Shen Qingluo received praise. She stood beside Shen Qingyi, the two sisters like twin blossoms.
Marchioness noticed that Madam Zhong was unmoved and guessed it must have been the incident at Baique Temple that left her displeased. She decided to approach through Zhong Ling.
“Ling’er, you haven’t met my Luo yet, have you? Perfect timing—let Luo and Yi take you for a stroll in the garden.”
Zhong Ling agreed.
Shen Qingluo, who had been longing for a chance to meet her, followed behind Shen Qingyi.
The Marquis residence’s garden was personally overseen by Marchioness; flowers bloomed in profusion, filling the air with fragrance.
Refreshments were set out in the pavilion. Shen Qingyi and Zhong Ling were quite familiar with each other, their friendship dating back to childhood.
“Elder Sister Zhong is a year older than our eldest sister,” Shen Qingyi explained to Shen Qingluo. She added, “Big Brother often says Sister Zhong is wonderful. He even remembers that she loves osmanthus cakes, and often has them made and sent to his study.”
Zhong Ling lowered her head, her ears tinged with red.
Shen Qingluo’s heart gave a sudden jolt. She had thought Zhong Ling’s marriage to her elder brother was arranged by their parents. But now it seemed clear—Shen Chang’an, handsome and refined, had won her willingly.
How could one stop Zhong Ling from leaping into this fire pit?
“Elder Brother has the best temper. Father praises him as diligent, capable of bearing the weight of the Marquis household,” Shen Qingyi said.
“Elder Brother will inherit the Marquis estate. If you marry him, you’ll enter as the Young Madam of the Marquis household—one day, the future Marchioness.
Shen Qingluo, catching the implication, sneered.
Zhong Ling’s eyes glimmered, her smile reserved yet radiant.
Half an hour later, a maid came to summon Zhong Ling—Madam Zhong was preparing to leave the estate.
Zhong Ling bid the two farewell. Shy by nature, her voice was soft:
“Qingyi, Qingluo, thank you for your hospitality.”
Turning to Shen Qingluo, she added gently: “Qingluo has just returned to the capital—we must gather often.”
Shen Qingyi winked at her playfully: “Sister Zhong will have plenty of chances to see us in the future. Just don’t grow tired of us then.”
“How could I…” Realizing what Shen Qingyi meant, Zhong Ling broke off, her cheeks flushing crimson.
Madam Zhong, seeing her daughter’s expression, frowned.
Once inside the carriage, Madam Zhong asked: “What did Qingyi say to you?”
Zhong Ling recounted everything, word for word.
Her daughter’s heart was written plainly across her face, and Madam Zhong had been worrying over this very matter these past days. She wanted her daughter to be happy, yet also to live a simple life.
“Ling’er, it is not that your mother wishes to stop you from marrying the one you love,” Madam Zhong said. “Shurong was born into a noble family and has long been close to me. I once thought that if you married into her household, she would surely not make things difficult for you.”
“But how many grand houses look splendid on the outside, while within they are already rotten?” she sighed. “A family that lets concubines overstep the wife—can such a household ever be simple?”
Zhong Ling, ever optimistic, replied: “That was the older generation’s matter. Isn’t Uncle Shen now treating Aunt Shurong very well?”
“You are still young and do not understand. To judge a family, one must look at three generations. The Marquis estate runs deep; I fear you will not be able to manage it.”
Madam Zhong did not press the point. In her heart, she still regarded Lu Shurong as a sister. “This is not urgent. Let me inquire further into Shen Chang’an’s character.”
Meanwhile, in the Marquis household, the Marchioness was delighted to hear from Shen Qingyi about Zhong Ling’s attitude: “Suxin dotes on her daughter, and she and I have been close for many years. As long as your elder brother makes no grave mistake, she will surely agree.”
She then sent word to Shen Chang’an: whatever happened in the inner courtyard must be kept tightly sealed—under no circumstances should it spread beyond.
“If word gets out, the Marquis will surely lash him with the whip.”
Liuli acknowledged and went out.
