Whether she contributed or not, only Madam Wei herself knew. As tensions rose, the Marchioness grew displeased that Shen Qingluo stirred trouble the moment she returned. Suppressing her impatience, she offered a few words of persuasion. Inwardly, she regretted not drowning this unfilial girl back then.
Second Madam Shen chimed in: “Ah Luo must be tired. Household affairs are many, and she is still unfamiliar with them. In time, she will understand.”
Third Madam Shen, frail and timid, echoed her sister-in-law. The rest looked at Shen Qingluo with eyes full of disdain, disgust, and scorn.
Even her two legitimate elder brothers remained silent, treating her as though she were a stranger who had mistakenly wandered into the Marquis’s residence.
When dinner was prepared, the Marchioness did not invite Shen Qingluo to join. Instead, she instructed Nanny Qian: “Take Ah Luo back to her quarters.”
Shen Qingluo withdrew obediently. No one tried to stop her. As she passed Lu Yan, she glanced at him. His gaze, however, was fixed on Shen Qingyi, filled with infatuation and tenderness.
Shen Qingluo walked straight out of Mingde Hall. She paused in the courtyard, staring at the hall that now felt utterly unfamiliar. The pear trees her grandmother once planted to bloom in spring had been replaced with crabapple blossoms. Not a trace of her grandmother remained. Before the age of ten, Mingde Hall had belonged to her grandmother. Now, it was a nest usurped.
Her face cold, Shen Qingluo stepped out of the courtyard.
Following Nanny Qian, she arrived at Banyue Pavilion. A tree of withered branches stretched over the wall, welcoming back its mistress—one who bore the title of the legitimate eldest daughter but not the fate of one.
Pushing open the gate, a stale breath of air rushed out.
The courtyard had been tidied, but only carelessly. The furnishings were placed without thought. In a grand household, every room should embody its own harmony of heaven and earth—yet here, all was disorder.
The courtyard before her eyes was cluttered, its porcelain the most ordinary kind of pottery. The vase and screen meant to symbolize peace and safety were missing one piece, and the incense burner held no trace of fragrance.
Nanny Qian smiled and said: “This was originally the young lady’s courtyard. In the past, there were few things here, so Madam thoughtfully added many and even had it tidied up. Young lady, rest easy living here. Whatever is lacking, just say the word.”
Watching the old servant waiting eagerly for her to speak, Shen Qingluo knew it was a trap.
All these years, Nanny Wang had sent no shortage of reports to the Marquis’s household, claiming Shen Qingluo was willful and quick to make trouble when things displeased her.
A room like this—without obvious faults—was already considered a favor. If she asked for more, word would spread among the servants, and she would be branded as difficult.
Her father already disliked her, remembering that she had been raised by her grandmother, and would accuse her of being shallow-eyed and fond of extravagance.
At that point, her mother would step in to mediate, saying a few kind words on her behalf, and Shen Qingluo would be expected to feel grateful.
But Shen Qingluo remembered well: her elder brother was soon to marry, and the betrothal gifts were no small expense.
Time passed in silence. Shen Qingluo said nothing, her gaze calm and distant. Nanny Qian’s heart gave a jolt. “Young lady… are you dissatisfied?”
Shen Qingluo’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Quite satisfied. Please thank Mother for me.”
Nanny Qian: “……”
“Is there anything else you wish to say?”
“No, no more.”
However unwilling, Nanny Qian could only withdraw from the courtyard.
Nanny Bai, unable to bear the slighting atmosphere that filled the room, wiped away her tears. “How could this compare to Sancha Courtyard where the young lady lived in the old estate…”
Shancha Courtyard had been arranged by her grandmother’s own hands. From the largest tables and chairs to the smallest pillows and quilts, every item had passed under her grandmother’s discerning eye before being given to her.
Shen Qingluo lowered her head. She missed her grandmother too.
“The young lady has eaten little and slept poorly all along the journey, her face pale. Yet the Marchioness asked one question and showed no further concern, not even inviting her to stay for supper…”
Douzi tugged at her mother’s sleeve and whispered, “Don’t say more, Nanny. The young lady cries easily.”
