Spring in the capital was a season of shifting blossoms—plums fading, peaches bursting into bloom, pear flowers and begonias drifting like snowflakes. It was the perfect time for families to stroll together or host flower‑viewing banquets.
Though the new Marquis held the emperor’s favour and had been appointed governor of the Central Army, the household remained cautious. Mrs. Yongcheng Hou, ever mindful of appearances, considered holding a spring banquet so her daughters might be seen by noblewomen and secure marriages.
Coincidentally, her cousin’s granddaughter had arrived to visit. Delighted, the matriarch placed the girl in Qingxue Garden, the most beautiful corner of the estate. That left Mrs. Hou scrambling for another venue.
Her confidant suggested, “Why not use the back garden? It’s spacious and bright.”
But Mrs. Hou sighed. How could the back garden compare to the Taihu rockery and centuries‑old pear trees of the upper courtyard?
The maid pressed further, “Perhaps ask the matriarch to move the cousin to Yuchuntang? This year, your daughters’ marriages matter more than a distant relative.”
Mrs. Hou’s sharp glance silenced her. Then, lowering her voice, she whispered: “Second Aunt.”
The maid froze. Memories stirred—an old scandal from twenty‑five years ago. During the Shangyuan Festival, the second lady had been abducted while watching lanterns. To preserve the family’s honor, the old Marquis concealed the crime, declaring her dead. In truth, she had survived, only to be cast out.
Mrs. Hou explained softly, “The matriarch begged for her daughter, but the old Marquis refused. Her grief blinded one eye. Later, I found Second Aunt myself, but Father denied her, calling her an impostor. Only through my uncle’s help was she spared. Since then, she severed ties. She married into the Wang family of Shu, bore a son and daughter. This cousin is her only girl.”
The maid gasped. “So that is her origin…”
Mrs. Hou nodded. “The aunt sent gifts day and night before the girl’s arrival. Clearly, she seeks a good marriage for her daughter. And only our name can secure it.”
The maid murmured, “Poor Second Aunt… yet now she bows to us for her child.”
Mrs. Hou’s expression was heavy. “That is why no one may slight the cousin. She is untouchable.”
From then, even trivial complaints—like the cousin disdaining poorly aged autumn oil—were treated with care. Mrs. Hou ordered fresh delicacies sent to her, ensuring no servant dared disrespect her again.
Meanwhile, in Qingxue Garden, Cousin Wang Xi wore a pink brocade cloak embroidered with iris blossoms. Leaning from the warm pavilion atop the rockery, she peered through a cloisonné telescope into the neighboring estate’s bamboo grove.
There, a figure in white danced with a sword.
The blade flashed like liquid silver, then like lightning, stirring winds that sent leaves flying. Even at a distance, Wang Xi felt the power in his movements—majestic, unyielding.
“Magnificent!” she whispered, cheeks flushed.
She leaned further, maids gasping in alarm. Bai Guo rushed to steady her waist, murmuring, “Miss, be careful.”
But Wang Xi’s eyes stayed fixed on the swordsman. Through the lens she saw him clearly—a young man, broad‑shouldered, long‑legged, hair bound high, silk garments clinging to his lithe frame as he spun.
Her heart raced. If only I could see his face…
Even unseen, his bearing was extraordinary. This is what a true man should be.
Her maid Red Silk beamed. “Miss, I told you! He’s far superior to Aunt Gongsun, the master’s guest swordswoman. Compared to him, she’s nothing.”
Wang Xi rewarded her with silver hairpins, but when she turned back, the courtyard was empty, only fallen leaves scattered across the ground.
“Ah…” she sighed in disappointment. “Will he dance again tomorrow? If only I could see his face…”
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