The seventh day after death marked the final mourning rite. After that, came the formal encoffining.
By then, Jinchao’s two maternal uncles had arrived from Tongzhou to offer incense before the spirit tablet. Ji Shi’s burial plot had been chosen at Xicui Mountain, and Daoist Chen had been invited to divine a favorable day for the funeral rites. It was set for the seventeenth of the fifth month.
Before the coffin could be sent off, the family would first host a “farewell banquet”—a mourning meal to thank the relatives and friends coming to attend the procession.
These affairs could not be entrusted to Second Madam. As before, it was Xu Mama who handled them in Jinchao’s name.
Gu Jinrong, dressed in a pale blue robe with a square of mourning hemp sewn to the chest, appeared at the banquet, pale and thin, to thank the guests.
Jinchao observed him for a moment. Though wan and weary, he did not seem broken.
…That was something, at least.
After a glance at her father among the guests, Jinchao quietly left the banquet hall and made her way alone to Xiexiao Courtyard.
The mourning hall had been dismantled, and all her mother’s belongings removed and burned—it was customary when one died an unnatural death. The brocade quilt, ceremonial pillows, bed curtains—all were gone. The room felt hollow and still. Jinchao sat by the window on the kang bed, gazing at the lacquered furniture, watching sunlight stream in through the carved screens, slipping away in quiet beams of gold.
Was this how Mother had passed her days—waiting, day by day? How similar it was to Jinchao’s own life in the side courtyard of her past life.
She looked down at her hands, and a wave of sorrow overwhelmed her. She had thought that by being reborn, she could prevent her mother’s death.
But her mother had died all the same.
These past days, she had kept herself occupied, as if distracting herself from grief. But now, with everything stilled, that sorrow returned in full.
With a long breath, she rose and walked into the inner room. Even the plum-blossom vase of pale celadon her mother had loved was gone, once placed on the small side table. The bed was bare—nothing left but a single sachet hanging from a carved bedpost, its silken cord still knotted.
Jinchao took it down and held it in her palm. It was the very sachet she’d prepared on New Year’s Eve, after eating those two gold beans to pray for her mother’s health.
She cast one last glance at the inner room where her mother had lived, and her chest clenched tight.
Her mother’s death—part of it was her fault. She had long known that Song Yiniang harbored malice, yet she had still allowed the woman the chance to strike. Seeing her mother’s death firsthand, she had blamed her brother, her father… but more than anything, she was furious at her own helplessness.
Jinchao inhaled sharply and shut the door behind her.
Mother’s vengeance—I will repay it slowly. In life, I could not protect you. In death, I will punish those who harmed you.
Exiting Xiexiao Courtyard, she passed by the lakeside pavilion. There, blooming quietly by the water’s edge, were the jasmine pin flowers her mother had always loved. Their white, slender petals gleamed like jade amid the leaves, exuding a soft fragrance.
She stepped forward and paused. When she was younger, whenever her mother visited her at the Ji residence, she would always pick a string of these blossoms and place them in her room for the scent.
A faint smile touched her lips. As long as I live, the memory of my mother will not die. In a way… perhaps she hasn’t truly left at all.
She still missed her, remembered the things they once shared. And since her mother could not be brought back, then she would live on—not just survive, but live vividly, brilliantly.
Lost in thought as she gazed at the flowers, she was suddenly yanked backward.
A soft whiff of medicine drifted into her nose.
It was a gentle, familiar scent—subtly warm and comforting. Her mother had always carried a faint medicinal fragrance as well.
Startled, Jinchao turned—and found herself facing Ye Xian. His hand was still gripping the sleeve of her robe, the herbal scent clinging faintly to him.
She stepped back at once, confused and wary. This was the inner courtyard of the Gu residence. Ye Xian was only a distant relative—and a man at that. How could he enter here so casually? And worse, he had touched her!
Ye Xian let go of her sleeve and frowned.
“What were you doing by the lake? Planning to jump in and end it all?”
