It was the Mid-Autumn Festival, and the street outside the residence of Pei, the Left Vice Minister of Rites, was bustling with traffic. The eldest branch of the Pei family was particularly lively. The eldest daughter-in-law, Lady Meng, had just seen off the wife of the Director of the Bureau of Receptions in the Ministry of Rites when the shopkeeper of Yuzhen Xuan arrived with jewelry. Lady Meng inspected the pieces, then summoned Shishun's wife, one of her dowry retainers, and instructed: "These ornaments are for the young ladies to wear during the Mid-Autumn Festival—one gold phoenix hairpin studded with pearls and rubies, and one hairpin for each."
Shishun's wife understood. The gold phoenix hairpins were identical for everyone, but the hairpins were to be distributed according to each young lady's standing in the household. She left the eldest branch's compound first, walked along the covered corridor, and bypassed the second branch's courtyard next door, heading instead to the rear building behind Old Lady Pei's Mingyuan Hall.
Old Lady Pei's Mingyuan Hall was quite tranquil. This was not because she was neglected, but rather because she had been in low spirits ever since her youngest son, Third Master Pei, had passed away—a melancholy that had persisted for several years now. The household affairs had been left to her daughters-in-law.
In the rear building lived the Sixth Young Lady, born to Lady Meng of the eldest branch. Since Shishun's wife was Lady Meng's dowry retainer, she naturally went to the Sixth Young Lady's quarters first.
The Sixth Young Lady was seven years old, the apple of both the old lady's and Lady Meng's eye. She was sitting upright at her desk, practicing calligraphy.
Seeing this, Shishun's wife showered her with praise: "As expected of the old lady's own granddaughter—truly different from others. Look at how beautifully these characters are written!"
The Sixth Young Lady, named Shunniang, was somewhat embarrassed by such praise and said, "Do stop. If we're talking about who writes best in this household, it's Eldest Sister. What am I compared to her?"
"Now, now," Shishun's wife flattered even more, "Eldest Young Lady is already married and ten years your senior. How can the two of you be compared?"
Sixth Young Lady's wet nurse, Mama Hong, personally served tea to Shishun's wife and remarked, "Among all the young ladies in our household, if we're talking about who loves to outshine others the most, it's this one."
With that, she held up two fingers.
Shishun's wife took a sip of tea, cleared her throat, and offered her own assessment: "Eldest Young Lady has an excellent temperament—kind and magnanimous. Everyone gives her their highest praise. But Second Young Lady, her full sister, is the complete opposite—very competitive and headstrong."
"Not just Eldest and Second Young Lady being different," Mama Hong laughed. "Fourth and Fifth Young Lady are also full sisters, yet their temperaments are entirely unlike."
Shishun's wife agreed: "Fourth Young Lady is naturally beautiful, but she's far too fond of dressing up and is rather delicate. Her little schemes are transparent to everyone, and the things she says often leave people torn between laughter and tears. Her younger sister, Fifth Young Lady, is clever and sensible—though young in years, she's as steady and mature as a little adult."
They chatted idly for a while, both tactfully avoiding mention of the Third Young Lady. It was said her birth chart was inauspicious and she was plagued by frequent illnesses, so she was living in a nunnery in her hometown, keeping her hair unshorn as a lay devotee.
Only then did Shishun's wife get to the real business. She opened the jewelry box and let Shunniang choose first. Shunniang saw four hairpins laid out neatly inside. Looking closely, each was of a different design: a gold hairpin with filigree figures inlaid with gems, a gold hairpin with carved jade flowers and butterflies inlaid with jewels, a gold hairpin with eight-treasure patterns inlaid with pearls, and a gold hairpin with butterfly-and-peony motifs inlaid with gems.
Without a second thought, she picked the butterfly-and-peony gold hairpin inlaid with gems. Shishun's wife breathed a sigh of relief—that hairpin had the most intricate craftsmanship and was the most beautiful of the lot.
Leaving the rear building, Shishun's wife encountered Second Mistress, Lady Lu, and hurried forward to pay her respects. Although Lady Lu's husband was born of a concubine, she herself was the daughter of Old Lady Pei's sister—a true niece—and enjoyed a close relationship with the old lady.
