Chapter 10

Song Yan returned to her own courtyard and sat down by the couch, letting out a long sigh of relief. Fortunately, Wei Qi was fair and just; otherwise, who knew what this matter might have turned into. Coupled with Princess Funing’s haughty attitude, she resolved to avoid the Western Courtyard whenever possible, lest she invite any unexpected trouble.

Sure enough, before long, the sullen sky broke into rain. She lingered indoors, lazily embroidering a fan in fits and starts.

By afternoon, Chunhong came running in from outside, exclaiming that Princess Funing was indeed generous, showing no intention of hiding her wealth. It was said that she had distributed money in the Western Courtyard that very morning—every servant received a wedding bonus. Even a messenger from the Eastern Courtyard, caught in her view, was rewarded as well. The entire back residence was delighted, praising the princess for her magnanimity and kindness.

Qiu Yue, folding clothes at the side, replied, “Let her play the role of the generous benefactor—what does it have to do with us? Besides, it’s the business of the Western Courtyard, and we’d best pay less attention to it in the future.”

Hearing the reproof in her words, Chunhong defended herself quietly, “I wasn’t prying—someone told me about it…”

Song Yan interjected, “It’s nothing. She has a title, enjoys a noble status—perhaps she has always acted thus. Let them be happy about it.”

Yet, the contrast was sharp. Both she and the princess had married into the Duke’s manor in the same month; the princess’s largesse made Song Yan’s side seem stingy and tight-fisted by comparison. The difference was stark, and Qiu Yue’s displeasure stemmed from concern for her mistress’s feelings.

Song Yan, however, was not upset. She only sighed softly, resolving to refine her needlework. The expenditures in the Duke’s manor were vast—the gifts for Xi-jie’er, for the princess—all were prepared by her mother, costing a small fortune. And there would be countless such social obligations ahead.

Her natal family had already provided a generous dowry; hereafter, they could do little more. If she wished to maintain the dignity of a Cabinet Elder’s lady, she would have to manage her household with care—doing much of the embroidery herself wherever possible.

Later that afternoon, a madam from Jinghe Hall arrived to inform her that the Master would dine and stay there that evening and would not be coming over, so Song Yan need not prepare.

She dined alone, bathed, and retired early.

For several days, Wei Qi stayed at Jinghe Hall and did not visit her. From what she knew, he toiled late into the night with official duties and had not gone to Concubine Jiang’s chambers either.

She suspected that once the honeymoon period passed, or if she became pregnant, he would stop coming altogether—nothing would be allowed to interrupt his work.

If that was the case, she could accept it...

After her monthly courses ended and two more days passed, a formal invitation arrived from Jinghe Hall one evening. Wei Qi had brought it back from a colleague; it was for the wedding of the fourth daughter of the Chen family of Xingqing Lane.

Song Yan knew of the Chens—a prominent and noble family—but did not recognize the particular branch who sent the invitation. Apparently, the groom’s family was also in the Ministry of War, and a colleague of Wei Qi. Such a grand occasion called for a personal visit with gifts. Since Wei Qi handed her the invitation, it meant she was to make the arrangements. But she knew nothing of the ties between the Chen family and the Duke’s manor, nor did she have any experience in these matters, so she had to consult her mother-in-law.

The next morning, Song Yan brought the invitation to Madam Zhang during her morning greeting.

Madam Zhang explained, “The lady of the Chen family is a court noble—Consort Dowager Chen. Their third son is in the Ministry of War with our eldest, and their families are quite close.” She summoned Madam Zhao and asked, “What did they send us for our last family celebration?”

Madam Zhao replied promptly, “I recall it was a green-glazed jade Guanyin from the South Sea, with a cash gift of one hundred taels. I’ll check the account books.”

Returning soon with confirmation, she and Madam Zhang discussed and decided to return a glazed screen and an equal cash gift of one hundred taels, instructing Madam Zhao to see to it. Then Madam Zhang told Song Yan, “Your attire today is too plain. You’ll meet many people at the Chen house; you must appear more imposing. Your two maids need new dresses and some jewelry as well—you cannot let your entourage look shabby. When you arrive, observe and listen more, speak little, and follow the host’s arrangements.”

Song Yan listened to the advice and began sorting through her jewelry upon her return. Her mother had foreseen such occasions and prepared several sets of fine clothes and ornaments for her—nothing ostentatious, but respectable enough. Yet she had overlooked her maids.

Qiu Yue and Chunhong still wore clothes from the Song family, with only one new cotton dress each since arriving at the Duke’s manor. Now she realized their attire was inferior even to the manor’s second-class maids, and the appearance of her maids reflected on her own dignity.

With the wedding feast three days away, she promptly gathered some of her own jewelry for the two girls and spent money on two sets of silk garments. The girls were delighted, applying rouge, braiding their hair, and admiring themselves in the mirror for ages.

Watching them, Song Yan teased, “You both look quite stunning. If someone sees you, might they come to me with a marriage proposal? I can’t do without you two for now.”

The maids blushed, knowing their mistress was jesting. Qiu Yue at once left the mirror, feigning indignation. “Madam was the one who insisted we dress up, and now she mocks us for it!”

“Exactly!” Chunhong chimed in.

Song Yan smiled and said nothing, recalling her mother’s warnings.

Her mother had said that both Qiu Yue and Chunhong were of pleasing appearance and honest disposition, but over time, vigilance was necessary to prevent them from developing improper ambitions—specifically, to keep them from seeking favor with the young master and being taken into the inner chambers.