Jinchao pursed her lips and almost laughed. She bowed slightly.
“What brings you here, uncle?”
She glanced behind him and saw that his page boy had followed, and only then did she feel relieved. Had anyone seen the two of them alone in the inner courtyard—it would have been a scandal impossible to explain away.
Ye Xian had grown bored at the banquet and come looking for Gu Jinchao. He needed to speak with her about Mr. Xiao. Not finding her at the tables, he had taken his page boy and wandered into the inner residence. The main gate was unmanned in all the funeral commotion, and he had slipped through easily.
Then, seeing Jinchao standing alone by the lake, he had assumed the worst.
After all, her mother had just passed.
But now, looking at her, it seemed he had misunderstood.
Ye Xian tucked his hands into his sleeves and said,
“I only came to tell you… Mr. Xiao arrived in Zhending yesterday. If you wish to see him, you still can. Your mother’s death was… not ordinary. Letting Mr. Xiao examine the case wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Jinchao shook her head.
“I troubled Mr. Xiao to come all this way, but it won’t be necessary now. Still, I thank you, uncle.”
She bowed again and prepared to leave.
Ye Xian, lazily, added,
“He was planning a trip to Yanjing anyway, to consult with my grandfather. It’s no trouble.”
Then his tone shifted, curious:
“If you weren’t planning to jump into the lake, what were you doing?”
Jinchao paused, lifting her eyes to look at him.
His features were fine as carved jade, every line delicate. He always wore those pale moon-white robes, understated but elegant. People like him were often stubborn to the core.
She recalled what Ye Xian had done in her past life and instinctively thought to keep her distance. Back then, he was someone all the capital feared—ruthless and calculating. Anyone who crossed him, even slightly, met a swift and often silent end.
But he was also fiercely capable. With his father gone and his grandfather passed, he alone had propped up the entire Marquis of Changxing estate and led it to immense power and prosperity.
Someone like that… was not a man to antagonize.
Especially when he had helped her greatly during her mother’s illness.
Jinchao smiled faintly.
“Just admiring the flowers. Beauty never lasts long—it’s best to enjoy it while it blooms.”
She gave a final bow and walked away.
Ye Xian stood watching for a moment. Then, with a lift of his brow, he said to his page,
“Go send a pot of cactus to the Gu family’s eldest young lady. She says flowers don’t last long—well, that one lives forever, and is easy to keep alive.”
The page blinked in astonishment. Cacti were rare imports from the Western Regions. The Marquis of Changxing’s estate had only a few scattered along Liuye Alley.
Before he could respond, Ye Xian had already turned and started back toward the outer court.
The page boy obediently followed after him. So what if it was a cactus? As long as the Young Master was happy, he’d flip the entire Marquis of Changxing estate upside down if asked!
But as for Jinchao, she gave the matter no further thought.
After her mother’s burial, there was still much to settle in Xiexiao Courtyard. The residence needed to be put in order, and Ji Shi’s two personal maids, Moxue and Moyu, had come of age. It was time for them to leave the household and marry.
Jinchao asked Tong Mama to arrange good matches for them. Moyu was betrothed to the eldest son of Steward Ji, who oversaw one of the farms registered under her mother’s name. Moxue was matched with Luo Yongping’s nephew, a budding scholar who had passed the preliminary examination last year and whose family owned a few fertile acres of land.
To each of them, Jinchao gifted a two-courtyard residence and a dowry of one hundred taels of silver.
Both Moyu and Moxue left the Gu household with tear-streaked faces, their eyes red from crying. They had served Ji Shi since youth and were the people she had raised and relied upon. Fortunately, they were marrying into the households of her mother’s trusted retainers—these men would not treat them unfairly.
Now that Xu Mama was an elder of the household, she came to reside in Qingtong Courtyard with Jinchao. Tong Mama continued managing affairs within the courtyard, while Xu Mama attended to matters in the larger inner residence. Their roles complemented one another without conflict. The rest of the lower-ranking maids and matrons were distributed according to the arrangements of the household affairs office.
