37 Propriety

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Lingbo, for her part, was not especially worried about Han Yueqi. She knew perfectly well what Sister Han was capable of. Han Yueqi possessed the methods of the righteous path, yet was a little less rigid than Qinglan; there was no need for them to fret over her. Lingbo devoted herself entirely to planning Cui Jingyu’s marquis-investiture banquet. Because of this, she relaxed her supervision of Yanyan and Acuo, and failed even to notice that Acuo was behaving somewhat strangely.

Yanyan remained just as she had always been, spending her days eating and playing foolishly, happy as could be. Ever since Shen Biwei had exposed her affair with Wei Yushan, Acuo had been absent-minded and was also afraid Lingbo would see through her. Yanyan dragged her off to play at Tao Lier’s house, where Madam Tao’s pastries were famous throughout the capital. Yet even those delicacies tasted like wax in Acuo’s mouth.

When they returned home, they found an elderly nanny of about sixty sitting in the hall, drinking tea. Seeing them enter, she smiled and said, “The weather is bitterly cold, and yet the Youngest Miss has gone wandering off somewhere, leaving the Old Madam waiting. She has already sent me twice to ask after you.”

The Ye household’s inner quarters had fallen into such disunity that only the people from Old Madam Ye’s rooms still stubbornly ranked everyone as First Miss and Second Miss. Yanyan was fourth, but the formal capital pronunciation sounded unpleasant, so they called her the Youngest Miss instead, making her seem all the more pampered.

Acuo would not be taken in by such flattery. Yanyan asked her, “Shall we go pay our respects to Grandmother together?”

Acuo merely said, “I have been coughing a little these past few days. I am afraid of passing my illness to the Old Madam. Please, Nanny Wu, convey my apologies and ask her to forgive me.”

From her tone and choice of words, Nanny Wu could tell that Acuo had been cast from the very same mold as Lingbo. She understood at once, and replied with a smile, “What are you saying? The Old Madam dotes on Your Ladyship more than anyone. She specifically sent me to tell you to make yourself at home here, as though this were your own family’s house. There is no need to stand on ceremony. You will have plenty of time together later; there is no need to hurry today.”

After a few more polite exchanges, Nanny Wu took Yanyan with her. They were gone for most of the day. When Yanyan finally returned that evening, she had changed her clothes from head to toe and was wearing a small silver-red brocade jacket with a silver fox cape draped over it.

Lingbo was looking over the New Year’s menu. At the sight of her, she laughed. “You’ve come back with another haul? Let me see. This is genuine old brocade from Suzhou, presented to the court years ago. Sister Han has always said she wanted to find a piece so she could copy the pattern. What a coincidence that the old lady gave it to you.”

Although Yanyan had gained a great deal, Lingbo felt no particular gratitude toward Old Madam Ye. The New Year was approaching, and the Wutong Residence was abundantly supplied. In the outer gatehouse, the steward, Madam Yang, and Steward Yang were leading a group of servants and capable older maids in counting the New Year goods sent from the estates.

The capital lay in the north, and whenever heavy snow fell, the world outside became a natural ice cellar. Venison, mutton, whole sides of beef, and entire hogs could all be stored in the snowdrifts outside the little storerooms. They were counted alongside crates of vegetables, fruit, assorted grains, and seasonal medicinal herbs, making the place look like a bustling market fair.

In the kitchen, they worked through the night, preparing pastries, frying every kind of dumpling and New Year snack. The fragrance of shortening, the sweet aroma of brown sugar, the scent of honey dates and honey, and the warm fragrance of pastries fresh from the steamer all mingled together. Against the pitch-black night beyond the heavy snow, it was the taste and smell of the New Year preserved in memory.

Madam Yang was an excellent household manager. Even while counting the provisions, she still found time to check on the kitchen. When she saw that lotus pastries had just been fried, she immediately ordered a plate sent to the warm room.

The older maid knew how to speak prettily as well. “Second Miss, Madam Yang says these are the first lotus pastries made this year. She asks you to taste them and see whether the kitchen has lost its touch, or whether they still taste as they did when Madam was here.”

Lingbo had been reading the account books, but upon hearing this, she had no choice but to try one. Her eyes curved into a smile. “It is the same flavor. Acuo, come and taste one too.”

No wonder Madam Yang had sent them over specially. Even in Yangzhou, Acuo had rarely seen pastries so exquisite. Their exteriors were a brilliant red, their centers yellow like stamens, and each one had been fried in the shape of a lotus, layer upon delicate layer. Their sweetness rose to meet her the instant they were set before her. They were still hot from the pan; the taste itself was secondary. It was the charm of them that was rare.

“Your Ladyship may not know this, but after the Narcissus Feast, every noblewoman in the capital had her own kitchen learn to make our lotus pastries. Not one of them ever managed to reproduce this flavor…” the older maid added, eager to entertain Acuo.

Acuo instinctively looked toward Lingbo. Lingbo merely smiled at her with eyes curved gently upward.

“Go on and eat. They are fried in vegetable oil, and there are lotus seeds in them too. They will not make you fat,” she said.

Lingbo had misunderstood. She thought Acuo was worried about gaining weight, no doubt because Tao Lier had set a bad example, constantly shouting about having a slender waist and refusing fried pastries for being too greasy.

In truth, Acuo had been beautiful since childhood and had never cared about such things. She had simply keenly sensed the melancholy that always seemed to overtake Lingbo whenever she prepared for the New Year.

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Otherwise, Lingbo would not have rewarded the older maid so generously. She set down the lotus pastry and said, “You have all worked hard these past few days, staying up so late every night in this freezing weather. Tell Madam Yang to have the kitchen prepare two more mutton hotpots. Eat them tonight to drive away the cold. Give everyone an extra month’s wages, and add another hundred coins for those working the night shift. Take it from my private account.”

