Sister Lian had long forbidden her from associating with Liu Jiaojiao, yet she secretly continued corresponding with her behind everyone’s back.
Madam Lin had carefully sealed off the entire Earl’s mansion and kept an eye on that worthless scholar, yet even the most meticulous plans can have a blind spot—she hadn’t expected an outsider to know about this.
If Liu Jiaojiao were to leak the matter, wouldn’t all their efforts be ruined, catching them completely off guard?
“What other hidden details are there?” Madam Lin asked urgently, hoping Lan could come to her senses quickly. “Think of your elder sister, think of your newborn niece—act now, while it’s still possible to make amends.”
Lan’s eyes slowly turned toward her stepmother. Her hollow gaze gradually regained some life. Though her voice still trembled, she finally explained clearly:
“…That poetry scroll was sent by her. That scoundrel was introduced to me through her. That night, it was Liu Jiaojiao who helped bring him over and taught me to open the back gate of the theater… I was foolish, thinking she had my best interests at heart…”
At this point, if she still didn’t realize it was a trap, then she truly was naive.
The pale-faced scholar was nothing but a beast in human form, and Liu Jiaojiao, her so-called “intimate friend,” was hardly a kind soul either—likely a smiling, venomous scorpion.
“What a scheming little minx! She’s learned all the poisonous tricks from the Liu household’s inner court, shifting blame onto others—how utterly vile her intentions are!” Madam Lin shouted.
“From now on, you need to remember this lesson.” Saying this, she strode out, heading to the Liu mansion to clean up the mess.
…
The Liu family had once held a title, but by this generation it had fallen below that of an earl. Now they only had the shell of a mansion; even the signboard had been removed.
The male heirs were incompetent, and their wealth was limited. Instead, tales of the mistress and concubines in the backhouse ran rampant throughout the capital, inviting ridicule.
When Madam Lin hurriedly reached the Liu mansion and notified the household, she learned that Liu Jiaojiao had already gone to the Fan Garden for today’s chrysanthemum-viewing event. Her heart sank, a bad premonition forming. She couldn’t return home to reorganize; she went straight to the garden.
…
The autumn sky was clear, and chrysanthemums in the Fan Garden were in full bloom.
As with the early summer Six Arts contest, many young ladies and gentlemen from prominent families attended this chrysanthemum viewing.
Madam Lin had just entered and hadn’t yet found Liu Jiaojiao when curious noblewomen intercepted her, asking, “We heard there was a treacherous servant harming her mistress at the Earl’s mansion. Has the culprit been caught? How was she dealt with?”
Madam Lin’s mind wasn’t on this, and she initially tried to give a cursory reply. But after repeated questioning, she said, “It was the two maids who served Miss Lan. I am to blame—my daughter had been too generous, giving them extra money every month. This month it was cut off, and their hearts turned malicious… They have been sent to the authorities for punishment. Thank you all for your concern.”
They asked again if Lan’s health had improved.
“She just sprained her ankle. After some rest, she’ll be able to go out again.”
In truth, the women weren’t concerned about the “evil servant harming her mistress.” They were suspicious of the Pei family suddenly sealing the mansion and investigating thoroughly. They asked to probe Madam Lin, for if the matter were trivial, why would the mansion be sealed?
Finally free of the questions, Madam Lin saw a commotion ahead—some noble girl seemed to be in a quarrel.
Coincidentally, the girl was Liu Jiaojiao.
Liu Jiaojiao had run into Miss You of the Shengchanghou Mansion, with whom she had always been at odds. Miss You sneered: “After the Cold Dew, the weather has turned chilly. Why is Sister Liu still wearing the summer dress from the Six Arts contest? Is she trying to imitate autumn chrysanthemums—blooming in the cold, alluring in fragility?”
Liu Jiaojiao’s anger rose, but she could not retort, so she swallowed her anger, keeping it bottled up inside.
Nearby, a well-informed young lady tried to smooth things over, pretending to flatter Liu Jiaojiao: “I heard you plan to become the young mistress of General Situ’s household?” Though whispered, those nearby could hear.
Liu Jiaojiao’s face softened, and she shyly smiled, “I am just a girl—I don’t know such matters. I follow my father’s arrangements.” She had essentially confirmed it.
In General Situ’s household, the only eligible son was Situ Er.
Situ Er was famously rakish, and families of merit would not marry their daughters to him. But for the declining Liu family, he was an ideal match.
Miss You, dissatisfied with a minor quarrel, continued: “Everyone in the capital knows that since the Six Arts contest, Situ Er has fallen under Miss Lan of the Earl Jingchuan’s pomegranate skirt… Even if such a match was unwanted, it hardly concerns Sister Liu.” Her words offended three families at once.
If the earlier words were merely a slight insult, these were daggers to Liu Jiaojiao’s heart.
Her eyes blazed with fury, wishing she could tear Miss You apart.
No one else had the words to intervene.
Madam Lin ran through the crowd. She had sensed trouble brewing and arrived just in time to see Liu Jiaojiao speaking with feigned calm:
“My dear Miss Lan, with her ethereal beauty, naturally attracts admirers. Even the young scholar Wu Langzi has written countless passionate notes for her… Oh, have I said too much?”
Everyone nearby heard this.
The surrounding crowd fell silent, every rustle of clothing audible. With the Earl’s mansion recently sealed off, and Liu Jiaojiao’s words implying secret dealings, many began to speculate. Half were already convinced.
