Madam Jiang jumped, glancing around in alarm. "Fourth girl! What are you doing here?"
Qingyuan went on fanning herself, unhurried. "I stained my clothes earlier and went back to change. I was just heading to the front when I ran into you, Aunt. Why aren't you at the feast? What brings you out here?"
Madam Jiang's heart thudded. A mere slip of a girl was nothing to fear, but if she carried those words to Madam Hu, neither side would come out of it with any dignity.
"Our madam dropped a handkerchief and is going back to fetch it," the maid beside her said quickly, seeing that her mistress had gone silent.
Madam Jiang was a straightforward woman in this respect: a person who does a thing should own it. With four people and eight ears there, she saw no point in staging a confrontation that would shame them all. She looked at Qingyuan. "How much of what I said did you hear, Fourth Miss?"
Qingyuan smiled. "Only something about the men becoming slaves and the women becoming courtesans. I was about to ask whether some thoughtless person had offended you, Second Aunt."
Madam Jiang felt more guilty than ever. She could hardly believe those words had come out of her own mouth. In the past she would not have worried. However fierce Madam Hu was, the Eldest Master was away from home, and with no husband to back her, she wouldn't have dared do much. Now things were different. The Eldest Master was back, a general of the second rank who had spilled blood on battlefields for years and had once cut off heads as casually as a child plays marbles. If he lost his temper, she would be no match for him.
The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became, and she glared at Qingyuan. "You're only a child, Fourth Miss, and you shouldn't say such things so lightly. You haven't been back in the Xie house long, so you don't know how strict the rules are here. One slip and you'll burn yourself. It's best to let it go in one ear and out the other."
Qingyuan said nothing. She only looked at her with a smile, and under that gaze Madam Jiang's tongue went numb. She put on a stern face. "What are you smiling at? You wear that smile all day long. The ones who smile the most are always the ones with the most scheming in their bellies."
At that, Qingyuan stopped smiling. "If I don't smile when I meet an elder, should I cry instead?" she said helplessly. "Don't be angry, Aunt. I won't tell anyone."
But now that she had agreed, Madam Jiang felt even less at ease. She had meant to leave, yet her feet hesitated, and she eyed Qingyuan sidelong. "If you're not going to tell anyone, just keep it in your belly. Why come show your face to me?"
"Because I understand Second Aunt's heart," Qingyuan said, and couldn't help smiling again. "Second Aunt is a forthright woman who can't stand barbed remarks. It's only that Second Uncle lost out by birth order. If it had been Second Uncle who was recommended back then, your temperament would have suited a general's wife even better. To be honest, I envy a temper like yours, Aunt. I'm not like that. I have to be careful about everything and wear a smile everywhere I go."
Madam Jiang was disliked by everyone, people and dogs alike, and not one of the younger generation was willing to give her face. Hearing Qingyuan say this, she suddenly thought the girl was rather pitiable. She had a proper birth, yet she lived like someone dependent on others. Besides, Qingyuan had touched on the sorest wound in her heart. She had always believed that if Second Master had been given the post, they would not have ended up like a draggled sparrow. So she simply spoke her mind. "That stepmother of yours is no decent person. You may not be her own child, but you call her Mother, and she has no business mistreating you."
Baoxian seized the opening and added in a low voice, "Second Madam is quite right, but there's nothing to be done. The gap between a legitimate daughter and a concubine's daughter is as wide as heaven and earth... I heard the other day that the old lady and our madam are arranging a match between Second Miss and the Marquis of Danyang's eldest legitimate son. Some die of drought while others drown in floods, and if it comes off, our madam will be better off still."
"The Marquis of Danyang's legitimate son?" Madam Jiang said in surprise. "She has some nerve! No wonder, though. She's been seething because the Founding Earl's house would sooner take a concubine's daughter than one of her legitimate ones. Now she's holding her breath and means to marry Second Miss even higher before she'll rest." She thought of her own two daughters, whose in-laws were all grubby little households, and of how Madam Hu, with a fine new connection, would look down on everyone even more. She curled her lip and sneered. "That Second Miss is sharp and gives no one an inch. I can see she has an unlucky face. And she still hopes to marry into the Danyang Marquis's house? Let's see whether she has the fortune for it." With that she didn't linger, but swayed off toward the end of the passage with her maid.
Qingyuan turned to Baoxian with a smile. "Let's go."
Baoxian supported her arm as they walked slowly the other way. Neither spoke, but each understood the other. It was not easy for a girl in the women's quarters to leave the house, unlike the mistresses who came and went as they pleased. Someone like Madam Jiang had always coveted the main branch's fortunes. Once she learned the truth, she was bound to make trouble.
The mistress and maid went on to the front hall as if nothing had happened, to join the festivities. It was a rare occasion for the master to be home, so naturally outside guests had been invited. Men and women were seated in separate places across a small courtyard, the men to the east and the women to the west. When Qingyuan came in, the ladies in the hall were chatting in small groups. Qingshe had just stepped away from the knot of married women, and when she saw Qingyuan she came over and glanced meaningfully toward the east. "The young marquis is here too."
Qingyuan followed her words and looked east without meaning to. Qingshe smiled. "Take a vase, for instance. It sits there pleasing to look at, and no one ever thinks of taking it into their own room. Then suddenly someone bursts in, weeping and making a scene, determined to claim it. Doesn't the vase seem better than it did before?"
Qingyuan looked away, thinking there was real sense in that. It wasn't that the vase was so fine. One simply didn't want the person making the scene to get it cheaply.
But she answered vaguely. "What are you talking about, Eldest Sister!"
Qingshe smiled and didn't reply.