Lady Lu had given birth to the Eldest and Second Young Ladies. When she heard about the hairpin selection, she promptly said her daughters were at home.
After a visit to the second branch, Shishun's wife came out and passed through a corridor where there were three small rooms with their doors open. Inside, Third Mistress, Lady Lu, was resting.
Lady Lu's husband, Third Master Pei, had died young, leaving behind a posthumous child. Lady Lu had remained a widow, raising her son in chastity.
It was a pity, truly. Third Master had been the old lady's most beloved son born of her lawful wife, and he had already earned scholarly honors—yet he had died in the prime of his life.
Without time for further lament, she crossed the corridor and headed west. The east side housed the fourth branch, but since Fourth Mistress, Lady Huo, had borne no children, there was no need to visit. Exiting through the corner gate to the west was the Pei family garden, which contained a large opera stage. Behind the stage were two small adjoining courtyards, separated only by a low wall.
Beside the rose trellis was the fifth branch's courtyard. Fifth Mistress, Lady Cao, was a second wife. The Third Young Lady, born of the previous wife, was in the nunnery, and Lady Cao herself had no children—though her dowry maid had been elevated to concubine and borne a son.
Past the fifth branch, she finally reached the sixth.
The sixth branch's residence was built by the water, its small courtyard lush and verdant, with a single path leading through the middle to the main hall.
At the doorway stood two crisp, lively young maids who lifted the speckled bamboo curtain to invite her inside. As Shi Shun's wife entered, she was met with a warm fragrance and saw a huanghuali wood screen placed at the center of the main hall. Behind the screen, in the adjoining room, lay a daybed where the Sixth Mistress, née Yu, was resting.
This Sixth Mistress, née Yu, appeared to be around twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. She wore a white gauze blouse with silver stripes beneath a moon-white sleeveless jacket. Her jet-black hair was coiled in a drooping bun, adorned at the base with a pearl tassel, while two "drop of oil" gold hairpins were inserted on one side and a kingfisher-feather chrysanthemum ornament pinned at her temple.
She had a petite and delicate figure with skin like congealed cream—fair, tender, and soft. As the daughter of a Hanlin Academy compiler, she carried an air of scholarly refinement, appearing both elegant and noble.
"Greetings to the Sixth Mistress," Shi Shun's wife said hastily as she paid her respects.
Madam Yu personally stepped forward to help her up, smiling sweetly. "No need for such formality here."
Shi Shun's wife first expressed her thanks, then stated her purpose: "The First Mistress sent me to deliver jewelry for the two young ladies, saying it's to be worn for the Mid-Autumn Festival."
With that, she dutifully opened the box. Madam Yu glanced at it and said with a smile, "Thank you for making the trip in such hot weather. Cuilan, give Sister Shi some money from me to buy herself a cold drink."
Shi Shun's wife knew that although Madam Yu was born of a concubine, her birth mother was said to be the daughter of a merchant, so her dowry had been extremely generous. She was also well-known in the Pei household for her good temper and open-handed generosity—there was no one in the household who did not praise her.
She was just about to express her gratitude when she saw two young girls enter through the doorway. The girl in front was slightly taller—this was the Fourth Young Lady, Liniang. She wore a pink sleeveless jacket and two ornate passionflower hairpins in her hair. With her standard oval face and striking, deep-set features, she was truly as beautiful as peach and plum blossoms—a perfect beauty in the making.
As for the Fifth Young Lady, Sheniang, who followed behind, she appeared to be about eight years old. She had the same tall, slender figure and oval face as her sister, but her features were more relaxed and open—bright eyes and white teeth, like a lotus blooming on distant mountains. She wore a milky-white bodice beneath a goose-yellow gauze jacket, paired with an autumn-gold horse-face skirt. In her hair was only a single pink silk flower inlaid with pearls, and on her left arm she wore a gold bangle—looking both elegant and refined.
