The sharp crack of shattering broke the oppressive stillness in Rongzheng Hall.
The Old Madam, seething with fury, glared at Madam Su. “What are you trying to do?”
Seeing the Old Madam’s anger, Shu Zhi gained some courage. Kneeling pitifully in the center of the hall, she accused: “Third Aunt, what do you mean by this? Do you intend to frame me, to ruin my reputation? Isn’t it simply that Third Sister is jealous that the heir favors me, and now she seeks revenge?”
Madam Su steadied herself against the armrest of her chair, her gaze cold as tempered steel. “The confession is written in black and white. It clearly states that you ordered your maid to entrap Yun’er and the heir. If Second Miss insists on denying it, then we can take this matter before the magistrate.”
Shu Zhi gasped, her face paling with fear. She stole a glance at her mother, only to find the First Madam’s expression unmoved, cold as stone. Tears welled up in Shu Zhi’s eyes as she turned pleadingly toward the Old Madam.
The Old Madam, firmly aligned with Shu Zhi, pressed her lips into a thin line and fixed Madam Su with a look of disdain. “What good will it do you to make such a scandal? Does your husband not bear the Shu family name?”
Madam Su slowly shifted her gaze, a faint smile in her eyes. “Mother, if not for my husband’s sake, I would not even be standing here now…”
The Old Madam choked, clutching the armrest as her shoulders trembled. “You dare threaten me? You mean to drive me to my death, is that it?”
Her rage sent her into a coughing fit. Servants rushed forward to pound her back and soothe her, while the Second Madam, eager to watch the spectacle, feigned concern and fussed over her as well.
Madam Su ignored the Old Madam and instead turned her gaze toward the First Madam. “My daughter’s reputation has been ruined. From now on, it will be nearly impossible to arrange a marriage for her. At this very moment she lies in her chamber, half mad with despair. Sister-in-law, I must ask you to give us an explanation.”
Shu Zhi had claimed publicly that the heir of Prince Huaiyang had drunkenly stumbled into the wrong room. But the First Madam knew her younger daughter’s scheming nature—resentful of her elder sister’s good match, she had been determined to outshine her.
Now, faced with the written confession Madam Su had produced, the First Madam offered no defense. Though she despised her daughter’s conduct, she could not simply stand idle. Her brow twitched faintly as she lifted her eyes to Madam Su. “What exactly do you want?”
Madam Su brushed a speck of dust from her sleeve and replied coolly: “First, return the two shops taken from us ten years ago. Second, all the rent those shops have yielded over the past decade must be repaid in full by the First Branch.”
At her words, the entire hall erupted in shock. The Second Madam, who had until now remained aloof, leaped to her feet in outrage, pointing at Madam Su and shouting: “Never! Those shops were entered into the family accounts—they are public property. And this quarrel is between you and the First Branch. Why drag me into it?”
The Second Madam controlled the household finances, and she and the Old Madam had pocketed most of the shop’s income. She would never willingly give it up.
Madam Su remained unruffled. “Then let us tear the net apart and perish together.”
The Old Madam nearly choked with fury.
The Second Madam looked to her for support, while the Old Madam pressed a hand to her forehead and turned to the First Madam. Shu Zhi hadn’t expected Madam Su to be so uncompromising. Nervously tugging at her mother’s sleeve, she pleaded for help.
Already humiliated, the First Madam’s patience snapped. Seeing her daughter’s tear-streaked, pitiful face only deepened her disgust. She struck Shu Zhi across the cheek and scolded harshly: “All of this is your fault! You couldn’t stay in your place, and now you’ve shamed your elder sister and me.”
Stunned, Shu Zhi stared at her mother in disbelief, shame and anger mingling in her eyes. “Am I not your daughter? Eldest Sister and I are both your flesh and blood, yet you dote on her alone, taking pride in her at every turn. What choice do I have? I can only fight for myself!”
