5. Biwei

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Acu obediently followed Lingbo around the corridor, while Yanyan had already wandered off somewhere unknown. It turned out that what Lingbo referred to as "inside" was precisely the main chamber of the Chenxiang Pavilion—the bedroom of Han Yueqi. Their familiarity revealed the closeness between the two families.

The Chenxiang Pavilion was planted with plum blossoms, just at the stage of budding, faintly exuding a subtle fragrance. All the blooms were of the same variety—white plums with green sepals—so elegant and pure, as if a light snow had fallen. Han Yueqi’s bedroom was also infused with the scent of plum blossoms, which wafted through the curtains. Inside, the room was indeed exquisite and luxurious, furnished entirely with antiques. An eighteen-panel silk screen separated the chamber. The outer room held a zitan wood table carved with clusters of grapes; even the table’s brocade was a red silk embroidered with gold patterns. Lingbo led Acu into the inner chamber to see the famed Jiangnan "ba bu" bed, said to have taken a thousand labor-days to craft. The bed curtains were embroidered with ribbons adorned with flowers of the four seasons—truly a remarkable piece of needlework, carrying the refined brushstroke style of literati paintings, yet also radiating the delicate charm of a maiden’s boudoir. It resembled a luxuriant floral wall of cascading branches, exquisitely beautiful.

Acu was carefully studying Han Yueqi's stitching technique when suddenly a commotion arose outside the glazed window. Through the pane, she saw only a red figure, like a flame sweeping inside, accompanied by a maid anxiously calling for her lady.

Before Acu could raise her head, the visitor had already burst in.

“Ye Lingbo, do you want to die?” The voice came before the figure, sharp and cold, as biting as icicles in December, yet oddly sweet, making the scolding almost pleasant to hear. “I thought you’d been bewitched, and when you came to your senses, you’d come here to kowtow and apologize to me. Turns out you’re not afraid of death at all! You’re determined to betray me, aren’t you?”

Acu raised her head in panic, momentarily stunned by the unexpected visitor’s striking beauty. Dressed in vermilion brocade styled like Hu clothing, the woman looked as if she had just returned from horseback riding. Her hair was not pinned up but crowned like a man’s, exuding an air of ease and sharpness. She wore riding boots and held a whip in her hand, her expression imperious and frosty.

Acu instinctively wanted to protect Lingbo, but Ye Lingbo showed no fear, sneering, “Kowtow to you? Wouldn’t want to shorten my life. I’m still waiting for you to come and apologize to me, you ungrateful wretch.”

Hearing this, the visitor’s face darkened further. She snapped her whip sharply on the table, making Acu jump, fearing she might strike someone.

“You just itching for a beating, aren’t you?” she said, then charged forward. Acu tried to intervene but was no match for her speed. She reached Ye Lingbo first and, with unknown strength, lifted her off the ground.

“Don’t be insane.” Ye Lingbo struggled on her shoulder, but the woman only chuckled, setting her down on the bed. When Ye Lingbo tried to get up, she pinned her with one hand and grinned, “Surrender and I won’t hurt you! So, will you surrender?”

Ye Lingbo pinched her arm sharply. “Shen Biwei, if you cause any more trouble, I’ll get angry! You madwoman, can’t you see there are guests? You scared my Acu. I’ll beat you up.”

Only then did Shen Biwei relent, turning to appraise Acu with a smile.

Though unruly before Ye Lingbo, in front of Acu, her demeanor softened considerably. Acu had heard that the Shen family’s patriarch was a top scholar and that his children were all remarkably handsome. Judging by her appearance, she was a highborn lady adored by all, with an aristocratic aloofness in her raised brows. After a glance at Acu, she smiled: “What a beautiful little sister—you truly are ‘my Acu.’”

Ye Lingbo struggled again, retorting, “Don’t be sarcastic. She’s my real cousin.”

Shen Biwei paid little attention to Acu, folding her arms and smirking at Ye Lingbo. “Lingbo, I think you really aren’t planning to attend the Flower Signal Banquet this year, are you? Surrounded by beauties, just giving up on yourself?”

Acu’s heart sank slightly. No wonder she had initially misunderstood their relationship. Shen Biwei’s words were laced with barbs.

Indeed, Acu had noticed this tension upon arriving at the Ye residence but had kept silent—the three Ye sisters were quite different. Lingbo was capable, sharp, quick-witted, and strategic, yet her appearance was ordinary. In contrast, Qinglan was elegant and beautiful, and Yanyan was charmingly adorable. Lingbo’s looks were merely fair, making her seem plain beside her sisters.

Although the Flower Signal Banquet was a matron’s way to showcase her daughters-in-law, the men’s four banquets were held alongside it, including Lantern Festival celebrations and temple visits—occasions for men and women to observe one another. In the capital, noble sons grew up amidst beauties. While one might marry for virtue or for beauty, no one wished to marry an average-looking wife.

