Chapter 6: Fourth Sister Is Absolutely Right

The narrow alley was silent, not a single servant in sight. The high, layered horse-head walls sliced the sky into a narrow strip. Occasionally, a bird with gray feathers and white wings would fly past. Qingyuan squinted up at the sky, lost in thought.

Though she said nothing, Baoxian could tell she was unsettled. In a low voice, she said, “Miss, don’t stoop to their level. A young lady only stays unmarried at her natal home for a few years. Being too forceful now may not serve you well in the long run. Once you’re married off, you’ll see what the world is really like.”

Qingyuan gave a soft “Mm,” and replied, “I’m not angry. You don’t need to comfort me.”

She smiled, but it was the kind of smile expected of a noble young lady—gracious and composed. If she wore every emotion on her face, she’d be no different from those two sisters.

Baoxian sighed. “Before you returned, we served in different parts of the household and didn’t interact much with the other young ladies. From a distance, they seemed like refined, well-bred girls. But now that you’re back, they’ve shown their true colors—clawing and snarling, nothing like proper young ladies. Isn’t it strange? Just like what Third Miss said earlier—what kind of talk was that? Her own mother was just a courtesan. Even if she was raised by the Madam, she’ll never be a legitimate daughter.”

Qingyuan said nothing, but her heart was clear as a mirror. If one were to say who a child resembles, it’s not so much who gave birth to them, but who raised them. Girls can be temperamental—sometimes words slip out in the heat of the moment. After all, people aren’t clay molds; they can’t all be shaped the same. But if someone constantly speaks with malice, it’s a sign of poor upbringing. Qingrong hated her—people said it was because her mother, Concubine Xia was poisoned and died. That hatred had a source. But Qingru also made things difficult for her at every turn, which was truly excessive. It showed that the Xie family was not a household where reason prevailed.

“Honestly, Miss, staying with the Chen family would’ve been far better than returning to the Xie household,” Baoxian said as she supported her, speaking slowly. “I really don’t understand what they were thinking—from the old madam down to the young ladies, none of them even try to hide their disdain. If it was going to be like this, why bother bringing you back just to make everyone miserable?”

But Qingyuan took it all in stride, speaking with detachment, “It was all for the sake of peace in the household. As long as I’m here, they feel at ease.” Seeing that Baoxian was still upset, she patted her hand and added, “I’m fine. Some people live their whole lives curled up in bitterness—so what? We’re only here for a while, and that’s already a blessing. No feast lasts forever. We won’t be under the same roof for life.”

“You’re really not angry?” Baoxian asked. “What they did earlier—practically insulting you to your face…”

Qingyuan smiled. “If I got angry over that, I’d spend my whole life fuming. Listen to me—sometimes, you have to pretend to be deaf and mute. When someone insults you, they’re more anxious than you are. They have to think, they have to exert effort. We just treat it like a performance—no need to get angry. Anger clouds the mind, and once your mind is clouded, you’ve played right into their hands.”

She had her own way of seeing things. So young, yet already so perceptive about the coldness of the world. And perhaps that was for the best—many of life’s hardships come from tormenting oneself. Once that root of suffering is removed, one becomes nearly invincible.

So she quickly gathered up her punishment assignment and headed back to Huifang Garden. She had thought Qingru and Qingrong would have already left, but to her surprise, they were still there—and the old madam had even summoned Qinghe. The three sisters stood on either side while the old madam reclined on the luohan couch, carefully inspecting Qingru’s copied Precepts for Women.

In front of the old madam, no one dared to act out. Each girl stood quietly, eyes fixed on her toes. When Qingyuan entered, she didn’t dare speak either. She waited until the old madam had finished reviewing Qingru’s work before respectfully presenting her own copy of the Admonitions for Women with both hands.

The large, dim room was silent, save for the sound of pages turning. The old madam examined every page, every character with meticulous care. She had always been this exacting—ever since her youth, she had cultivated a habit of taking everything seriously.

Both granddaughters used the “flower hairpin” style of small regular script, but their handwriting was not the same. Qingru’s was smooth and elegant on the surface, but lacked strength. Qingyuan’s, on the other hand, was delicate yet firm, with a structure that echoed Lady Wei’s ideal of “sturdy and full of energy.”

