Madam Xu sat stiffly for a moment, then finally relaxed. Then, with a kindly expression, she called out, “Wei’er.”
This was Er-niang’s child. Madam Xu knew her second son-in-law’s family lacked status and that Song Zhiwei, as the eldest daughter who had lost her mother, would have difficulty arranging a good marriage in the future. That was why she had specifically sent a letter asking that the girl be brought to the capital.
What she did not know was that Song Zhiwei was actually Gu Fangruo’s adopted daughter. Her biological mother had been the beautiful but low-born concubine who had once monopolized Song Qingya’s affections.
Although Gu Fangruo cherished Song Zhiwei, and though they were mother and daughter in name and sentiment, some things could not change. They shared no blood relation whatsoever. Normally, that wouldn’t have mattered much.
Who could have imagined that even after Gu Fangruo had been dead for several years, and after Song Qingya had already remarried and his second wife had been in the household for two or three years, people in the capital would still remember the daughter who had married far away, had not returned to her natal family in more than a decade, and had never been particularly favored while growing up. Yet they had arrived with letters and a carriage, intending to escort Gu Fangruo’s daughter, Song Zhiwei, to the capital.
Faced with such a stroke of good fortune, how could Song Qingya possibly refuse?
When Song Qingya earned the title of Tanhua in the imperial examinations, he let success go straight to his head. Within less than two years of serving as a capital official, he had offended nearly everyone around him. He had offended not only his aristocratic father-in-law but also his brother-in-law, his superiors at the Hanlin Academy, and even officials in the Ministry of Personnel.
Nearly ten years had passed. The superior who had once served at the Hanlin Academy had risen to become a Hanlin Academician. Though his father-in-law was dead, his eldest brother-in-law had inherited the title and still wielded real power, his influence as formidable as ever. Even a minor clerk in the Ministry of Personnel had become deeply entrenched in the ministry, building a thriving network of connections. Yet he alone remained trapped in remote provincial postings, transferred from one place to another, forever a mere seventh-rank official. As for returning to the capital, who knew how many years away that might be?
Only then did the once-proud, aloof man learn to bow his head to those in power. He finally realized he needed to curry favor with his wife’s family.
For Song Qingya, who lacked both connections and an excuse to approach them, Song Zhiwei had become the perfect bridge. Thus, he ordered her never to reveal the only blood tie she possessed that could link her to the family. No matter what, she was to remain in the Gu household. Otherwise, he was fully capable of digging up Gu Fangruo’s grave and killing her concubine mother.
Naturally, Song Qingya had not put it so bluntly. Instead, he said that Song Zhiwei should fulfill her filial duty to her late mother’s family on her mother’s behalf. He told her not to worry about matters at home. In the future, he would have his second wife arrange long-term offerings for Gu Fangruo at a Buddhist temple, regularly visit her grave, and ensure that incense and sacrifices were never lacking, so she would not become a lonely wandering spirit. As for her concubine mother, he promised to look after her well and cherish her, never allowing her to come to harm.
This was one reason the original Song Zhiwei desperately wanted to stay with the Gu family and regarded her cousin, Gu Ce’an, as so important.
To the present-day Song Zhiwei, however, such threats were little more than hot air. The dead could not come back to life anyway. So what if someone dug up a grave? Back in the modern world, people were cremated, electronic firecrackers were used, and funeral wreaths could even be rented and shared. Superstition had long been cast aside.
And as for her concubine mother being killed… Given that woman’s abilities, Song Zhiwei hardly needed to worry about her. Like a parasitic vine wrapping around stronger trees, she had undermined the lawful wife, Gu Fangruo, won over Old Madam Song, and borne Song Qingya two sons to carry on the family line. Even if Song Zhiwei died a hundred deaths, that woman still would not.
Song Zhiwei entered the room and, following her personal maid Lancao’s instructions, bowed formally first. “Greetings, Grandmother.”
She pressed her forehead to the floor before the old lady’s senior maid, Yun’er, helped her to her feet.
