4. Sister

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When A’cuo woke up in the Wutong Courtyard, the sky was already bright with daylight.

Not only did Lady Lin feel surprised, but A’cuo herself was somewhat astonished. Since arriving in the capital, even when by Madam Meng’s side, she had never slept so soundly. Perhaps deep down she sensed that within the Meng residence, everyone was watching one another like predators; with Madam Meng’s fragile health, what seemed like a place to settle was actually like floating duckweed on water, uncertain from one day to the next.

In contrast, the ordinary courtyard belonging to the Ye family was the domain of the Ye sisters themselves. No matter how scheming Concubine Pan might be, there was always Qinglan in front and Lingbo behind, so the turmoil could not reach this courtyard.

Otherwise, Yanyan would never have slept so sprawled out, utterly carefree.

Though Yanyan had not yet risen, A’cuo felt a bit embarrassed and quickly got up to wash and dress. At that moment, Lingbo’s maid Xiaoliu entered with a smile.

“Young Mistress Biao woke up so early? Our mistress said no need to fix your hair first; eating is the main priority.”

The banquet of eight delicacies yesterday had been said by Lingbo to be hastily prepared, but indeed today’s breakfast was even more splendid. A small round table was set with a steamer underneath; the little room was cozy and inviting. At the center, a copper pot bubbled with chicken soup, into which silver-thread noodles were dropped. The table was laden with various side dishes—ham, fish, meatballs, and shredded tripe were expected—but the most unusual was a bunch of green wild vegetables that looked very familiar.

“Come, sit,” Lingbo called her over. “Qinglan just mentioned that yesterday’s banquet was rushed and didn’t include what you liked. Today is a special treat for you. I heard that in Yangzhou, they eat silver-thread noodles for breakfast, and they absolutely must be paired with these wild greens called ‘caotou.’ They go best with chicken soup.”

A’cuo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Really caotou? How did Sister Qinglan get it?”

Lingbo smiled and explained, “Yangniang asked several vegetable vendors, but none had Jiangnan greens. Only the Wu’an Marquis family, old friends of the Shen family, have a country estate where the matriarch, also from Jiangnan and having accompanied her husband to the capital on official business, loves these veggies. They sent them early this morning, just in time for breakfast.” She dipped her chopsticks into the chicken soup and said, “Try it—you’ll know if it’s the right taste.”

A’cuo quickly took the bowl and chopsticks and served herself some. Then she ladled a bowl of chicken soup for Qinglan first.

“Caotou shouldn’t be boiled too long; you have to fish it out after just one blanching.” After serving Qinglan, she turned to Lingbo: “Sister, do you eat the chicken?”

Qinglan laughed, “It’s specially made for you. How come you’re serving us instead?”

A’cuo smiled too.

“You don’t know, silver-thread noodles are eaten behind closed doors by families. Not only are they delicious, but they’re fun to make. When my mother was alive, she often made them for me. She never let me near the pot, afraid I’d burn my hands. As a child, I longed for the day I could make them myself; I even played ‘house’ with my friends using mud as pretend noodles.”

Lingbo teased, “You’re so refined now, no one would guess you were once as skilled at playing in the mud as Yanyan was.”

“Who’s been talking behind my back?” Yanyan stretched lazily and came out. Spotting the fresh greens on the table, her interest piqued. “Come, give me a bowl too. I want mine with meat yan. A few days ago, Sister Han gave me some meat yan—it’s delicious. I can easily finish two or three jin a day. Second sister’s stingy and keeps them all to herself.”

Lingbo laughed and scolded her, “How dare you say that! Those were given as New Year gifts, made by a master chef specially invited from the palace—there weren’t many to begin with. But you eat like Zhu Bajie with the ginseng fruit, treating it like a meal. You’re wasting Sister Han’s kindness.”

“No matter, Sister Han said to ask her for more when we run out,” Yanyan grinned and sat down. “Besides, given the friendship between Sister and Sister Han, our family won’t lose out no matter what. Just eat freely.”

A’cuo lowered her eyes, concentrating, but her curiosity about this “Sister Han” grew stronger. She was naturally clever, beautiful, and skillful—an outstanding girl in Yangzhou. But coming to the capital revealed the vastness beyond one’s own world. Someone as remarkable as Ye Qinglan, respectful to elders, well-mannered, skilled in negotiation, adept in managing the household affairs and daily needs with impeccable care—these were qualities that could not easily be learned even after years of devotion.

Though A’cuo had never met Sister Han, from the fragments she had heard, Han was a figure who could hold her own beside Ye Qinglan. The daughters of noble families in the capital were cultivated with steady, rigorous training over a decade—a standard that mere cleverness could not match.

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The “Sister Han” they spoke of was actually married into the Shen family in the capital. Although the Shen family had no noble title, they were firmly established officials. Minister Shen served in the Ministry of Rites, in the prime of his career. He had two sons and two daughters; his primary wife bore one son and one daughter, and the concubine had the other two. All were talented and the family was harmonious.