The First Madam closed her eyes, feeling that her younger daughter had lost all reason. Shaking her head, she let out a long, weary sigh and turned to Madam Su. “Third Sister-in-law, don’t make things impossible. You care nothing for the marriage with Prince Huaiyang’s heir—you’re only using it as a pretext to reclaim those shops. The shops are in the family accounts; I agree to return them to you. But as for repaying the rents of the past ten years—absolutely not.”
The Second Madam, seeing her elder sister-in-law yield, laughed bitterly and rolled up her sleeves in anger. “Eldest Sister, you’re a saint—always sighing over the seasons, but blind to the oil, salt, soy, and vinegar of daily life. This household has so many mouths to feed. Where do you think the money comes from? You say you’ll return the shops to her—then when silver runs short, will the First Branch make up the difference?”
The First Madam shot her a sharp look. “Fine. From this day forward, I will manage the household accounts myself.”
The Second Madam was struck dumb.
In truth, the First Madam should have managed the household as the eldest daughter-in-law. But years ago, both the eldest and third masters had passed the imperial examinations, while only the second master remained idle at home. The family decided he should oversee household affairs to support his brothers. At first, the Second Madam refused, but later proposed taking charge of the accounts herself, and the Old Madam agreed.
Thus, for many years, the household finances had been in the Second Madam’s hands, and she had profited handsomely. The First Madam, though outwardly calm, had long felt aggrieved.
Madam Su watched the drama unfold with cold detachment, then spoke evenly: “There is no room for negotiation. I give you one hour. Deliver the shop deeds and the silver into my hands. Otherwise, in one hour, Qiuju will be sent straight to the gates of the Censorate.”
Shu Zhi’s breath caught, and she collapsed to the floor. After a pause, tears streaming, she crawled to her mother and sobbed: “Mother, you must save me! The marriage has already been reported to the Retired Emperor. If this scandal spreads, not only will I be disgraced, but Father will be impeached and stripped of office…”
“And Eldest Brother—he is about to sit for the examinations…” Shu Zhi suddenly thought of this, and turned to clutch at the Second Madam’s skirts, pleading: “Second Aunt, Second Brother is still studying at the academy. If this gets out, his future will be ruined. We’ve held those shops for ten years—that’s enough. Please, just give them back to her…”
Second Madam was so enraged she nearly spat blood. She yanked her hem free, leaving Shu Zhi collapsed on the floor. Years ago, she had threatened Madam Su with Third Master’s career to wrest those shops away. Now Madam Su was simply turning the same trick back on her.
The Old Madam looked around at the chaos, wailing and lamenting. She could not bear to part with the profits, yet she could not risk her children’s futures either. After a storm of curses, she was forced to calm herself and discuss countermeasures.
Madam Su, leaning on Nanny Shan’s hand, walked out of Rongzheng Hall, leaving the clamor behind her. This grievance she had swallowed for years. She could endure hardship, she could suffer humiliation, but she would never allow anyone to trample her daughter. She was certain that no matter how domineering the Second Madam might be, she could not stand against the First Madam’s authority. After all, the First Master, a third-rank Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, was the true pillar of the Shu family.
Madam Su sat in the side hall before Rongzheng Hall and ordered a copper water clock set on the steps. The household servants craned their necks, realizing the Third Madam meant business. As the minutes ticked away, the uproar in Rongzheng Hall gradually subsided. No one knew how the Old Madam would balance the scales, but just before the hour of Wei, the steward at her side delivered the deeds and ledgers of the two shops into Madam Su’s hands.
Half an hour later, the First Madam’s stewardess also presented a heavy brocade box to Nanny Shan.
Madam Su waved them off and, exhausted, returned to the Third Branch. Her health was frail, and the morning’s struggle had drained her strength. After sipping a little porridge, she lay down.
