The dew of dawn lay heavy on the courtyard greenery, and the sky had yet to pale into the color of a fish’s belly when Jitao roused Xie Yuechan for her toilette.
“Madam, shall we style you as we used to?” Jitao asked. Today was the Three-Day Return, the first official visit to the bride’s natal home. Knowing they would face the Second Miss, Jitao feared her mistress might revert to her old, stubborn ways.
“No need. Just follow the style from yesterday,” Xie Yuechan replied.
In her inherited memories, the Marquis of Heyang and his wife shared a lukewarm marriage at best. The Marquis’s true devotion lay with the concubine who had birthed Xie Yuewan; consequently, Xie Yuechan had always occupied a smaller space in his heart than her younger sister. However, as his only legitimate daughter, the Marquis had never been overtly biased in his treatment of her.
Her younger sister, meanwhile, was the type to play the role of the respectful sibling while subtly nudging the original Xie Yuechan further and further off the rails. Anticipating a war of words today, Xie Yuechan instructed Jitao to dress her in a way that looked sharp and spirited.
When Gu Jing’an saw her, he noted her attire was even more vibrant than the day before—but this vibrancy didn’t come from piling on every expensive trinket she owned. She stood at the door in a silver-red silk upper garment paired with a saffron-yellow skirt, layered under a pale primrose-yellow long vest. The fabrics were all cool and soft; despite the bold colors, she didn’t look overheated. Gu Jing’an was inexplicably reminded of the candied hawthorns sold by the old man at the back gate of the Imperial Academy.
Bright reds, glowing oranges.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” she chirped. Lifting her skirt, she climbed into the carriage without waiting for assistance, her tone light and airy.
Gu Jing’an followed. The carriage rumbled toward the Marquis’s manor. The two estates were situated on opposite sides of the capital—one East, one West—making for a lengthy journey.
As they passed through the main thoroughfares of Bianjing, the morning markets were already teeming with life. Steaming bamboo baskets were being pried open, revealing thin-skinned, meat-heavy buns fresh from the heat, sold for two coins apiece.
A woman selling mutton soup called out to passersby. The air was thick with the gamey, savory scent of fresh broth. Gu Jing’an’s sharp eyes caught sight of Kui Yu sitting at a roadside stall. His friend held a duck-meat pastry from a neighboring vendor in one hand and a bowl larger than his face in the other, slurping soup with abandon.
Sensing someone’s gaze, Kui Yu looked up sharply. His eyes met Gu Jing’an’s through the carriage window. He waved enthusiastically, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food. “Mmph—Anshi!”
Pedestrians turned to look. Gu Jing’an, finding the display embarrassing, promptly dropped the curtain to shut out the world.
“Pfft…”
Someone beside him was giggling. Gu Jing’an glanced sideways, his eyes demanding an explanation. What’s so funny?
“Your friend is quite… spirited,” Xie Yuechan explained.
Just wait, Gu Jing’an thought. Once he realizes you’re the one sitting next to me, his spirit will likely evaporate.
The Marquis and his wife, flanked by a crowd of servants, were already waiting at the gate. Before the carriage had even fully stopped, servants rushed forward to set the footstool and assist them.
Gu Jing’an descended first. When the Marquis and his wife saw him, their eyes lit up. They couldn’t be more satisfied with this son-in-law. The Marquis, however, remembered his daughter’s shameless behavior in securing this match; his face flushed with a sense of lingering shame, and he lowered his head.
The Marchioness, on the other hand, held her head high with pride. Look! See how well my daughter has married? Her husband is a man of peerless character. Could Concubine Xu ever secure such a match for Xie Yuewan?
Gu Jing’an didn’t have time to register their expressions.
“Father, Mother!”
Xie Yuechan felt a flicker of nerves facing her “parents.” She worried her change in personality would trigger suspicion. But then she stiffened her resolve. So what if they suspect? They were the ones who saw me onto the sedan chair. There’s no use worrying about ghost stories now.
