Jinchao told Caifu to light a censer of mint incense. The cool fragrance slowly uncurled through the room as her fingers tapped lightly upon the desk.
Xu Mama dismissed the other maids. She set another lamp alight, opened the brocade case of copied sutras, and put Jinchao’s transcriptions in careful order.
Jinchao’s gaze rested on the lines she had copied. All at once she asked, “Xu Mama, did Concubine Du always keep the Buddha in her heart?”
Xu Mama set down the brocade case and replied, “I don’t quite recall. Though Concubine Du is fond of gold and silver, she has long worn a strand of old mountain sandalwood beads on her left wrist. In earlier years she was Master’s tongfang—she came with him from his ancestral home and cannot read a character. A tongfang girl is unlikely to take up true devotion…”
Jinchao thought a moment and said, “I remember when I was five and returned to the Gu household; then, Concubine Song had not yet found favor. It seemed Concubine Du was Father’s dearest at the time. Mother even rewarded her with a nephrite pomegranate, carved from Hetian jade, to wish her many sons and much blessing.”
Xu Mama nodded. “Concubine Du was favored at first, but after Concubine Yun’s death, she seemed, little by little, to lose her taste for competing.”
In Jinchao’s heart, conviction settled a shade deeper. Concubine Song had said she held a handle on Concubine Du, and that this handle concerned Concubine Yun. If it could be used to threaten Concubine Du, it could not be anything good. Concubine Yun had been dead so long—what else could it be?
…Only Concubine Yun’s death itself.
She had wondered from the start: if Mother had not harmed Concubine Yun, and Concubine Yun had not died by accident, then the likeliest hands belonged to the concubines. Once, she had suspected Concubine Song—after all, favor came to her in the wake of Concubine Yun’s passing—but she had not thought of Concubine Du, who so loved to flatter and smooth things over.
Suddenly Jinchao recalled the first seven days of mourning for her mother, when Concubine Du kept vigil at the bier and fainted more than once. That was unlike her usual manner. Was it guilt that made her so distraught? The deed was hers, yet the blame was thrust upon my mother. She must carry that weight in her heart.
But why would Concubine Du harm Concubine Yun?
Jinchao considered, then asked, “…Did Concubine Du and Concubine Yun ever have a quarrel before?”
Xu Mama blinked. Why did Eldest Miss suddenly care so much for Concubine Du? Then she remembered what the maid had just repeated: “…Concubine Song said she held a handle on Concubine Du, something to do with Concubine Yun, and told Second Young Miss that if she ever needed help, she could go to Concubine Du.”
Could Eldest Miss be thinking…
Her heart jumped. She strained to recall. “Among the three former concubines, Concubine Du first enjoyed the greatest favor. Later, when Madam elevated Concubine Yun to the household, it would be false to say Concubine Du felt nothing sour within. Even so, she would scarcely dare anything outrageous… But since you ask, I do remember one matter.”
Jinchao looked at her, signaling her to go on.
Xu Mama said, “Though Third Young Miss is mild and aloof now, when she was small she was lively and bold. She liked to clamber about in Madam’s rooms. Once she hid in a cabinet and near suffocated. You were away from Madam’s side then, and Madam cherished Third Young Miss as she cherished you… When Concubine Yun was more than six months along, she came one day to sit with Madam. Third Young Miss was playing shuttlecock with a maid and—by accident—kicked Concubine Yun’s belly…”
“…Concubine Yun suffered sharp pains at once. Master rushed for a physician, and the child in the womb was unharmed. Even so, Master punished Third Young Miss with two days’ confinement in the side chamber. It is dark within, and Third Young Miss feared the dark most, so she wept and wept. Madam was frantic, but she dared not disobey Master to release her. When she was at last brought out, she was so frightened she’d fallen into a high fever. When she woke thereafter, she scarcely spoke at all…”
So there was such a thing!
Jinchao pondered for a long time after hearing this.
What mother does not love her own child? If it was for Gu Yi that Concubine Du would have wished harm on Concubine Yun—that much is possible.
Concubine Song knew Concubine Yun had died by Concubine Du’s hand and had even thought to wield this as a threat against her. Knowing full well the truth, she nonetheless summoned Yuping to frame my mother, and drove her to take her life by the noose. Her viciousness knows no bounds.
Jinchao longed to clear her mother’s name. Mother was gone, but she must not bear, even in death, the brand of jealousy.
For a long while, Jinchao did not speak. Yet all of this was still only conjecture. In her hand, she held not a single proof.
Jinchao’s first thought was cold and clear: Would Concubine Du ever admit it? She isn’t a fool—if she owns this deed, she won’t be able to keep her own life.
…She would need a way to make Concubine Du speak the truth with her own lips.
After a long silence, Jinchao said to Xu Mama, “Go to Yushi Residence and have them carve a pomegranate of Hetian jade—the kind with the seeds showing. About the size of a fist would be best.”
Knowing the gravity of the matter, Xu Mama went out in person to set it in motion.
All that day in Qingtong Courtyard, Jinchao busied her hands with needlework or brush. She stitched a new pillow core, made a plain lake-green silk cover for a hand warmer, and cut herself a pale-yellow skirt patterned with calyx motifs. She did not set foot once in Linyan Pavilion; with Concubine Song carrying a child, it was better to keep her distance.