At this time, Madam Ji was preparing to return to Tongzhou with Eldest Madam Ji and Liu Shi. They had been delayed in Shian for far too long, and matters in Tongzhou had surely piled up, awaiting her judgment and oversight.
Before departing, Madam Ji reminded Jinchao several times to visit Tongzhou in the near future.
“…The water lilies by your courtyard are blooming again. You mustn’t miss them.”
Jinchao smiled and promised, seeing her grandmother off to the carriage.
Since Ji Shi’s passing, Madam Ji looked much wearier, visibly aged by several years.
There is no sorrow deeper than that of white-haired elders burying their black-haired children. Jinchao understood this. Though her grandmother never voiced her grief nor let it show, how could a mother who had loved so deeply not feel heartbreak?
Meanwhile, Gu Lan was overjoyed to learn that Concubine Song was with child. Every few days, she would visit Linyan Pavilion, bringing all kinds of nourishing delicacies and tonics.
Concubine Song, now attended by two young maids who had only just come of age, found them clumsy and unsuited to her needs. Seeing this, Gu Lan left her own maid Banlian behind to help care for her mother.
One afternoon, she arrived again with supplements, gently touched her mother’s belly, and said with a bright smile,
“You’re going to give me a little brother.”
At her words, a shadow passed through Concubine Song’s expression. Even with the pregnancy, Gu Deshao had not come to see her—not even once.
She sighed and said to Gu Lan,
“You should visit me less frequently. Don’t provoke your father’s displeasure. Are you still speaking with Gu Jinrong these days?”
Gu Lan shook her head and replied,
“There’s no need to worry about that. Father dislikes me regardless. Seeing you won’t change that. As for Gu Jinrong… he’s been holed up in his study copying the Diamond Sutra every day. He hasn’t even returned to Qifang Hutong for his studies. He’s still sulking. If I went to see him now, I’d only be asking for trouble…”
In the wake of Ji Shi’s death, the entire Gu household was still in disarray. Gu Deshao had arranged for a tutor to teach Gu Lan the formal script used in court documents. She had scarcely left her courtyard these days.
She knew that because of her mother’s actions, her father now wanted nothing to do with her.
Yet Gu Lan didn’t feel especially panicked. After all, her mother was carrying a child. With Ji Shi gone, the Mu family engagement was off the table. That alone felt like a weight lifted. At this point, there was nothing she could do to undo the past—better to wait until her mother gave birth. Then… opportunities would come again.
As for Gu Jinrong—he was someone who needed to be coaxed. Once his temper cooled, she could cry a little, coax him a little, and things would smooth over again.
Watching her daughter’s expression, Concubine Song considered for a moment but ultimately chose not to mention that Gu Deshao had never once come to see her since the pregnancy was confirmed.
Soon after, Banlian brought over the soup—cordyceps with milk-braised pigeon. Concubine Song accepted the bowl and stared at it for a long moment.
“This… You brought the cordyceps?”
Gu Lan nodded.
“You’re carrying a child with a weak constitution. You must be well nourished.”
She added,
“Though you’ve lost power for the moment, it’s not hopeless. You’re pregnant with Father’s child, and after managing the inner residence for so long, none of the stewards dare treat you lightly. I got this from the steward of the household affairs office… Father didn’t offer these to you. He clearly doesn’t intend to.”
She lowered her voice,
“But while Mother was still alive, the Ji family had sent over many rare and precious tonic herbs. They’ve all been stored in the outer courtyard’s warehouse and were never recorded in the household inventory. So I borrowed them… to honor you instead.”
Concubine Song gave a slight nod. The stewards from the household office had always been loyal to her. She glanced at Banlian standing beside them and whispered to Gu Lan,
“…Find out what happened to Qiaowei. I still prefer to be attended by her.”
Gu Lan smiled.
“Don’t worry. I’ll ask the steward of the attendants’ quarters tomorrow.”
Is something wrong with the herbs?