Chapter 8: The Marquis

Sure enough, trouble followed the moment Ye Lingbo departed.

Previously, the young ladies in the warm pavilion had been chatting, some working on needlepoint, others studying chess manuals, while sipping tea and eating snacks—all in high spirits. A few bold young women, having seen the exquisite needlework Ah Cuo had produced under Ye Qinglan’s guidance, could not resist coming over to ask for advice. Ye Qinglan responded with a smile, gentle as jade, causing them to waver in their previous judgments of her. Just as the atmosphere was at its most harmonious, an elderly maidservant suddenly entered and asked, "Which one is the Second Young Lady of the Meng family?"

There was indeed a Meng family eldest daughter, Meng Yuncui, born to Concubine Su—the same woman who had previously tried to seize Lady Meng’s dowry. She made a move to step forward, but the maidservant was Mother He, a personal attendant to the Old Matriarch He. Naturally, Mother He recognized her, yet she didn't even spare her a glance. Instead, she stared fixedly at Ah Cuo. "It is the Second Young Lady adopted by Lady Meng, the one from Yangzhou."

Ah Cuo stood up and said, "That is me, but my surname is not Meng. My aunt instructed me to take the surname Yu."

Though she appeared delicate, she possessed a spirited nature. Given the actions of the Meng family, she refused to bear their name, and relying on Lady Meng’s final wishes, she was unafraid to debate the matter.

Mother He did not quibble over this and simply said, "Miss Yu, the Old Matriarch requests your presence. Follow me."

As Ah Cuo hesitated, Ye Qinglan smiled and asked, "I wonder what the reason might be? Perhaps Mother He could enlighten us."

"The Old Matriarch has summoned the young lady, and she has her reasons." Mother He, clearly aware that Ye Qinglan was the "Head of the Flower Festival" who had remained unmarried for four years, spoke with little courtesy.

The gentle smile on Ye Qinglan’s face vanished, replaced by a slight furrowing of her brows.

"That is a muddled response." Without even rising from the rosewood chair reserved for ladies of noble lineage, and continuing her embroidery without pause, she said in a slow, calm, and detached tone, "The Old Matriarch just said that all the young ladies present are honored guests and should feel at home. Ah Cuo has just arrived from Yangzhou and is unfamiliar with the customs of the capital; it is the duty of a senior servant such as yourself to be considerate and explain things to her. To be so blunt, and to refuse to answer questions—those who know better would call it carelessness, but those who don't might think the Old Matriarch’s servants are ill-bred."

Her unhurried words caused Mother He’s complexion to change instantly. Whether Ye Qinglan held status among the ladies or not was one thing, but no matter how much influence Mother He wielded, she was still a servant. If word reached the Old Matriarch that she had been negligent toward a guest, she would face severe punishment to uphold the household's reputation.

Mother He quickly piled on a smile and answered patiently, "How would I dare not answer your question, Miss? It is just that when the ladies were arranging the seating earlier, Lady Ye mentioned that Miss Yu is a great beauty—even more so than Miss Lu the Second. The Old Matriarch said she hadn't seen clearly, so she invited the young lady over for a closer look, and intends to gift her a very precious bracelet. I thought this was a wonderful occasion and wanted to bring her over as quickly as possible, so I didn't explain in detail. Who knew that the Eldest Miss Ye would misunderstand..."

"Since it was a misunderstanding, then let it be. Mother He, there is no need to apologize to Sister Qinglan; just be more careful next time." Ah Cuo, mimicking Ye Qinglan’s tone, coolly cut off what Mother He was about to say next.

Having been rebuffed, Mother He had no choice but to hold her tongue.

Ah Cuo had always been quick to learn and mimic; she had immediately grasped the effortless, dignified air of a noble lady that Ye Qinglan possessed. Even Qinglan couldn't help but smile, finally understanding why Lingbo was so fond of Ah Cuo.

When it came to understanding the schemes of the inner chambers, Qinglan was on par with Lingbo. The difference was that Qinglan had learned them but chose not to use them, whereas Lingbo used them with such practiced, quick-witted ease that she appeared flawless and capable of handling any situation. Yet, Qinglan was, after all, the eldest daughter who managed her household, and the moment Mother He spoke, she understood exactly what was happening.