Shu Yun tended her until she slept, noticing a trace of porridge still at the corner of her mother’s lips. Instinctively, she reached for her embroidered handkerchief to wipe it away—but found it missing. She paused, then fetched a plain snow-white kerchief to tuck around her mother before leaving.
Back in her own courtyard, she sought out Shaoyao. “Where is my embroidered handkerchief? The one from yesterday—where has it gone?”
Only recently had Shu Yun mastered the art of double-sided embroidery. After half a month of effort, she had finally produced a handkerchief she was satisfied with, a delicate orchid stitched on both sides. She treasured it dearly, never letting it leave her side.
Shaoyao was wringing out the clothes Shu Yun had worn the night before, hanging them to dry in the courtyard. As she twisted the fabric, she teased: “Last night when I helped you back, your handkerchief was already gone. Who knows where you tossed it? Perhaps you were drunk and muddle-headed, and threw it to some handsome gentleman.”
Shu Yun froze at her words. It was true… She remembered that in her dream she had indeed flung the embroidered handkerchief to that man. And now, the handkerchief was truly missing. Could it be that what happened last night was real? A chill spread through her heart.
She paced anxiously inside her room. Though the handkerchief bore no maiden’s name, anyone familiar with her would recognize it. Her personal belongings in a stranger’s hands were a hidden danger. But if she tried to retrieve it, how could she explain what had happened last night? And besides—where would she even find him?
*
That morning, Pei Yue had endured more than enough strange looks. Even though he tried to conceal it, the sharp eyes of the ministers could not be fooled. By the end of court, the matter was already spreading through the government offices.
“At dismissal, I cornered Chief Eunuch Liu and asked why His Majesty was injured. That sly old fox kept his mouth shut, wouldn’t reveal a single word. He only said the Emperor had accidentally bumped himself. Do you believe that?”
“I don’t believe a word of it! I’ve followed His Majesty for years—he’s fought countless battles and never once split his lip. If you ask me, it must have been…” He puckered his lips suggestively.
The ministers, half amused that the iron tree had finally blossomed, half regretful, murmured among themselves: “His lip was broken from a kiss—surely last night was a spring tryst. By rights, an imperial decree should have been issued this morning. Yet at this hour, neither the Directorate of Ceremonies nor the Ministry of Rites has made a sound.”
An official immediately sent someone to inquire at the Ministry of Rites, only to hear that the Minister was still pressing the Directorate for details, demanding to know every last circumstance. But by late afternoon, with the sun sinking westward, Chief Eunuch Liu remained tight-lipped. The ministers’ excitement had been worn down to nothing, and as they left the offices, they muttered: “His Majesty may be the Son of Heaven, but even he has acted irresponsibly…”
When word reached the Imperial Study, Pei Yue rubbed his forehead. It was like swallowing bitter herbs in silence—he had no way to explain.
*
For several days, the Shu household was like eggplants struck by frost, the atmosphere heavy and cold. Shu Yun brooded endlessly over the missing handkerchief; the Second Madam was heartsick over the lost silver; Shu Zhi paced her room like a grasshopper in hot oil.
Three days passed, yet Prince Huaiyang’s household had made no move to discuss marriage. Rumor even spread that the prince had confined his son. Fearing the match might collapse, Shu Zhi sought her mother’s help, but the First Madam had withdrawn into Buddhist devotion and refused to see her. Having grown up in her elder sister’s shadow, Shu Zhi could not bring herself to beg her sister for intercession. At last, she waited until her father returned home at night, and with sobs and tears, poured out her distress.
The First Master still cherished his daughter. He soothed her with a few words, urging her to wait a little longer. After all, as the bride’s elder, he could not be the one to press the groom’s family for marriage talks. Since the Retired Emperor had already spoken, it was likely that Prince Huaiyang was displeased with the match and deliberately letting his wife and son lose face before Shu Zhi.
But Shu Zhi lacked her father’s composure. Burning with resentment, she sought out Shu Yun. At dusk, she blocked Shu Yun’s path in the corridor, her eyes bloodshot. “Third Sister, what did you mean by those words that day?”