Regardless, both had completed their punishment assignments with care. The quality of the writing was a matter of individual skill, and the old madam wouldn’t press too hard on that. She set both pieces aside and said sternly, “You must all apply yourselves. Your father will be returning soon, and he’ll want to test you.”

At this, Qingru brightened. As the legitimate daughter, she was favored by their father and received more privileges than her sisters. Naturally, she was closer to him.

“Is Father returning on official business, or is he coming back just to see Grandmother? How long will he be staying?”

A trace of worry rose in the old madam’s eyes. Xie Xu’s letter hadn’t made things clear—his words seemed rushed, and the real reason for his return would likely only be known once he arrived. But the elderly often have a keen intuition about such matters. Coming from a family with ties to officialdom, she knew that returning home in the middle of the year, outside of any festival or occasion, was rarely a good sign. Still, nothing was certain yet, and she didn’t want to unsettle the girls, so she said,

“Your father has been stationed at Mount Jishi for years, leading troops in defense. Perhaps the court has granted him leave to return home and visit his family. As for how long he’ll stay, that depends on him. If he has other duties, he may not remain long.”

In any case, his return was good news. Qingru and her sisters were visibly delighted. The old madam glanced at Qingyuan, who stood quietly, her smile just as calm and composed.

The old madam sighed. Perhaps it was because her background had been diminished that she understood the hardships of life. Though she didn’t quite fit in with her sisters, she was thoughtful and deeply filial. Just yesterday, when told not to prepare the medicine anymore, any of the others—Qinghe or Qingru—would have thrown down the task in protest. But Qingyuan, with her stubborn streak, still came today, though she had someone else deliver it instead.

Truth be told, she did want to please—but her way of doing so wasn’t off-putting. A child with no one to rely on, choosing the most difficult person in the household—the old madam herself—as her support… it showed a certain shrewdness.

The old madam coughed lightly. “Qingyuan, you’ve never met your father before. You must be especially careful and proper this time, so you can win his favor.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” Qingyuan replied, lips curved in a soft smile, as if she truly looked forward to it.

In truth, before she knew her true parentage, she had once seen the Grand Commissioner on the street—riding high on horseback, surrounded by soldiers. He had looked so grand, so untouchable. But now that she knew he was her father, that admiration had vanished, replaced slowly by resentment.

She resented him for not investigating further, for letting the woman carrying his child die unjustly. She resented him for not acknowledging her, for letting her live fourteen years without a father or mother.

The old madam, of course, had no idea what Qingyuan was thinking. She simply felt that she had said what needed to be said, and trusted that Qingyuan understood the stakes. After a pause, she turned to Qinghe and said,

“The magistrate’s wife sent word today about a marriage proposal. The Earl of Kaiguo’s family is interested in forming a match with our eldest girl. I haven’t agreed yet. In a few days, the Marchioness of Ji will host a spring banquet—if all goes well during the meeting, the engagement will likely be settled.”

This news surprised everyone. Qingru had assumed the magistrate’s wife favored her, and that the proposal would almost certainly be hers. But at the last moment, the choice had shifted to Qinghe. The old madam offered no explanation—any granddaughter would do, and sometimes it was better to marry off the less desirable ones first, making it easier to arrange better matches for the rest.

Qinghe looked a bit dazed. Whether that was due to her simple nature or just shock was unclear. She wasn’t particularly quick-witted, and when faced with unexpected news, she often wore a blank expression—too stunned even to be anxious. The Marquis’s family likely chose her because she was closer in age to the groom. Though not a legitimate daughter, she was still the eldest of the Xie girls, and that counted for something.

Qinghe, just as Qingru had once mocked, stood stunned for a long moment. When she finally came to her senses, her face flushed red and she fidgeted with her sash, saying,
“Granddaughter will leave everything to Grandmother’s judgment.”

Qingrong curled her lips slightly, sneering inwardly: As if you had a choice. What, you think you could decide for yourself? Even if the Marquis’s son were blind and lame, if Grandmother agreed to the match, you’d still have to marry him—even if the sky fell.

Qingyuan, watching the sisters each lost in their own thoughts, found it all a bit amusing. These three had grown up together, but when temptation appeared, all that sisterly affection became nothing more than empty words.

