DBB – Chapter 7: Qingpu

Jinchao simply wanted to gain a clear understanding of what she truly owned. If she had known better in her past life, she would have been more mindful of these matters. Back then, she had carelessly entrusted her mother’s dowry to the household stewards, allowing them full control. As a result, the shops suffered severe losses, the farmland yielded less with each passing year, and when she married into the Chen family and began managing the household finances, she realized that her personal wealth had been steadily dwindling. Meanwhile, the stewards she had trusted had grown fat and rich.

Seeing the unease in Tong Mama’s expression only confirmed what Jinchao already suspected—she had never truly exercised control over her own estate.

Years spent in the small courtyard had taught her many lessons. Servants had their struggles too, but when she had fallen lower than even them, no one had been able to understand her suffering. Jinchao stood up and gently helped Tong Mama to her feet, smiling warmly.

“Tong Mama, you speak too gravely. I only asked in passing. Since the records haven’t been updated in a long time, let’s open the storeroom and take inventory. Once it’s sorted, bring me the list.”

Hearing this, Tong Mama couldn’t hide a flicker of delight. If the young lady wanted the inventory taken, did that mean she was reinstating her position? Still, she hesitated.

“But what about my duties at Yizhu Pavilion…?”

“You are my stewardess. The affairs at Yizhu Pavilion will be handled by someone else.”

Hearing this, Tong Mama immediately knelt, bowing repeatedly in gratitude. The young lady had never been so approachable before.

At noon, Liuxiang returned, leading Qingpu behind her.

Qingpu wore a plain maid’s bun, with no jewelry adorning her hair. Her outfit was a simple, worn-out blue jacket paired with a brown skirt. She had grown much taller than before, now standing two inches taller than Liuxiang, yet she was thin to the point that her cheeks had hollowed out.

Seeing her without accessories, Liuxiang removed her own gold-plated bracelet and handed it to her.

“You look so shabby,” Liuxiang said, laughing lightly. “People might think our young lady isn’t being taken care of properly!”

Qingpu blushed and hesitated before finally accepting it.

Liuxiang couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion. When she had first arrived at Qingtong Courtyard, Qingpu had been the senior maid, but now their roles had reversed.

Liuxiang instructed Qingpu to go to Chang Granny for room assignments, but just as she was heading to the servants’ quarters, she spotted Yutong carrying a Cloisonné Vase with Fish and Algae Motif.

Yutong curtsied upon seeing Liuxiang.

“Liuxiang, you’ve returned.”

Liuxiang glanced at her and then at the vase in her arms. “Where are you taking that?”

With a bright smile, Yutong replied, “Miss ordered Caifu to prepare a room for the newly arrived Qingpu. She even instructed us to use engraved silver ladles for the bed curtains and selected this vase for decoration. Since Tong Mama is taking inventory of the storeroom, Caifu thought this one looked light and elegant. She also arranged several pots of begonias and daffodils—it’s all beautifully set up.”

Hearing this, Liuxiang’s face darkened.

Her thoughts became chaotic, but she quickly noticed Yutong staring at her, waiting for a response. She composed herself and asked, “Tong Mama has returned?”

“Yes,” Yutong nodded. “She came back from Yizhu Pavilion, and she’s overjoyed. Now that Miss has assigned her to manage the inventory, she’s working with great enthusiasm.”

Liuxiang’s expression grew even grimmer. She dismissed Yutong and walked away, deep in thought.

The servant quarters had a clear hierarchy—senior maids had their own rooms, while second- and third-tier maids shared quarters. Yet Qingpu, who had just returned, was immediately given her own space. On top of that, Miss had specifically ordered Caifu to arrange it with care, down to the smallest details. That alone was unusual.

But what was truly alarming was Tong Mama’s return as the stewardess.

With Tong Mama at Yizhu Pavilion, Liuxiang had been the one managing the household affairs in Qingtong Courtyard. Now that Tong Mama was back in her role, where did that leave her?

For the first time, Liuxiang felt an overwhelming sense of unease.

That afternoon, Jinchao accompanied her mother once again.

By dusk, she returned to her courtyard, had a light dinner prepared by the small kitchen, and retired early for the night.

But sleep did not come easily.

A heavy snowfall had blanketed the night, and she lay awake, listening to the sound of branches snapping under the weight of snow and the wind howling through the courtyard. She tossed and turned, feeling restless and warm under the heavy blankets, a thin layer of sweat forming on her skin. Staring at the carved ceiling, she felt the weight of all the things she needed to do.

So much had to be handled, yet she had to take her time. Rushing would accomplish nothing.

