After a long night of busy work, Su Tan followed the Fifth Young Miss to inspect the Herb Garden and gather fresh, tender wolfberry tips before finally returning to Pine Crane Garden.
After a quick wash, she lay down on the couch and fell into a deep sleep.
Just as the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon, someone knocked on her door.
Having been in the mansion for several days, Su Tan knew she had to rise early, but this was truly too early.
Her morning grumpiness had long been worn away by hardship. She dragged her weary body off the couch.
Wrapping herself in a thin robe and slipping on her shoes, she sleepily pulled open the door latch.
With a soft creak, she looked up at the person outside.
The elderly woman appeared to be in her early fifties, of medium height and slightly thin, dressed in a date-red brocade jacket and a deep blue cloth skirt, her hair meticulously combed into a neat bun.
Her face was round and elongated, with deep-set eyes and distinct fine lines at the corners.
When she looked at Su Tan, unlike other nannies who would scrutinize her from head to toe, she stared directly into her eyes.
Just one glance seemed to penetrate straight into the heart.
Her entire demeanor exuded a steady composure, clearly forged through decades of navigating the turbulent waters of the imperial harem.
The morning breeze brushed against her, carrying a faint, cool chill.
Su Tan jolted awake, instinctively straightening her posture.
This must be the old palace maid sent by Her Majesty the Empress Dowager to serve Shen Xiuwang.
The one who struck fear into the hearts of everyone in Pine Crane Garden—
Nanny Jiang.
Nanny Jiang looked her over briefly and said with neither warmth nor coldness, “Every day at the first quarter of the hour of mao, come to my room to learn the rules. You now have half a quarter of an hour to wash up and change.”
“If you’re late, you’ll bear the consequences yourself!”
Su Tan widened her eyes, silently swallowed, and nodded. “Yes, thank you, Nanny Jiang.”
The old woman glanced at her, then turned and walked away, her steps measured and unhurried, her back straight.
Su Tan leaned against the doorframe and slowly let out a breath.
Learning a new set of rules—this was going to be a grind.
Nanny Jiang held a special position in the Marquis’s Mansion. Though a servant, she was provided with a small courtyard of her own to live in.
White walls and black tiles, simple and clean.
A cuckoo landed on the roof but had barely settled when a sharp reprimand from inside the wooden-carved window startled it into flapping its wings and flying away.
“Your waist is as soft as noodles. Straighten it.”
“Your curtsy must be steady from the base.”
“Thwack!”
The sound of a ruler striking a calf.
“Now extend your hand—”
Inside the room, Su Tan, sweating on her forehead, slowly extended her right hand toward Nanny Jiang, palm facing up.
Nanny Jiang, expression stern, held a dark oiled wooden ruler in one hand, raised it high, and brought it down.
“Thwack!”
A burning pain spread across her palm.
Su Tan pressed her lips tightly together, feeling the pain gradually spread and turn numb.
The etiquette she had learned at Fragrant Pavilion had been more than sufficient for dealing with patrons, but it was clearly inadequate in the strictly regulated Marquis’s Mansion.
Moreover, her movements were too soft and weak, lacking dignity.
Nanny Jiang observed her coldly—she was certainly one who could endure.
“Continue practicing.”
“Yes.”
This went on for several days in a row.
At night, while picking spring vegetables, Su Tan would still hold a lantern to illuminate medical books and illustrations, identifying each herb in the Herb Garden one by one.
Across two acres of land and over a hundred types of herbs, she could now recognize most of them.
In the early mornings, she learned etiquette under Nanny Jiang’s strict supervision, not daring to breathe too loudly.
During the day, she had to attend closely to Shen Xiuwang.
She often looked up at the square patch of sky visible in the courtyard, silently gathering her resolve.
If no path was visible ahead for now, then she would carve one out step by step herself.
By the end of the third month, the capital saw frequent rain.
Another afternoon.
Outside the eaves, rain pattered against banana leaves, drip-drip-dropping, lulling one into drowsiness.
Beyond the window, a row of emerald bamboo stood, adorned like green jade, rustling gracefully.
Before the rosewood writing desk, Shen Xiuwang leaned back in an armchair, dressed in a casual blue-and-white robe, holding a scroll of a book in his hand as he read intently.
When he came across an interesting passage, he would dip his brush in ink and jot down a few lines of commentary in the margins.
Su Tan stood by his side, grinding ink and serving tea.
When busy, it was fine, but during rare moments of leisure, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, stubbornly sticking together.
She forced herself to stay awake, secretly pinching her own arm, truly afraid she would collapse from exhaustion.
To fight off the drowsiness, she shifted her gaze to the book Shen Xiuwang was reading—
Travels of Rivers and Mountains.
The Second Young Master Shen truly had a leisurely disposition; even at home, he was planning travels and sightseeing.
How enviable—she wished she could do the same.
After reading a few more lines, Su Tan quietly withdrew her gaze. Longing for plums to quench thirst or gazing at the moon in a well—it was pointless.
Today, she had followed Nanny Jiang to learn the art of brewing tea. Although her movements were not yet graceful and refined, she had a foundation to build upon, and at least she hadn’t been slapped on the palm again.
But Nanny Jiang was an extremely strict person. Even after nearly half a month together, no matter how well Su Tan performed, she had never once shown her a smile.