Sheniang could hardly believe she had been reborn, back to the age of eight. Last night, she had thought she was dreaming. Today, she had pinched herself and seen all the familiar surroundings. Though her heart was still unsettled, she was now eighty or ninety percent certain that she had truly been reborn.
This was the most glorious period for the Pei family. Her grandfather served as Vice Minister of Rites, her eldest uncle held an official post abroad, and the household was harmonious and united.
"Mother." Sheniang and her fourth sister Liniang paid their respects together.
Her mother, whose image had grown blurry in her memory, was still young now. While Sheniang stood in a daze, Liniang, upon hearing that Shi Shun's wife had brought jewelry, kept glancing at Madam Yu, her eagerness practically spilling out.
Madam Yu understood and first sent Shi Shun's wife away, then said to her two daughters, "Go ahead and choose for yourselves."
Liniang and Sheniang went over together. She quickly picked out a hairpin, then said somewhat awkwardly, "Perhaps I should let my younger sister choose first."
Everyone smiled kindly. Liniang had been the same in her previous life—everyone thought she only had small, visible schemes that made her rather endearing, so no one minded. In the past, Sheniang hadn't minded either, but it was only after many subsequent events that she came to understand this sister was not so simple.
So Sheniang held back no longer. Looking at the two hairpins, she said, "You've already taken one—why ask me? The pretty ones have probably all been picked over by the others anyway. The two of us are just choosing from what's left, and in the end, I'll be the one stuck with the leftover."
Having been Empress for many years, apart from being answerable to the Emperor, she no longer needed to speak with excessive tact to please anyone.
In fact, she had also discovered a talent of hers—she was especially good at stirring up trouble. Sometimes even without meaning to, she could set others at odds.
Liniang was momentarily stunned, because although her younger sister was younger than her, she had always deferred to her—it had become a habit. Liniang had only been going through the motions.
Madam Yu raised an eyebrow and glanced at her daughter upon hearing this. She was of a gentle disposition and rarely clashed with anyone, so she said, "Sheniang, what are you saying?"
"It's true. If we went by seniority, I'd accept it willingly enough," Sheniang said.
"You child—how about Mother picks out a pair of earrings for you as a gift?" Madam Yu coaxed her youngest daughter.
Sheniang smiled. "Mother, I've always kept in mind the lines, 'Do not envy the peach and plum of spring; the osmanthus bears fruit in autumn's glory.' I was just momentarily upset."
"Our Sheniang is truly sensible." Madam Yu embraced her youngest daughter, thinking to herself that of her two daughters, the elder was beautiful and fond of coquetry, which was why her husband favored her most. As for her son, since he was the eldest grandson of the Pei family and was raised by her parents-in-law, she worried most about him. Her youngest daughter had received less of her attention—she never expected her to speak such words.
As the eldest daughter-in-law managing the household, she had always been one to scoop the best benefits into her own room first—now even an eight-year-old child could see it.
She-niang looked at her mother, then swept her gaze over the furnishings in her mother's chambers. Such wealth and elegance. She couldn't help but recall that in her past life, after her mother's death, she and her elder sister had been entrusted to the care of their several aunts, and her mother's dowry had been stripped clean.
Later, when it came time for her to marry, it was her father who used his official salary to arrange everything for them. Her fourth sister, with her glib tongue, had said something like, "The dowry sitting at home is just asking to be coveted by others. Better that I take it to my husband's family, and when the younger sister marries in the future, I'll bring it out for her. I'm far more reliable than the aunts."
But later, when she married the Prince of Jin as a secondary consort, Li-niang made every excuse to withhold that dowry. It was only when she personally went to her door and threatened her with leverage that she managed to pry twenty-five chests back for herself.
Fortunately, she had always had her elder brother to look after and protect her. It was just a pity that her brother went to the battlefield for her sake and fought desperately—he died before even reaching forty.
And the reason her brother said he was good to her was because, on her deathbed, their mother had said that she was young, and that their mother had always worried about him, neglecting the little sister. So as the elder brother, he must protect his sister.
Thinking of this, a wave of grief washed over her. She looked again at her mother, whose face was radiant with health, and felt deeply puzzled. How could her mother, who looked so robust, die of illness just a year later?