The name Jiyun Hall was elegant, but it hardly seemed like the residence of an ordinary young lady.
Xu Shuyao asked Qiaowei and Yuzhu, but neither could explain. They said only that the place had long been unoccupied and that they did not know its former use.
Xu Shuyao did not press further—asking would change nothing. They were guests; could they choose their own lodgings? Still, since the courtyard was close to the outer court, she resolved to be cautious, staying indoors whenever possible.
Whether her aunt’s arrangement was intentional or not, it had already placed her in an awkward position. Xiao Jinrong’s attitude earlier made that clear.
Breakfast had been fetched from the mansion’s main kitchen by Huixiang at Nanny Zheng’s request: a plate of vegetable buns, two spring pancakes, and two bowls of millet porridge.
Xu Shuyao ate half a bowl of porridge and one bun and was full. Xu Shuheng ate little porridge but finished a pancake, then accepted the bun his sister handed him.
Though simple, the food was different from elsewhere—the cooks of the Duke’s mansion made even plain porridge thick, soft, and melting on the tongue.
After rinsing her mouth, Xu Shuyao remembered the gift from her Second Cousin and asked Qiaowei to bring the box. It was a small sandalwood case, worth at least two taels of silver by itself. Inside lay a translucent yellowish stone—cool and smooth to the touch.
Her eyes lit up. Was this not *Qingtian stone*, the rare variety known as “Lamp‑Light Freeze”? Named for its glow under light, it was prized for carving seals. No wonder Xiao Jinshan had wanted it—it was indeed a treasure.
Collectors of calligraphy and painting loved seals, especially rare ones like this. Xu Shuyao was no exception. Yet she had never been wealthy. Her father, a clean official, had a low salary, much of which supported the extended Xu family. After his death, her aunt by marriage tried to squeeze what little remained, believing even a dying camel was larger than a horse.
But compared to the stewards of the Duke’s mansion, her family’s resources were nothing. Qiaowei had mentioned that even the household stewards owned three‑courtyard homes in the capital.
Xu Shuyao thought of the thousand‑tael banknote her mother had left her—that was nearly her entire fortune. Her father had left inkstones and paintings, but those could not be sold. In this vast mansion, she and her brother would need silver, even to manage servants.
She was glad she had sold a few of her own paintings before leaving Huzhou. That secret source of income was too shocking to reveal. Even the steward who helped sell them only knew they were works of a free‑spirited master.
Just a few volumes had stirred a sensation in Huzhou, eventually fetching fifty taels apiece. She had sold them for ten taels each and now regretted not painting more. Here in the capital, she dared not draw openly before her maids. She sighed.
Nearby, Huixiang watched her new mistress holding the stone—sometimes delighted, sometimes sighing—and grew puzzled. A stone, in such a fine box, provoking such emotion? Surely it was no ordinary stone, but jade.
Huixiang had at least spent half a month in the Duke’s mansion, so she was not entirely without knowledge.
That evening, a servant from Jinhua Hall came to summon the siblings. Xu Shuyao had just finished supper and, after tidying herself, followed the maid outside.
Qiaowei, who knew the errand girl, leaned close and whispered: “Has Second Master returned to the mansion?”
The maid did not answer immediately. She glanced at the newly arrived cousin, noting her beauty, and recalling the rumors among the servants of Jinhua Hall. Not daring to conceal it, she even raised her voice slightly, as if to curry favor: “Indeed. Second Master has just finished his meal. Hearing that Miss Cousin and her brother had arrived, he sent me to call them for a meeting.”
Second Master Xiao? He was the second son of the late Duke. His mother had been the orphaned daughter of a fallen soldier, taken in by the Duke’s household. Having missed the age for marriage, she became a concubine in the mansion and passed away only a few years ago.
Second Master Xiao now served as a minor deputy commander in the South City Garrison, a seventh‑rank post. His duties were to maintain market order, fight fires, and aid in disasters. Such positions were typical for noble sons in the capital—honorable in name, but of little real power.
Only those like the eldest son, who commanded troops, or the eldest young master, Xiao Mo, who oversaw the Imperial Guards and held a near second‑rank office, truly wielded influence. Even Wang Shaowei, second son of Marquis Qingyuan, though only a fifth‑rank officer in the Imperial Guards, had authority to mobilize soldiers and was highly regarded.
Xu Shuyao listened carefully, and so did her younger brother Xu Shuheng. Their father had once passed the imperial examinations, and though busy with official duties, had not neglected his son’s studies. At seven, Xu Shuheng had already finished primers like *Three Character Classic* and *Thousand Character Text*, and was now beginning *The Analects*.
Since their father’s death, his tutor had returned home, and Xu Shuyao herself had taken over teaching. But this was no long‑term solution. Xu Shuheng would one day need to pursue the examinations and must enter a proper clan school.
Thinking of this, both siblings grew cautious about meeting Second Master Xiao. He had already removed his official robes and was drinking tea with his wife, Madam Chen.
The siblings entered and bowed respectfully. As a girl, Xu Shuyao was asked only a few questions about Huzhou and their journey. But her brother drew more attention. Second Master asked his age, what books he had read, and whether he had had a tutor.
When Xu Shuheng said he was studying *The Analects*, Second Master even tested him with a passage. Though the boy’s answer was imperfect, the elder was pleased. To him, a seven‑year‑old who had lost his father yet still pursued learning was commendable. With a wave of his hand, he declared: “Good. Tomorrow I’ll speak with the Shen family. You shall study at their clan school alongside Old Third’s son.”
Xu Shuheng rose to thank his uncle, and Xu Shuyao breathed a sigh of relief.
As he left, Second Master instructed his wife to fetch writing supplies for the boy and to assign a servant to carry his book bag. Madam Chen agreed readily. Her husband’s favor toward her nephew was, after all, a good thing.
Yet inwardly, she was unimpressed. At seven, who could say what the future held? Whether he would succeed was far from certain. Still, she could not help but think: this nephew was without support. If he did achieve success one day, would he not repay the aunt who sheltered him?