With a steady heart, she and Gu Jing’an paid their formal respects.
The Marquis nodded in approval. “After marriage, your conduct seems to have gained some sense of propriety.”
He then turned to Gu Jing’an with a practiced smile. “Anshi, my boy, this daughter of mine was spoiled rotten at home. You must be firm with her and keep her in line for me.”
“That’s enough for you! Must you lecture your own daughter on such a joyous day? Hold your tongue!” The Marchioness of Heyang shot her husband with a look of pure irritation. She stepped forward, grasping Xie Yuechan’s arm, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “A-Chan…”
Xie Yuechan gave her mother’s hand a reassuring pat and offered a bright smile. “Father, Mother, let’s head inside before we talk further.”
Gu Jing’an was a master of filial etiquette. No matter how reluctant he had been before the wedding, he played the part of the devoted husband to perfection now, determined not to let the public find any reason to gossip about the Gu family. He stepped forward and smoothly took Xie Yuechan’s hand from her mother.
The two walked side by side, half a step behind the Marquis, their bearing beyond reproach. As they passed a moon-gate corridor, a figure dressed in pale, understated silk flickered in the distance.
“Who goes there?” the Marquis called out, being the first to spot her.
Xie Yuewan doubled back with her maid, offering a timid, anxious greeting to the group. Her eyes, however, couldn’t stop darting toward Gu Jing’an.
“Oh, it’s only A-Wan. Rise, child. Today is your sister’s return day; you sisters should find some time to catch up.”
The Marchioness didn’t hide her disdain. To her, there was nothing her precious daughter needed to say to a mere concubine’s child.
Xie Yuewan cast a pitiful, lingering look at Gu Jing’an, then at Xie Yuechan, before nodding obediently. “Yes, Father.”
Xie Yuechan almost laughed at the performance. Is she trying to look like I’ve spent my whole life bullying her?
Gu Jing’an, true to his nature as a high-spec ancient “straight man,” completely missed the sorrowful longing in Xie Yuewan’s gaze. Yuewan, however, didn’t care; just being this close to him made her feel as though she were walking on air.
If Xie Yuechan can love him, why can’t I? she thought bitterly. The only difference is that I lack her shamelessness. I couldn’t throw a tantrum and scheme my way into his bed!
But it didn’t matter. Thanks to her subtle instigations over the months, Xie Yuechan had harassed him into a state of total revulsion. Yuewan intended to be the gentle spring thaw to his thousand-year-old ice. She blinked rapidly, making her eyes appear even more watery and vulnerable.
They arrived late in the morning, but the Grand Princess was feeling unwell and remained in her quarters at Hibiscus Hall. The group sat and chatted in the main parlor until noon, when a lavish spread of sixty-eight dishes was laid out.
Looking at the table, Gu Jing’an felt a sense of familiarity, yet he was puzzled. If the Marquis’s chefs are this skilled, why did the food feel so different at the Gu manor?
He picked up his chopsticks, still holding a sliver of hope. He started with the shredded eel broth placed nearest to him. The Marquis’s kitchen was extravagant; for this single dish, they had used only the back meat of over a dozen eels, discarding the rest.
Unfortunately, while the meat should have been tender, it was overcooked and tough. He reached further for the shark fin with triple-shreds. The fin was smooth, but the garnishes were so overwhelming they drowned out the main ingredient. And the mutton? One swallow left a gamey aftertaste that refused to fade, instantly killing his appetite.
He realized now that he had been wrong. It wasn’t the Marquis’s chefs who were talented; it was Xie Yuechan herself who possessed a singular, extraordinary gift for flavor.
After the meal, Gu Jing’an played two rounds of Go with the Marquis. Eventually, the Marchioness shooed them away, insisting that Xie Yuechan take him for a stroll through the estate.
The Heyang manor wasn’t particularly large—it was a converted official residence—但 but it boasted exquisite landscaping. Furthermore, it shared a connecting gate with the sprawling Grand Princess’s estate next door, making the grounds feel much more expansive than they truly were.