Fate was cruel: flawless Qinglan lacked ambition, while Lingbo strived hard but had only a tenth of her sisters’ beauty, provoking deep regret.

That such truths could be spoken plainly showed the closeness between Shen Biwei and Ye Lingbo.

Unwilling to concede, Lingbo snapped, “If you’re worried, just peel off your face and give it to me. You’re not planning to marry anyway—what use is that pretty face?”

Shen Biwei was indeed stunning—though not as slender and delicate as Acu, her fiery radiance was dazzling, impossible to meet her gaze.

She laughed immediately at Lingbo’s words. “You wish. I have great plans for this face.”

Lingbo scoffed, “What plans? You can barely survive going to Baode Temple, how can you be counted on for the Flower Signal Banquet?”

Shen Biwei chuckled and embraced Lingbo. “I’m not marrying, but I’ll be getting a wife someday. Since you’re not planning to attend the banquet, why not make a pair of us? Look at the noblemen there—who’s as handsome as me and cares for you?”

Lingbo ignored her and said scornfully, “Don’t be ridiculous. Who says I’m not attending? I have my plans this year.”

Though joking, Shen Biwei’s face revealed her usual carefree air. Being the legitimate daughter of the Shen family, her parents cherished her like a treasure. Among noble ladies in the capital, she walked with pride and was lazy about everything. At the mention of the Flower Signal Banquet, she frowned, sat at a nearby table, and sipped tea.

“Don’t drink cold tea,” Lingbo tapped her hand and asked seriously, “About your visit to Baode Temple—did you see the Princess Dowager? Your father’s official position is well known in the palace; what did the nobles say when they saw you?”

“Who cares about nobles? It was just the Princess Dowager with some princesses of the imperial princes,” Shen Biwei said impatiently. “She called me over, asked a few questions, let me stay a few nights, then sent me back.”

“Didn’t the Princess Dowager ask why you came?”

“She did,” Shen Biwei answered lazily, “I said I had nothing to do, so I came to the temple to burn incense. The Princess Dowager didn’t say much after hearing that.”

“I swear, you ungrateful—” Lingbo pinched her hard, “Can’t you say one nice thing? If you don’t want to make up an excuse, you could have said you were praying for your grandmother or your parents. I told you, the Princess Dowager was raised by the Empress Dowager and values filial piety above all. If you had leaned on that angle, she would have liked it.”

“Oh, so all your talks about the Princess Dowager were about this?” Shen Biwei was entirely indifferent.

“What else would I be talking about?” Lingbo rolled her eyes. “You’re like the pigsy eating the ginseng fruit, wasting my good opportunity. Which young lady in the capital doesn’t want to show off before the Princess Dowager? Only you have such rotten luck. I planned everything, predicted the Princess Dowager would go to Baode Temple this winter solstice, and coaxed you to go—such a great chance! And you wasted it, ruining my efforts.”

Before Lingbo finished, Shen Biwei caught her point perfectly.

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“You admit it now?” Shen Biwei immediately perked up. “You lied before, saying you wanted me to go to Baode Temple to draw a fortune slip for you, but you’d already planned for me to flatter the Princess Dowager?”

She meant it as an accusation, but Lingbo was even more self-righteous.

“So what if I did? I did it for your own good. What, does kowtowing to the Princess Dowager kill you? Countless young ladies would give anything for this chance. You wasted it and still act so high and mighty. I’m not even scolding you, that’s generosity.” Lingbo gave her a disdainful look. “You were the only one there that day, right? If someone else had taken the opportunity, I wouldn’t forgive you.”

Shen Biwei immediately shut her mouth and resumed drinking tea.

Lingbo’s expression darkened, as if suspecting something. “Who else was there?”

Shen Biwei sipped slowly and said, “The person you’re thinking of.”

At that moment, Lingbo’s eyes flashed with murderous intent. Acu, watching nearby, was startled. This was the true face of her anger and no wonder Lady Meng said Lingbo was so resolute—when she really lost her temper, even others had to yield.

“Lu Wanyang?” Lingbo named her directly. Seeing Shen Biwei nod, her face turned pale. “You really let her take the opportunity?”

“What opportunity, what not? The Lu family is close with palace officials, so of course they got the news first. The Princess Dowager’s temple visit was secret, only known within the palace. The Lu family naturally learned of it. She had all the lines ready about filial piety and praying for elders; she even got teary-eyed. I was laughing so hard listening beside her.” Shen Biwei chuckled.

Lingbo was furious, twisting Shen Biwei’s arm.

