Neither husband nor wife had a gentle temper. Jingxi was unafraid of Xie Xiu, and Xie Xiu never yielded to Jingxi. Since their marriage, they had quarreled often. Today’s spat was only a small skirmish.
No one took it to heart. Xie Xiu had snapped a few words; Jingxi’s mood soured, and after picking at a few bites, she went off to rest.
After breakfast, Xie Linxu went to the yamen for duty, while Song Xingyue prepared to return to Qinghe Courtyard. But after only a few steps, someone called her back—Jingxi wanted her.
Song Xingyue had no choice but to return.
Back in Rongming Hall, Xie Linfu and Huang Xiangtang had already left. Xie Jinfei remained, sitting with Jingxi. They were speaking of something, but when they saw Song Xingyue enter, Jinfei gave her a once‑over and fell silent.
Song Xingyue saluted Jingxi and asked: “Mother, do you have further instructions?”
Jingxi said: “This morning you heard your father’s words clearly, didn’t you? He told me to ask the Old Madam. I won’t go. The matter isn’t mine to bear—I won’t invite displeasure. You go instead. Ask the Old Madam whether she wishes to attend the Li family’s birthday banquet.”
But what if the Old Madam still resented the past? Wouldn’t asking only earn her scorn? And in this sweltering heat, walking from Rongming Hall to Chongde Hall was exhausting. After thinking it over, sending Song Xingyue was the most convenient option.
Song Xingyue had little impression of the Old Madam. Secluded, she had seen her only a handful of times in two years. So when Jingxi told her to run the errand, she was not surprised. Refusal was impossible; she could only agree politely. After agreeing, she rose to leave. As she stepped out, she heard Xie Jinfei whispering behind her: “Going will only invite dislike. I don’t know what Father is thinking. If Sister Li sees her, won’t she be hurt? And Brother too—why doesn’t he stop it? Must he drag her along to disgrace herself?”
Jingxi said: “Enough. Speak of her if you must, but leave your elder brother out of it…”
Song Xingyue could bear no more. She turned away and left. Chongde Hall was some distance off. Walking there, sweat gathered on her brow. The fabrics Jingxi had chosen for her clothes were not light at all. Inside the room, it was tolerable, but once she walked outside for a while, the heat became unbearable.
Seeing Song Xingyue drenched in sweat, Danping understood the reason. She fanned harder and muttered resentfully: “Her Highness is truly inconsiderate. In this blazing summer, wouldn’t it be easier to send one of the older maids? Why must she torment you like this?”
But if the errand were given to a maid, they would be considered more precious than her, harder to command.
Song Xingyue soothed Danping: “Don’t be upset. We’re almost there. Once we return, we’ll cut open a melon to cool off. Besides, a granddaughter‑in‑law visiting her grandmother is only proper. There’s nothing to feel unhappy about.”
As they spoke, they neared Chongde Hall. The two fell silent.
After Song Xingyue explained her purpose to the gate maids, they went inside to announce her. After waiting a while, she was finally led in.
Old Madam Xie was devoted to Buddhism. For years she had immersed herself in prayer. Entering Chongde Hall, one could smell the lingering sandalwood incense. A long table stood before the hall, with a censer and a statue of Guanyin.
Old Madam Xie had just finished breakfast and was about to perform her devotions, but upon hearing of Song Xingyue’s arrival, she set it aside and waited in the inner room.
Old Madam Xie was not yet sixty, but her hair was already thick with white, her forehead lined with wrinkles, her face gaunt and aged. Yet her eyes were not clouded; they still held a trace of brightness.
Song Xingyue bowed: “Grandmother, blessings of health.”
Old Madam Xie looked at her, then nodded slightly toward a chair: “Sit.”
Song Xingyue did not refuse. She sat to the side, her throat dry from the walk, but she dared not ask for anything. Instead, she quickly explained her purpose: “Grandmother, forgive me for disturbing you today. It concerns Grand Tutor Li’s birthday. In half a month, he will turn sixty. Father sent me to ask whether you wish to go to the Li household to offer congratulations…”
Speaking of this matter, Song Xingyue felt uneasy.
