Chapter 6

Now that she and Wei Qi had consummated their marriage, Song Yan understood that Qiu Yue was right. She would become pregnant, have children, and likely devote much of her energy to them for the rest of her life, while Xi would always remain the eldest sister to her children.

But Xi was already twelve years old and did not live by her side. As a stepmother, what right did she have to discipline her?

Chunhong fretted, “No wonder they say it’s hard being a stepmother. If it were your own daughter, you could punish her if she misbehaved.”

The three of them fell silent.

That evening, Wei Qi returned home early for dinner. Song Yan was preoccupied with thoughts of Xi, but knowing he preferred to dine in silence, she said nothing. It wasn’t until night, after they had both bathed and sat together in their room, that she finally spoke. “Today, I spoke to Xi about her behavior.”

Chunhong had warned her that Wei Xi might complain to Wei Qi, very likely adding fuel to the fire with tears and accusations. A father’s pity for his motherless daughter might easily turn into resentment toward her stepmother. So Song Yan thought it best to broach the matter herself.

Wei Qi looked up. “Hmm?”

Song Yan recounted what had happened in the garden in detail, especially repeating what Xi had said, fearing he might favor his daughter.

Wei Qi seemed surprised and asked, “Did she really say that?”

Song Yan, worried he wouldn’t believe her, answered seriously, “Yes, I heard it clearly. Perhaps even Madam Hua, who was nearby with Second Aunt, heard it too. You can ask her if you’d like. I just think all the boys in Second Uncle’s house are also his children, born of concubines as they are. For Xi to speak that way will surely displease Second Uncle. And in the future, when you and I are old and Xi is married, she’ll still need her mother’s brothers to protect her. This behavior isn’t good for her.”

Wei Qi said, “You’re right. Her mother left early, and I’ve been busy and neglected her upbringing. From now on, you should discipline her as you see fit. If she won’t accept your authority, tell me.”

With Wei Qi’s support, Song Yan felt reassured and replied softly, “Yes.”

The room fell quiet.

Wei Qi then asked, “Are you still in pain?”

He meant her condition; Song Yan tensed, feeling even more awkward as she sat beside him, blushing. “A little… still.”

If he intended to come to her again, she felt she couldn’t bear it; the pain from before had not yet faded.

His voice was gentle, tinged with concern. “Then rest well. Get some sleep. I’ll read for a while before I come to bed.”

Song Yan nodded.

He left for the adjoining room, while Song Yan lay down alone.

Perhaps because she was finally at ease, she slept better than the night before and soon drifted off. When she woke, the sky was already growing light.

After breakfast, Concubine Jiang came to pay her respects and informed her that Xi was ill—she had returned yesterday in a temper, refused dinner, and this morning had complained of a headache.

Song Yan asked, “Did you summon the doctor?”

Concubine Jiang replied, “She’s so stubborn, refusing to see a doctor. I couldn’t force her. This morning she only had a little soup. If she truly makes herself sick, I won’t know how to explain it to her father.” Her eyes reddened as she dabbed at them with a handkerchief.

Song Yan wondered if Xi’s illness was related to her. Had she driven the girl to this state?

After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Take me to see her.”

Since she was now the stepmother, she had to fulfill her role, however awkward or reluctant she felt. At the very least, when her daughter was ill, she ought to visit; otherwise, she would give others cause to criticize.

She left her courtyard with Concubine Jiang, heading for Xi’s rooms.

After the original Madame Wei passed, Xi had been raised by Concubine Jiang. At first, she had lived in the rooms where she stayed now, but after a few years, she moved to a smaller courtyard next door, as the main rooms were reserved for Wei Qi’s future wife.

The new courtyard wasn’t far—just next to Song Yan’s own, both behind Wei Qi’s main residence.

Upon entering Xi’s room, she found the young lady lying in bed, scolding her maids.

“I said I won’t eat, and if anyone tries to make me, I’ll have them sold!”

A twelve-year-old girl threatening to sell her servants sounded rather harsh.

When Song Yan entered, Xi glanced at her and said crossly, “Why are you here?”

Song Yan replied calmly, “I heard you weren’t well and came to see you.”

Xi sneered, “A weasel wishing a chicken Happy New Year—did you come to see if I was dead yet? You must have slandered me to my father. If my mother were still alive, you’d have no place in this house!” Tears welled up. “You’re not even fit to carry my mother’s shoes!”

Song Yan fell silent.

If the late Miss Gu had lived, she certainly wouldn’t have married into this family or had anything to do with Wei Qi.

She ignored Wei Xi’s words and asked, “Is it a headache? Did you catch a chill? Do you have a fever?”

“None of your business!” Xi retorted.

Song Yan tried again, “Should I call the doctor?”

“No, no, no! Stop pretending. Leave!” Xi shouted.

It was clear that she could not inquire further into the illness; judging by Xi’s vigor, she didn’t seem seriously ill anyway.

Song Yan said, “If you don’t want a doctor, then rest and eat well. If you feel worse, tell someone. Since you don’t want me to stay, I’ll take my leave.”

Just as she turned to go, Xi sat up in bed. “Did you slander me to my father?”

Song Yan looked at her, realizing this was the second time Xi had asked that question.

Clearly, it mattered deeply to her. In this, they were alike: both feared the other might complain to Wei Qi and put them at a disadvantage.

