Spring of the Blade - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"The Prefect's wife just acted as a matchmaker for the Second Young Master. Now that she's back, she must be bringing more happy news," Baoxian said, supporting Qingyuan as they returned to Danyue Pavilion (Pavilion of the Pale Moon).

Danyue Pavilion was the courtyard where Concubine Jin had once lived. Fourteen years ago, two concubines were lost in one fell swoop, and the Master was so deeply shaken that he never took another woman into the manor again. This small courtyard had stood empty and locked away until today. It was said that houses left vacant for too long were prone to harboring spirits. Now that they had brought her back and placed her here, if Concubine Jin really wanted to harm anyone, she would be harming her own daughter.

Qingyuan had lived in this courtyard for some days now, and she had hoped her mother might appear, but alas, it was never to be. According to the grandmother on the other side, her mother had died of a lung illness shortly after giving birth to her. In her memories, her mother was merely a simple title, devoid of any substance. But the path of life is long—who doesn't have an origin? She looked at the moon-gate, then at the garden that had been tidied up again. The first time she set foot in the Xie manor, the courtyard assigned to her had been overgrown with weeds and desolate; it was no place for a human to live. Yet, it was right here that she found a faint connection to her mother. Now that the courtyard was cleaned up and lit, she could almost imagine a silhouette cast upon the paper window—fourteen years ago, before she was driven out of the Xie manor, her mother had sat right there doing needlework.

Qingyuan had once asked the grandmother on the other side what her mother looked like. The woman’s gaze had grown distant as she gestured with her hand, "She was this tall, with handsome eyebrows and fine eyes, just like you."

Her mother had only stayed with the Chen family for eight months. Years later, when Grandma Chen recalled those days, she only remembered her sitting under the wisteria trellis, her face full of sorrow from dawn until dusk.

"Most wicked people are slick and opportunistic. If one source of livelihood is cut off, they go find another; they would never hang themselves from a single tree. Your mother's illness was brought on by worry. Those who know how to worry are usually honest folk." Because of this, Grandma Chen absolutely refused to believe that her mother had committed murder by poisoning.

Murder was no small matter; one would easily be caught and leave behind evidence. It was unlikely she had the guts to commit such a crime. At first, burdened by her mother's sins, Qingyuan had felt ashamed and couldn't hold her head up. But gradually, she felt it wasn't so. Too many things didn't add up, and she shouldn't so easily plead guilty on her mother's behalf. That was why, when the Xie family came asking for her, she had returned. They had given the elderly Chen couple a considerable amount of silver as compensation for fourteen years of upbringing. She had seen the tears on the faces of the Chen grandparents; the people of the Xie family did not understand—how could years of affection be settled with mere money?

She had secretly made a vow: once she achieved what she intended to do, she would definitely return to care for the two elders. In this world, only the Chen grandparents had truly treated her well. The Xie family’s repeated visits to retrieve her were merely to borrow her fortune to keep their household peaceful. They had never cared for her while she was young, and even after bringing her back, they just tossed her aside. She had yet to meet her father, and even the name "Qingyuan" had been chosen casually by the Old Madam.

"Qing" was from the generational line, and "Yuan" was for the sake of completeness. The Old Madam had simply said, "As long as she is back, it is well." She had accepted this name; after all, the blood of the Xie family flowed through her veins. She never struggled against herself, nor did she hate being a descendant of the Xie family. However, before stepping into this residence, she had another name she had used for fourteen years—Grandma Chen called her "Yunya" (Cloud Bud). Two tender leaves growing on a soft, white, puffy cloud; thinking of it now, it was quite endearing.

She was lost in these thoughts, while Baoxian was busy pondering the intent behind the Prefect's wife's visit. "I suspect she's here to play matchmaker for the young ladies in the manor. I wonder who this target is for." As she spoke, she looked at her, "Fourth Miss, we should prepare ourselves as well."

Hearing this, Qingyuan showed no reaction. She leaned over and rummaged through her sewing basket, asking where the flower pattern from the morning had been placed.

Baoxian felt anxious about her mistress's indifference. The Xie family was not a place to stay for long, and if she could find a good family and a good marriage, it would be a way out. She even pushed the basket slightly further away, "My lady, did you hear what I said?"

Qingyuan couldn't reach it, so she let out an "ah" of dissatisfaction, stood up, and pulled the basket back, answering idly, "I am still young, what is the rush? The three older sisters above me aren't even engaged yet; how could it be my turn?"

"That’s not necessarily true," Baoxian said. "A place as big as Shengzhou has different customs everywhere. Some places emphasize seniority in arranging marriages, but Hengtang is not like that. If there are several young ladies of similar age, it doesn't matter who gets engaged first. Especially in official households, it isn't easy to find a match of equal status. As long as the arrangement is made, the meat stays in the pot, regardless of the order."

Qingyuan merely smiled. She understood perfectly well that if there were any good matches, it would never, ever be her turn. The Xie family didn't bring her back to arrange a marriage for her; her function was to stabilize the household, and if necessary, she could be used as a sacrificial offering in exchange for peace.

Of course, the maids in her room were on her side—that was human nature. She knew how the other households gossiped about her. Some felt that her agreeing to return was merely to curry favor with the status of an official’s daughter. They covered their mouths and snickered in secret, laughing at her for being short-sighted, unaware of the precarious situation she was in. But they couldn't imagine that she hadn't returned to recognize Xie Shu as her father—she had returned for her mother. Her mother was already dead, yet she still bore the stigma of a murderer. She had to uncover the truth, and no matter what the final result was, it had to be made crystal clear.

"For now, I only need to stay in the Xie manor; I am not going anywhere." Her fingers slowly stroked the copper scissors as she spoke softly, "If I were to leave at this moment, wouldn't I be failing my original intention?" In this month, she had endured so much mockery; what reason did she have to retreat now?

