Song Yiniang brought her hands together loosely, then slipped them into her sleeves as she walked over with a smile.
Jinchao stood and offered a polite bow. “But of course. Not just me—Sister Xi and Sister Yi have also prepared birthday gifts. You must take a good look.”
As they spoke, Shuiying came in to announce, “Master, Second Young Miss has arrived.”
Gu Lan entered, followed by young attendants carrying a screen draped in grey cloth, concealing its contents.
With a gentle smile, she greeted each person in turn and said to Jinchao, “Elder Sister and the others are all so early today. I must have been the only one indulging in sleep.”
Jinchao merely smiled without replying. Gu Yi and Gu Xi, seeing her silent, also kept quiet after offering their greetings.
Gu Deshao took a seat and said, “Chao’er brought a birthday gift. I do want to see it.” He gave no response to Gu Lan’s greeting.
Gu Jinchao motioned for Qingpu to hand her the scroll. She unrolled it and presented it to her father. It was a painting chosen by Cao Ziheng—Cold Mountain Ancient Pines by Master Cao Youxuan. Gu Deshao examined it with visible delight.
“…Cao Youxuan’s pine landscapes are lofty and serene. His later works, in particular, are imbued with a sense of rugged elegance and refined restraint.”
Cao Youxuan was known alongside Ni Zan of Wuxi and Gu Ying of Kunshan as one of the three most renowned scholars of Jiangnan. Though born into great wealth and having served in government, he lived by Daoist ideals, eschewing noise and fame. His affinity for Neo-Confucian learning and quiet cultivation mirrored Gu Deshao’s own tastes, making his works especially appealing.
Jinchao knew her father was trying to win her favor. She merely smiled. Truth be told, it was Cao Ziheng who had selected the painting to suit her father’s taste. If one were to compare sincerity, she was likely the most inattentive of the sisters.
Then came Gu Lan’s turn. She lifted the grey cloth to reveal a screen embroidered with verses. A brief glance was enough for Jinchao to recognize the opening lines—it was the first twenty passages of the Dao De Jing. Gu Yi noticed too and couldn’t help but feel a flicker of relief. Thankfully, her eldest sister had suggested she prepare the Peng Bird Rhapsody instead. Had she copied the Dao De Jing, how could her hand-copied script ever compare to Gu Lan’s painstaking embroidery?
Gu Deshao, upon seeing the screen, was visibly moved. Regardless of craftsmanship, the intention behind it was commendable. Choosing the Dao De Jing showed deliberate thought toward his preferences.
“You stitched this with great care—well done,” he said, nodding at Gu Lan with a smile.
Gu Lan subtly let out a breath and winked discreetly at Song Yiniang.
Since Gu Yi had recently gotten engaged, Gu Deshao had been spending more time with her. Now he turned to her with a smile. “And what has Yi’er prepared for your father?”
Gu Yi spoke softly, “I could never compare to Eldest and Second Sister. I’ve only copied a rhapsody for Father.”
She unrolled the hanging scroll—her small seal script was clear, elegant, and full of classical charm. “It is the Peng Bird Rhapsody. I’ve always loved it.”
Gu Deshao was visibly delighted and praised her again and again. “You and I share a fondness, it seems. I’ve always admired this piece. Your seal script is well done too. I recall your official script was always middling—this must have taken real effort.”
The Peng Bird Rhapsody was his favorite. Though embroidered scripture seemed more intricate, Gu Yi had always struggled with calligraphy. The fact that she had honed her seal script for this gift showed her dedication. And while the Dao De Jing was a Daoist classic, turning it into embroidery did seem to diminish its sanctity. He refrained from comment only because it was his own daughter’s work. But Gu Yi’s rendition, precise and dignified, was something he could proudly hang in his study.
It was evident from his expression how pleased he was. Gu Lan, watching her father lavish praise on Gu Yi’s calligraphy, felt a twinge of unease.
Wasn’t it I who had poured the most thought into my gift? Why, then, did Gu Yi receive the greater praise…?
Gu Deshao accepted Gu Xi’s gift next and offered a few words of praise before rising with his attendants to entertain guests in the outer courtyard.
Song Yiniang, however, could see it clearly—Gu Lan had not truly succeeded in pleasing Gu Deshao or reconciling with him. If anything, she had stirred up a faint sense of distaste. Song Yiniang’s heart burned with indignation.
She glanced at Gu Yi’s scroll. The Peng Bird Rhapsody? Gu Yi had barely studied for a few years with her childhood tutor—did she even understand the text? Had someone not advised her, would she have thought of it at all?
Her gaze shifted to Gu Jinchao, who was leisurely sipping tea. At that moment, Jinchao looked up and met her eyes. With a gentle smile, she said, “Yiniang, you look as though you might eat me alive. I’m quite afraid.”
Gu Lan caught on and let her smile fade. She turned to Gu Yi and said, “Third Sister’s rhapsody—was it chosen by Eldest Sister? I must say, I like it very much.”
Setting her teacup down, Jinchao pressed Gu Yi’s hand and replied calmly to Gu Lan, “Turning the Dao De Jing into embroidery somewhat defiles its sacredness. Of course you’d prefer Yi’er’s written one.”
It was a quiet but unmistakable gesture of defense.
Gu Yi’s heart stirred, and before she realized it, she had reached out to hold Jinchao’s hand in return.
“Second Madam is visiting my mother. I shall excuse myself now,” Jinchao said, rising with Gu Yi and Gu Xi to leave Juyliu Pavilion.
It was their father’s birthday. Fifth Master Gu had come from the ancestral home to join the banquet, and Second Madam was visiting Madam Ji.
