Wang Shi turned the blame neatly back on him, and with such seeming reason—argument stacked on argument—that Tang Gang, though choking for words, could only raise his voice in fury. “What nonsense are you spouting?”
“Is it not so?”
Wang Shi pressed the advantage. “There are too many doubtful points here with no proper explanation.”
The more Tang Gang found himself unable to rebut, the more irate he became. “This matter has nothing to do with me! It happened ages ago—why keep worrying at it?”
In truth he suspected it had been Tang Rong’s design from the start. At the beginning he had not thought it unforgivable: the Tao family held office; Tao Yiran’s reputation was sterling; compared with Xin An she was, of course, a better match for his heir of the Marquisate. Who could have known that Tao Yiran would prove gilt outside and rotten within—slipping right through his fingers.
Fearing that if Wang Shi kept digging she would end up beating Tang Rong half to death, he changed the subject. “The Second’s household is getting along tolerably now—what need is there to rake up the past?”
“Best think instead on how to lessen the impact of yesterday’s affair on the Marquisate.”
Wang Shi’s lips curved; inwardly she gave a cold snort. “An illness that lingers on and on—this will not do. Physicians have come one after another and yet can write no prescription. Beyond telling her to rest more, they have nothing to say. Better that my lord invite an Imperial Physician into the residence. Use the pretext of asking him to take Mother’s ‘peace pulse’ and have him examine her as well.”
“Mother means to have some humble servant carry the result of the Imperial Physician’s inquiry to the Tao household.”
“A daughter ill-taught—naturally they must answer for it.”
“Also, I shall personally go to the Count of Changning’s residence tomorrow. As for the Countess, I will see to her with due tact. The Count himself will require you to step forward, my lord.”
Tang Gang found this workable; a measure of ease returned to his breast. Thinking how Wang Shi must still labor to set the matter to rights and, upon her return, how vast her temper might be, he softened and spoke a few pleasant words. He even sent over several rare curios, saying they were lately acquired.
Wang Shi accepted them without ceremony. It had to be said: ever since she stopped granting Tang Gang any easy smiles, he had become markedly more accommodating.
That night, the moment Tang Rong returned to the Marquisate, Steward Zhang invited him to the study—where Tang Gang showered him with a tongue-lashing before he could so much as sit. For this matter, the marquis had parted with several more rare items; in Tang Gang’s mind, all was Tao Yiran’s fault.
Tang Rong had already felt no face to meet his colleagues today; any glance that lingered struck him as mockery. He came home simmering, only to be scolded raw by Tang Gang—his chest all the more stifled for it. Back in his courtyard he went straight to Concubine Yue’s rooms and, once he entered, did not come out again, leaving Tao Yiran to stew in fresh misery.
One wall away, in Autumn Harvest Courtyard, Tang Mo and Xin An, having washed, sat cross-legged on the bed, exchanging the harvest of the Water-Flower Banquet and discussing their next steps. Learning that Madame Tao and Tao Yiran had meant to strike three birds with one arrow, Tang Mo flared with wrath. Fortunately, Xin An’s steady presence kept his temper from breaking loose.
Teeth clenched, he bit out, “Whether they succeeded or not, the intent was there. If they dared make the first move, they cannot blame me for striking on the fifteenth. Leave this matter aside—I must make the Tao family pay a little price.”
Xin An arched a brow. “And how do you propose to do that?”
Tang Mo gave a cold snort. “Tao Yiran’s elder brother, Tao Weike, is the Tao clan’s future. If mother and daughter wish to ruin me, I shall ruin him first. I’ve a plan already—wait and see.”
Since he had said as much, Xin An did not press him. The two turned to the matter of the Second Prince and murmured on, low and long, until deep into the night.
The next day was a rest day. Tang Mo had planned to take Xin An out for a jaunt, but upon hearing an Imperial Physician would be visiting, decided to stay and watch the show. The physician first took Old Madame Tang’s peace pulse—a customary blessing—and found the matriarch sound in body, as one would expect. Then it was Tao Yiran’s turn. She had received no word beforehand; by the time the news reached her, the Imperial Physician was nearly at Autumn Harvest Courtyard, leaving her no chance to refuse.
