A Chun was lost again.
This was not to be blamed on her; the Shen estate was simply too large.
Even in the capital, where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, the Shen family, bolstered by ancestral prestige, still maintained a sprawling complex of grand halls and lofty courtyards.
Born in the remote Nanwuzhou, A Chun was sixteen when she first entered the capital.
Her father had passed away before she was born. Her mother, Shen Yun’e, was timid by nature and suffered from a chronic cough, making it difficult to maintain a livelihood. Fortunately, they were supported by a distant uncle, Shen Shiru, allowing mother and daughter to lead a stable life.
Three years ago, Shen Shiru passed away suddenly. The aid was cut off, and A Chun began working in a tavern to earn money for her mother’s medicine.
Stories of her deeds reached the ears of Shen Shiru’s mother—the still-living Old Ancestress. Moved by A Chun’s filial piety, she sent people to bring the mother and daughter to the capital and settled them within the estate.
This was A Chun’s second day in the Shen residence.
While walking in the garden today, her maid was suddenly called away by the Fifth Young Lady to attend to some business. A Chun did not know the way, nor did she understand the rules of the Marquis’s manor. She sat on a stone bench to wait, but when no one returned, she feared she would be late to pay her respects to the Old Ancestress. She could only try to find her way toward Muhe Hall based on her memory.
Past carved railings and jade-like masonry, through water pavilions and grand gardens, she wound her way around, only to end up back where she started.
The sun was harsh. A Chun’s face was flushed with anxiety as she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe away her sweat.
As she was wiping, A Chun suddenly felt someone watching her. She looked up and saw a gentleman standing in a corridor pavilion on the opposite side of the lotus pond.
It was midsummer, and the pond was filled with pink lotuses. As the wind blew, their fragrance filled the air. Lotus leaves rolled and dipped in varying shades of green, and amidst them stood a man in a silver-white robe, his hair bound in a gold crown. He was tall and elegant, with deep-set features and a handsome, refreshing demeanor.
Her heart skipped a beat, and a thought surfaced: this must be her eldest brother, Shen Weizhen.
She felt a natural sense of closeness toward him.
Prior to this, the two had never met.
Yesterday, while dining at the Old Ancestress’s place, A Chun had met the other sisters and brothers, but Shen Weizhen was the only one absent.
He had sent a servant to say that he had recently caught a cold and feared passing the illness to his sister, so it was not a good time to meet.
In truth, A Chun understood that this elder brother disliked her.
She was well aware of her own background; nominally, she was a distant relative. But in reality? The Old Ancestress pitied her, granting her food, clothing, and expenses on par with the other young ladies of the house, but A Chun would never dare to truly consider herself a lady of the Shen estate.
Shen Weizhen was different.
He was the eldest son and heir to the title. He was upright and had achieved the rank of Jieyuan at the age of nineteen. Had it not been for the mourning period for his father, he would likely have already entered the imperial court with a limitless future. He was the most outstanding member of the Shen family.
Beside the water where the lotuses bloomed, A Chun fearfully bowed to Shen Weizhen.
She wanted to call him “Brother,” but feared his disdain. Nor could she address him as “First Young Master” as the servants did—
Her handkerchief was nearly twisted to shreds before A Chun finally squeezed out a greeting: “Master Shen.”
She was in a fluster, her heart drumming in her chest, not knowing if her posture was correct or if her form of address was appropriate.
This was her first time in the capital, and she did not know how to interact with this brother.
Looking up in panic, A Chun found that Shen Weizhen did not return her greeting, nor was it clear if he had even heard her.
He stood where he was, motionless, gazing at her from across the water.
A Chun became even more uneasy.
The Old Ancestress had said that Shen Weizhen closely resembled his father, but in reality, this elder brother’s temperament was more like that of his mother, Madam Li—the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Yongjia, indifferent and aloof.
