he needed for writing. That way, adults would not notice, yet he would still suffer.
Xiao Yi wrote the sentence taught by the tutor that day. When he finished, he set down the brush and stood before Mi Yao with his head lowered, saying nothing.
“Sister, I told you he doesn’t know a good heart when he sees one. Your coming here is wasted—he only pretends to be mute and says nothing.”
“I didn’t. I know to be grateful that Mother worries for me. I only fell.”
Hearing Yu Xiu’s words, Xiao Yi feared Mi Yao would misunderstand, so he quickly explained. As he spoke, he stole a glance at Mi Yao’s expression, but could not read her mood. By now, he clearly understood that Mi Yao was a kind-hearted person. She taught her younger sister to speak, worried her second brother might be lonely, and often called him to the main courtyard. In such circumstances, he wished he could be less troublesome, not add to Mi Yao’s burdens. Yet no matter how well-behaved he was at the academy, someone always targeted him, finding him an eyesore.
“Tomorrow I’ll go to your academy. You can point out to me where you ‘fell.’” As Mi Yao spoke, she thought of Xiao Yi’s usual school hours and paused. “Of course, I won’t leave with you in the morning—I can’t rise that early. I’ll come before noon.”
“I truly am fine, Mother. You don’t need to go out on my account.”
Knowing Mi Yao did not believe his words, Xiao Yi pressed his lips together. His younger brother and sister were still small, and they carried Xiao family blood—it was only natural for them to receive Mi Yao’s care. But he was merely a foster son.
“Will you eat here in Tingsong Courtyard today, or come with me to the main hall?”
He was still thinking how to dissuade her, but Mi Yao had already risen to leave. Hearing her question, Xiao Yi froze for a moment before replying: “I can eat here in Tingsong Courtyard.”
Mi Yao acknowledged him lightly, her expression unreadable. Xiao Yi could not tell whether her talk of visiting his academy tomorrow was serious or just a passing remark.
After dinner, when the physician arrived to examine his injuries, Xiao Yi realized that Mi Yao had truly taken his situation to heart.
The doctor checked him thoroughly, applying medicine to every bruise. Red-faced and hesitant, Xiao Yi finally went to the main hall.
Since Mi Yao had married Father, Xiao Yi had prepared himself to greet her daily. But Mi Yao did not rise early, and whenever he left for the academy, she was still asleep. Unable to offer morning greetings, he had changed them to evening ones. Yet after the first time, Mi Yao told him she did not care for such formalities. Once he had finished supper and his lessons, he should either play or sleep—there was no need to stand before her as if being punished.
Understanding that Mi Yao disliked his constant appearances, he never again went to the main hall, only occasionally glimpsing her in Tingsong Courtyard. Remembering this, he was all the more puzzled why Mi Yao had summoned a physician for him, and why she intended to visit his academy the next day. Could it be that because he was injured, he was no longer considered a burden?
After Xiao Yi finished thanking her and stood silently, Mi Yao paid him no mind. Instead, she continued to fuss over the flowers before her. Since reading had become her usual pastime, she had noticed her eyesight worsening compared to before. So, aside from making pastries, she had added flower arranging to her leisure projects. She had never studied floral design in modern times, nor had the original owner. Thus, her method was simply to pull out all the illustrated flower arrangements from the household and imitate the styles of tasteful scholars.
After several attempts, she found herself enjoying it.
Today she prepared a large, round-bellied blue-glazed vase, using wintersweet and nandina as supporting branches, with camellia as the main flower. The materials were not complicated, but her trimming kept diverging from the illustrations, so all her attention was fixed on the cuts.
“Does my arrangement look beautiful?” Once she finished trimming, Mi Yao stepped back to admire it for a while, then asked the only audience in the room.
“Mother, the arrangement is very beautiful.” Xiao Yi had never imagined that a few flowers could be arranged into such a pleasing sight. In the past, he thought Mi Yao was not as others described—aloof and untouchable as a noble daughter. But now, he realized she truly was different from ordinary folk.
Seeing Xiao Yi’s expression, Mi Yao knew exactly what he was thinking. “I’m only finding myself a pastime. The shapes I learned from painters’ illustrations, the flowers I had people buy. I won’t deny I’m skilled, but I’m not as extraordinary as you imagine.”
After speaking, she had Shi Ya carry the arrangement away and returned to the real matter at hand. She disliked trouble—if Xiao Yi kept things simple, she would not go out of her way to interfere. But being bullied was no small matter; she could not ignore it.
Since Xiao Yi refused to speak plainly, she would have to bring the issue into the open herself.
“Your father’s abilities are well known. Whoever provokes you is unlikely to be ordinary. At first, I thought it might be the Ma family. Old Madam Ma has no sense, treating the Xiao estate like her own back garden. I dismissed her relatives from the kitchen and fined Nanny Fan her wages, yet lately she’s been quiet, which doesn’t fit. But seeing you so determined to die rather than speak—what, is it the Zhao family bullying you?”
What enemies could a child possibly make?
When Yu Xiu mentioned Xiao Yi being bullied, Mi Yao immediately thought of her own situation. First, she suspected the Ma family. But in the study, seeing Xiao Yi’s silence, she thought further—remembering how she had refused Madam Zhao’s invitation just days before.
Xiao Yi never expected Mi Yao’s casual guess to strike true, nor that she would name the right people. All the more, he did not want her to go to the academy tomorrow.
“Today it was Ma Hu’s elder cousin. He’s much older than me. My fists are no match for his. I suffered a loss today, but he should quiet down now and stop troubling me.”
“You suffered a loss, and you think he’ll quiet down? You’ve got it backwards. Only if he suffers a loss will he stop.”
Mi Yao finished speaking and told Shi Ya: “Go find a few strong matrons to come with us.”
Thinking the household staff were all new and might not be able to hold their ground, she added: “Go to Pu Qing, have him give me two guards.”
She did not mind storming into another family’s estate at night for the sake of a child, but safety had to be assured.
Hearing her orders, Xiao Yi realized what she intended and blocked her path. “Mother, you needn’t do this for me. Ma Chengchun struck with restraint—he didn’t cause me serious injury.”
Mi Yao truly marveled at him. Who else could be beaten and still claim the other had shown restraint?
“I know you fear the Ma family’s backers. And I know it was the Zhao family who set their boy on you. Don’t worry—when I go to confront them, whatever the Ma family says, I’ll pretend not to hear.”
She patted Xiao Yi’s shoulder to reassure him. “Bullies only respect strength. They’re not the only ones who understand that—I do too.”
Before Xiao Yi could even process her words, she had already donned her brocade cloak, radiant with energy, and swept out of the courtyard.