The "Lady Ye" Mother He referred to was, of course, the now-legitimized Concubine Pan, Pan Yurong. Pan Yurong had a daughter named Yinzhang, whose appearance was quite striking, only slightly inferior to Ah Cuo’s. This year’s Flower Festival was a battleground for all, and Pan Yurong had naturally entered the fray, plotting for her own daughter. She had assumed that only Lu Wanyan was difficult to deal with and that Shen Biwei was beyond their reach, while the others were merely defeated foes. She had not expected a dark horse to emerge; Ah Cuo’s beauty was truly astonishing. Having changed her own fate through beauty, Pan Yurong understood its power.

Thus, Pan Yurong had employed a strategy to use one tiger to devour another, praising Ah Cuo before the Old Matriarch to lure her into a confrontation with Lu Wanyan, hoping they would both be weakened so she could reap the rewards.

Such petty schemes, however, greatly underestimated the Lu sisters.

Qinglan wanted to laugh but merely said gently, "In that case, I will accompany Ah Cuo to thank the Old Matriarch for her generosity."

She led Ah Cuo through the winding corridor to the main hall of the He residence. Indeed, several banquet tables had already been set. The ladies were seated in the flower hall, facing the plum blossom grove in the courtyard. The curtains that had blocked the wind and snow were raised, and silver-thread charcoal burned in bronze stoves, keeping the chill at bay. Beside them, a vase held a branch of blooming red plum blossoms. The ladies were playing cards, but aside from those addicted to the game, most were gathered around Lu Wenyin as she drafted the seating chart. Lu Wenyin leaned against the Old Matriarch on the daybed, writing on a small table while the Matriarch reclined, having a maidservant massage her legs.

Lady Ye’s husband held only a mid-ranking official post, and Pan Yurong’s background was even lower. Though she was a legitimate concubine, she was not a lady of a great house, so she could not enter the inner circle and only lingered on the periphery. However, she was sharp-eyed; spotting Ah Cuo and Qinglan, she smiled and said, "The little beauty has arrived! We were just speaking of her. Old Matriarch, look, is she not even prettier than my Yinzhang..."

Her voice was shrill, and as she called out, all the ladies looked over. The Old Matriarch picked up her magnifying mirror to examine Ah Cuo carefully. Fearing that Ah Cuo might feel stage fright in such a setting, Qinglan smiled at her, signaling her to follow her lead, and said, "Greetings, Old Matriarch. I have brought Ah Cuo to pay her respects."

Ah Cuo was clever, and having been trained in etiquette, she immediately followed suit, saying, "I pay my respects to the Old Matriarch."

They would not let her truly kowtow; as she bowed, everyone hurried over to support her, partly because of Qinglan’s presence. Ah Cuo noticed that when Qinglan bowed, many young wives of her own generation quickly stepped aside; they were likely those who had become engaged during the Flower Festival in recent years and, as peers, could not accept her bow.

But Lu Wenyin seemed focused on the seating chart, not moving at all. Only after accepting the bow did she smile in feigned realization and rise, saying, "I was just wondering whose little sister was so beautiful. So, it is Sister Qinglan’s sister."

The crowd chuckled. Two young wives who had been huddled beside her, one in red and one in purple, immediately joked, "It is a novelty to hear a married lady call an unmarried young lady 'sister'."

No wonder Sister Han said she would try her best to come; one was truly powerless to counter the malice that came from the status of a married woman when one was merely an unmarried girl.

Lu Wenyin did not give Ye Qinglan a chance to retaliate, immediately adding, "What are you saying? We are speaking of seniority, what does marriage have to do with it? Sister Qinglan is half a year older than me, so naturally, I call her sister."

"That is true. Qinglan is participating in the Flower Festival this year with the intention of marriage. Should she become betrothed, she will still be a lady, and will remain a sister to all the young wives here," Pan Yurong chimed in with quick-witted, forced cheer.

She spoke with such self-assurance that the ladies present looked on in surprise. While the older ladies were more guarded, the young wives were astonished, and some, like the sycophant beside Lu Wenyin, simply snickered aloud.

Everyone understood her implication—after remaining unmarried for four years of the Flower Festival, reaching the age of twenty-four, could she really be getting married this year?

Setting aside whether she could even find a match, the sheer persistence alone... it seemed this was indeed a prosperous year. With the return of the Northern Town Army, even the veteran spinsters were entering the fray.

Qinglan was not annoyed. She possessed a natural detachment; the surprise, the gossip, and the veiled mockery fell upon her as lightly as snowflakes, unable to touch her. Even after hearing the snickers, she simply said coolly, "You ladies are teasing me; I am merely here to look after my younger sisters."

