Seeing the flush on Xin An’s cheeks, the Old Madam burst into laughter. She knew well that the young couple had originally kept separate rooms, only to eventually end up sleeping under the same roof—clear proof that their relationship was advancing swiftly. And yet, these two still acted bashful, each convinced the other was pleasant to behold. With such beauty before them, one behaved like a monk, the other like a nun. Even she, an old woman, found it baffling.
After sharing a meal with the Old Madam, the sun had risen high. Concerned with maintaining her complexion, the Old Madam no longer ventured outdoors. The two sat chatting within the room. Though her face had darkened slightly under the sun, the Old Madam still expressed fondness for life at the manor, musing over it before asking Xin An how preparations were going for the upcoming banquet at the Residence of Duke En.
Xin An didn’t hide anything and laid out all she had arranged thus far. Upon hearing that she had already made the acquaintance of two noble ladies—and that Tang Mo had arranged a gathering that evening to help her meet others—the Old Madam was both pleased and complimentary. She even spoke highly of Tang Mo, praising his consideration and attentiveness.
“There are few young men in the capital as thoughtful as he is,” she said.
Even she was surprised by this side of Tang Mo. With such qualities, what elder wouldn’t be fond of a grandson like him?
“When the time comes, stay close to me. I’ll take you around to meet everyone first. Your grandfather’s prestige still lingers. They won’t dare deny me face,” she added with pride.
Her tone was laced with smug satisfaction, though her eyes betrayed a trace of sorrow. If only her husband were still alive—how wonderful that would be.
Xin An caught the shadow in her gaze and seized the moment to ask about the late Marquis. “I did meet Grandfather once, but I was very young at the time. His face has grown hazy in my memory.”
Elderly people always enjoyed reminiscing. The Old Madam’s eyes lit up as she launched into tales of the past, beginning with her own girlhood. Though decades had passed, she recounted the events as if they had happened yesterday. Xin An listened quietly, offering the occasional response. The Old Madam spoke proudly of her family estate—how many houses they had, how many hundreds of laborers, and how many thousands of acres of farmland. She told how dearly her parents had doted on her, and how she had first met her husband.
Time slipped by unnoticed. As the blazing sunlight crept into the courtyard of Spring Glory Hall, warmth filled the room. Ganlu arrived with two round fans, handing one to Xin An and fanning the Old Madam with the other.
The Old Madam withdrew from her memories. “I never saw your grandfather on the battlefield, but generals who win every campaign must be majestic indeed—sword in hand, astride a steed, living by the blade, fearless and bold.”
“Your grandfather was a very good man.”
Xin An paused her fan and smiled. “I vaguely remember what he looked like. Even back then, I thought he was incredibly imposing. How should I put it?”
“I didn’t dare get close.”
That aura of lethal command was intimidating indeed.
The Old Madam chuckled. “Exactly. Most children were afraid of him. We used to joke that he could stop a baby’s cries with just one look.”
Speaking of the past seemed to bring youth back into her eyes. Xin An, moved by the warmth of the moment, said, “My mother once told me that a wife is a mirror to her husband. A man’s character can be seen in his wife’s face. Grandmother, your expression is always kind and warm, your gaze gentle, and your skin glows with a healthy luster. When you smile, it feels as though you are wrapped in blessings. Only those with great fortune can look as you do—it’s clear that Grandfather treated you well and gave you no cause for worry.”
The Old Madam laughed. “Is there really such a saying?”
“Absolutely.”
Xin An answered with full sincerity. “My mother once pointed people out to me. Those who lived well wore contented expressions; those who lived poorly often developed a harsh, bitter look. It was quite accurate.”
The Old Madam’s smile widened, and she turned to Ganlu. “Listen to that tongue—always ready to flatter this old woman into a good mood.”
Still fanning, Ganlu laughed. “Second Young Madam speaks the truth. You truly are blessed.”
The Old Madam beamed with delight. “I don’t ask for much. I only hope that all my blessings can be passed down to my children and grandchildren. May the whole family live in harmony, and may all be well.”
“Of course they will,” Xin An replied, nodding as Ganlu echoed her words with a gentle wave of the fan.
With the topic of the late Marquis now opened, Xin An smoothly shifted the conversation toward the retired veterans. “Though my parents only had me and my younger brother, and we were blessed with a modest fortune, they never spoiled us. One could say my brother and I grew up amidst the Huai Jiang Merchant Guild. My father never coddled me for being a girl—if he thought I was capable, he’d let me try. So I’m not the sort of sheltered young lady who’s never stepped beyond the inner courtyard.”
“These past days in the Marquis’s Residence have taken some adjustment. I find myself missing home from time to time. Fortunately, my husband is generous and often takes me out, amuses me with little diversions, and keeps me from growing listless within the courtyard. I’m well aware of how kind he’s been to me… so I hoped I might repay him in some way.”
If she was to become Tang Mo’s true support, then she had to be involved in the effort to aid and reassure those veterans. But she would need to find a suitable excuse for such involvement—one that could earn the Old Madam’s approval. After all, as a woman of the inner residence, she couldn’t leave the estate freely without Tang Mo’s company.
The Old Madam, who still missed the late Marquis deeply, remembered well the concerns he had voiced on his deathbed. Beyond the affairs of the household, his only lingering regret was for the band of comrades who had once charged into battle at his side. He had worried that once he drew his last breath, those men would lose their final protector and face difficult days ahead.
Now that Xin An had brought them up, the Old Madam felt instantly compelled. Partly to keep the girl occupied—so she wouldn’t dwell on homesickness—and partly because this was indeed a fine opportunity for the couple to deepen their bond.
“Husband and wife are of one heart,” she said with sincere approval. “I’m glad to see you think this way.”
With the Old Madam’s approval, Xin An finally breathed a sigh of relief. After staying to share lunch with her, she went to Wang Shi’s quarters to retrieve the old records and rosters of veterans aided in past years. With little else pressing, she began poring over the ledgers, wanting to gain a solid understanding of the task ahead.
On her way back to Autumn Harvest Courtyard, she ran into Madame Tao.
So Madame Tao is here again? This must be what—her third visit this month?
“Madame Tao, are you here to see my sister-in-law?”
Madame Tao forced a smile. “Yi’er’s been unwell, and I couldn’t rest easy at home. Did you just return from visiting your mother-in-law?”
“I had some time on my hands, so I went to sit with her for a while.”
The two walked side by side. Madame Tao, pretending at casual conversation, remarked, “I hear you never miss your daily greetings—morning and evening. Such devotion is rare among daughters-in-law.”
“I’m simply fulfilling my duty,” Xin An replied with a polite smile. “But it is my sister-in-law who deserves praise. Despite her condition, she still performs a respectful greeting toward Mother each day from her own courtyard. Her body may not be present, but her sincerity never falters. That’s something I must learn from.”
A daily bow from afar?
Madame Tao’s smile stiffened slightly, and she gave a soft sigh. “Yi’er’s health is frail. If only she were as robust as you, I’d have far less to worry about. Thankfully, your mother-in-law is generous and tolerant—it is a true blessing.”
Xin An returned a faint smile but offered no reply. She had no fondness for Madame Tao. In her previous life, the moment Tang Mo passed, this woman had rushed to cling to Tang Rong in tears, begging him to take care of Tao Yiran. Whatever issues arose, she went directly to Tang Rong, often intercepting Xin An halfway. There had been no sense of shame in either mother or daughter.
They had walked several paces more when Madame Tao abruptly asked, “By the way, I’ve long been curious—how have things been between you and the Second Young Master?”