“You only know how to laugh, don’t you speak? The Lu family! They think my uncle’s official rank and residence are too small, and they’re not close with their own grandmother. They only visit their maternal uncle’s home during New Year. Their grandmother lives just next door to our old madam’s family. Every time, their grandmother drags me and Yanyan over, asking when her granddaughters will come so she can prepare hot meals—makes me sad just hearing it. People like that, how dare they pretend to be loyal and filial in front of the Princess Dowager?” Lingbo scolded while lecturing, “I know you’re dumb. I didn’t expect you to cleverly expose her in front of the Princess Dowager. Can’t you just say what I told you? You, freezing your ears off to treat your grandfather’s neuralgia by hitting a woodpecker, not knowing how to talk—what use is that? Being outdone by someone like Lu Wanyang, it infuriates me.”

Shen Biwei was a witty soul; seeing Lingbo so worked up, she wasn’t angry but patted her arm and smiled, trying to calm her.

“Don’t be so upset. It’s just the Princess Dowager. I’m not a stranger to her. If worse comes to worst, I can tell my mother to take me to visit her residence. It’s not a big deal.”

That only made Lingbo glare at her harder.

“I don’t want to argue. A formal visit is not the same as a chance encounter. Don’t you know how important this year’s Flower Signal Banquet is?” Seeing Shen Biwei nod superficially while only interested in tea, Lingbo sighed and gave up teaching her. “Forget it. I’m done with you. Acu, come here.”

Acu had been quietly listening all along and came over when called.

“Meet Shen Biwei,” Lingbo said disdainfully to Acu, “a scruffy little rascal the Shen family picked up from the temple by accident. It’s a miracle she grew up like this.”

Shen Biwei laughed but kept her usual aloof arrogance, smiling at Acu. “Don’t believe her nonsense. I’m my parents’ real daughter. There will be many people at the banquet, little sister—don’t be afraid. If you need help, find me.”

Lingbo was surprised. “You’re actually planning to attend the banquet this year?”

Shen Biwei lazily toyed with her teacup. “I have to. The old man gave a strict order. The Northern Garrison is returning this year with many of his old subordinates. He wants me to pick a good match.”

Lingbo’s expression shifted. Acu understood immediately.

“In that case, find out about someone for me—”

“No need. Cui Jingyu, right? My sister-in-law already asked about him.” Shen Biwei was well informed. “He’s reputed to have done great deeds at Mingsha River and is coming back to receive a noble title. Many are eager to marry into that family. Our old man has his own ideas, but I told him to stop meddling.”

Lingbo pursed her lips, silent for a long moment.

“I know you’re going to compete this year. But I advise you, Qinglan has big plans—better not get involved,” Shen Biwei said, playing with her cup.

Lingbo only smiled coldly.

“I can’t not compete. Such a grand event happens once in ten years. If not for myself, I must back up Yanyan and Acu. Hmph, Lu Wanyang and her crew are already making moves? They think this is all theirs? Everyone plays their own game.”

Seeing Lingbo unmoved, Shen Biwei didn’t press further but had her maid bring in the spoils of a small hunt on the way back from the temple. Strong as she was, Shen Biwei carried a string of birds and pheasants in one hand and a dozen rabbits in the other, about to place them on the table, only to be scolded by Lingbo.

“Aren’t you busy weaving feathered satin? Will these feathers be enough? These blue birds are rare, none in the shops. I hunted them for you—I almost lost my shoes running.”

“The banquet’s in two days; no time to weave now. Buying ready-made is too late,” Lingbo complained, then called the maid, “Did you get any venison? Acu is weak; she needs venison and deer blood to be energetic at the banquet.”

Shen Biwei glanced at Acu and said calmly, “I’ll have someone fetch some. It should arrive before dinner.”

The Shen family’s feast was naturally extravagant. Unlike Qinglan’s subtle artistry, theirs was solid and fresh. Because of Shen Biwei’s request for deer blood, the banquet featured fresh deer antler, simmered with mountain ginseng and wild Poria in chicken soup—a potent tonic. Lingbo laughed, “One sip of this and you won’t need sleep tonight.”

“Perfect. Stay at our place tonight. Qinglan and I have much to discuss. Let Biwei entertain you girls; her room has many fun things.”

“Great!” Yanyan eagerly agreed, clearly admiring Shen Biwei and clinging to her to hear tales of the outside world.

Qinglan smiled and said, “I have no objection, but first we must see everyone home. They all need to prepare for the banquet; they can’t stay out.”

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“Pan Yiniang outside says you’re going to the Flower Signal Banquet this year—is that true?” Han Yueqi asked softly.

“She whispered into Lord Ye’s ear, naturally hoping my sister attends to embarrass her,” Ye Lingbo replied. “I think it’s fine if sister goes; we’re all here to protect her. Until the last moment, nothing’s decided.”