Nanny Bai quickly fell silent, apologetic. “It was this old servant who spoke wrongly. Miss, please don’t take it to heart. Perhaps the Marchioness was considerate of your fatigue and deliberately let you return to rest first.”
Shen Qingluo lifted her head. The sorrow in her eyes was gone. “I am not saddened by what she does.” She sat down and gestured for Nanny Bai to sit as well. “This room is indeed the one I once lived in. In Shengjing, I am considered an ill omen. To my father and the others, this neglect is already a form of indulgence.”
Then she revealed her mother’s true intent: “She covets the silver in my purse, yet refuses to lower her head to ask me. So she contrives every means to hold me in check, forcing me to offer it up with both hands—and still thank her for it.” Her eyes turned dark as ink. “I will not let her have her way.”
After a hasty sweep of the rooms, the few servants collapsed into sleep, exhausted.
That night, Shen Zheng returned from drinking with colleagues. Hearing from the steward that his eldest daughter had come back, he asked only one question: “Did she go to Mingde Hall to pay respects to Grandmother?”
The steward nodded. “She did.”
Shen Zheng said, “That is well.” After a few steps, he added, “She grew up… elsewhere. The greatest fear is that she will lose all sense of propriety, all the dignity of a noble-born lady.”
As a son, he could not even bring himself to utter the word “Mother.”
The steward murmured assent.
Shen Zheng strode into the main courtyard.
The Marchioness had just lain down, but rose again to serve her husband, attending to him until he was comfortable. Only then did she speak of what had transpired in Mingde Hall.
“Is it true?”
“A whole room of people saw it. I don’t know how Qingluo learned the news.”
Shen Zheng’s expression shifted several times. To study at the Ye family academy was a privilege countless people in Shengjing begged for—and Ye Huaijin was his superior. Even a few words of acquaintance could set him apart among his peers. He had not expected that the mother he was unwilling to mention had, in fact, helped him. Remembering how she had doted on him in life, he felt, for once, a flicker of guilt.
“This matter’s truth is uncertain. But the Wei family indeed has someone in the Ministry of Personnel. The Marquis has sat in this position for many years—if he wishes to rise higher, he must rely on his mother.”
At the Marchioness’s words, Shen Zheng’s brief pang of guilt vanished in an instant. His career was the only thing that mattered.
“You are right. Tomorrow, remind Qingluo. She must not act willfully and continue offending Mother.”
“The Marquis speaks true.”
The lamp was blown out, and the two lay down to rest.
The next morning, Shen Qingluo went to the main courtyard to pay her respects. Her parents were taking breakfast, with Shen Qingyi nestled close beside them. Concubine Mei and Concubine Wu attended at their side.
In front of Shen Zheng, the Marchioness spoke to Shen Qingluo with unusual tenderness: “Seven years ago, I never wished to send you away. Since you left, I have thought of you day and night, and your younger sister often asks after her elder sister…” She collapsed into Shen Zheng’s arms, her eyes rimmed red, her pitiful motherly demeanor stirring his sympathy. He soothed her gently.
Shen Qingyi wiped her tears as well: “Whenever I hear our younger sisters call me ‘elder sister,’ I think of you, eldest sister. In a place like Shanyang County, you must have suffered greatly.”
Mother and daughter performed their act in perfect harmony. With faces so alike, their tears were more alluring than their smiles.
Shen Qingluo listened with growing distaste, forcing herself to endure. “I lived well in Shanyang County. If Mother pities me, then allow me to set up a small Buddha hall here in the estate so that I may fulfill my filial duty to Grandmother.”
The words “filial duty” struck Shen Zheng like a slap across the face. His eyes flashed with anger as he rebuked her for being thoughtless.
The Marchioness stared at Shen Qingluo, hoping to glimpse some trace of the girl who once relied on her. But all she saw was cold indifference. Irritated, she said: “Ah Luo, from now on, do not speak again of Shanyang County or its people.”
Her gaze shifted to Nanny Bai, who stood behind Shen Qingluo, filled with disdain. “You have too few servants at your side. I will choose a few more for you, and they shall teach you the proper rules of the Marquis’s household.”