Back then, her mother’s advice had concerned Wei Xiu, and Song Yan had been displeased at the suggestion, unable to imagine Wei Xiu with other women and trusting that her maids would never do such a thing. But now...

If they were to become concubines, at least they would remain within her circle—loyal to her, and she would feel a special affection for their children. There would be harmony, unlike with Concubine Jiang, whose motives were obscure.

Yet, for all her calculations, Wei Qi was wholly absorbed in his duties and had little thought for the inner court. Perhaps her maids would prefer to marry someone who truly cared for them.

In any case, it was a matter for the future; she would wait until she had children of her own before thinking further on it.

Song Yan sighed softly and returned to her embroidery.

A few days later, she went with Wei Qi to the Chen family.

The weather was clear and bright. Their ox cart passed along a street beside the Rongchun River, where a willow tree leaned over the bank and cherry blossoms bloomed. The green of the willows, the red of the flowers, and the clear water made a scene of quiet beauty.

She gazed at it for a long time, recalling past outings—spring excursions, kite flying, gathering wildflowers and greens with friends... Such days would never return.

In the carriage, Wei Qi read his book while she sat upright at his side, her heart soaring into the spring outside.

Soon, they arrived at the Chen mansion. As they alighted, attendants came to greet them—not only members of the host family but also other guests. Even those still engaged in conversation broke away to come over when they saw the Duke’s carriage, waiting for a chance to approach Wei Qi and offer their greetings.

Wei Qi nodded to them, a faint, polite smile on his lips.

Naturally, Song Yan, walking at his side, was addressed as Madame and praised several times for her beauty.

Indeed, status made all the difference. In the past, when accompanying her mother to gatherings, only the hostess would exchange a few words, with occasional acquaintances commenting, “Is this your eldest? She has grown so lovely.” Nothing like this—being fawned over and celebrated.

She even felt her own adornments were too modest for her current status and the occasion.

As they entered the front courtyard, someone called out, “Hong Yu?”

Wei Qi looked up, a slight smile appearing. “Brother Yanting.”

From his expression, Song Yan realized that this was a true acquaintance, perhaps a close friend.

The man, about thirty, dressed in splendid robes that marked his high rank, stood tall and straight with an air of military vigor. He strode forward and said to Wei Qi, “I guessed you’d come today. It’s been so long—let’s have a drink together.”

He then turned to Song Yan. “This must be the new Madame. My apologies for not greeting you sooner.” With that, he bowed to her.

Wei Qi paused, then introduced, “This is my wife’s elder brother, second in his family, also a former classmate of mine and now a close friend.”

Song Yan understood at last—this was the late First Madame’s brother. She greeted him warmly.

The host family then invited Song Yan to the inner courtyard to join the ladies, while Wei Qi and Mr. Guo went off together.

Clearly, the Guos and the Duke’s family were on close terms—even after the First Madame’s passing, Wei Qi and her brother remained friends.

Song Yan pondered this as she followed the host into the inner quarters.

There, she unexpectedly encountered her third aunt.

Overjoyed, Song Yan hurried over and learned that her third uncle was a cousin of the Chen family’s fourth madam, which was why they had come to the wedding. The two were delighted to meet and chatted together.

Later, as they took their seats, her aunt quietly pulled Song Yan aside at noon and asked, “Does the Cabinet Elder in your household have a daughter? How old is she?”

Song Yan did not know Wei Xi’s exact age but replied, “About twelve, I think.”

Her aunt asked, “Is she betrothed?”

Song Yan answered, “Not that I’ve heard. Why do you ask?”

Her aunt explained, “The lady in blue beside me just now, did you see her? She’s your uncle’s teacher’s wife. She asked me to inquire: she has a nephew from the Huang family of Haining, a direct descendant. He’s the eighth son, passed the imperial exam last year at just eighteen, and is awaiting a posting—likely to the Hanlin Academy. He’s not engaged, and she’s interested in your Cabinet Elder’s daughter. What do you think?”

Song Yan was taken aback. She had never imagined she’d be approached with a marriage proposal—let alone for her own “daughter.”

She tried to recall how her mother had handled such situations, realizing the proper response was neither an immediate refusal nor a hasty acceptance. Besides, she was not Wei Xi’s birth mother and could not decide; she would need to consult the girl’s father and grandmother.

So she asked in detail, “The Huang family of Haining? Is that the family of the former Governor Huang?”

“Yes, that’s right,” her aunt said. “Their rank isn’t quite as high as the Duke’s family, but they’re one of the most prominent in Haining. More importantly, the young man is outstanding—just eighteen and already a jinshi. He could well enter the Cabinet one day. If your family doesn’t object, the two families could meet and discuss it further.”

Song Yan listened, impressed, and asked about the young man’s parents, character, siblings, and even whether there were any concubines in the household. Her aunt laughed, “You truly take after my sister—so thorough, even as a stepmother. Don’t worry, there are no such women. The family is steeped in scholarship, and their rules are strict: the household regulations run several meters long. They won’t hire maids who are too pretty, and only older women serve in the young master’s quarters—no one under thirty. If he ever takes a concubine, it would only be after the wife turns thirty-five.”

Song Yan laughed, admiring, “Such a family is indeed upright. But our girl is only twelve—even if the match were agreed upon, the marriage would not take place soon. At the very least, they’d have to wait until she’s fifteen. I wonder if they’d be willing to wait.”

Her aunt replied, “I’ll speak with them. You should also ask your family. If everyone is agreeable, you can discuss it further.”

Song Yan promised to do so and kept the matter in mind, planning to mention it to Wei Qi on their return.