Shu Yun leaned lazily against a pillar, unbothered. “Which words?”
“You said the heir was a useless man?”
“Oh? Did I say that?” Shu Yun brushed a strand of hair from her temple and blinked innocently. “Perhaps Second Sister misheard. I never said such a thing…”
She deliberately spoke in riddles, just to torment Shu Zhi.
Sure enough, Shu Zhi wavered, half believing, half doubting. Her heart grew more restless. That night’s shrill cry from the heir of Prince Huaiyang still haunted her, and she feared Shu Yun was hiding something. But since she could get nothing out of her, she stamped her foot in frustration. “Don’t be smug. Once the marriage is settled, I’ll have time to deal with you.”
By mid-February, Prince Huaiyang’s household finally sent matchmakers to discuss the marriage. Yet compared to the solemnity shown toward Shu Yun, Shu Zhi’s betrothal was handled perfunctorily. The humiliation was great, and the First Master’s face darkened. Still, mindful of the prince’s power, he swallowed his anger in silence.
The day after the betrothal was settled, the Old Madam hosted a family banquet for Shu Zhi as a celebration.
From the palace came none other than Princess Shuyue.
Years ago, the Old Madam’s youngest daughter had entered the palace as a consort to the Retired Emperor, known as Consort Shu. She bore a daughter—Princess Shuyue. With the Emperor’s harem crowded and heirs abundant, Consort Shu was never favored, and Princess Shuyue remained obscure within the palace. Yet in the Shu household, a princess of the royal family was a golden treasure. Princess Shuyue was welcomed with reverence and seated in the place of honor.
Third Master Shu excused himself with official duties, and Madam Su claimed illness, leaving only Shu Yun idly cracking melon seeds at the far end of the hall.
Shu Zhi, ever eager to flatter Princess Shuyue, had won her favor and enjoyed a close rapport.
“Spring has come,” the princess said. “Father has ordered us to study at Yinghua Hall. Come with me.” Each princess was permitted to choose a companion reader, and Princess Shuyue, mindful that Shu Zhi was soon to be the heir’s consort, sought to strengthen ties.
Shu Zhi was about to agree when her gaze fell on Shu Yun across the hall, serene and carefree. A surge of resentment rose in her chest, and she quickly devised a plan. Leaning close, she whispered a few words into the princess’s ear. Princess Shuyue frowned.
Seeing her hesitation, Shu Zhi pressed on: “I am in the midst of scandal—I cannot show myself. Better to let Shu Yun take my place. She has been taught by Third Uncle and paints beautifully. With her help, Your Highness will easily manage the lessons.”
At that last remark, Princess Shuyue understood. Shu Yun’s gentle nature made her easy to command—perfect for copying assignments. And besides, her grandmother had fallen ill from the quarrels with Shu Yun and her mother. How could Princess Shuyue not seize the chance to vent her grievance?
Princess Shuyue nodded with satisfaction, then raised her voice to address Shu Yun across the hall: “Shu Yun, starting the day after tomorrow, you will enter the palace as my companion reader and attend lessons with me at Yinghua Hall.”
The melon seeds slipped from Shu Yun’s hand, scattering across the floor. A buzzing filled her head—this was disastrous!
The Retired Emperor had established Yinghua Hall as the royal academy, appointing great scholars from the Hanlin Academy and the Imperial College to instruct the princes and princesses. Even the heir of Prince Huaiyang had once complained to her of the hardships of study there.
Shu Yun herself disliked reading. Every time she faced those endless “zhi, hu, zhe, ye” characters, her head throbbed. And now, Princess Shuyue’s intent was clearly malicious. Her delicate face fell.
Seeing Shu Yun’s expression of distress only fueled the princess’s mischief. “When I return to the palace, I’ll have my mother issue a decree to your household. You won’t be able to escape.”