“Once Zhong Ling is married, your elder brother will no longer have to remain a lowly *Junior Supervisor of the Directorate of Armaments*, a sixth-rank post with no future.”
The Three Departments, Six Ministries, and Nine Courts—so many fat positions with real power.
The Marchioness dreamed of placing her sons in high office, extending the Marquis household’s glory for another hundred years. She said: “Everyone calls me Marchioness, yet I hold no imperial patent. I cannot even enter the palace.” All her life, she had envied Madam Lu, wife of the Grand Minister—graced with a first-rank patent, radiant with honor.
“Mother, don’t worry. When I marry into a good family, I will win you a patent,” Shen Qingyi nestled against her mother’s shoulder.
The Marchioness stroked her back. How could a married daughter win her mother an imperial title? Yet she laughed, finding her youngest daughter’s words soothing all the same.
“No matter what, I must find a noble household for my Qingyi, so that you will be admired all your life.”
Mother and daughter were speaking in confidence when Nanny Qian entered quietly, whispering: “Madam, it is done.”
The Marchioness rose. She had meant to send Shen Qingyi back to her own quarters, but Shen Qingyi seemed to know what she intended and followed close behind.
“Since Eldest Sister returned, I haven’t once gone to Banyue Pavilion to see her,” Shen Qingyi said.
So the Marchioness let her come along.
Shen Qingluo was in the courtyard, reviewing the Marquis household’s past practices for summer garments. For the maids, two sets each was manageable. The difficulty lay with the masters.
The Marquis household had three branches, three wives. Though not born of the same mother, they had grown up together, and Shen Zheng cared generously for his two younger brothers.
Take the Second Branch: Third Miss and Fourth Miss. The third was legitimate-born, the fourth a concubine’s child—but Fourth Miss’s mother was Shen Tai’s most favored concubine.
Fourth Miss competed with Third Miss in everything. If she fell short, she would make a scene. Shen Tai always sided with her, while Second Madam Chen, fiery in temper, ensured every quarrel was known to all.
In the end, the blame always fell upon the Marchioness, the household’s steward.
This year, the thankless task had been handed to Shen Qingluo. The Marchioness had done it deliberately. It was a chain of stratagems.
The first move, Shen Qingluo had already broken. The second move…
“Where is your young mistress?” The Marchioness’s voice rang out from outside.
Chunlan and Xiahe were sweeping the courtyard. Chunlan answered that the young mistress was inside.
The Marchioness swept in, her presence overwhelming. Coldly she demanded: “Ah Luo, where is the brocade I gave you?”
Shen Qingluo rose, meeting her mother’s gaze calmly. “I made it into a gown, Mother. You’ve seen it.”
“I *have* seen it—and I told you, today we are entertaining guests. It is your first time meeting several ladies; you must dress with grandeur to show respect. And you? You pay lip service while defying me!” The Marchioness’s anger flared.
“Mother,” Shen Qingluo’s voice softened, “the gown was accidentally soiled. I feared you would be saddened, so I did not wear it.”
The Marchioness turned pale. “That was a gift from the palace—an imperial bestowal!” Her disappointment was sharp: “Even Qingyi I could not bear to give it to. I kept it only for you. Yet you did not cherish it. To damage an imperial gift—if word spreads, it is a grave crime!” She deliberately exaggerated the severity.
Shen Qingluo said nothing, lowering her head. The Marchioness thought she was cowed by the charge, and pressed further: “Tell me—who dirtied it?” Then: “Bring the cloud-brocade out for me to see.”
“Mother, it was the servants in the courtyard who soiled it. I beg you, for my sake, do not punish them.” Shen Qingluo’s voice was low, her plea sincere.
Madam Zhou and the others would never allow her to take blame this way. The Marchioness was certain now—it was the people brought from Shanyang County who had dirtied the brocade.
They were the ones who had stirred Shen Qingluo to keep her distance from the Marquis household. Today, they must be driven out.
A cold gleam flashed in her eyes as she summoned Chunlan and Xiahe:
“Tell me—who usually keeps the young mistress’s cloud-brocade gown?”