The moment Xin An spoke, the wine in Tao Yiran’s hand trembled all the more. She forced a mask of calm over a tense face. “You worry too much, Younger Sister-in-law.”
Smiling, Xin An leaned in a little closer. “Elder Sister-in-law, I’ve been dreadfully idle of late—itching to do something yet lacking a proper pretext. If someone were to hand me a reason, even I am curious what I might do with it.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me well. I’m quick to act and not much given to weighing consequences. With Father and Mother not at my side to rein me in, who could stop me if I chose to make a scene?”
“So if some short-sighted soul insists on dancing before me to provoke my ill luck, and I should stir up a ruckus here at the Shuihua Banquet, do be sure to hold me back, Elder Sister-in-law.”
Her tone was bright and genial, any bystander would have taken the two sisters-in-law for being on excellent terms. Only Tao Yiran understood what Xin An truly meant; disbelief flashed through her eyes. She had only just discussed a plan with her mother, how had Xin An learned of it?
Madame Tao, upon hearing that Tao Yiran had been mocked after playing the qin, admitted her daughter had erred in seeking the limelight, yet was determined to salvage matters. The best course, she judged, was to make that country-bred bumpkin from Huai Jiang, Xin An, lose face even more grievously in public. If Xin An were humiliated badly enough, Tao Yiran’s misstep would no longer seem worth remarking.
Afterward they would dump the filth of the bride-swap entirely on Xin An, claim she had long carried on with Tang Mo, and the “evidence” was already prepared: Xin An frequently went out with Tang Mo after the wedding.
Tang Mo, of course, coveted the Xin family’s vast fortune.
Xin An, for her part, supposedly valued the Marquis’s Residence because Wang Shi held the household reins. The two had surely been exchanging secret affections for some time. After all, what girl whose bridal match had been switched would still be pleased to go jaunting about town?
Plainly, it had all been premeditated.
As for Tao Yiran, why, she would be the magnanimous one who endured in silence for the good name of the Marquis’s Residence.
If this stratagem succeeded, Wang Shi, Tang Mo, and Xin An would all be thrust to the very tip of the storm.
Tao Yiran, suddenly lacking confidence, set her cup down. “You jest, Younger Sister.”
Xin An raised her own cup and lightly tapped it to Tao Yiran’s. “You know best whether I’m jesting. I am not one to swallow a loss. And even if I must, someone will have to pay alongside me. I wonder, how many lives does that someone have to spare?”
A maid from the Residence of the Duke of En approached with hot dishes. Xin An straightened, turned to murmur a few words to Lin Yao on her other side, and then sat appreciating the song and dance in the hall.
Tao Yiran’s heart pounded. She forced herself to be calm. A few casual lines from Xin An had badly shaken the original plan. In her eyes, Xin An was a mud-foot peasant—a barefoot woman who fears no one wearing shoes. If truly pushed, she might well lash out without restraint.
Neither the Marquis’s Residence nor the Tao household could afford to incur the wrath of the Duke of En.
Madame Tao sat toward the rear, her gaze fixed on the pair. Seeing them still smiling and speaking, she grew doubtful. When Tao Yiran made no move for so long, anxiety pricked at her. A proper humiliation must happen before an audience, the more people, and the higher their station, the better. Miss today, and it would be hard to disgrace Xin An so thoroughly again.
Alas, however fidgety she became, Tao Yiran did nothing, perhaps frightened by Xin An’s words.
When the banquet dispersed and guests shifted about, the Hall of a Thousand Guests transformed into a little theater. People sat in twos and threes, laughing as they took their places, praising the Duke of En’s wealth and the thoughtful arrangements. With so many guests, everything was still ordered and comfortable.
“How is it? Any trouble?”
Wang Shi drew Xin An down beside her. From the moment she had entered the Duke’s residence, she had not paused, there were too many ladies to greet, and she had little time to look after Xin An.
“Everything is well. A small nuisance, but I believe it’s already settled.”
Xin An smiled. Satisfied, Wang Shi nodded and, while the play had yet to begin, introduced Xin An to the ladies seated before and behind them. Polished in their courtesies, the ladies offered the expected compliments. Seeing Xin An neither servile nor arrogant, neither overexcited nor overawed, several nodded to themselves in quiet approval.
Not far away, Madame Tao tugged Tao Yiran to a seat. “What happened?”
Tao Yiran shook her head and lowered her voice. “It seems she has found us out.”
“How could that be?”
Madame Tao was taken aback. They hadn’t plotted this long in advance; the idea had arisen only after her daughter suffered that slight. There had been no one nearby at the time. “Wait…”
“Your maid?”
Tao Yiran thought, then shook her head again. Her maids had been with her since childhood and were utterly reliable; they would never betray her. “She saw us speaking. Perhaps she worked it out on her own.”
With so many people about, the two could not continue whispering and had to let the matter rest for the moment.
Madame Tao’s heart ached with regret. If the stain of the bride-swap was not washed away soon, people would gossip wherever Tao Yiran went. Even the position of Heir’s Wife would feel ill-gotten. She would not be able to stand tall, not in the capital, not even within the Marquis’s Residence.
Her gaze drifted to Xin An, who was exchanging pleasantries with others, and she sighed. A merchant’s daughter from the provinces, and yet, where had she found such cunning?
The feast was excellent, the performance finer still, and the atmosphere cool and pleasant. None were in a hurry to leave. Many households lacked ice; in such heat, a gathering like today’s was a rare indulgence, and guests lingered to savor it.
By mid-afternoon, the gate of the Duke of En’s residence grew lively again as officials released early from their posts began to arrive. Handsome, well-bred young gentlemen also appeared at the Shuihua Banquet. They did not go directly to view the lotus but instead made for another great hall the Duke’s household had prepared. There, too, ice basins had been set out; stepping inside felt like entering spring. Clusters of guests chatted merrily.
Tang Rong arrived with colleagues from the Ministry of Rites. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than someone teased him. “Your blessings run deep, Heir Tang.”
Thinking the man was poking fun at his wedding-night mix-up, Tang Rong smiled and cupped his hands. “Do spare me, Brother Wen. I shall host a feast another day to make amends.”
“Heir Tang, he wasn’t teasing you about that.”
Another stepped forward with a laugh. “The Heir’s Lady plays the qin with surpassing grace. We thought such music belonged to the past, once the beauty wed another, we expected never to hear it again. Who would have thought we’d be treated to it anew?”
“Our Heir is like the bright moon, broad of heart and generous. Today we all bask in his light.”
Laughter rippled through the group. These men had attended the banquet since morning; they had seen with their own eyes Tao Yiran’s performance. As one of the capital’s most outstanding young lords, Tang Rong usually monopolized the gaze of many maidens at any gathering. Resentment had long simmered in some hearts; seizing the chance to make sport of him today, they held nothing back.
Tang Rong stood at sea until a close acquaintance quietly explained. His fists clenched at once. He wanted to argue, yet where could he begin? What man could stomach others making sport of his wife?
Worse, their tone dripped with contempt, as if Tao Yiran were some music-house courtesan selling her art. Husband and wife are one body—Tang Rong felt mortally insulted.