In the Xie family, aside from Xie Linxu, she was the one most closely tied to the Lis. Asking this question now seemed only to invite discomfort. But she could not disobey Jingxi’s orders.
Perhaps because of age and frailty, the Old Madam’s presence carried a certain sternness that made Song Xingyue instinctively fearful, expecting sharp words. Yet when the Old Madam spoke, it was not the harsh reproach she had imagined.
“Not going. I’m older now, too lazy to join in the bustle. You younger ones can go in my stead.”
Song Xingyue had not met the Old Madam often, and when she had, they rarely spoke more than a few words. She had imagined her to be stern, but now found her different—less harsh than expected. After a moment’s thought, she asked: “Grandmother, do you have any words you’d like me to pass to Grand Tutor Li? I can tell Changzhou, and he can convey them.”
The Old Madam pressed her thin lips together and said: “Just send my congratulations. That will suffice.”
At this, she looked Song Xingyue up and down. Seeing her flushed face and the sweat on her brow, she knew the walk had left her overheated.
“Have a cup of tea to cool yourself,” she said.
For the past two years, Song Xingyue had always run errands. She had seen the Old Madam more often than most of the other family members.
Song Xingyue was parched, so she did not refuse. She poured herself a cup and drank.
Mentioning the Li family brought a sigh from the Old Madam. “Those two children had no fate together; they could not be husband and wife. I don’t blame anyone—it was simply not their destiny. The Lis are an open‑hearted family; they did not take offense, and that is our fortune. I never blamed you for what happened. If blame is due, it is to Changzhou for not restraining himself, and to Jingxi, whose temper is poor. Since marrying in, you yourself have known hardship.”
Marriage is a matter of fate. If it is not destined, it cannot be forced. All the turmoil, in the end, became a laughingstock.
Hearing these words, Song Xingyue felt a sudden sourness in her heart. The Old Madam’s words were too plain, too piercing. She lowered her head and murmured: “That matter was my fault… not Changzhou’s.”
The Old Madam did not pursue the subject further. Instead, she looked at Song Xingyue and said: “Two years now, and still not a single decent set of clothes. You’re young—why wear such old‑fashioned things?”
In these two years, whenever Song Xingyue came to Chongde Hall, it was always the same. Was the Xie family so impoverished they could not provide proper clothing for their daughter‑in‑law?
Perhaps fate was mocking her—only that morning she had asked Xie Linxu about clothes, and now the Old Madam had raised the same matter again. Even the Old Madam could see her predicament—yet the man who shared her bed day after day seemed blind to it.
Song Xingyue’s nose stung, her eyes reddened despite herself. She said softly: “It’s fine, Grandmother. Clothes… as long as they can be worn, that’s enough.”
The Old Madam frowned: “Is that how you excuse yourself, abusing your youth? When you go to the Li household dressed like this, won’t it invite gossip?”
At her age, anything she wore would look striking, would look beautiful. But when visiting another family, one must dress properly.
The Old Madam said: “I’ll have someone sent to Qinghe Courtyard. You should have a set for each season—spring, summer, autumn, winter.”
With that, she gave no chance for Song Xingyue to refuse, waving her hand: “I must return to my devotions. You may go.”
Seeing she was being dismissed, Song Xingyue did not linger. She thanked the Old Madam sincerely and withdrew.
Watching her leave, the Old Madam murmured: “It seems her days are harder than I imagined.”
Life in the Duke’s household was not easy for anyone—least of all for one so lacking in fortune. She had heard of the treatment Song Xingyue endured from Jingxi these past two years. Still, the girl was steady. Two years married, and she had caused no scandal.
Her attendant nurse, hearing the implication, sighed: “There’s no help for it. Her family is of no standing, with no support. The marriage itself was not entirely proper. Of course she must suffer.”
The Old Madam drew back her gaze from the doorway and sighed: “She lost her mother young, and her father remarried a shrew. Her days in her natal home were no better. She grew up battered, yet did not turn out crooked—that alone is rare. Well, well… who can blame her, after that incident?”
She said no more. Such matters were tangled, and talking of them led nowhere.
