Chapter 13: Acuo

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On the first day of the Flower Message Banquet, Qinglan was actually the last to arrive home. After sending off Han Yueqi, she was summoned by Lord Ye for some questioning. By the time she returned to her own courtyard, Lingbo had already settled Acuo and Yanyan, who were playing around the incense burner. The kitchen brought up a late-night snack—bird’s nest porridge stewed until soft, infused with many warming and nourishing herbs. After everyone ate, Lingbo worked on something else alone. While eating the porridge, two attendants stood by her side; one, a young maid named Xiao Liu’er, recited the account books, while Lady Yang responded as needed.

Yanyan noticed Acuo’s curiosity and explained, “It’s nothing; she always does this on the first, third, and fifth days—checking the accounts before bed. These are the right and left guardians. On the first and fifteenth days, it’s even more intense—they summon the Four Heavenly Kings.”

Although Lingbo kept her eyes lowered, appearing focused on her porridge, she missed nothing. Hearing Yanyan’s teasing, she immediately shot her a sharp glare. Yanyan, thick-skinned, just grinned and scampered away.

In truth, Lingbo’s nightly routine extended beyond accounting; she also reviewed intelligence. After Xiao Liu’er whispered a few words in her ear, she first questioned Qinglan, “What did they want with you over at that courtyard?”

Qinglan replied, “Concubine Pan wants to organize a Flower Message Banquet but lacks connections and can’t secure a spot. Father asked me to assist her.”

“She must be out of her mind. Even if you refused to help, or foolishly agreed, as a maid turned official concubine—who rose by supplanting other consorts—there’s no way she can infiltrate the madam’s circle. And now she wants to host a Flower Message Banquet? That’s just dreaming,” Lingbo immediately pressed, “You didn’t agree, did you?”

“I told them I’m too inexperienced to help and suggested they find someone more capable,” Qinglan said.

Though she seemed gentle and upright, Qinglan was a subtle needle wrapped in silk—not a blind do-gooder, especially when dealing with this couple responsible for her mother’s early death.

Still, Lingbo wasn’t satisfied.

“He even had the nerve to ask? I’d have called him out straight away. If it were me, I’d ask him how, when my mother was alive, the Rose Banquets were held splendidly every year without Lord Ye’s interference—now with the ‘new Mrs. Ye,’ they can’t even secure banquet slots? Where did all those palace intrigues of his favored concubines go?” Lingbo’s mind raced; her eyes narrowed into a smile.

“If you ask me, if she really manages to steal a banquet spot, it’ll be a disgrace. She can’t even run her own household properly—the entire courtyard is corrupt from top to bottom; they couldn’t even make decent mooncakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival, yet they want to hold a Flower Message Banquet... Maybe only a crushing embarrassment will teach them a lesson.” Lingbo’s eyes gleamed with mischief.

Qinglan smiled resignedly.

“Stop always thinking about taking crooked paths. We just need to live our own lives well and not meddle in their affairs,” she earnestly advised Lingbo.

Though Lingbo appeared decisive, she deeply respected Qinglan, waiting for her to return before handling major family matters.

Even her questioning was deferential. Seeing Qinglan dismiss her “crooked idea,” she didn’t persist but instead turned to ask about Acuo.

“Acuo, come here.” She beckoned, and when Acuo approached, Lingbo pulled her onto her lap and asked seriously, “I heard from the sedan chair bearers that Wei Yushan got into a conflict with you all tonight—is that true?”

Acuo hesitated, but Yanyan boldly admitted, “Yes, I threw a snowball at him!”

Acuo, fearing scolding, quickly added, “I told her to do it.”

Seeing their mutual protection, Lingbo laughed.

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“All right, throwing the snowball was justified, but it shouldn’t have escalated so much—even lifting the sedan curtain. That little brat might be rude, but he could ruin your reputation.”

Acuo obediently nodded, while Yanyan, still unsatisfied, said, “Just wait—I’ll tell Brother Jingyu and beat him up again.”

Mentioning Cui Jingyu, Acuo glanced at Qinglan to gauge her reaction, and Lingbo did the same. Seeing her eldest sister’s calm demeanor, as placid as a deep well, Lingbo said, “Don’t count on Brother Jingyu. He pretends not to know our family—it’s infuriating. Let him be; when Lu Wenyin and her sisters give him a hard time, he’ll learn his lesson.”

With that, Acuo had no more questions. After warming themselves by the fire for a while, everyone washed up and went to bed.

The Flower Message Banquet lasted five days, but only three were rest days, so balancing work and rest was crucial. On the second day of the Plum Blossom Banquet, everyone slept in until mid-morning except Qinglan, who rose unfailingly at dawn. Lingbo lay in bed, laughing at her, “Too bad you don’t have an official post; you’d be punctual just like a clock.”