In the second half of the night, she finally drifted into a fitful sleep—only to dream of a long-ago winter.

She was standing alone in a covered corridor, watching the snow fall.

In the courtyard, Chen Xuanqing was with Yu Wanxue, plucking plum blossoms from the branches.

The delicate, translucent yellow petals of the wintersweet flowers gleamed like jade in the snowy light.

Yu Wanxue, though a noble lady, had lifted her skirt to climb up and reach the blossoms. Chen Xuanqing stood below, watching her cautiously.

“Xuanqing, do you think this one looks good?” she asked, her voice bright and childlike.

A woman who was usually so composed and elegant was now beaming with youthful excitement, her face full of hopeful anticipation.

Chen Xuanqing smiled helplessly. “They all look good, they all look good. Now come down, or the passing maids will spread rumors.”

Yu Wanxue giggled. “Since you think they’re all beautiful, I’ll pluck them all for you! We can place them in your study—the fragrance is the most elegant there.”

Then, having gathered a handful of blossoms, she climbed down.

Chen Xuanqing took her hand to warm it.

“Your hands are freezing,” he murmured, gently rubbing her fingers, though he still carefully held onto the flowers she had picked.

With one hand, he carried the delicate branches, while the other hand firmly clasped hers as they walked away together.

Her skirt was a soft crimson red, and through the hazy snowfall, the sight of it stung Jinchao’s eyes.

That night, her dreams were heavy, and her sleep was restless.

At that moment, Jinchao suddenly heard a loud clang—the distinct sound of a copper basin hitting the ground. Her brows furrowed slightly. Which maid was so careless, making such a commotion early in the morning?

Moments later, Liuxiang and Caifu entered the room, both kneeling before her bed. Caifu kept her head lowered, silent and unmoving, while Liuxiang immediately bowed her head and spoke.

“Miss, we deeply apologize for disturbing you. I asked Sister Caifu to hold the copper basin, but she slipped and failed to catch it. Please do not blame her for such a small mistake.”

Slipped?

Jinchao’s gaze flicked between them. Caifu remained kneeling, her head bowed, her hands tucked against her sleeves. She said nothing, but Jinchao noticed the slight tremble in her shoulders.

Something felt off. Caifu was always meticulous and steady—how could she suddenly be so clumsy?

“Is that true?” Jinchao asked.

Caifu’s nose stung, her throat tight with grievance. The boiling water from the basin had scalded her hands, leaving several painful blisters, but Liuxiang’s words twisted the blame onto her. This wasn’t an apology—it was an effortless way to shift responsibility.

Jinchao had always disliked servants making excuses, and she knew that arguing would only make things worse. Even if she wanted to explain, the spilled water on the ground had already cooled, leaving her no proof.

She knelt lower and bowed her head. “This servant admits her mistake. I accept any punishment Miss sees fit.”

Jinchao narrowed her eyes.

There was something unnatural about her voice, as if she were suppressing pain.

“Lift your head and let me see you.”

At first, Caifu didn’t move, her silent tears falling onto the wooden floor. When she finally raised her head, Jinchao caught sight of her hands—red, swollen, and blistered.

A cold anger flashed through Jinchao’s heart.

She remained calm, her expression unreadable, and spoke lightly. “Forget it. It was just a small accident. Since you didn’t mean to spill the water, there’s no need for punishment. Go and clean up the mess.”

Caifu’s pale face showed shock.

Miss… wasn’t going to punish her?

She had braced herself for a severe reprimand—perhaps even kneeling outside in the snow for hours. But instead, Miss dismissed the matter with ease.

Her emotions tangled—relief mixed with guilt. She had disappointed Miss, but Miss had chosen to spare her.

Holding back her tears, she bowed deeply. “Thank you, Miss.”

She quickly left to clean the spilled water.

Jinchao turned back to Liuxiang, whose shoulders had visibly relaxed once Caifu left the room.

Interesting. So she was worried Caifu might say something?

Liuxiang adjusted her tone, returning to her usual pleasant demeanor. “Miss, Qingpu arrived last night. I took her to the outer courtyard and got her two new sets of clothes. It took some time to settle her in, so I didn’t have the chance to inform you sooner.”

Jinchao nodded, seemingly uninterested in the details. “Tong Mama has returned to her post as stewardess. Since you’re more familiar with the storeroom inventory, assist her in organizing it. The affairs of Qingtong Courtyard must be well-managed.”

Liuxiang froze for a brief moment, but quickly bowed her head in obedience.

“Yes, Miss.”

Jinchao watched her carefully but said nothing further.

“Now, go and bring Qingpu to me,” she finally ordered.