Madam Xu gave a slight nod and gestured for Song Zhiwei to come closer. When she did, the old woman looked her over carefully. Seeing that Song Zhiwei, who had only begun to put on a little weight after finally arriving in Shengjing, had grown thin again, she couldn’t help but sigh.
“How could you be so careless? Why did you go to the pond without anyone accompanying you? If Yue’er hadn’t happened to pass by and call for help, do you know how heartbroken your grandmother would have been?”
At the mention of Meng Qiyue’s name, Song Zhiwei’s lashes lowered slightly. After inheriting part of the original owner’s memories, she had also inherited many of her emotions. Naturally, however, she had no intention of complaining to Madam Xu. In these elders’ eyes, Meng Qiyue, who had been a frequent visitor since childhood and had practically grown up before them, was much closer to them and far more trustworthy than she was.
Meng Qiyue’s mother was Gu Fanghua, Madam Xu’s eldest daughter. As the eldest daughter-in-law of Duke Cheng Manor was frail and often ill, it was said that Gu Fanghua effectively managed the household affairs there. Holding a respected position in her husband’s family and cherished in her natal family as well, the children she bore naturally received great attention and affection.
Lowering her head, Song Zhiwei thought of the parents who had truly loved and cherished her, and of the friends she would never see again. A burning heat welled up behind her eyes.
Looking up, she said with both affection and sorrow, “It is your granddaughter’s fault for causing Grandmother to worry. While I was bedridden these past few days, I felt both pain and regret. I was afraid Mother would blame me. I haven’t even properly shown filial devotion to you yet, and I nearly made you, a white-haired elder, bury a black-haired younger…”
Madam Xu had long carried a delayed sense of guilt and love toward her second daughter. Hearing those words, and realizing that she could no longer clearly remember what her daughter had been like, a sharp ache surged through her heart. Her eyes soon reddened.
The two of them, who had only moments ago been polite strangers forcing courtesy upon one another, suddenly found themselves clutching handkerchiefs and weeping together.
Grief over the loss of the same person undoubtedly drew them closer. After that, Madam Xu no longer felt so unfamiliar with Song Zhiwei.
After all, this was the only child her second daughter had left behind. She had nearly lost her too.
Tightening her grip on Song Zhiwei’s hand, Madam Xu turned and glanced at Yun’er.
The quick-witted maid stepped forward immediately, carrying a small chest. It was surprisingly heavy. When she set it on the table, the tabletop trembled slightly from the impact.
Clutching her handkerchief, Song Zhiwei rose uncertainly. Under the old lady’s gentle smile, she watched as Yun’er opened the chest.
The chest contained three tiers. On the first lay a gold longevity lock attached to an exquisite gold necklace, gleaming brilliantly. The second tier held gold sycees fashioned into various decorative shapes: plum blossoms, crabapple blossoms, and writing brushes paired with ruyi motifs. They looked both delicate and luxurious. The third tier contained a thin stack of deeds.
Yun’er took out the documents and said, “Miss, these are the title deeds for a fabric shop, a cosmetics shop, and one hundred mu of fertile farmland on the outskirts of the capital.”
At a loss, Song Zhiwei looked to Madam Xu. “Grandmother…”
Smiling, Madam Xu reassured her. “I had a Daoist priest read your fortune. Your birth chart is light and vulnerable, so you must wear this longevity lock until the day you marry. As for those two shops, they were ready for you before you arrived. They’re merely meant for you to learn with. A young lady of a distinguished family ought to be skilled in both household management and handling finances. After all, when a wife is capable, a husband encounters fewer troubles. The more experience you gain managing affairs now, the smoother your household will run once you become mistress of your own home. After what you’ve gone through, your temperament has become steadier, much like your mother’s. It’s time for you to begin learning these things. Since you will one day marry out from this household, you must not bring dishonor upon the family’s traditions.”
Song Zhiwei pinched her handkerchief and thought this was basically training a future daughter-in-law for someone else’s family.
Seeing her lower her head shyly and accept the arrangement, Madam Xu took her hand again and asked what she usually did back in Qingzhou and whether she had received any education.
Song Zhiwei paused to recall the original owner’s interests.