The frostiness of Madam Li last night and Shen Weizhen’s unwavering gaze now—regardless of the type of stare, they both made A Chun’s spine go cold and her shirt dampen with sweat.
Amidst the awkwardness, A Chun spotted the figure of a maid. Feeling as if she had been granted a divine reprieve, she bowed once more to Shen Weizhen from a distance and hurriedly departed.
Even if her posture was wrong, she had bowed twice; surely he could appreciate her sincerity?
A Chun had self-awareness; she knew Shen Weizhen loathed her as a “sister,” and she had no intention of being an eyesore.
Yet, for some reason, Shen Weizhen kept his eyes fixed on her retreating back.
Perhaps he hated her so much he wished she would simply disappear.
A Chun sensibly walked away.
She was still late in paying her respects to the Old Ancestress.
By the time A Chun stepped over the threshold of Muhe Hall, her sisters were all present and sitting together, chatting.
The Old Ancestress was of a tolerant character and did not mind such minor details, especially since her heart was currently full of Shen Weizhen’s marriage prospects.
A Chun sat quietly and listened.
It turned out that Shen Weizhen had been by the lotus pond earlier for a marriage viewing.
Shen Weizhen’s mourning period had ended, and Madam Li was worried about her son’s lifelong affairs. She had taken a liking to Miss Meng and invited her to the estate today as a guest, wanting Shen Weizhen to meet her.
“Miss Meng is the third daughter of the Marquis of Changning’s household, intelligent and virtuous,” said the Third Sister, Shen Zongshu. She was the eldest daughter of the second branch and the most kind-hearted. She smiled at the Old Ancestress and said, “You saw her during the Jinming Lake exercises last year.”
“Oh, it’s her,” the Old Ancestress pondered for a moment, then asked the page who had brought the message, “What did Weizhen say?”
“Reporting to the Old Ancestress,” the page replied, “The Young Master said that Miss Meng, dressed in Tianshui Azure today, was as bright as the moon shining through the forest, like a celestial being.”
The Old Ancestress laughed.
This meant Shen Weizhen had agreed.
With a major matter finally settled, the Old Ancestress was in high spirits. she instructed Madam Li: “I recall that several bolts of Tianshui Azure Hangzhou Gauze were sent over in March. Since Weizhen says this color suits Miss Meng, let’s send them all to the Changning Marquis’s manor later.”
Madam Li replied, “Six bolts were sent then. Yesterday, when A Chun arrived in the capital, you said you wanted to have some clothes tailored for her. I ordered two bolts to be taken to rush the production of new clothes for her.”
It was indeed a rush job, made overnight, and A Chun was wearing them now.
She originally didn’t have many dresses, and those she had were covered in patches, looking entirely out of place in a Marquis’s manor. The Old Ancestress saw this and specifically ordered many new clothes for her. A Chun understood she could not bring shame to the household, so as soon as the dress was delivered, she put it on to come and give her thanks.
Caught off guard by being mentioned, A Chun’s face flushed. She stood up and bowed to the Old Ancestress and Madam Li: “To have troubled the Old Ancestress and Aunt with such matters.”
Madam Li did not look at her, nor did she smile.
The Old Ancestress looked closely and said affectionately, “A Chun looks beautiful in this color too—keep another two bolts for A Chun. For the rest, find four bolts of other fabrics to send along to Miss Meng.”
Madam Li complied.
A Chun knew the Old Ancestress wanted to dote on her, but she hadn’t expected it to be to this extent.
By the time she returned to Zangchun Court, it wasn’t just those two bolts of Tianshui Azure Hangzhou Gauze that had been sent, but over a dozen others—silks, satins, gauzes, and crepes, everything she could need. Several hairpins and rings were packed in sandalwood boxes, delivered by Nanny Zhao, who served the Old Ancestress, leading a dozen or so maids.
Nanny Zhao was smiling, her voice slow and gentle, but she handled matters without any ambiguity.