After inviting Physician Xiao to attend her, Concubine Song grew markedly steadier, no longer making a scene of bellyache—perhaps for fear Jinchao would devise some further means to deal with her, or perhaps because she was waiting for Madam Song to come and lend mother and daughter her weight.
Two days later, Gu Lan indeed told Father she wished to go to Ciguang Monastery—both to mourn Ji Shi and to pray for the child in Concubine Song’s womb. This pregnancy had been unsettled; she wished to offer incense to the Bodhisattva. Gu Deshao readily consented and sent a train of maids and matrons to accompany her.
By midday a matron slipped back to report that they had not taken the road to Ciguang Monastery at all, but were following the official highway toward Daxing County.
Jinchao nodded. “Keep watch. That is all.”
When Xu Mama returned with a brocade case the color of aloeswood, word had just come from Linyan Pavilion.
She opened the case. Jinchao lifted the jade pomegranate and examined it: the stone was warm and lustrous, the carving delicate—rarely fine work. Setting it down, she said, “Caoying came to report today. The concubine has been sleeping ill of late, waking with frights in the middle of the night. Her appetite is much diminished, and she feels fatigued the whole day.” Jinchao knew the medicine was taking hold. She paused, then added, mild as ever, “See that her meals are strengthened. Add to whatever is served, and do not let her complain of any discomfort…”
Xu Mama understood perfectly and assented.
With the jade pomegranate in hand, Jinchao went to Tongruo Tower to visit Concubine Du.
Her guess was not wrong. Since Ji Shi’s death, Concubine Du had lived with a stone of guilt pressed upon her heart. Learning that Ji Shi had been wronged into taking her own life had struck her dumb with dread… She had not imagined Ji Shi would be so resolute. Even after the burial, her mind found no rest. Only by reciting scripture daily and offering incense to the Bodhisattva could she bear herself.
Worry eats the body; in a single month she had grown thin.
When the maid came to announce the Eldest Miss, Concubine Du was still at her sutras, praying Ji Shi might pass swiftly into a better rebirth—for in some measure, Ji Shi had died because of her.
She received Jinchao in the west side chamber and had a cup of tea with candied tangerine poured.
Jinchao’s glance took her in: the sandalwood beads coiled about the left wrist, half-concealed by the sleeve; the pale fingers curling of their own accord. Concubine Du wore no gold or silver, no rouge or powder, and looked the cleaner for it.
Even in age, she holds such grace—no wonder she once held favor.
Jinchao smiled and had Qingpu present the brocade case, opening it for Concubine Du to see. “A few days ago, while sorting through Mother’s private store, I found a pomegranate in Hetian jade—life-like in every seed. I brought it for you. I remember, when I was little, Mother gave you a jade pomegranate as well. Perhaps this makes a pair.”
Concubine Du’s lips curved; after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted the case and, having looked upon it, said, “It is indeed finely carved. I cannot say whether it is a pair, but it is certainly very like. How thoughtful of you, Eldest Miss. Madam showed me great kindness in those years. The pomegranate she gave me was warm and pure in the hand. I have kept it in my rooms to this day…”
Jinchao took a sip of the tangerine tea—too syrup-sweet for her taste—set it down, and went on smiling. “I remember Mother was always best to Sister Yi. When I first returned from the Ji household as a child, even I envied it. Before her death, Mother settled Sister Yi’s match with the Wuqing branch of the Gu clan and charged me to support her—said Sister Yi should help manage the inner quarters… She favored her no less than she favored me.”
Concubine Du smiled again. She was indeed deeply grateful that Ji Shi had secured Gu Yi’s betrothal into the Wuqing Gus.
Jinchao continued, “I was thinking, when Sister Yi marries, to take a few things from Mother’s dowry to add to her trunks. The several younger sisters look alike enough on the surface, but as you know, Father’s partiality lies with Sister Lan—inevitably Sister Yi and Sister Xi fall short. If I help fill Sister Yi’s chests, then when she goes to the Du household, others will be less inclined to make things hard for her. What does Auntie think?”
To have Eldest Miss add to Gu Yi’s marriage chests—those would be choice things indeed! Joy for Gu Yi rose warm in Concubine Du, yet she could not help but wonder why Eldest Miss had come to say such things. If it was to cultivate favor with her—she, a concubine long fallen from grace—why would Eldest Miss spend the effort?
She thought a moment and said, “Third Young Miss is blessed indeed, to have Eldest Miss to aid her.”
Jinchao’s smile deepened a fraction. “Truth be told, I ache for Sister Yi. Xu Mama once told me that when Sister Yi was small, Father put her under confinement; when she was released, she fell into a high fever and afterwards was never as lively as before. It seems she kicked Concubine Yun’s belly by accident, and nearly harmed the child… I wonder if Auntie remembers?”
Jinchao watched her closely. As the words fell, panic showed plain upon Concubine Du’s face; her pallor blanched still further.
“I—do not quite remember…” she managed, the smile stiff at her lips.
Jinchao drew back her gaze and asked softly, “If such a weighty matter escapes Auntie’s memory, then the matter of swapping Concubine Yun’s medicine… I suppose that, too, you remember even less.”
At that, Concubine Du started so violently she nearly sprang off her embroidered stool.