When Jinchao arrived at Xiexiao Courtyard, Second Madam was indeed conversing with her mother. Upon seeing them, Madam Ji quickly beckoned them to greet their aunt.
Second Madam received their courtesies with a smile and handed each of them a sandalwood box. “You girls came to pay respects to Old Madam last time, but I had no opportunity to present a meeting gift. Consider these belated offerings.”
Jinchao accepted hers with thanks. Gu Yi and Gu Xi also expressed their gratitude.
Second Madam then pulled Gu Yi closer. “I hear you’re engaged to the sixth young master of the Du family in Wuqing. He’s handsome and learned—he’ll surely have a bright future…”
Ji Shi also smiled. “I think it’s a good match. Yi’er is now engaged, but our Lan’er… who knows when her turn will come?” She took Jinchao’s hand with a faintly melancholic smile.
Jinchao gently clasped her mother’s hand in return. Without the purging effects of rhubarb, her coughing had lessened, though her health had yet to truly improve.
“Chao’er is as lovely as a flower,” Second Madam consoled her. “Surely there’s no need to worry. I’ve been keeping an eye out for a good match for her.”
Jinchao smiled and said, “I’d much rather stay by my mother’s side and never marry.”
But at the mention of marriage, an image surfaced in her mind—Chen Xuanqing’s cold, distant face.
Ji Shi sighed softly, “Still speaking like a child…”
Meanwhile, Song Yiniang returned grim-faced to Linyan Pavilion. Qiao Wei was already waiting beneath the eaves. Upon seeing her, she stepped forward and bowed.
“Yiniang… she’s been found.”
Song Yiniang’s head jerked up in disbelief. They really found her?!
She had only sent Qiao Wei out to try their luck—who knew whether the girl had died, married off elsewhere, or changed her name entirely? But to think they had found her…
She took a deep breath to steady her emotions and said, “Bring her in.”
Once inside the inner chamber, Qiao Wei shut the door behind them and began to recount how she had found Yuping.
“There are only three ‘Li’s Roasted Chestnuts’ shops in all of Shuntian Prefecture. I inquired carefully—each is an old establishment, open for over a decade. I followed the trail, and near one of them, I found her. Most maids are given names by their mistresses, but when they return to their hometowns, they usually go by their original names. But this one was different. Yuping’s parents died young, and after she returned home, her elder brother sold her again—this time to an old widower as his wife. She kept the name Yuping even then.”
“That widower was once a foot peddler selling laozao rice wine. He roamed from street to street, known to everyone. Later, he became acquainted with the son of the local county registrar, and his fortunes changed. He bought Yuping as a wife. After she bore him a daughter, he purchased a fourteen-year-old maid as a concubine. He had a violent temper and would often beat and berate both women. That’s why everyone in the area knows of Yuping—just a little asking around was enough to find her. When I arrived, she had just been beaten again over a minor matter. I offered him twenty taels of silver, and only then did he agree to let her come back with me.”
Song Yiniang nodded repeatedly as she listened. “You’ve done well… Where is she now?”
Qiao Wei smiled. “I sent her to wash up. Yuxiang is bringing her to see you—it should be any moment now.”
Sure enough, Yuxiang soon arrived with Yuping in tow.
She was not yet thirty, but looked closer to forty, aged beyond her years. Upon seeing Song Yiniang, she quickly knelt and performed a deep bow, stammering her words of gratitude, her speech bordering on incoherent.
Setting her teacup aside, Song Yiniang rose and examined her closely. Her face did seem familiar, though she could no longer clearly recall Yuping’s features. She asked, “Back then you served Aunt Yun. Do you remember what she liked to eat?”
Yuping hastily nodded and, wiping her tears, said, “I still remember… Aunt Yun loved osmanthus sugar crisps and milk and poria jelly.”
Hearing that, Song Miaohua’s heart was finally at ease. This truly was the maid who had once served Yun Yiniang.
She continued, “Qiao Wei should have explained everything to you. Are you willing to come forward and testify against Madam Ji?”
But Yuping hesitated.
Song Yiniang’s brow furrowed.
Seeing this, Qiao Wei interjected, “Didn’t we discuss this clearly on the way? If you testify against the Madam, we’ll help you obtain a divorce letter from your husband, and you can return to your mother’s home with your daughter. You won’t have to suffer under him any longer.”
Yuping brushed aside some loose strands of hair and asked in a low voice, “Will he… will he really agree? He’s connected to the county registrar’s son…”
Qiao Wei smiled. “You’re standing in the residence of Gu Langzhong, of the Gu family. Your husband merely knows the son of a minor county official—how could he dare defy us? When the time comes, we’ll even give you a few dozen taels of silver to purchase some land in your hometown. You’ll be able to live comfortably enough.”
Still in a low voice, Yuping added, “Truthfully… back then, it was only a suspicion. After all, it wasn’t just Madam Ji who could have sneaked in—others could’ve done it too. When I spoke to Granny Zhang, I only mentioned it as speculation. Who would’ve thought she’d repeat it as though it were fact—that it was Madam Ji who harmed the concubine…”
Song Miaohua sat back down, smiling faintly. “Now that’s not the way to look at it. Think about it this way: you were once Yun Yiniang’s maid. Shouldn’t you help clear her name? Otherwise, she and the child she carried died in vain. When you dream at night, haven’t you ever seen Yun Yiniang holding her child, coming to find you?”
Yuping shuddered.
Song Miaohua said no more. She simply raised her teacup and resumed sipping quietly.
She’ll come around eventually.