The Marchioness personally selected two maids and one matron. As soon as the three arrived at Banyue Pavilion, they set about teaching Shen Qingluo the proper rules of conduct.
Nanny Zhou was tall and thin, her narrow face perched on a frame like a bamboo pole. Lifting her sharp eyes, she scolded Shen Qingluo: “Miss, you are a young lady destined for marriage. The Madam only wishes the best for you—so that when you wed, your husband’s family will not find fault and disgrace the Marquis’s household…”
Shen Qingluo lounged casually at the table. With a flick of her hand, her little maid scattered a handful of golden melon seeds across the surface. They clattered noisily, cutting off Nanny Zhou’s words and leaving her staring in stunned silence.
“Nanny Zhou, will this be enough to keep you quiet?” Shen Qingluo asked, sipping her tea.
Nanny Zhou swallowed hard, momentarily at a loss. The inner quarters of the Marquis’s residence were under the Marchioness’s authority, and she was but her servant.
But Shen Qingluo was in no hurry. She spoke slowly: “You all know I’ve only just returned to the estate. I’m unfamiliar with the household, and my courtyard is short of hands. If I go asking outsiders for help, it will invite ridicule. Since you were sent by Mother, I can trust you.” Her gaze lifted to the three, her tone shifting: “Yet whether you can earn my trust—that depends on you.”
Before Nanny Zhou could respond, the maid Chunlan raised her hand:
“This servant has been in the residence for three years. I am willing to devote myself wholeheartedly to serving the young lady.”
At once, the maid Xiahe echoed: “I too am willing to serve the young lady with all my heart.”
The pile of golden seeds vanished in an instant. Nanny Zhou’s eyes burned red with regret. Just then, the little maid scattered another handful—more than before. Unable to resist, Nanny Zhou snatched them up. “This old servant will obey the young lady.”
Shen Qingluo set down her teacup and smiled. Money truly is a marvelous thing.
The three who had profited returned to the Marchioness with reports tailored to her liking: “The young lady is much more obedient now… she has cried a few times… she admits her mistakes…”
The Marchioness nodded. “Since she knows her faults, then three days from now, on the Buddha’s birthday, she shall accompany me to Baique Temple.”
Nanny Zhou smiled ingratiatingly. “The young lady grew up in a small place and has never seen the bustle of the capital. Once she does, she will surely understand your tender motherly heart.”
The Marchioness waved her hand. “Go down.”
Nanny Qian stepped forward with a bowl of bird’s nest. “Madam, don’t trouble yourself. Your health is what matters most.”
“How can I not worry?” the Marchioness sighed. “She is my own flesh and blood, yet she sides with outsiders.”
“You are right, Madam. The young lady does not know her place.”
“I gave her life—she ought to obey me in all things. Look at her since returning from Shanyang County—has she shown me even a shred of filial respect?” Her anger mounted. “When I bore her, it was a difficult birth. My vitality was drained, and for a long time I could not attend to the Marquis. That was when those two concubines seized the chance to win his favor. If not for my womb proving its worth—by chance giving me Qingyi—I might have been cast aside entirely.”
Seeing tears fall, Nanny Qian quickly consoled her: “You and the Marquis were wed young; your bond is deep. Those concubines can never compare to the place you hold in his heart.”
The Marchioness shook her head. “I know that well enough. But still, I cannot bear the sight of Shen Qingluo. Each time I see her, I remember those two women’s chambers lit bright through the night.”
Nanny Qian spoke softly: “You must think more of Second Miss. In all of Shengjing, our Second Missy is truly one in a thousand.”
At these words, the Marchioness’s expression finally eased. Pride lit her face. “Qingyi was raised by me personally. Naturally, no one else can compare.”
On the eighth day of the fourth month, carriages and horses were prepared at the Marquis’s gates.
Madam Wei, the Marchioness, Second Madam Shen, Third Madam Shen, as well as Shen Qingyi, led several legitimate and concubine-born daughters to accompany them.