Qinglan didn’t rush anyone, instead leading the housemaids to sweep the courtyard. Heavy snow fell, leaving birds with no food. Qinglan hung small bamboo baskets filled with grain under the eaves to feed them. Acuo and Yanyan woke late and watched the birds through the glazed window while lying on the kang bed. Yanyan explained each species: sparrows, cuckoos, magpies—the black and white birds—those that eat grain versus those that eat insects. She even explained that swallows fly south for the New Year and return in spring. Her explanations were articulate and interesting.

Lingbo, hair loose and wrapped in a fox fur, came over. Hearing Yanyan, she laughed and patted Yanyan’s rear, “Little rascal, so invested in these things. If you put half that effort into the Flower Message Banquet, we wouldn’t have to worry about you.”

Yanyan saw her carrying osmanthus candy and knew Lingbo had heard her craving it last night and had someone fetch it. She grinned and went to eat the candy.

Only Acuo and Lingbo remained in the bedroom. Lingbo held a small plate, feeding Acuo a piece of candied purple ginger and sat on the bed, turning sideways to watch the birds outside.

Acuo looked up at her for a moment.

Perhaps out of admiration, Acuo didn’t think Lingbo was ordinary. Like snacks, the delicate lotus seed pastry is delicious, but the simple white rice cake has its own charm.

So she seriously asked Lingbo, “Second Sister, how do you make a man listen to you?”

Lingbo was sipping tea and nearly choked. But being strong-willed, she cleared her throat and answered earnestly, “Acuo, are you asking about finding a suitable nobleman at the Flower Message Banquet?”

Unaware she had hit a sensitive spot, Acuo explained, “No, Second Sister already taught me how to find a nobleman. The top three this year are Lord Cui, Lord Wei, and another candidate from the spring exam. What I want to know is, after finding a nobleman, how do you make him obey you? Otherwise, what use is marrying him?”

At fifteen, despite strict rules outside, at home she could still ask such questions that made Lingbo’s hands tremble.

Yet Lingbo remained calm and corrected her, “You mean how to be a proper madam, right?”

Acuo thought for a moment and reluctantly said, “You could say that.”

What she really meant was how to have influence over them even at the banquet, not after marriage.

She wanted to help her two sisters right now.

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Lingbo struggled to steer the conversation back and continued, “There are two paths to becoming a madam. One is what I mentioned the other day—the path Qinglan and Sister Han took, and the path my mother and aunt took: becoming the most proper young madam, managing the household, supervising the servants, and raising children. If you do well, even elders must respect you. Just like the courtyard fears Qinglan—though Lord Ye is our father, he cannot override filial rules. The same goes for couples: even if the relationship is poor, as long as the principal wife’s authority and skill remain, the favored concubines cannot overturn her.”

Acuo knew she couldn’t follow that path.

“What about the second way?” she asked Lingbo seriously.

“The second is harmony between husband and wife, living a private life behind closed doors,” Lingbo admitted frankly. “Honestly, I don’t know much about this path, but I know it exists. It sounds like the way of concubines—love fades as beauty declines—but there must be genuine love somewhere. Sometimes, a man truly loves a woman, risking his life for her; even if age diminishes passion, he won’t stray. Even emperors and generals can experience this.”

It wasn’t surprising Lingbo lacked confidence saying this. Her mother and aunt were refined ladies from noble families—who among them ultimately received true love? Beauty fades, affection dies early; how much more once the beauty has aged?

Acuo hesitated, “Is Sister Han like that?”

“Not at all,” Lingbo said. “Qinglan was somewhat like that back then... but that’s all in the past.”

She seemed unwilling to continue on this topic, gently squeezing Acuo’s cheeks. “You’re quite the inquisitor for such a little thing. I’ll tell you—love and affection are illusions, rare and fleeting. If you can’t work as hard as Qinglan, you can take shortcuts like me: keep your dowry and wealth in your own hands, build your own support network. With Lady Lin and Xiao Yu as your aides, you can protect yourself.”

Acuo nodded, hearing Lingbo’s concern for her future.

But her doubts remained unresolved.

Distant help cannot quench an immediate fire. Even if she marries well and controls her husband, helping her sisters would be no different from Sister Han’s situation.

What she wanted was power she could wield now, to assist Qinglan and Lingbo at the Flower Message Banquet. Though inexperienced, she vaguely understood her own beauty and the immense power it held. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have dared take such risks in the sedan chair.

She decided not to tell Sister Lingbo. For some reason, she instinctively resolved to act alone—like a young tiger on its first hunt. Catching prey would be good; otherwise, it would spare them unnecessary worry.

The first test would be Wei Yushan. That night, he targeted Sister Qinglan—Lingbo’s verdict was that he was a contemptible scoundrel; no trial was too harsh.

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