Chapter 20

“Is the west wing used for storing miscellaneous items?” she suddenly asked.

Autumn Moon replied, “Yes, a few bolts of cloth and unused screens are all kept there.”

Song Yan said nothing more. Autumn Moon asked, “Why do you ask, Madam?”

Song Yan felt a bit uneasy. “It’s nothing.”

Autumn Moon looked at her strangely, but Song Yan simply picked up her needlework and went to the side room to sew.

That afternoon, Wei Qi returned from outside, bringing a Songjiang perch gifted by someone. Song Yan had it steamed in the small kitchen, waiting for him to dine.

After he’d finished his meal, Song Yan spoke, “I want to try taking charge of Xi-jie’s upbringing.”

Autumn Moon was startled at once, and Wei Qi was surprised as well. “Why did you suddenly change your mind?”

“You said yourself—I am her mother,” Song Yan replied.

More importantly, no one truly cared about Wei Xi. Grand Madam Guo, who adopted her, was gone; and Wei Qi, her father? He probably thought it had nothing to do with him.

Wei Qi gazed at her in silence. Song Yan continued, “I don’t know how things will turn out, but I will do my best to teach her, and pay attention to her marriage. If she remains stubborn and her marriage isn’t ideal, you mustn’t place the blame on me.”

“Of course not,” said Wei Qi. “From now on, her upbringing and discipline are yours to manage; her marriage as well. It is a blessing you’re willing to take her in hand, I shall not utter a word.”

“In that case, tomorrow I’ll have the west wing tidied up, so Xi-jie can live there. As for Concubine Jiang and Xi-jie’s arrangements, I’ll leave that to you.”

Wei Qi nodded. “Very well.”

After Wei Qi finished his meal and left for Jinghe Hall, Autumn Moon said, “No wonder Madam was afraid I’d reproach her—so this is what you were waiting for, bringing it up directly with the Master.”

Song Yan smiled ingratiatingly. “I was afraid you wouldn’t agree. It’s certainly a thankless task.”

“I’m a servant, how dare I say whether I agree or not? Naturally, it’s Madam’s own decision—whatever she wishes, so be it,” Autumn Moon said, sounding somewhat frustrated.

Song Yan took her arm. “I just thought, she truly isn’t likable, but she’s only a young girl yet. None who should care for her—grandmother, parents—do. The only one who looks after her has ulterior motives. When she marries, what decent husband could she find? She may spend her life in hardship, and I could at least lend her a hand.”

At the very least, Song Yan could oversee any marriage proposals for Wei Xi, so she wouldn’t end up with a dreadful match.

Autumn Moon sighed. “I know Madam is soft-hearted, what can I say? Perhaps when she’s older, she’ll understand.”

With Wei Qi’s order, the maids and matrons from Concubine Jiang’s courtyard sprang into action. The next day, all of Wei Xi’s belongings were moved, and she herself came over, her face cold and sorrowful, as if she’d been dispossessed.

Song Yan replaced her attendants, bringing over two of her own and two more from elsewhere, wary that the previous ones had grown too close to Concubine Jiang and might pass messages to Wei Xi.

Once everything was settled and the movers had gone, it was time for lunch. Song Yan ordered food sent to the west wing, but soon a maid returned to say Wei Xi refused to eat.

Hearing this, Song Yan rose and went to the wing, only to find it empty save for Wei Xi, sitting motionless at the bedside, quietly weeping as she drew near.

Song Yan stood at the doorway for a long time before Wei Xi noticed her, hastily wiped her tears, and looked at her with resentful lips pressed tight.

Song Yan stepped in, helplessly asking, “Did Concubine Jiang say something about me to you?”

Wei Xi curled her lip. “Petty-minded!”

Song Yan knew well that, with Concubine Jiang’s way of speaking, she wouldn’t directly malign her. She would only put on a sorrowful air, weeping as she warned Wei Xi to be cautious, not to give her stepmother any leverage.

It was a subtle hint: Your stepmother will surely torment you.

“If she truly cared for you, she’d tell you repeatedly to be good to me, not to offend me. Think about it—your father’s mind is absorbed in official duties, when has he ever concerned himself with the inner household? Your grandmother’s health is poor, and she doesn’t bother with such matters. When it comes time for your marriage, who will advocate for you? Isn’t it me?”

“Even if I don’t oversee your marriage, once you’re wed, will you abandon your siblings at your natal home? How will you visit your family then?”

Wei Xi wanted to retort, “Why must I visit my natal family?” but the words seemed childish and she remained silent.

“At least here, you can see your father every now and then. I’ve never beaten or scolded you; there’s nothing to cry about. Eat your meal, and when you’re done, come to my room.”

Wei Xi said nothing, but later she did come. Seeing Song Yan still eating, she stood outside the door, gazing at the green peach tree with a deadened heart, waiting quietly.

When Song Yan finished, she called her in.

“Have you studied?” Song Yan asked.

Wei Xi replied, “Of course.”

“Where did you study? What did you learn?”

“Grandfather once invited a female teacher to the manor. I studied with my aunts—‘Women’s Analects,’ ‘Lessons for Women,’ ‘Biographies of Virtuous Women.’ Later, Third Aunt stopped attending, so I stopped as well.”