Her composure was so chilling that the laughter gradually died away. The Old Matriarch, being a woman of status, maintained proper decorum: "I have been so busy talking that I haven't let the two young ladies sit. Bring tea, quickly."

The tea arrived, and things felt a bit better—at least they had somewhere to put their hands. But someone would not let it rest. For some reason, Lu Wenyin hated Ye Qinglan to such an extent that before Qinglan could even steady her teacup, Lu Wenyin showed the seating chart to another young wife and whispered something. The woman covered her mouth and giggled, "I wonder if 'Sister Qinglan' will be dining with the married ladies or the unmarried girls?"

"Qiaozhen!" Lu Wenyin scolded, while hurriedly apologizing to Qinglan: "Sister Qinglan, please don't be angry; she didn't mean it."

"I am only telling the truth," the young wife called Qiaozhen laughed. "Since she is looking after her sisters, by logic, she should sit with the married ladies. But Lady Ye says Eldest Miss Ye is here to find a match. If she sits with the married ladies, I fear she won't find one. If she sits with the girls, I fear they will be confused as to why there is such an elderly maiden among them..."

After her mocking words, some were amused, some older ladies scolded her, and others, seeing them mock Qinglan, looked on with pity. Ah Cuo clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

It was no wonder Lingbo held such deep hostility toward the ladies at the Flower Festival; she now felt the urge to tear their faces apart.

A weight landed on her shoulder—it was Qinglan, pressing her hand down to signal her to stay calm.

Ah Cuo’s eyes grew hot with a mix of anger, grievance, and guilt—guilt for Qinglan attending this festival because of her, and for not knowing how to report this filthy gathering to Lingbo later.

"You ladies are fond of joking..." Qinglan began, her voice slow and steady, as if to put an end to the mockery. She sat at the outer edge of the main hall, the light of the snow and the sun reflecting off her profile. She still possessed the face of a Bodhisattva, and the demeanor of one...

But her voice stopped abruptly.

A young man stood in the courtyard.

He did not wear armor, as it was a banquet, but was dressed in a dark-colored brocade robe with subtle, dark patterned embroidery and feathered accents. It was nomadic attire, complete with a belt for his sword, trousers, and long boots. He stood half-turned, which made his tall, lean frame seem even more imposing. He was like a beautiful black wolf, or some other wild beast, watching everything quietly in the heavy snow.

His face was handsome, but it was not his beauty that one noticed first. His entire presence—the broad shoulders, the narrow waist, and the sharp, piercing quality in his brow—made one feel a slight sense of suffocation. In the borderlands, he would be a banner among men; here, in the opulent capital and the courtyard filled with plum blossoms, he was even more striking.

There were no such men in the capital; there were only fragile scholars, or noble sons in wide robes and high caps. Everyone else wore their clothes, but he alone was worn by his. One could not ignore his physical presence, nor his face, nor the snowflakes clinging to his hair and how they melted weakly against his cheekbones and lips.

The ladies froze for a moment before instinctively recoiling.

Noble ladies, though they might encounter young male relatives, rarely saw strangers, let alone someone like this.

The He family steward, who had chased after him, explained his identity.

"Marquis, Marquis..." The steward, originally fawning, looked even more hunched over in his presence, wanting to stop him but not daring to. "The ladies are all here, Marquis... there is no such custom in the capital..."

The ladies immediately understood who he was.

There were no other young marquises in the capital. If there were, they would have been "snatched up" by the "heroes" of the Flower Festival long ago. There was only the one who had returned with the Northern Town Army—the greatest and most sought-after "deer" in this hunt, Cui Jingyu, whose title was only waiting for an imperial decree.

"Your arrival is an honor, Marquis. We were unprepared." Even the Old Matriarch had to rise to pay her respects. The ladies no longer hid; they hurriedly sized him up. Those with daughters were naturally sharpening their knives, and those without were already plotting for their nieces or nephews.

Who wouldn't want to bring such a young man of such talent and appearance into their own fold?

Ah Cuo instinctively looked at Qinglan, but was surprised to see her looking down at her tea, as if that supposed betrothal were merely an insignificant rumor.

And the ladies’ reactions clearly showed they were unaware that such a betrothal had ever existed and been broken.

Cui Jingyu did not look at her either.