When there were outsiders present, Qingru was good at keeping her edges sheathed. She sat quietly beside her mother like a slender vase set apart from the world. The female guests were all ladies of standing, and in their circle a good reputation mattered a great deal; being a legitimate daughter was no easy matter either. Qingyuan and Qingshe were much more relaxed. They found a corner to sit in and talked off and on, now and then looking through the lattice window at the sky. It was a dull gray, as if it were about to rain.
Sure enough, it drizzled on and off after noon, and the spring rain washed the banana plants in the courtyard a deeper green. At this hour the relatives and friends were at leisure and gathered to decide how to pass the time. The maids set up a card game in the inner room, and after some polite deferring the ladies settled in. Qingyuan watched her sisters play two rounds of shuanglu, and as she watched she grew sleepy. She slipped away to the next room, covered her mouth, and gave a careful yawn.
When she raised her eyes again, they were watery, and as she focused she saw someone standing outside the carved window, watching her with something like a smile. Qingyuan was startled and stood frozen, regretting that she hadn't noticed eyes outside the window, when he politely called out, "Fourth Sister."
There was a special tenderness in that "Fourth Sister," something worth savoring on the tongue. In the past she would probably have smiled and let it pass. This time she considered for a moment, then stood up and made a curtsy to him. "So Third Young Master is here too."
Li Congxin was delighted that she was willing to speak. Through the window he said with a smile, "There's no need to be so formal, Fourth Sister. From now on, just call me Third Brother... or Chunzhi, if you like."
He was a gentle man, and when he smiled his eyes had a tender look. Looking at him, Qingyuan thought privately that he wasn't unpleasant. Perhaps it was as Qingshe said: when no one is competing for something, it's treated as ordinary, and the moment someone fights for it, it turns into a treasure.
In truth, it is easy to tell whether someone is interested in you. Qingyuan was slow about such things, but she had begun to sense it faintly. He had come twice now, and both times he had stolen a moment from his business to greet her. She understood this, yet she was still a little dazed, wondering where it had all begun. It surely couldn't be love at first sight.
"I think I'll still call you Third Young Master," she said slowly, with a bashful smile. "Why aren't you playing with the others? How did you end up over here?"
"Oh," he said. "They're playing chuiwan. I left the field to wander around a bit and ended up here... I didn't expect Fourth Sister to be here too."
Qingyuan looked toward the corridor. There was only one passage from the east courtyard, and a screen had been set up in the middle of it during the banquet precisely to keep male guests from straying over. With the rain falling as it was, he would have had to cross under the eaves and through the dripping water to reach this side. That was hardly "wandering around."
Her clear, lovely eyes moved to his shoulder. Seeing that his lie wouldn't hold up, Li Congxin brushed at his clothes, which the rain had dampened, and smiled awkwardly.
"Did Fourth Sister drink wine at noon?"
Qingyuan shook her head. "Why do you ask?"
"Your face is a little red," he said, half joking.
Qingyuan was taken aback, annoyed that he was teasing her. She put her hand on the stick propping the window open, signaling that she was going to close it.
"Don't," he said quickly, and held up a small box of carved red lacquer. "These are goose-yellow pastries, made in our kitchen. I meant to give them to you as soon as I arrived, but I never found the chance."
Qingyuan looked down at the box, unsure whether to take it. "Our kitchen makes pastries too," she murmured. "There's no need to bring them specially for me."
"Every household has its own flavor. Take it." He held it up a little higher. A drop of eaves water had fallen into his hair a moment ago and had taken all this time to run down to his temple. It crawled there, and the sensation set off an itch. He raised a hand and wiped it away, and that one small movement had the sincerity of a boy's.
Qingyuan finally took it and said with a smile, "Thank you. My sisters are all here, so I'll share them with them."
Li Congxin said that was good. He was about to say more when someone in the east called out "Chunzhi." There was nothing for it. "I'm going back," he said to Qingyuan. "I'll come and see you again in a couple of days." Then he went off through the rain, turned around the screen, and headed to the east courtyard. That last sentence, "I'll come and see you again in a couple of days," fell like a raindrop on water and sent a ripple spreading outward.
Qingyuan looked down. The box was still warm; he must have kept it close against his body the whole time. She pulled open the little drawer. The goose-yellow pastries inside were exquisitely made, each only the size of a fingertip, packed in neat rows. A rough count came to twenty or thirty.
"Oh, Fourth Sister is in luck." Qingrong's "oh" was drawn out, shrill and long.
Qingyuan knew at once that this was bad. She turned, and sure enough, her two sisters were standing in the doorway.
Qingru had the look of a woman facing a rival. Because outside guests were present she couldn't spit at her, but her eyes were like knives, each cut drawing blood. Qingrong fanned the flames, afraid the situation wouldn't turn ugly enough. She glanced out at the veranda beyond the window. "Who was that? Wasn't it the Li family's young marquis? He's probably brought Fourth Sister a love token!"
Qingru couldn't hold back after that provocation and said through gritted teeth, "Fourth Sister has real skill. It's lucky your mother died early. If she'd lived a few years longer, you'd have disgraced the Xie family completely."
Their harsh words had once left Qingyuan at a loss. Now she suddenly felt calm and said with a smile, "You've misunderstood, Sisters. It's only a box of food..." Before she could finish, she saw over their shoulders that Madam Hu was coming through the latticed doors from the other side, accompanying the old lady and the prefect's wife and others. So she opened the box and held it out to Qingru, saying softly, "The young marquis brought these goose-yellow pastries and asked that you try some, Sisters."
Qingru's temper flared higher. She saw that Qingyuan was flaunting it in front of her. The pastries in the box were beautifully made, but they were also painfully eye-catching. "Who asked you to play the generous one?" she spat, and swept her sleeve, slapping the box to the floor. The whole box of pastries, like so many game pieces, scattered and rolled across the ground.