Baoxian understood her heart, so she didn't say anything more. She tilted her head, looking through the lattice window at the courtyard outside. The rain seemed to have let up, but a misty, hazy drizzle permeated everything. With the weather as it was and so few people in the courtyard, the Danyue Pavilion looked all the more desolate and lonely.

"We must find a way to get a few more people over here," Baoxian said while wiping the edge of the table. "The other young ladies' courtyards have at least ten maids and matrons combined. Not to mention anything else, adding even two rough servants would be good for us."

Qingyuan had her own plans and said slowly, "No rush. Sooner or later, we won't be short of people." She paused, then asked, "The person I asked you to inquire about—have you found her?"

Baoxian said, "Just now, Nanny Xia had Chuntai send word that everyone who served the concubine back then was sent to various places. Now, there is only one old woman left, working as a menial servant in the servants' quarters."

Qingyuan nodded. Newcomers were never as useful as those who had been there before. That she had been bullied into becoming a menial servant showed that no one had taken her seriously for years. She had to find a way to get that woman in; having served her mother, she might be able to find out something from her.

"Have someone keep a close watch and see who she has been in contact with lately..."

Just as she was giving instructions, she faintly heard voices outside and stopped. She lifted the curtain and looked out. A little maid was standing at the doorway, and Chuntai asked, "What are you here for?"

The little maid said, "Please tell the Fourth Miss that the Old Madam is inviting the Fourth Miss to come to the front."

Chuntai responded with an "oh." Just as the little maid turned to leave after delivering the message, Chuntai called her back, "Is it only our Miss being invited, or are all four young ladies invited?"

The little maid said, "All of them. Please be quick, sister; it won't be good if you're late."

Chuntai quickly came inside, eagerly picking up the comb to dress Qingyuan's hair and change her clothes, saying, "The Old Madam has finally remembered to let the Miss meet guests. Let us dress up nicely so the people outside can see our Miss's flair."

Servants naturally hoped their masters would do well, as the servants would only gain face if their masters did. But for Qingyuan, this was hardly good news. Because going over meant being a mere accessory, and she would likely end up stirring up trouble for herself.

However, since she had been called, she could not refuse to go. Chuntai went to insert a dangling hair ornament into her hair, but Qingyuan took it back out. She chose a small gold-plated hairpin with kingfisher feathers instead, wearing it merely as a subtle adornment. It was enough.

The path from Danyue Pavilion to the front courtyard where guests were entertained required passing through a long, narrow corridor. The architecture of Hengtang consisted of horse-head walls one after another, with simple doors opening from the walls. At first glance, there was no one in the corridor, but one could never be certain if they might suddenly cross paths with someone along the way.

Today, that was exactly what happened. Just as she reached the middle of the path, the wall-door in front opened. A figure with sloped shoulders and a long neck, dressed in a cloud-patterned brocade, emerged gracefully, accompanied by a tall, thin maid who held an umbrella high above her head as if she were shading an emperor.

Since they had bumped into each other, they had to exchange greetings. Qingyuan called out, "Second Sister," but her courtesy did not earn her any kindness in return.

Counting Qingyuan, the Xie family had three sons and four daughters. The eldest son, Zhengze, and the second daughter, Qingru, were born to Madam Hu. The third daughter, Qingrong, had been raised by Madam Hu after her birth mother was poisoned. Concubine Lian had given birth to the eldest daughter, Qinghe, while the second son, Zhenglun, and the third son, Zhengjun, were both under Concubine Mei. The three factions in this great mansion operated independently; only Qingyuan was on her own. When she first arrived at the Xie family, everyone looked at her as if she were a pathetic cat or dog. After all, her mother had killed someone out of jealousy. For a family of the Xie's status, accepting a child born to a murderess was entirely out of the mercy of the Old Madam, the Master, and the Madam.

As the legitimate daughter, Qingru looked down on Qingyuan from the bottom of her heart, naturally compounded by the jealousy that came from losing in the unspoken beauty contest between young girls. The look Qingru gave Qingyuan was always filled with contempt, her head held high, pointing her pointed chin directly at her. She habitually scoffed, "What? You are going to the front as well?"

Qingyuan knew how to lower her status and be humble, replying in a soft voice, "Someone came to my courtyard to pass on the word, and I just happened to run into you, Second Sister, on the way."

Qingru couldn't stand her sweet, sticky tone—the hallmark of a born concubine. She sneered, turned her face away, and said, "If I were you, I would rather claim illness and not go. After all, it's embarrassing to show your face in public. If the Prefect's wife asks, I fear the Old Madam will be put in a difficult spot and find it hard to answer."

After speaking, she turned and headed south. Her maid, Lüzhui, acting on her signal, suddenly tilted the umbrella surface to knock into Baoxian. The rainwater gathered on the top of the umbrella poured down along a single spoke, soaking Qingyuan entirely.

Baoxian grew anxious, stamping her feet and wanting to argue with Lüzhui, "Hey, you..."

Qingyuan told her to forget it. She looked down and saw that the sprouts-green satin of her clothing, once soaked, began to stain as the moisture spread. The wet patches darkened, looking quite different from the dry parts.

Baoxian let out a long, heavy sigh, her voice filled with resentment, "You can't go see anyone looking like this. Let's go back and change. If we hurry, we might just make it in time."

Qingyuan shook her head, "I'll go as I am."

Baoxian hesitated, "If the dampness stays on your body, what will you do if you catch a cold? It’s been raining for two days, and the weather has turned cold again."

Qingyuan raised her hand, touched the water stain on her shoulder, and smiled, "It would be better to be ill. I only fear I won't be able to get ill.”