He did not return the greeting. Although the He family were powerful, there was a distinction between scholars and nobility. He merely nodded coldly and signaled for the person behind him to come forward.

It was a girl of fifteen or sixteen. She was not conventionally pretty; her skin was rough and tanned, unlike the delicate, fair-skinned girls of the capital. Her features were somewhat blunt, with round eyes, an apple-shaped face, and a frame that was perhaps too robust. Though she wore a cloak of the most expensive sable-lined silk, she looked a bit bulky in it. Her eyes lacked the gentle, clever spark of the other girls, appearing somewhat uneasy.

"Young General Wei is occupied, so I have brought Miss Wei over in his stead," Cui Jingyu said, his voice icy. "By the way, I have a message from Lady Wei: she is busy today and cannot attend, so she asks for your help in looking after Leshui."

The crowd realized this girl was the daughter of the soon-to-be-Marquis, General Wei. They had only heard of her brother, who was exceptionally talented and had become a young general at eighteen, now called the Young Marquis. They hadn't known there was a sister.

Lu Wenyin was the quickest to react. Relying on her status as a young wife, she didn't shy away. She stepped down the stairs, took Wei Leshui’s hand, and said, "So this is Sister Leshui. I am the young wife of the Chen family; you can just call me Sister Wenyin. Wanyan, come quickly and meet Sister Leshui."

The ladies reacted, regretting that their own daughters weren't nearby to be introduced to Cui Jingyu. Although noble girls were not supposed to see strange men, since he had intruded, the fault would be his to bear. This was a perfect chance to showcase their own daughters.

Lu Wanyan drifted down gracefully, but before she could make a move to show off, Cui Jingyu instructed Wei Leshui, "Stay here and play. Your brother will come to pick you up tonight."

Wei Leshui had never seen such a scene. She looked at the only person she knew with full reliance and stammered, "I... I am afraid..."

"Afraid of what?" Cui Jingyu frowned, but he did not scold her. He merely lifted his eyes and looked at the Old Matriarch.

"Marquis," the Old Matriarch began.

Cui Jingyu turned his gaze to the ladies. As he was an outsider and so young and handsome, the ladies instinctively avoided his gaze.

He swept his eyes over the crowd, but did not look at Ah Cuo or Ye Qinglan once.

"I know that customs in the capital are strict. Leshui is young; I ask you ladies to be patient, and I will thank you all later," he said coldly.

Lu Wenyin quickly smiled, "Marquis, you are too formal. We will treat Miss Wei as our own sister; we are fond of her already, so there is no need for such talk. Furthermore, at the Flower Festival, all women are as close as sisters. Sister Leshui, you need not be shy; just treat this place as your own home. Isn't that right, everyone..."

The ladies naturally chimed in with agreement, but a voice said coldly, "That may be so, but Sister Qinglan is the kindest woman I have ever met, and even she cannot avoid being bullied at the Flower Festival. I think the atmosphere here is not as guaranteed as Lady Lu claims."

It was Ah Cuo who spoke. In the midst of the harmony, her words were heavy. Wei Leshui shrank back, and Cui Jingyu’s eyes turned cold.

Ah Cuo met his gaze calmly, quietly probing the emotions within those ink-black pupils.

She understood now why Lingbo had pushed open that window that day.

She did not fear offending the ladies with these words because she said them for him to hear.

Was there love? Had there been love? Was there still love? The once-most-distinguished noble lady of the capital and the wolf-like youth standing in the snow—the two people who seemed least likely to be together, who had once been betrothed and then broke that vow—now stood like strangers who had never met. Even though Ah Cuo had never lived through that story, she felt as if she were standing amidst the ruined walls of a great palace, and she could not help but tear up.

If even this could dissipate, then what in this world was eternal? The broken strings, the cracked mirror, the "White Hair Lament," the sorrow of parting. Girls were born understanding the weight of such stories, because it was Ye Qinglan who had made the vow—Ye Qinglan, who was like a Bodhisattva in a temple, devoid of joy or anger. Who could have imagined that she had once loved someone enough to want to marry him? Who could have imagined that she would one day break her own oath?

Cui Jingyu did not speak for a long time.

Of course he understood. How could he not understand who Ye Qinglan loved? A general who could see through the complexities of the world and the battlefield—how could he not understand the cold reality of these ladies in the capital? And he could not fail to understand why the young girl beside Ye Qinglan had spoken up for her.