Outsiders came only to watch the drama—they had no loyalty to the Jingchuan Earl and would not risk speaking for the Pei family.
Madam Lin, standing in the autumn wind, felt helpless and desolate, arriving slightly too late. But she quickly masked her expression to avoid revealing anything that could confirm Lan’s secret.
Madam Lin then exploded with rage, behaving like a shrew, grabbing Liu Jiaojiao by the hair, scratching and clawing her, shouting:
“A wicked little girl! You dare to slander a respectable family, trying to ruin Lan and the Pei family!”
It was unladylike.
But what else could she do? Only this could protect her daughter’s reputation—even at the cost of her own dignity.
Liu Jiaojiao, with a venomous heart since childhood, continued:
“I speak no falsehoods. On that night after Cold Dew, in your Pei family’s theater, Miss Lan threw her handkerchief to a man in white clothes. If that isn’t private interaction, what is? Paper cannot conceal fire; if you did it, don’t fear being seen…”
“Is this the handkerchief you mean?” A loud voice rang from the crowd—defiant and unyielding. It was Situ Yang.
He wore a black patterned robe with a red sash. Tall and upright, he looked heroic. His hair was slightly messy, giving him a rakish air.
Situ Yang walked calmly into the crowd, holding a honey-pink handkerchief embroidered with an orchid.
Those familiar with Pei Ruo Lan could recognize it as hers.
Without a doubt.
What had started as a conflict involving Situ Yang now seemed curious—Liu Jiaojiao’s claim of a secret exchange matched the handkerchief in Situ Yang’s hand.
Liu Jiaojiao froze. Though she hadn’t seen Pei Ruo Lan meet Wu Langzi that night, she had led him to the theater. Could there be a mistake?
Situ Yang raised his head, looking disdainful:
“Miss Lan and I are well-matched. My family will soon formally propose. That she gave me a handkerchief—what’s wrong with that? Even I, rough as I am, know this isn’t improper. As for Miss Liu, spying and spreading rumors—what is your intention?”
“There was no scholar, no secret exchange—there’s no need to ruin a reputation,” he continued. “I’ve said before, I dislike sharp-tongued women, preferring those who quietly sew on fabric.”
He spared her the humiliation of saying, “I would never marry you anyway.”
At this moment, the Liu matriarch, raised from concubine to principal wife, hurried forward to claim it was a misunderstanding and tried to whisk Liu Jiaojiao away.
“Stop.” Madam Lin straightened her clothes. “You slandered someone’s name and think you can walk away? Children without mothers to guide them have no sense of propriety.” Her words struck both Liu Jiaojiao and the matriarch.
Liu Jiaojiao, already humiliated by Situ Yang, bowed slightly to Madam Lin, whispering an apology, and tried to leave.
“Does the world hand out such favors?” Madam Lin shouted. “By noon tomorrow, the Liu family must deliver the formal apology ceremony, parading around the capital, then come to the mansion to apologize—or else, even if the case reaches the Ministry of Justice, the Earl’s mansion will not relent.”
…
The next day, the Liu family was forced to present the grand apology. Lan, deeply hurt, refused to see her.
She called through the door: “We were once in the same plight. Why are you so cruel?”
“Same plight? What a joke.” Liu Jiaojiao laughed cruelly. “Have you ever stood properly day and night? Have you ever lacked clothing in winter or summer? Have you ever gone empty-handed during festivals? Miss Lan probably doesn’t even know how to write ‘compassion’—how could we be in the same plight?”
“You liked scholars, and your stepmother arranged them for you; you wanted a meritorious family, and your grandmother took you to inspect every household…”
“Situ Er’s reputation may not be perfect, but he was the best match I could reach. That was already humble enough, yet I still had to let a fool like you surpass me—how could I accept that?”
“The apology has been delivered. I hope Miss Lan sees clearly from now on, and I wish you and Situ Er a long, faithful life together.”
The knife from outsiders cuts without mercy, painfully real. Lan curled in her bed, recalling the day her elder sister married, the slanting summer sunlight in the room… It wasn’t the bridal sedan that took her sister away—it was herself, pushing her sister aside.
Her stepmother fought in the garden to protect the Pei family’s reputation and was left bruised, unable to leave the house. Yet Lan had been safe in her room, listening to apologies… She had asked Liu Jiaojiao such foolish questions.
Same plight?
Liu Jiaojiao was right—Lan had never known what “compassion” truly meant. She was not pitiable; she only pitied herself.
Lan no longer recognized the girl in the mirror.
…
A month later, the matter at the Earl’s mansion had gradually settled, scarcely mentioned. Sister Lian had recovered from childbirth.
Lan went out for the first time to visit her elder sister.
“Has your leg healed from the fall?” Lian asked calmly.
“Yes, yes, it’s all better.” Lan’s voice had softened, lacking its former sharpness.
“Though it looks healed, the muscles and bones under the skin may still be weak. Take good care of it. If there’s nothing else, don’t go out.” “Yes, I’ll listen to you,” Lan replied.
Lan stared at the floor, lost for words. Once, she could chatter endlessly with her sister; now she could not utter a single word.
The little one on the bed had woken, waving her tiny hands, cute and obedient.
“Auntie will hold Xing’er,” Lan said, reaching out.
But Sister Lian was quicker, picking up Xing’er first and saying to Lan: “The child is small and shy. Let me do it.”