Take this desirable marriage, for example—weren’t they all eyeing it eagerly? Qingru, confident in her status as the legitimate daughter, had likely believed it was hers for the taking. Who would’ve thought the Marquis’s family would choose Qinghe instead? When the dust settled, Qingru would probably blame it all on that fateful line: “I was born in the year of the Rabbit.” And she’d surely find ways to mock Qinghe for it.

The old madam slowly nodded. “Among your generation, the boys’ marriages have already been arranged. Now it’s the girls’ turn. You’re the first, so you must set a good example. Only then can your younger sisters hope for better matches.

“If the Marquis’s eldest son is decent, the match will be settled. I’ll prepare your dowry myself. Your stepmother will contribute, and your birth mother can add a little something of her own. Once you’re married, you’ll be able to hold your head high in your new household.”

When a girl is promised in marriage, aside from the suitor’s family background and character, the second most important thing is the dowry. Upon hearing that the old madam would personally oversee hers, Qinghe’s pale face flushed even deeper. She lowered her head and said,
“Thank you, Grandmother… Granddaughter will follow Grandmother and Madam’s arrangements.”

Qingyuan stood not far from Qingru and clearly heard the faint “hmph” squeezed through her clenched teeth.

Later, they filed out one by one. At the moon gate just outside the garden, where green bamboo swayed and dappled shadows danced—what should have been a moment to admire the spring scenery—was instead spoiled by Qingru and Qingrong’s mocking tones.

Qingru, twirling her handkerchief with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, said,
“Congratulations to Eldest Sister, for securing such a fine match.”

Qinghe, still dazed from the earlier shock, looked a bit embarrassed and murmured,
“It’s really me who’s reaching above my station…”

“Not necessarily,” Qingrong said with a smirk. “They may look grand on the outside, but everyone knows their second branch has a fool for a son. That kind of thing… well, it’s hard to say. Eldest Sister, you’d better be careful when dealing with the Marquis’s eldest son. Who knows—maybe there’s madness in the blood. He might seem fine now, but one day something could trigger it.”

Only then did Qinghe realize they weren’t congratulating her at all. Her face fell, and she snapped,
“If it’s the second branch, what does that have to do with the Marquis’s main family?”

“That’s a strange thing to say,” Qingru replied with a slow smile. “Aren’t they all descended from the same ancestor?”

Qinghe grew even more upset. None of the maids dared to speak, and with no one to back her up, she turned to Qingyuan and said,
“Fourth Sister, be the judge—does what they’re saying make any sense?”

Qingru and Qingrong also turned to Qingyuan, eyes gleaming.
“Yes, let’s ask Fourth Sister. Eldest Sister should be careful—did we say anything wrong?”

Qingyuan was suddenly pushed into the spotlight, becoming the “sweet bun” both sides were fighting over—but this bun was being roasted over a fire, and no matter how it was turned, it was bound to suffer. She thought for a moment, then smiled and said,
“Second and Third Sisters are just being thoughtful—they care about Eldest Sister. It never hurts to be cautious. But if you ask me, that ‘foolishness’ might not have come from the Marquis’s family. Once sons grow up and marry, who knows? It could’ve come from the second wife’s side.”

That gave Qinghe the confidence to straighten her back. “Fourth Sister is absolutely right.”

Qingrong, seeing that Qingyuan had managed to avoid offending either side, snorted, “You really know how to play sweet.” Then she turned to Qinghe with a smile,
“Well then, let’s wish Eldest Sister a perfect match. At least you’ll get to see him at the spring banquet. Better to spot a fool now than discover it on the wedding night.”

Qingru and Qingrong walked off down the path, laughing and chatting.
“What’s wrong with Eldest Sister? We were just trying to help, and she acts like we’re the bad ones.”

“She’s always been like that—pretty on the outside, but no candle inside the lantern…”

Their voices were loud enough to be heard clearly. Qinghe, still fuming, glared at their backs. Qingyuan didn’t know what to say, so she simply offered,
“Congratulations, Eldest Sister.”

Of course, Qinghe didn’t accept the sentiment. She flung her sleeve and left with her maid, leaving Qingyuan and Baoxian to exchange a glance—smiling with helpless awkwardness.

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