But he did not speak up for Ye Qinglan.

He merely said coldly, "I have heard of the maneuvers at the Flower Festival in the capital. By the order of the Emperor, the commanders of the Northern Town Army will also participate in the Flower Festival this year. I hope that the tactics of years past will not be repeated this year."

"Marquis, you are joking. What tactics could there be?" Lu Wenyin tried to laugh it off, but after a cold glance from him, she had to smile, "The Flower Festival is a gathering for young ladies; it is naturally pure and innocent. Please rest assured, Marquis."

Cui Jingyu did not respond to her, nor did he offer any reassurance.

He simply said, "Her Majesty the Empress has already invited Her Highness Princess Minghua to preside over this year’s Flower Festival. I am responsible for the commanders of the Northern Town Army. Any betrothals made will be personally inquired about by the Emperor. This is a matter of great importance; I advise all ladies and misses to conduct yourselves accordingly. Farewell."

After speaking, Cui Jingyu departed. The Old Matriarch had to rise to see him off, and Master He hurried over to wait at the second gate to send off the honored guest.

He left as soon as he finished speaking, leaving the ladies with their own thoughts, so preoccupied that they didn't even have time to pursue Ah Cuo’s remark. Qinglan easily smoothed it over with, "Ah Cuo is young and spoke impulsively; please forgive her, ladies." The woman named Qiaozhen wanted to add, "You call yourself the head of the Flower Festival, yet you teach such manners..." but after a glance from Lu Wenyin, she dared not say another word.

Lu Wenyin focused all her efforts on Wei Leshui, appearing gentle and harmless, with no time left to mock Ye Qinglan. She and Lu Wanyan, one warm and witty, the other gentle as jade, surrounded Wei Leshui, asking about her home, her experiences at the border, giving her gifts, complimenting her clothes, and inviting her to their home to view flowers. With their cohorts chiming in, they bewildered Wei Leshui, surrounding her so tightly that not even a needle could pass through. Watching this, Ah Cuo felt a twinge of worry.

In a situation where she was far from home, being treated with such warmth, Wei Leshui might truly believe the Lu sisters were the kindest people. If she were to turn against Qinglan and Lingbo under their influence, what would they do?

"Sister..." she looked hesitantly at Ye Qinglan, not understanding why she hadn't simply taken Wei Leshui from Cui Jingyu’s hands earlier.

Though the betrothal was broken, who among those who knew Ye Qinglan well did not admire her character? Even with her own deliberate words, how could Cui Jingyu not understand?

Then again, Cui Jingyu was always cold and aloof, handing Wei Leshui over to the Lu sisters. He claimed to know about the schemes of the Flower Festival, yet could he not see that the Lu sisters were the source of this filth?

A hundred thoughts raced through Ah Cuo’s mind, but she could not speak them aloud. Sensing her turmoil, Qinglan reached out to rub her back, soothing her.

Ah Cuo felt like crying even more, cursing the irony of fate. If the engagement hadn't been broken, Qinglan would be the proper Marchioness today, and the likes of Lu Wenyin and Yang Qiaozhen wouldn't dare treat her this way.

It was clear that Lingbo’s efforts were justified.

"You, you think too much," Qinglan seemed to read her mind, rubbing her back and teaching her, "In the future, don't speak up for me in these moments. It is useless. Protecting yourself is what matters."

At that moment, the main hall was bustling—some were winning over Miss Wei, some were discussing the Northern Town Army, others were whispering about Princess Minghua, and some were trying to forge connections with both sides. They were left in a corner, ignored.

Ah Cuo was even more resentful.

"Sister, things in this world are not just about whether they are 'useful.' What if the Flower Festival has no outcome? The fact that someone I care about has been wronged is what I must consider. Sister Lingbo taught me this on the first day. How can I only worry about protecting myself?" she argued earnestly.

Qinglan was amused.

"That may be true, but you are younger than me. It is my place to protect you, not yours to protect me." Qinglan finished, and seeing that Ah Cuo wanted to say more, she pressed a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence: "Shh. Do not tell Lingbo about today. If she finds out, she will stir up trouble again."

Ah Cuo did not agree.

It was fortunate she didn't, because Ye Lingbo knew everything by the time the lunch banquet ended. Her information network was far-reaching, and with capable subordinates like Xiao Liu'er and the Yang sisters, nothing that happened at the Flower Festival could escape her notice.