DBB – Chapter 3: Mother

Caifu picked out a crimson jacket embroidered with diamond patterns for Jinchao to change into. However, Jinchao found the color too vibrant and said,
“Mother is still ill. How can I wear something so bright? Find me something more subdued, and there’s no need for gold or silver hair ornaments. A mutton-fat jade hairpin will do.”

Caifu was puzzled. Miss had never liked plain colors; no matter the occasion, she always dressed in dazzling shades. Moreover, she barely owned any muted garments. Still, she obeyed, searching for a long time before finally finding a light purple jacket embroidered with floral branches. After dressing Jinchao, she styled her hair into a simple bun.

Jinchao’s mother’s residence was not far from Qingtong Courtyard, but the snow was heavy, making the walk lengthy. By the time they arrived, they saw Xu Mama standing by the steps of Xiexiao Courtyard, scolding a little maid. Xu Mama had been Jinchao’s mother’s wet nurse and had accompanied her from the Ji family as part of her dowry. Among the servants, she held a high status.

Seeing Jinchao arrive, Xu Mama led her inside, helped her remove her cloak, shook off the snow, and said warmly,
“Miss, weren’t you unwell? Why come out in this cold? What if you catch a chill?”

Having watched Jinchao grow up, her words carried a natural sense of affection.

Jinchao, however, glanced beyond the covered walkway into the courtyard. The winter plum blossoms were in full bloom, vibrant clusters of red standing out against the snow. The stone path leading to the house was lined with evergreen shrubs. The curtains inside her mother’s room were drawn, and at the entrance, two maids sat doing needlework.

Xu Mama turned to Caifu and scolded, “You’re not taking proper care of Miss!”

Caifu lowered her head without protest. How could she stop Miss from doing what she wanted?

Jinchao spoke instead, “I insisted on coming. How has Mother been these past few days? Are you the one attending to her?”

Xu Mama guided her forward. The two maids rose and curtsied. Jinchao vaguely recalled their names—Pinlan and Pinmei—both second-rank maids serving her mother.

Xu Mama answered, “It’s me, along with Moxue and Moyu. The other concubines visit often, but Concubine Song comes the most. Right now, Concubine Guo is tending to her, and Fourth Miss is also inside. The Madam is much the same—she sleeps most of the time and has little energy when awake. But at least her coughing has eased a little, so you needn’t worry too much.”

The room was warm, with two brazier pots burning brightly. Stepping past the screen, Jinchao saw the rosewood bed inlaid with mother-of-pearl. A soft carpet of incense-colored embroidery featuring five bats offering longevity covered the floor. Seated on a stool nearby was Concubine Guo, along with a delicate-looking girl about seven or eight years old.

At the sight of Jinchao, they both stood up. The young girl, dressed in a pale green jacket, greeted her hesitantly, “Elder Sister.”

Her large eyes bore a striking resemblance to Concubine Guo.

This was her fourth sister, Gu Xi, who had always been afraid of her. When she was five, Jinchao had bullied her and pushed her into a vase, which had frightened her so much that she barely dared to breathe in her presence. Her mother, Concubine Guo, was the most timid of all the concubines.

Gu Xi and her third sister, Gu Yi, had been raised under Jinchao’s mother’s name and lived together in Yizhu Residence.

Jinchao smiled and gently held her hand. “No need to be so formal, Fourth Sister.”

Among all the people in the household, this mother and daughter pair were the most timid, yet also the kindest. In her previous life, when she had fallen from grace, Concubine Guo had still come to visit her at the Chen residence.

Jinchao stepped further into the room and saw her mother looking at her with open eyes. Half-reclining, she was wrapped in a brocade quilt embroidered with clouds. Though illness had made her face pale and thin, she was still as graceful as ever.

Moyu, one of the maids attending her, quickly brought over a small stool.

Jinchao took her mother’s frail hand, watching her gentle expression as a thousand emotions surged within her heart.

Concubine Guo and Gu Xi took their leave.

Jinchao’s mother, seeing her daughter speechless, smiled faintly and whispered,
“My silly Jinchao, staring at me like a fool…”

Jinchao couldn’t hold back her tears. She called out, “Mother,” before burying her head in her lap.

Her mother’s hands were as soft as silk, seemingly untouched by time.

But Jinchao wept because she remembered how unfilial she had been in her past life—how she had failed to care for her mother before her passing.

Though her mother had been preoccupied with managing the household and navigating the complex relationships with the concubines, she had always been the one who loved her the most. The fact that Jinchao could see her again was already a blessing. To have returned before her death, to have one last chance to be with her—she had no regrets left.

Her mother lifted her head gently, her voice weak and soft.
“Jinchao, why were you unwell?”

Jinchao hesitated, unsure of how to answer.

She had fallen ill after learning that the seventh son of the Chen family was attending a flower banquet at the Duke’s estate. But she hadn’t heard this news herself—it had been her half-sister, Gu Lan, who had told her.

Their father had three concubines, the most distinguished among them being Concubine Song, Song Miaohua. She had been born into nobility, the legitimate daughter of a Vice Minister of Rites, and was known for her unparalleled beauty. She was also their father’s favorite. More than that, she was skilled in social maneuvering—even Jinchao had once admired her.

Concubine Song had a daughter, Gu Lan, who was intelligent and cunning. In her past life, Jinchao had been very close to her.

What she hadn’t realized then was how ambitious Concubine Song truly was.

Six months after her mother’s death, Concubine Song had given birth to a son, whom their father immediately legitimized.