“After the teacher left, you never studied again?”

“No,” Wei Xi said. “Afterwards, I learned needlework.”

“You should still read more books. Even without a teacher, you can read on your own. Your father and grandfather both have scholarly honors, so our family’s library must be substantial. There’s no need to borrow elsewhere.”

Wei Xi knew the Song family was renowned for its upright reputation, and Grand Master Song had been a literary titan, their greatest pride. Naturally, Song Yan esteemed learning. Wei Xi couldn’t help but say, “Concubine said, a woman’s virtue lies in lacking talent. I’ve read enough.”

“That saying is originally, ‘A man’s virtue is his talent; a woman’s virtue is her lack of talent.’ The intention was to encourage both men and women to prioritize virtue—so long as one is virtuous, talent is secondary, not to discourage reading,” Song Yan explained.

Seeing Wei Xi’s disdainful expression, Song Yan continued, “If you don’t read, how will you understand reason? And without understanding, how can you be virtuous?”

Wei Xi fell silent. Song Yan asked, “Can you keep accounts?”

Her voice was softer. “No.”

“Start with reading, then. I have a set of ‘The Book of Songs’—read it first, and in a couple days Autumn Moon will teach you abacus.”

Wei Xi said nothing, silently accepting. She understood well—when she married, she would become mistress of a household. Knowing accounting would be immensely useful, and the more she learned, the better her standing would be.

So Song Yan worked at the long table on accounts while Wei Xi read on the other side. On a separate table lay Wei Qi’s official documents and letters, which Song Yan never touched.

After an hour or so, Spring Red brought refreshments, offering a plate to Song Yan and another to Wei Xi.

Wei Xi looked at the pastries—still the Dragon Boat Festival treats sent from Second Madam’s yesterday, hard as stone. She disliked them. The tea, too, was inferior to her own.

She thought Song Yan was truly stingy.

Song Yan, unaware of Wei Xi’s inner thoughts, was about to drink her tea when her gaze fell on an account book. She was startled, glanced at Wei Xi, and said nothing.

Later that afternoon, after Wei Xi had spent enough time, Song Yan sent her back to her room and showed Autumn Moon the account book.

It listed, from the Duke himself down to the maids and errand boys, each person’s monthly allowance. Song Yan happened to be looking at Concubine Jiang’s page, and found she received eight taels a month. The other concubines received only three taels monthly, and wives like Song Yan and Zhu Manman just five taels. Concubine Jiang had several taels more than them.

Autumn Moon wondered, “Could Wei Xi’s allowance have been given to Concubine Jiang?”

Song Yan replied, “No, Xi-jie has four taels each month herself.”

Neither could understand. Song Yan made a note to ask Second Madam next time—since she’d just taken over the accounts, there was much to inquire about.

The next day she got her answer from Second Madam—the extra five taels were for Wei Xi’s upbringing.

When Grand Madam Guo passed, leaving Wei Xi behind, since she hadn’t left any children, the Duke’s manor returned her dowry to the Guo family. As Wei Xi’s adoption had been suggested by the Guo family, they left a sum to cover her upbringing. Wei Qi also contributed, giving the money to Concubine Jiang for Wei Xi’s care. The funds were managed by Second Madam and distributed monthly, so Wei Xi’s allowance was generous, and Concubine Jiang’s income considerable.

Song Yan felt a deep envy—Wei Qi cared nothing for his daughter, but was truly generous with money! She hadn’t considered money when she decided to raise Wei Xi, but now that she knew, she was tempted. Caring for Wei Xi was indeed exhausting.

After much thought, she decided to bring it up with Wei Qi—since he was the one in charge.

After Wei Xi had stayed with her for several days, and seeing Wei Qi in good spirits, Song Yan picked an opportune moment to ask for the five taels each month.

She chose a time when she could “whisper by his pillow.”

These days, Wei Qi seemed in unusually high spirits—not as methodical and routine as before. He visited more often, was more patient—even Song Yan felt… it wasn’t so bad.

That night, after he was done and hadn’t gone to bathe, he lay beside her, gently stroking her hair, their breaths entwined.

Once their breathing calmed, she spoke sweetly: “Master…”

“Hmm?”

“I heard from Second Aunt that Concubine Jiang receives five taels a month for raising Xi-jie…”

“Is that so?” Wei Qi was silent for a while, then recalled, “I believe that’s true.”

It had been so long, and the sum wasn’t much—he’d nearly forgotten.

Summoning her courage, Song Yan wrapped her arms around his shoulder—in that moment, she thought, thank heavens for the darkness, or she’d be mortified.

Clinging to him, pressed against his damp, solid chest, she continued, “I think, from next month, could that sum be given to me?”

She explained, “Mostly because the food and pastries here seem unpalatable to Xi-jie. She says she drinks only pre-rain Longjing tea and eats only dishes from the small kitchen. My tea is last year’s, and mostly we eat from the main kitchen.”

Wei Qi chuckled softly. “Are you short of money?”

Song Yan thought for a moment, then admitted honestly, “Yes.”