Still, a strict teacher produces outstanding students. Now, no one could fault her for lacking manners or failing to observe etiquette.
The more she learned about the rules of noble households, the deeper her sense of helplessness grew—the feeling of being bound by endless constraints.
Su Tan sighed inwardly.
Sister Cai Wei’s situation must be a bit more relaxed than hers, she thought. She wondered how Cai Wei was doing now.
Her mind was a jumbled mess, thoughts drifting aimlessly, and in her daze, she began nodding off like pounding garlic.
Noticing her movements,
Shen Xiuwang set down the book in his hand and turned his head to look at the girl beside him.
Even in such a drowsy state, she was still clutching the ink stick.
Truly dutiful.
Resting his chin on his hand, he observed her with amusement.
Despite being worn down by his grandmother and mother, she hadn’t uttered a single complaint. He watched coldly, waiting for the day she would come to him with her grievances.
Yet she remained stubborn, holding it all in without a word.
A little tempering wouldn’t hurt—he needed someone with patience by his side.
Once she learned more from Nanny Jiang about managing people and affairs, Pine Crane Garden would gain another clever steward.
Shen Xiuwang stared at the girl’s profile, his gaze lingering longer than he intended.
Her delicate nose, slightly pursed red lips, and her head nodding up and down like a chick pecking at rice.
He couldn’t help but smile, raising a hand to tap the tip of her nose.
Su Tan jolted awake, her dark lashes fluttering, her gaze unfocused as she stared at him in confusion.
“Y-Young Master, this servant was grinding ink…”
“I… I wasn’t slacking off.”
That look in her eyes reminded him of the night they first met.
A young deer in the woods, a jade rabbit in the snow.
When she was unguarded, her heart free of worries, her gaze was truly endearing, stirring an inexplicable sense of tenderness in him.
Shen Xiuwang snapped back to reality, his sharp brows lifting slightly. “Stop grinding. I’m feeling tired—attend to me for my afternoon rest.”
“Yes.”
Su Tan sighed in relief, setting down the ink stick and wiping her hands clean.
She walked to the bed, bending over to carefully spread out the quilt and bedding.
The girl was slender and delicate. Even after nearly a month in the mansion, she hadn’t gained much weight.
Her waist was slender and graceful, and as she bent over to arrange the bedding, the curve of her hips was hidden beneath her skirt, creating a balanced contrast between delicacy and fullness.
Shen Xiuwang averted his gaze, suddenly recalling that night when, stirred by wine and passion, he and the girl had bared themselves to each other in the flower room of the pavilion.
His gaze darkened slightly, and his voice lowered.
“From now on, you’ll sleep on that daybed. Day or night, there’s no one to answer when I call for tea.”
Hearing this, Su Tan turned to look at him.
The main chamber had two beds—one was Shen Xiuwang’s usual sleeping place, and the other was the soft daybed by the window.
Nanny Jiang had said that the Second Young Master, having long been on the battlefield, acted with swift decisiveness and detested having maidservants keep watch in his room at night—even his attendant Zhan Ming had never stayed over.
Yet now, over a matter of tea, he was having her sleep in the same room?
Su Tan pursed her lips, a flicker of surprise passing through her heart—something didn’t seem quite right.
Shen Xiuwang remained seated in the armchair, casually closing his book and leaning back slightly.
His tone was utterly nonchalant: “Why are you standing there dazed? Could it be you’re reluctant to give up the nightly task of groping in the dark to pick vegetables?”
Hearing this, Su Tan suddenly understood.
He was indirectly helping her out—at least serving in the room meant she wouldn’t have to rush about in the dead of night.
It seemed she had overthought it.
The young lady smiled and bowed: “Yes, Nian Tang obeys. Thank you for your consideration, Young Master.”
Consideration.
Shen Xiuwang subconsciously touched the tip of his nose, leisurely rising to his feet, his tone flat: “Mm, rest now.”
Spring drowsiness weighed heavily, and the moisture outside grew denser, the fine drizzle weaving into a net.
Pine Crane Garden was quiet throughout.
A few maidservants sat together under the corridor knotting cords, attendants dozed off leaning against the corners, and in the kitchen, the cooks and old women stole sips of aged wine, chatting idly in hushed tones.
In the main chamber of the master’s quarters.
The young lady’s even, soft breaths were barely audible, her body curled into a small ball as she slept on her side atop the daybed.
She was too exhausted—the moment her head touched the pillow, she had fallen asleep.
On the main bed, the Second Young Master Shen, who had claimed he needed an afternoon nap, felt not the slightest bit drowsy.
He reclined against a pillow, his gaze fixed on the daybed not far away.
With each of the young lady’s breaths, her dense lashes trembled faintly.
Like a pair of ink-black butterflies poised to take flight—perhaps in the blink of an eye, they really would fly away.
The corners of Shen Xiuwang’s lips lifted slightly, and only when they had fully curved upward did he belatedly realize it.
He swiftly raised a finger, pressing down the disobedient corner of his mouth.
Lying flat, he closed his eyes with a cold expression, seeking repose.
Shen Xiuwang, oh Shen Xiuwang, have you never seen a woman before?
What’s wrong with you.
Utterly frivolous.