But for Song Yan, it was because she was a stepmother and thus assumed to be harsh to her stepdaughter. For Xi, wasn’t she her father’s only daughter? Wei Qi had loved his late wife and remained unmarried for years; Xi was their only child. How could he be swayed against her by an outsider’s words?

Song Yan didn’t understand. She had thought Xi was overbearing because she could act with impunity.

She answered honestly, “I didn’t slander you. I did mention what happened. Your father told me to look after you and discipline you as needed.”

Xi hurled a pillow from the bed, shouting angrily, “Stepmothers are all pillow talkers!”

Song Yan was taken aback again; such words were startling from a twelve-year-old girl.

“Pillow talk” was not a phrase that should come from an unmarried girl’s lips. Where had she even heard it? Song Yan glanced at Concubine Jiang, who gently urged, “Madam heard you were ill and made a special visit. Don’t be so willful.”

Her tone was soft, but Xi paid no heed. She turned to Song Yan and declared, “You can’t control me. I’m my father’s legitimate eldest daughter; you’re just a stepmother. What right do you have over me?”

Song Yan ignored her and said to Concubine Jiang, “Take good care of the young lady,” then left the courtyard.

Walking down the corridor, Song Yan felt stifled. Wei Qi had told her to discipline the girl, but how? She had neither the authority nor the experience; only days ago, her own mother had still been scolding her!

Never mind. Let it be. Xi was twelve; within a year or two, they’d arrange a marriage, and a few years after that, she’d be gone. They’d only cross paths for these few years.

The day was bright and clear outside. Song Yan sat idly on a stone bench in the courtyard, lost in thought.

In the distance, Second Madam Cheng was leaving the main house, crossing the long gallery. Seeing Song Yan on the stone bench below, she remarked to the mama beside her, “This new madam really is a beauty. Just sitting there, she looks like a painting.”

Mama Hua smiled. “Wasn’t Madam yourself a beauty? Who didn’t praise you in your youth?”

Second Madam knew Mama Hua was flattering her. She had her own charms, but she couldn’t compare to her new niece-in-law—an oval face, radiant features, a delicate beauty with a gentle, scholarly air. Not only men, but even she, as a woman, found it hard to look away.

Suddenly, she remembered something. “You said yesterday you saw her scolding Xi over the swing?”

“Yes, but you know Xi’s temperament—she wouldn’t listen. I hear she’s ill today as well.”

Second Madam made no reply. Descending the gallery, she passed by the stone table and said casually, “Madam, isn’t it dull sitting out here? The kitchens in the west wing are making wedding cakes today, and a troupe has arrived to perform. Everyone’s over there joining the festivities. Why don’t you come?”

“Second Aunt,” Song Yan hurriedly stood, uncertain how to respond. Because of Fifth Master, she’d been avoiding that branch of the family, avoiding the west wing for fear of trouble, and hadn’t thought to join the celebrations.

She hadn’t expected Second Madam to speak so naturally.

Seeing her hesitate, Second Madam continued, “Don’t feel awkward. You may not be familiar with everyone now, but once you meet them, you will be. Come, I’m heading over myself. Third Madam invited me to help arrange the seating. Why not join me?”

Second Madam’s openness and warmth reassured Song Yan, making her feel that she was simply the proper, respectable eldest madam, the eldest sister-in-law to Wei Xiu. Since there was a wedding in the family, it was only right for her to attend.

If she kept refusing, it would only seem as though she had something to hide, so she agreed to accompany Second Madam.

Arriving at the west wing was unlike any previous visit—red lanterns and silk banners hung everywhere, the flower beds had been freshly tended, the doors and windows newly painted, and the maids and servants bustled about, busy with preparations for the coming wedding. It was, after all, a princess’s wedding, so nothing could be left to chance.

Song Yan went with Second Madam to the main hall, where family matters, guests, and banquets were usually handled. Madam Feng, her eldest daughter-in-law, and several other ladies were already present.

Madam Feng looked surprised to see her, but quickly smoothed her features and invited them to sit, having the mama serve Song Yan some cakes, then began discussing the seating arrangements with Second Madam.

Arranging the seating for a banquet was a delicate task for the hostess. Rank, age, status, and past quarrels all had to be considered. One misstep could offend a guest or breach etiquette, bringing disgrace to the family.

In a household as grand as the Duke’s, with its countless connections and complicated relationships, everything depended on one’s memory and tact.

Song Yan heard Second Madam say, “Third Madam Zhou may not have a title, but she and Madam Sun are sisters-in-law. As the elder, she shouldn’t be seated below Madam Sun. Let’s keep them equal.”

Madam Feng replied, “I’d forgotten that—thank you for reminding me. Should we switch Second Madam Zhou with Madam Zhao?”

Second Madam considered, “Let’s put Madam Zhao at that table instead. Her son is engaged to a daughter of the Tang family, who will be at that table. As future in-laws, it’s better for them to sit together and avoid any awkwardness.”

Madam Feng readily agreed.

Just then, a steward came over and said to Madam Feng, “Madam, the kitchen’s account book is here for your review.”

Madam Feng, already overwhelmed by these matters, looked at Second Madam. “Would you mind checking this for me?”

Second Madam glanced at her seating chart, then at the account book, and finally turned to Song Yan. “Madam, are you literate?”