The Shen family’s eldest son, Shen Yunze, married the eldest legitimate daughter of Minister Han, Han Yueqi—the very “Sister Han” the Ye sisters often mentioned. They had been married for over three years and had a daughter. The young couple was perfectly matched, living in harmony.

A’cuo had heard from Madam Meng that the flower-viewing banquets in recent years had become rather lackluster. Four years ago was the real splendor, with the legitimate daughters of the Ye, Han, and Lu families all participating, each vying for prominence. Though everyone secretly acknowledged Ye Qinglan as the leader, after the banquet ended, Qinglan’s marriage prospects stalled, and her brilliance gradually faded. Meanwhile, the daughters of the Han and Lu families had excellent outcomes. Han Yueqi, especially, made a prestigious marriage; her husband was young and accomplished, winning the third-place imperial examination rank the following year, and they soon had a daughter—double blessings that brought great honor.

Amid such glory, Han Yueqi still maintained a close, long-standing friendship with Ye Qinglan, which was all the more precious.

A’cuo was astonished. Despite the bitter cold of winter, Han Yueqi had arranged for attendants to wait by the side gate days in advance. Since the visitors were unmarried young ladies, naturally they entered through the side gate, but the outer courtyard had the steward herself to greet them. Inside, another matronly housekeeper, a middle-aged woman with a long face, dressed more splendidly than Lady Yang, stood by the second gate, smiling warmly and personally assisting the young ladies out of their carriages—an indication of great regard.

“Madam has been reminding me for days,” the housekeeper Lady Han said with a smile. “She said with the New Year’s busyness, if the young lady didn’t come, there wouldn’t be time for a proper gathering. Luckily she came today, or I’d have had to urge her.” Then she teased Lady Yang, “Sister Yang, you knew Madam was eagerly waiting, yet you didn’t remind the young lady. You even sent me hunting for Yangzhou vegetables. How were they? Did they taste good? I really put a lot of effort into it.”

Everyone laughed naturally. Qinglan said, “I just finished handling Auntie’s matters and knew Yueqi was thinking of me.”

Lady Yang added, “She was very pleased after eating. Even Young Mistress Biao thanked me for your kindness.”

Lady Han was sharp and, while supporting Qinglan, fixed her gaze on A’cuo with admiration. “So this is the Meng family’s cousin? Truly a beauty. Tsk tsk, Yangzhou does produce beauties.”

“Lady, you flatter me,” A’cuo replied demurely, eyes lowered, observing proper etiquette.

Lingbo, fearing A’cuo’s embarrassment, took over the conversation with a smile. “Lady Han, I think Sister Han isn’t just missing Sister Qinglan—she’s probably longing for our rose wine.”

Everyone laughed again. Lady Han said, “It’s not just Madam missing it; I miss it too. Let me make this clear, Sister Yang—you mustn’t be so formal today. We’ll drink until none of us is sober. Madam has even prepared guest rooms, waiting to chat late into the night with the eldest young lady. Second young lady, don’t refuse either; that one’s back too, so just wait for her to settle accounts with you.”

The group was in high spirits, chatting and laughing as they walked into the inner courtyard. The Shen family was large and prosperous; though not divided formally, each branch had its own residence. The master and mistress lived in the main house, while the young master and his wife stayed in a side courtyard.

Lady Han, seeing it was A’cuo’s first visit, introduced her. “Cousin, this is our Madam’s residence, the Chenxiang Pavilion, adjacent to the main house. The young master now serves at the Hanlin Academy and only returns to live here about ten days a month. The rest of the time it’s all womenfolk, so this courtyard belongs entirely to our family. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Though Lady Han always referred to Han Yueqi as “Madam,” she frequently said “our family,” and A’cuo quickly deduced that she was a personal maid who had accompanied Han Yueqi upon marriage. She was competent, sharp, forthright, and thorough—a clear product of the Han family’s careful grooming to help Han Yueqi manage affairs in her new household.

From Lady Han’s current position as housekeeper, it was evident Han Yueqi’s life had unfolded just as planned: a noble daughter, raised well from youth, debuting at the flower-viewing banquet, betrothed and married, with an accomplished and filial husband, managing household finances, raising children, and taking charge of the household staff. Truly a model life for a highborn lady.

If all went well, Ye Qinglan’s life should have been the same.

The complex emotions in A’cuo’s heart surged further when she saw Han Yueqi.

Waiting below the Flower Pavilion, Madam had her hair elegantly coiffed and adorned with gold and jade. Her brocade gown was restrained in color but could not conceal her dignified and graceful bearing. Her complexion was as smooth as jade on an oval face, with eyebrows and eyes like a painting. Just in her early twenties, she smiled warmly. To A’cuo, she resembled Ye Qinglan, but in terms of poise and spirit, Qinglan was more ethereal and transcendent.

Of course, among close friends, such comparisons did not occur. They were true confidantes; although one was now a wife and the other still a maiden, their greeting was as intimate as sisters. Han Yueqi lifted her skirt and descended the stone steps to meet Qinglan herself, laughing, “Finally you’ve arrived! If you didn’t come soon, I was going to send the steward to tie you up!”