The grandmother’s three-month mourning period had ended, yet Shen Qingluo still wore plain garments, her attire more austere than her sisters’.
Seeing this, Madam Wei complained to the Marchioness: “It was Madam Li herself who insisted on moving to the old estate, saying that matters of life and death had nothing to do with the Marquis’s household. And yet, here we are, forced to keep mourning for her.”
The Marchioness replied: “Mother, rest assured. Qingluo’s betrothal is already settled. In a few days, once the two families exchange formal gifts, even if she knows nothing of proper conduct, she cannot afford to bring misfortune upon her husband’s house.”
Madam Wei patted her hand and smiled: “You and I both come from noble families. A merchant’s daughter can never be compared to one raised in the Marquis’s household.” Her gaze swept over Shen Qingyi and the others with satisfaction.
The Marchioness said nothing. In her heart, she despised Shen Qingluo for disgracing her.
The women did not bother to avoid Shen Qingluo as they spoke—only lowered their voices. Though she could not catch every word, she knew well enough it was nothing good.
She climbed into the carriage on her own. From behind came the Marchioness’s voice: “Ah Luo, sit with Mother. I have some words to say to you.”
Once outside the city, the road was clogged—carriages lined up every few paces along the winding mountain path, progress slow.
Madam Wei and the Marchioness were both devout Buddhists. At the mention of Baique Temple, reverence filled the Marchioness’s face as she admonished Shen Qingluo about the temple’s rules.
She added: “Today’s gathering is full of the wives of high officials. Foremost among them is Madam Ye. You must not offend her.”
Shen Qingluo gave her assent. She knew this all too well.
The Marchioness continued: “And also the Zhong family, of the Minister of Justice. Madam Zhong is the match I have in mind for your elder brother. The Zhong household is respectable, and Miss Zhong is gentle and virtuous—well suited to him.”
Indeed, Zhong Ling had married into the Marquis’s household. She was the only one there who had ever truly treated Shen Qingluo with sincerity.
Before Shen Qingluo’s own marriage, Zhong Ling had combed her hair, tears streaming as she said: “You and Lu Yan have known each other long, and you have given him your whole heart. That is a wife’s duty. But, sister… the Lu family marrying you is already reaching above their station. Lu Yan’s pride is too great—this is both a blessing and a curse. A man’s self-respect comes first. If you stand above him, he will press you down, tame you, cage you like a bird.”
With a sigh, Zhong Ling spoke earnestly: “At all times, preserving yourself is what matters most.”
At that time, Shen Qingluo was immersed in the joy of soon becoming a wife, dreaming only of a blissful life with Lu Yan. How could she have taken Zhong Ling’s words to heart?
Three years into the marriage, Lu Yan grew increasingly cold toward her. Only then did Zhong Ling’s warning strike her like a sudden revelation. When she wished to confide her sorrows to Zhong Ling, news arrived from the Marquis’s household: Zhong Ling was dead—hanged from the beam of the main chamber.
Shen Qingluo was stunned. She sent people to investigate and learned the truth: her elder brother had taken three concubines and even kept a mistress outside.
When Zhong Ling was pregnant, that mistress appeared at the gates with a three-year-old son. The shock drove Zhong Ling into a difficult labor; her daughter was born lifeless. These matters never reached the outside world. The Marquis’s household concealed them well, hiding every stain beneath its glittering plaque.
“Did you hear what Mother said?” The Marchioness’s voice cut through Shen Qingluo’s wandering thoughts, displeased at her distraction.
Shen Qingluo nodded. “I heard.”
With the admonitions finished, the Marchioness turned to business. She spoke of how, at the end of last year’s heavy snow, Baique Temple had taken in many orphans bereft of parents and home. Madam Ye had led the way, donating a thousand taels of silver. “Though our family cannot match the Ye household, we must not let others laugh at us.” She did not spell it out, but her hand stretched forward—an unspoken demand that Shen Qingluo was expected to understand.