Thinking back, Jinchao realized that he must have been conceived while her mother was gravely ill. Concubine Song, who had been caring for her mother day and night, had somehow found time to climb into her father’s bed—and soon after, her son became the heir.

Her mother’s death had coincided with the wedding of Chen Xuanqing. At that time, Jinchao had been too preoccupied with the marriage of her beloved to even notice the upheaval in her own household.

It was only when Chen Xuanqing’s father, Chen Yanyun, came to propose marriage that she finally paid attention to what was happening around her.

At first, Jinchao had hesitated.

But Gu Lan had convinced her. “Elder Sister, no matter whom you marry, you’ll have to leave home. If you marry into another family, you may never see him again. But if you marry into the Chen family, at least you can still be close to him. I’m thinking of what’s best for you—you must consider this carefully.”

At the time, Jinchao had been deeply moved.

She had thought she had a wonderful younger sister.

But looking back now, it was obvious—Gu Lan had long understood her nature. She had known that if Jinchao married into the Chen family, her fate would be sealed.

Jinchao had been spoiled and reckless. How could she have tolerated watching the man she loved dote on another woman, right before her eyes?

And after she left, Concubine Song had free rein over the Gu household.

For the sake of ensuring her son’s inheritance, she had deliberately neglected the education of Gu Jinrong, allowing him to indulge in wine and women.

Jinchao clenched her mother’s frail hand and whispered inwardly, This time, I won’t let things unfold the same way.

Gu Jinchao had always been willful. Watching the man she loved grow affectionate with another woman right before her eyes—how could she possibly endure such a thing?

After she married into the Chen family, the Gu household was left entirely under Concubine Song’s control. To secure her son’s inheritance, Concubine Song deliberately neglected Gu Jinrong’s upbringing, allowing him to indulge in a life of pleasure, drowning himself in wine and debauchery.

One day, Gu Jinrong and a group of young noblemen sought out performers, engaging in scandalous acts with boy courtesans. When their father found out, he flew into a rage and had Gu Jinrong flogged. From then on, Gu Jinrong lost his spirit. He failed in his studies and never once passed the imperial examinations.

Meanwhile, with her newfound status as the legitimate daughter, Gu Lan successfully married the Assistant General of the state, becoming his principal wife. She was given nearly half of the Gu family’s assets as her dowry and, after marriage, bore a legitimate eldest son.

After their father’s passing, Concubine Song accused Gu Jinrong of harboring improper desires toward one of his father’s concubines, using this as an excuse to drive him out of the house.

What happened after that, Jinchao did not know. This was merely what she had heard.

Thinking about all that Concubine Song and Gu Lan had done, Jinchao couldn’t suppress the surge of anger rising within her. More than anything, she hated herself for being so reckless and blind in her past life. Her mother’s death had not awakened her. Instead, she had led both herself and her younger brother into an abyss.

Lifting her head, she forced a faint smile.
“It was merely a cold, Mother. There’s no need to worry.”

Her mother frowned slightly.
“But Baiyun told me that you went to the Duke’s estate for the flower banquet?”

Jinchao did not want her mother to dwell on this. She was already ill and burdened with too many worries.

“I only wanted to clear my mind,” Jinchao said, her voice light. “But the weather was so cold that even the plum blossoms had yet to bloom. When I returned, I felt a slight headache. But it’s nothing serious. Now that I’ve come to pay my respects to you, there’s truly nothing to be concerned about.”

Then, turning to Moyu, she asked, “Has Mother’s medicine been prepared?”

Moyu, a delicate-looking girl with twin buns, answered,
“It’s ready. Xu Mama said she would bring it over once it cools.”

“Go bring it in first,” Jinchao instructed.

As Moyu stepped out, leaving only mother and daughter in the room, her mother finally spoke again.
“I see how close you are to Gu Lan, and I know you care for her deeply. But, my child, one must always guard against others… Concubine Song has been by my side every day, tending to me, yet I have never fully trusted her.”

At this, her mother coughed, and Jinchao immediately reached out to support her, gently rubbing her back.

Her mother held onto her hand, her eyes filled with warmth.
“I know my body well… When illness strikes, it comes swiftly and without mercy. If anything happens to me… you must take good care of your younger brother. If things become too difficult, go to your grandmother. She has always loved you most.”

Jinchao’s eyes reddened uncontrollably.

Her mother understood everything.

Yet in her past life, she had refused to listen.

Her mother smiled faintly, lifting a frail hand to wipe away Jinchao’s tears.
“My lively daughter, always so cheerful, yet today you won’t stop crying… Whenever I tried to tell you these things before, you never listened. You would always turn around and do whatever Lan’er said instead… Alright, alright, enough crying. If the maids come in and see, they’ll laugh at you.”

Jinchao realized that ever since she returned, her emotions had been more volatile than usual.

It had been so long since she last saw her mother, and thinking about everything she had done in her past life, all she could feel was regret—one foolish mistake after another.

Moyu returned with the medicine. Jinchao took the bowl, gently blowing on it to cool it down before feeding it to her mother. Afterward, she helped her eat a small plate of sesame crisps.

They talked for a while longer before her mother began to tire, slowly sinking into her pillows and drifting off to sleep.

The room was warm, with the brazier glowing steadily.

Yet when Jinchao held her mother’s hand, it was still as cold as ice.

She turned to Moyu and said, “Prepare a hand warmer for her.”

If she could stay in this life, she would ensure that both her mother and younger brother were safe.

Gazing at her mother’s fragile, pallid face, Jinchao vowed to herself—she was not going to let history repeat itself.

Jinchao stared at her mother’s pale, frail face and made a silent vow:

She would stay.

She had to.