“It’s not that bad,” Qinglan smiled calmly and gracefully, always composed and mild, which made her affection for Han Yueqi seem all the more precious. She took Han Yueqi’s hand and ascended the steps together. “How’s your health? Have you used the ointment I sent?”

“I have, and I’m already better,” Han Yueqi smiled brightly. “Just a slight sprain of the waist. It happened to coincide with a family birthday celebration, so I delayed treatment for half a month. My body is much sturdier than yours. But you—why have you lost weight again? Busy with matters at the Meng household?”

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“Not really busy with anything. Just the cold weather made me thinner,” Qinglan replied.

They had already entered the inner chamber. Han Yueqi had been observing A’cuo for some time. Seeing Qinglan protect her and noticing that A’cuo remained calm and composed despite her comments, Han Yueqi grew fond of her disposition. Smiling, she said, “So this is Meng family’s younger sister? Truly beautiful.”

“Replying to Sister, my surname is Yu, and my given name is Yaoqing. You may call me by my childhood nickname, A’cuo, as my eldest and second sisters do,” A’cuo answered obediently.

In noble families of the capital, secrets were scarce, especially before a lady like Han Yueqi, who already managed her household. Even the strictest households could not prevent the servants from exchanging news. Lady Yang and Lady Han, the two housekeepers, were even more involved than the ladies themselves, often helping each other, so information naturally circulated.

The Meng family’s deed of nearly swallowing up an orphan’s dowry was well known among the noble families in the capital. While some sympathized with A’cuo, most thought Ye Qinglan lacked prudence. An unmarried young lady, an outsider meddling in another family’s affairs, was considered overly presumptuous.

Yet Han Yueqi saw it differently.

“She has a likable nature, well worth bearing such criticism on her behalf,” she said to A’cuo with a smile. “Since Qinglan has taken you in, you are now my sister as well. This small gift is but a token of our welcoming—you may consider it an addition to your attire for the flower-viewing banquet.”

The housekeeper’s order was impeccable. With a lift of her hand, Lady Han brought a tray covered in purple satin embroidered with scroll patterns. On it rested a pair of jade bracelets with exquisite luster, like pools of clear water. Though Madam Meng’s dowry was fine, it dated back twenty years, and the styles of gold and jade had long since changed. While gold could be remade, jade was harder to replace. Now, with narrow sleeves in fashion, the flower-viewing banquet required such delicate jade bracelets—for tea drinking, embroidery, playing the zither, and pinning flowers. They peeked from the sleeves, highlighting slender fingers—both elegant and expensive without being ostentatious.

A’cuo dared not respond and looked to Qinglan, who nodded slightly with a faint smile, signaling that A’cuo should accept the gift. Still, she hesitated.

“Now you say I’m jealous,” Lingbo teased, “but Sister Han herself just arrived and brought such a generous gift, afraid that A’cuo and Sister Qinglan would become close, right?”

Han Yueqi smiled back, “You’re so sharp.”

“Enough. Since A’cuo feels shy to accept, I’ll take it on her behalf.” Lingbo joked as she accepted the gift but promptly handed it to Lady Lin. The young ladies were mostly attended by maids, while the ladies themselves were busy. When they gathered and talked, it was a different world. As A’cuo was new, she had no trusted chief maid, so Lady Lin took on the role.

Han Yueqi paid little direct attention to A’cuo. She and Qinglan had not seen each other for some time. When the maids brought tea and snacks, the two women spoke quietly, mostly with Han Yueqi talking and Qinglan listening. Though Han Yueqi appeared dignified and composed outside, in front of Qinglan she reverted to the demeanor of a young girl. When speaking of the household affairs in recent months, her expressions were vivid—sometimes wrinkling her nose, sometimes laughing in disdain, almost as if complaining. “I had Lady Han drag out and scold the ringleaders. Our Madam has a good temper, and the master loves to rest in the other courtyard, which has spoiled them rotten. They’re decades old, with children ready to attend the flower-viewing banquet, yet still resorting to these tricks—it’s both infuriating and laughable…”

Qinglan listened with a gentle smile, occasionally interjecting to offer advice or soothe her mood. “Madam Shen naturally wouldn’t say anything; you must bear the burden of managing it all. Some things are hard to say as a junior. I wonder if the second young lady understands reason? It’s always easier to persuade a mother and daughter.”

“Not really. She’s cut from the same cloth as her mother. Luckily, our eldest young lady is carefree and ignores such trivial matters…” Han Yueqi smiled and glanced at Lingbo, her voice lowering. A’cuo pretended not to notice.

Sure enough, Lingbo came to call her.

“Come, let’s go inside to warm ourselves by the fire. Sister Han’s embroidery is exquisite—better than Qinglan’s even. I’ll show you. Yanyan and I don’t like embroidery; she doesn’t even know who to teach.”

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