When Song Xingyue returned, someone finally came in the afternoon to take her measurements for new clothes.
The Old Madam’s words had not been idle. Once spoken, she did not forget.
This time, the fabrics were no longer old‑fashioned. Even the winter cloth, though out of season, was of fine quality.
The tailor who measured her was courteous, full of flattering words. Song Xingyue knew it was only out of respect for the Old Madam, so she smiled politely without fuss. The clothes were quickly measured, and she chose patterns.
Danping brought out the melon cut that morning and offered it to the tailor: “Auntie, have some melon—it’s very sweet.”
After eating, the tailor did not linger and left.
About ten days later, they sent over the first finished garment—a summer outfit. The other three, for spring, autumn, and winter, were still being made. The Old Madam had ordered the summer set to be rushed, so it was delivered as soon as it was done. It was a sky‑blue long robe with a standing collar and diagonal lapel, paired with a blue‑and‑gold embroidered horse‑face skirt. Even the neck ornament was included: a filigree gold chain woven with pearls, clearly of uncommon quality. It was, at last, a truly dignified set of clothes.
Danping looked delighted. “Miss, you’ll look beautiful in this!”
But as Song Xingyue gazed at the outfit, she recalled Xie Linxu’s words from before. The sting still lingered in her heart. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked: “Could it be too ostentatious?”
Danping replied: “How could it be! It’s not bright red or purple. Sky‑blue is the most ordinary of colors—how could that be showy?”
It was rare to have a proper new outfit. Danping urged her: “Miss, don’t overthink it! The clothes Her Highness made were always too somber, hardly suitable for festive days. This set from the Old Madam is just right.”
Hearing this, Song Xingyue felt somewhat reassured. She looked at the garment again, stroked the fabric twice, then put it away.
The Old Madam had given her four complete sets of clothes. Song Xingyue felt unworthy of such generosity and was embarrassed to accept them. Remembering the Old Madam’s devotion to Buddhism, she thought of a way to return the favor.
Her own mother, while alive, had suffered under her father’s favoritism toward concubines. After her mother’s death, he immediately raised a concubine to wife. With a stepmother, life grew harsher. In the Song household, if not for her grandmother’s protection, she and her sister might not have grown up safely at all.
That grandmother had loved chanting sutras. Song Xingyue had often copied Buddhist scriptures to show filial piety.
Since Old Madam Xie also loved reciting sutras, Song Xingyue decided she would copy one for her as a gift.
Days passed steadily, and soon it was late July—the birthday of Grand Tutor Li.
That morning, Xie Linxu woke first. He sat by the window, reading in the new sunlight. When the sun rose higher, Song Xingyue woke as well. After washing, they each dressed.
She was, after all, only eighteen. How could a young girl not enjoy pretty clothes? And today there would be many people. With so many eyes upon them, Xie Linxu would appear radiant, while she, standing beside him in drab attire, would only look duller, inviting ridicule. Besides, outsiders always liked to compare her with the Li family’s third young lady. She found it tiresome.
In the end, Song Xingyue put on the new outfit from the Old Madam. But when she stepped out, she saw Xie Linxu frown.
Reading his expression, she immediately sensed his displeasure and explained: “Grandmother had this made for me. I thought, since today is a festive occasion, it wouldn’t be wrong to wear it. I meant nothing else.”
Even without much attention, Xie Linxu could see this outfit was unlike her usual ones—its style and color more vivid, more lively. Yet hearing her explanation, his brow remained furrowed. He said: “Didn’t I tell you not to outshine the hosts?”
Song Xingyue protested: “I’m not outshining anyone… it’s not even crimson red…”
How was she outshining anyone? Whose place was she stealing? She couldn’t understand. To him, even a simple new dress seemed improper. Was it that he disliked her so much that whatever she wore was wrong?
She had been happy to wear new clothes. Now the joy was gone, her heart tangled in confusion. His words were always so cutting. Did he take pride in seeing her mocked by others?
Hearing her argue back, Xie Linxu’s expression grew even darker.
Seeing this, Song Xingyue lowered her voice and said: “If you dislike it so much, then I’ll change.”