The Imperial Physician felt her pulse for quite a while and spoke at length in the high language of his art; the crux, however, was this: “From the pulse, the Marquisate’s Eldest Young Madam shows no sign of a wasting ailment. On the contrary, her constitution is solid. As for the chest tightness and lightheadedness, these arise from excessive brooding. No need for medicine. Best not lie abed without cause—walk more, ease the mind, and do not overthink.”
The man was a deft one; he stopped only a hair short of saying outright that Tao Yiran was, in truth, sturdy as an ox; her discomfort stemmed from too much scheming and too small a heart.
It was, one must admit, two parts satisfying.
Tang Mo’s expression mirrored Tang Rong’s—after all, one was the former, the other the present: both had experienced Tao Yiran’s “frailty,” both had believed it implicitly and fretted over it.
Wang Shi hastened to offer thanks, palms pressed together as she murmured “Amitabha.” Beaming, she turned to Tao Yiran. “You heard the Imperial Physician. Doctor Wu’s skill is unsurpassed—his diagnosis cannot possibly be wrong. That Doctor Qin you consulted before must have been a quack—misdiagnosed you, and we worried all these years for nothing.”
“Your health is sound—that is a great joy. We must inform your mother, so that she may rejoice as well and be spared needless concern.”
Not waiting for Tao Yiran to refuse, she gave brisk orders: “Go to the Tao residence at once and deliver this happy news to Madame Tao.”
Tao Yiran was utterly stupefied, as if someone had lifted the fig leaf that hid her shame. Nanny Liu sensed at once that Wang Shi’s people must not be the ones to carry the message to the Tao household—but as a servant, what say had she?
Tang Mo escorted the Imperial Physician out personally. Halfway along, he slipped him a purse in secret and begged him to take his pulse as well. In this life he meant to live long; he would not die early a second time.
“The Second Young Master has no grave complaint—only a touch of deficiency,” said the physician. “But this cannot be mended by tonics. Move more—practice the Five-Animal Exercises now and then, and you will do well.”
Most scions of the capital were of tender constitution; men like that Liao fellow—whose blood and vigor could topple an ox—were rare indeed.
The Imperial Physician had long ceased to be startled by such things.
Relieved, Tang Mo asked earnestly for methods of preserving health. The physician, taking him for a dutiful grandson inquiring on behalf of the old matriarch, imparted several practices and even praised his filial piety.
The messenger the Marquis’s household sent to the Tao residence was merely a sweeper from the front court. To be entrusted with such an errand, he threw himself into it with uncommon zeal. Marquis Tang Gang’s anger had not yet cooled when the Taos received the news. It happened to be a rest day, and all the Tao sons were at home. Hearing that someone from the Marquis’s manor had come with a message, they gathered in curiosity; thus, in one sweep, everyone learned that Tao Yiran was hale and hearty.
Madame Tao felt her vision dim. Steadying herself, she asked evenly, “What put it into your heads to invite an Imperial Physician? Was the Old Madam of your house unwell?”
The sweeper, well coached in advance, bowed with cupped hands. “To reply to Madam: it was not the Old Madam who felt unwell. Yesterday, our Eldest Young Madam fainted without cause. My lady grew most anxious, and the Marquis was greatly concerned as well. So today, under the pretext of asking the Imperial Physician to take the Old Madam’s ‘peace pulse,’ we had him examine the Eldest Young Madam.”
“Upon learning there was nothing amiss with Eldest Young Madam’s health, my lady was overjoyed and sent me to deliver the good news to you, Madam, that you might share in our delight.”
“She also said that in years past you must have been deceived by a quack, and that you have fretted in vain all this time.”
Madame Tao felt a stab beneath her ribs, yet her face remained composed as she asked which physician had been invited.
“It was Imperial Physician Wu.”
Madame Tao nodded, then looked the sweeper over. “Do you serve at the Marchioness’s side? I don’t recall seeing you before.”
The sweeper answered, “This humble one tends the sweeping in the front yard of the Marquis’s manor. The household is busy today, so the housekeeper sent me in her stead.”
“A sweeper from the front yard?”