The maid who had abandoned A Chun at noon had committed a fault and was expelled from Zangchun Court. The Old Ancestress sent another maid in her place, named Qiu Shuang.
Nanny Zhao spoke subtly: “For a while now, the Old Ancestress will be busy arranging the Young Master’s great affair, and she may not be able to attend to this side for a time. If you have any needs, Young Lady, just come to me.”
A Chun said, “I am grateful to Nanny for bringing these. Please have a cup of tea before you go.”
Nanny Zhao declined. A Chun rose to see her off and pressed some silver coins into her hand.
Qiu Shuang stood to the side, observing A Chun’s conduct. She inwardly praised her; this cousin was quite perceptive.
She had a straightforward personality. Having come here on the Old Ancestress’s orders, she immediately set about tidying A Chun’s courtyard.
Zangchun Court used to be Shen Shiru’s study. Later, when he was stationed elsewhere, it had sat vacant. The pages and maids assigned here now were all aware of A Chun’s background; they thought she was from a remote province and were sluggish in their work.
On the first afternoon of Qiu Shuang’s arrival, she established the rules—punishing those who deserved it and rewarding those who did well. Her speech was elegant and orderly, leaving A Chun dazed.
Having grown up in the market streets and countryside, she had never seen such a display.
Qiu Shuang was equally strict with A Chun.
“Young Lady,” Qiu Shuang said, “You are now a lady of the Marquis’s manor. In the future, you will inevitably go out to visit guests with the Madam. Your dignity is the Old Ancestress’s dignity, and even more so, the dignity of the manor. You must learn these rules.”
A Chun spent the whole afternoon working hard, learning only how to bow. She finally managed to rest, but she couldn’t have dinner with her mother; the Old Ancestress sent word for her to go to Muhe Hall.
Just as she entered the courtyard of Muhe Hall, A Chun collided with Shen Weizhen. It was a solid impact; her head hit his chest.
She clutched her forehead, and she heard Qiu Shuang say in a panic, “The Young Lady has just entered the manor and hasn’t finished learning the rules. She accidentally offended the Young Master, please do not blame her.”
By the light of the lantern Qiu Shuang held, A Chun could see the hem of Shen Weizhen’s robe—a dark blue embroidered with many bamboo leaves in silver thread.
The greenery in Muhe Hall was lush, and she hadn’t seen him just now.
During the day, A Chun’s vision was excellent; from a hundred paces away, she could use a slingshot to accurately knock a small bug off a lychee leaf. But once night fell, her eyes failed her, making her vision even worse than that of an average person.
A Chun held onto a nearby plantain tree to steady herself.
Dew from the plantain leaf trickled down the veins and landed between her brows, cold and chilling. A Chun, filled with trepidation, looked up: “Brother.”
The light was dim, and she couldn’t see Shen Weizhen’s face clearly. She could only smell the pleasant scent on him—a steady, restrained sandalwood incense, very light and faint.
She only heard Shen Weizhen’s voice respond strangely, “Brother?”
A Chun’s heart sank.
He truly refused to acknowledge her as his “sister.”
“Master Shen,” A Chun couldn’t see clearly and didn’t dare look further, fearing she would see disgust on her elder brother’s face. She lowered her head and performed a bow with the standard posture Qiu Shuang had taught her. “I have an ailment in my eyes and cannot see clearly at night. Just now, I did not know you were here—”
In her peripheral vision, she saw him slowly take a step back, widening the distance between them.
A Chun bit her lip, unable to continue.
“Are you Jinghui?” Shen Weizhen asked. “What is wrong with your eyes?”
“Jinghui is the name bestowed by the Old Ancestress yesterday. You may just call me A Chun, Master Shen.” A Chun kept her head lowered. “I cannot see things clearly at night. The doctor said there is no cure; it is a condition from the womb, I was born this way.”
‘Chun’ was an elegant name for the camellia.