She rarely called her sister that, usually addressing her as Qinglan. Acu, keenly observant, noticed the subtle emphasis beneath her casual words. Unexpectedly, Han Yueqi caught the glance and smiled knowingly. Truly a girl with a perceptive, delicate heart.

Lingbo was even smarter but flustered by concern, revealing her slip. Qinglan’s gentle nature, however, kept her from noticing. Han Yueqi smiled and cooperated, “We’ll see what Qinglan wants. I’m definitely going. My eldest miss will attend this year, and I must accompany her. Our family still holds the Tung Blossom Banquet. Qinglan can decide later.”

Though drunk, Qinglan remained composed and said, “We’ll see.”

Perhaps from a childhood of austerity, Acu found comfort in the lively warmth. Lingbo coaxed her to drink two cups of deer’s blood wine. The warmth spread through her body as the heated room felt like spring. Outside, snow fell gently past the glazed windows. Surrounded by kind, protective sisters, Acu felt a hazy peace—like childhood New Year’s when her parents were gone but her grandfather stayed up with her, writing spring couplets and preparing for the New Year, telling stories of the Nian beast, falling asleep amid the city’s fireworks, as if she would never grow up.

Comfortable in the bustle, drunk and drowsy, she curled beside Lingbo, feeling warmth in her arms. Qinglan had draped her and the others with a fox-fur cloak and tucked warmers into their laps. Outside, the north wind howled, but inside the carriage, the sisters were warm enough to fall asleep.

“I’ll see you off,” Shen Biwei said, helping her into the carriage. Then, catching Lingbo climbing aboard, she grabbed her legs and lifted her directly onto the carriage shaft. Drunk and playful, they laughed together.

“Don’t be stubborn with Sister Han,” Lingbo slurred, “She’s arranged everything for you at the banquet. Just wait.”

“First, you arrange yourself,” Shen Biwei said, unaffected by the wine, looking back, “Why are Yu Boya and Zhong Ziqi still chattering away? Endless soul-baring, huh?”

She meant Han Yueqi and Ye Qinglan escorting each other with lanterns at the steps, inseparable since morning, discussing even the recipe for the New Year’s sweet bird’s nest soup in endless rounds.

Lingbo sat inside the carriage, drawing the curtain, smiling.

“They’re clearly like Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai, performing the eighteen farewells.” She teased even more sharply, “Go hurry them up; if they keep this up, dawn will break.”

“Lingbo is making things up again,” Han Yueqi heard and laughed, though she still helped Qinglan into the carriage, cautioning, “If the snow gets heavy, stay put. If not, come back. I feel like there’s still so much to tell you; how did the day pass so quickly?”

“Alright, if the snow’s heavy, I’ll come get you myself,” Shen Biwei urged. “Even Shen Yunze doesn’t get this treatment.”

Only Shen Biwei dared to address her elder brother by full name, something no lady would do. The ladies all laughed, and even the housekeeper gently admonished, “Miss.”

“No matter. I’ll come by on the morning of the banquet to borrow your invitation,” Qinglan said calmly, still holding to noble decorum despite the wine.

Han Yueqi frowned.

“Don’t let your Pan Yiniang get too proud. The three legitimate daughters are attending the banquet. If she keeps the invitations, she’s arrogant indeed. If word gets out, what reputation will her daughter have?”

“We don’t all attend every banquet, so borrowing your invitations is easier,” Qinglan replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

Han Yueqi sighed.

“Of course. You just come and get them. Among the twenty-four banquets, whenever I’m free, I’ll accompany you. If I can’t go, Lady Han will go with you.”

“No need. You’re too busy with your own affairs. Don’t waste your time on this,” Qinglan said. “Rest assured, I know my limits.”

Han Yueqi’s eyes were full of concern, though unsaid.

Shen Biwei proposed, “Why don’t I—”

Qinglan stopped her.

“Attending the Flower Signal Banquet is already a concession. The banquet is for all, and it would be too much for you.” She smiled gently, stroking Shen Biwei’s hair. “A lady like you is a wild goose in the clouds, meant to soar high. Why trap yourself?”

Her words stirred something in Shen Biwei, silencing her from saying anything against her will.

“Alright, the snow’s getting heavier. Let’s all go back and keep warm.” Qinglan cheerfully arranged everyone’s departures. “After the Plum Blossom Banquet, I’ll host a feast at home to celebrate and reward everyone. We haven’t properly thrown a banquet this year—don’t miss it.”

“Of course not,” they all replied.

The closer the bonds, the harder the farewells. Acu only heard Han Yueqi still discussing dishes for the next banquet as the carriage moved. Yanyan was already drunk and asleep; Lingbo was nodding off. Acu curled beside Lingbo drowsily, feeling warmth in her arms as Qinglan covered them with fox fur and nestled warmers against each. Outside, the north wind howled, but inside the carriage, the sisters were warm and ready to drift to sleep.