On August 30th, the last day of the month, it also happened to be Xiao Mo’s day of rest.
Early in the morning, the maids Zhichun and Zhixia brought clothing, shoes, and washing utensils to wait outside Mingzhe Hall.
Soon, Xiao Mo’s personal guard hurried over.
Zhichun, the senior maid, lowered her eyes. A voice from inside called, “Enter,” and the maids filed in.
Xiao Mo, dressed in a white under‑robe, swiftly took the garments from their hands and put them on, then slipped into his shoes. Two other maids stepped forward with a copper basin and towel. After his washing was complete, everyone withdrew.
Seated in the grand chair, Xiao Mo asked: “What is it? Speak.”
The guard, Wuming, replied: “The Shen family has sent a visiting card today. Madam Ruan and the eldest young lady will come shortly. The Duchess asks that you be present.”
At his words, the air seemed to chill. As Xiao Mo’s close guard, Wuming knew more than most.
The heir’s attitude at the recent wedding banquet had been clear, yet the Duchess and Old Madam still wished to pursue the marriage.
Two years ago, though the heir had said before the Old Madam that he would follow her arrangements, Wuming knew those words meant little. If the Old Madam truly pressed the matter, the heir would find ways to obstruct it.
At that time, the Shen daughter was only fourteen. The Old Madam had merely asked, without acting on the betrothal, not even exchanging birth charts. Thus, the heir had no need to concern himself.
“Understood. You may go,” Xiao Mo said.
At Jiyun Hall, Xu Shuyao was sewing autumn clothes for her brother. He had grown quickly, and last year’s garments were now tight, restricting his movements. She dared not ask her aunt why new clothes had not arrived, and thought to make them herself.
Just as she cut the fabric, a maid from the Duchess arrived—Jinping. She did not enter, but called Xu Shuyao out: “The Duke’s mansion has guests. Madam asks that Cousin come to accompany them.”
Xu Shuyao agreed. Nanny Zheng invited Jinping in for tea, but she declined: “No, I must also go to Miss Liu’s courtyard.” She hurried off.
Xu Shuyao and Nanny Zheng exchanged puzzled looks. The Duchess was far above them; never before had she sent for Xu Shuyao. Yet now, because of new guests, she was summoned.
Surprised, Xu Shuyao quickly changed into a pale apricot jacket and had Qiaowei redo her hair before leaving.
Since Jinping had not said where the guests were, Xu Shuyao followed custom and went to Songhe Hall. Her guess was correct.
Inside, the Old Madam was speaking with Madam Ruan, while the Duchess sat beside them. Second Madam Chen and Third Madam Liu were also present. Xiao Jinshan and Shen Jingshu leaned together, discussing the latest autumn fashions in the capital.
Xiao Jinshan, though only the third daughter of the Duke’s mansion and born of a concubine, had no brothers. She therefore sought to ingratiate herself with Shen Jingshu, who might become her elder brother’s wife.
One eager to please, the other willing to accept—the atmosphere was harmonious.
All those who should be present were there. Those who should not, or did not wish to be, were absent.
How did the conversation suddenly turn to the two cousins living temporarily in the Duke’s mansion? It began with Shen Jingshu’s polite exchange with Madam Wang.
At the wedding banquet of Second Miss Xiao, Shen Jingshu had been rebuffed by Xiao Mo. Though now she was chatting with Third Miss Xiao Jinshan, her mind drifted back to a remark she had overheard that day: “The two cousins living here are truly beautiful. If not for their lower birth, who else would stand a chance?”
She could not recall who had said it, but the words had lodged in her mind, resurfacing now word for word. She remembered glancing up at the banquet and meeting the radiant face of Miss Xu, her carefree smile stirring an inexplicable unease.
So when Madam Wang praised her, Shen Jingshu’s heart shifted: “Aunt, don’t only praise me. When I last visited your mansion, I saw two younger sisters of remarkable beauty.”
Madam Wang was puzzled, but Xiao Jinshan said: “You mean Cousin Xu and Cousin Liu?”
“One of them is surnamed Liu? I only knew one was surnamed Xu. That day, with so many eyes around, I couldn’t approach them. I still regret it,” Shen Jingshu replied sweetly, with a touch of wistfulness.
The Old Madam and Madam Ruan, who had been conversing, paused to listen. “Jingshu, who are you speaking of?”
“Of the two talented cousins living here in your mansion,” she explained.
Madam Ruan teased: “They each have their own courtyards. If you’re bored, you can go with your cousin Jinshan to visit them.”
Madam Wang, recalling her morning instructions to her son and fearing he might come and not find them, quickly said: “Isn’t it simple if you wish to see them?” She then ordered Jinping to fetch the girls.
Xu Shuyao, approaching Songhe Hall, hesitated when she heard voices inside. Suddenly, a tall figure blocked her path. She lifted her eyes and met Xiao Mo’s piercing gaze.
At first, she was startled, but recognizing the heir of the mansion, she felt oddly at ease. “Heir.”
Xiao Mo studied her for a long moment.
Xu Shuyao stood calmly under his scrutiny. Surely the heir would not be swayed by mere beauty. She sensed he was not a man easily distracted by appearances.
It was the first time Xiao Mo had truly examined this cousin. Her apricot‑colored gown gave her a gentle warmth; her skin was porcelain‑white, her neck slender, the fine down visible in the sunlight. Her eyes met his directly, clear as autumn water, their corners slightly upturned with a hint of charm.
He recalled seeing her on the mountain days before, and his lips curved faintly, half‑smile, half‑mockery.
“You’re from the second branch? Heading into Songhe Hall?”
Xu Shuyao nodded, feeling a strange unease.
“Then tell my mother I’ve left. The emperor has summoned me to the palace—I’ll return tonight.”
Before she could respond, he was gone.
Watching his disappearing figure, Xu Shuyao felt a surge of frustration, recalling the coarse curses she had once heard on the streets of Huzhou.