The weather in Nanwuzhou was hot, with no snow all year round. It was like spring in all four seasons, humid and rainy—perfect for the growth of camellias. Her mother had named her A Chun in the hope that she could be like the camellia, growing freely across the mountains.
The Old Ancestress had said that a girl must have a proper name, as “Shen A Chun” sounded truly unpresentable.
Shen Weizhen was supposed to have had a younger sister, but unfortunately, she died before being born. At that time, the Old Ancestress had looked through books and chosen two characters, “Jinghui.” They had been set aside for years and were now given to A Chun.
As for the eye ailment, there was indeed nothing A Chun could do.
Shen Weizhen’s biological father, Shen Shiru, had also suffered from the same eye condition. He had visited countless famous physicians in his youth, all to no avail.
A Chun no longer held any hope.
Shen Weizhen remained silent.
He said nothing and walked straight past her.
A Chun kept her head lowered until the sound of his footsteps vanished, then she blinked softly.
It was fine.
She thought to herself that all of this was normal.
Putting herself in his shoes, she would never like a child who came to snatch away all the love and care of her parents.
Only…
A Chun clenched her sleeves.
Being disliked still felt sad.
The moonlight was pale white. Seeing A Chun’s dazed expression, Qiu Shuang suddenly felt a surge of pity.
This distant cousin, brought into the manor only because of the Old Ancestress’s favor, was young and possessed a celestial beauty, yet her fate had been turbulent. While teaching the rules earlier, Qiu Shuang had noticed that A Chun’s fingers were covered in callouses, and her palms had many small scars. Recalling what she had heard before, she knew the girl must have suffered a great deal. It was not easy.
In the evening, the Old Ancestress was very satisfied with A Chun’s behavior.
Qiu Shuang breathed a sigh of relief.
When the Old Ancestress assigned her to Zangchun Court, she had reminded her to take good care of this young cousin.
Qiu Shuang wasn’t afraid of the cousin having a rural air; she only feared she might be arrogant and unwilling to learn.
Fortunately, the young lady was soft-natured. She didn’t speak much but was sensible and knew right from wrong.
They thought the day would pass peacefully, but then there was a commotion over at Renshou Hall. For some reason, Madam Li was furious with Shen Weizhen, rushing to his courtyard in a rage and leaving just as angrily.
After settling A Chun into bed, Qiu Shuang asked the maids on duty to find out the reason.
Just a moment ago, Shen Weizhen had suddenly told Madam Li that he was unwilling to continue the marriage talks with Miss Meng.
Madam Li was incensed.
“The Young Master is always decisive. What happened today?” Qiu Shuang was stunned. “Didn’t they say that at noon, he only took one look at Miss Meng and agreed?”
“Yes,” Xiao Hong nodded. “I was serving outside the courtyard at the time and heard it clearly—after the viewing by the lotus pond, the Young Master personally told the page that Tianshui Azure suited Miss Meng very well and even told them to buy more silk to send to her.”
Qiu Shuang thought for a moment, puzzled. “Speaking of which, I also saw Miss Meng this afternoon. She is like a goddess. But was her dress today Tianshui Azure? Wasn’t it copper green?”
“Perhaps I remembered it wrong,” Xiao Hong poked her head in and asked, “Sister, has the Young Lady already gone to sleep? Give me the clothes; I’ll take them to be laundered and scented.”
Qiu Shuang said fine and turned back into the room to fetch them.
The inner room was lit by only two candles, not very bright. She saw a small gap in the gauze curtains, and the shoes laid out by the bed were out of place.
Pausing, Qiu Shuang pretended not to notice. She took the dress and handed it back to Xiao Hong, who was waiting outside.
“The Young Lady likes light floral and fruity scents; make sure the incense isn’t too strong,” Qiu Shuang instructed. “And these pieces—”
Suddenly, she stopped and stared blankly at the dress in the basket.
—Today, when the Young Lady had walked past the lotus pond to pay her respects to the Old Ancestress, she had been wearing a gown of Tianshui Azure.