The older maid naturally thanked her profusely. “Many thanks, Second Miss. You truly have the heart of a bodhisattva…”

As she bowed, Little Willow had already grabbed a handful of money and held it out to her with a smile. “Auntie, take this and give it to the children as New Year’s gift money.”

The older maid thanked her without end, then went outside and passed the words on to Madam Yang. The courtyard was naturally filled with rejoicing. Maidservants and older women alike came to offer their thanks. Amid all the liveliness, Lingbo only smiled faintly, and the smile never reached her eyes.

Anyone truly perceptive would never have mistaken Lingbo’s present happiness for genuine joy. But Nanny Wu, who had escorted Yanyan back on Old Madam Ye’s behalf, clearly did not understand Lingbo. Taking this for an excellent opportunity, she came forward with a smile.

“Second Miss’s skill at managing the household is truly beyond reproach. You are even more thorough than Madam was in her day. An old woman like me can only admire you. As luck would have it, the Old Ancestress was speaking of these lotus pastries just two days ago. She said that only Madam had ever made them properly, and that no matter how many others she had tasted afterward, none had possessed the same flavor. It would be wonderful if you had the kitchen fry some more for me to take to the Old Ancestress. It would be a fine expression of filial devotion from you, would it not…”

Lingbo smiled faintly as well. “That would certainly be nice. Unfortunately, I only tried making them this year. I gathered a few ingredients and fried this single plate, which has already been eaten, so it would be disrespectful to send any to the Old Madam now. To make more, I would first have to purchase more lotus seeds and lotus roots. Once a fresh batch is ready in a few days, I will personally deliver it to her. Fortunately, lotus pastries are not the only tea cakes fried today. Little Willow, have the kitchen pack two boxes of peach-blossom pastries and salted-yolk pastries for Nanny Wu to take home.”

When masters crossed swords, they needed only touch the point before withdrawing. Old Madam Ye was bedridden and naturally had no real craving for fried tea pastries. Her claim that she missed the lotus pastries Madam Ye had once made best was plainly an attempt to extend an olive branch to Lingbo.

Yet Lingbo deliberately refused to accept it, and answered with perfect subtlety.

Peach-blossom pastries and salted-yolk pastries were not lotus pastries, and they both knew it. Some things in this world simply could not be replaced. Even if, after the years had passed, one regretted the past and wished to make amends, what meaning could it still have?

Lingbo had said that after Madam Ye’s death, the women of Wutong Residence had endured a difficult period. As the “Old Ancestress” of the Ye family and the true mistress of its inner household, how could Old Madam Ye be considered truly innocent in all this?

Lingbo had said nothing at all, and yet it seemed she had said everything. She was clearly smiling, yet the sorrow in her eyes was like the green hue of the tea in her cup—faintly present, faintly absent.

Standing beside her, Acuo hated that she was several years too young. If only she had entered the capital earlier, she could have kept Lingbo company back then.

For this reason, she remained unhappy throughout the evening. Lingbo assumed she was missing Qinglan, who had not yet returned. Before going to bed, Lingbo came to see her. Finding her sitting lost in thought, she smiled and said, “Do not wait any longer. Qinglan and Sister Han have endless things to talk about. They will not be back before the second watch.”

Acuo merely murmured a couple of replies. Hearing her soft grunts, Lingbo assumed she had caught a chill and was feeling unwell. She reached out to touch Acuo’s forehead.

“I hope you have not taken cold. That pomelo may be delicious, but it tends to bring on the cold.”

She was referring to the several large baskets of fruit Sister Han had sent. They were all varieties unavailable in the capital. The Ye family did possess estates, but they had belonged to Madam Ye as part of her dowry. Since the two daughters now managed the household, they had sold the estates far from the capital and retained only a few on the outskirts, which were managed by male servants.

Sister Han had no such concerns. The estates included in her dowry all lay far beyond the capital region, yet every year, without fail, they sent New Year provisions to the city. The fruit was exceptional as well: one kind of tribute orange and two kinds of pomelo. One had thin skin and an extraordinarily sweet flesh; the other was round and meant for smoking rooms, with a fragrance more powerful than citron.

Acuo had tasted them for the first time and found them novel, so she had eaten rather more than usual.

Lingbo was so attentive, so naturally caring toward others, that Acuo felt an even deeper ache and tightness in her chest. Unable to help Lingbo and concealing something from her besides, she could not stop herself from resting her cheek against Lingbo’s hand.

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Although Acuo was young, she rarely behaved so dependently. Lingbo was perceptive and immediately noticed. She sat down beside her, slipped an arm around her shoulders, and asked with a smile, “What is it? Are you really feeling unwell?”

Acuo shook her head and buried it against Lingbo’s breast.

In Yang Hua’s eyes, this was the perfect moment for a confession. She understood Lingbo and knew that if someone had concealed something from her, it was best to confess of their own accord. If Lingbo caught them herself, however, the consequences would be earth-shaking.

Thus she began signaling urgently to Acuo with her eyes.

But Acuo still did not mention Wei Yushan. She merely kept her head buried against Lingbo and asked in a muffled voice, “Second Sister, what does it feel like to have a mother?”

She too had lost her parents in childhood and had grown up under the care of her old grandfather. Lingbo could not help but feel a surge of tenderness. She stroked Acuo’s hair, her gaze turning wistful.

What did it feel like to have a mother? She had almost forgotten herself.

Perhaps it meant that no matter where you went or how far away you traveled, you always knew she would be waiting at home. No matter how late it was or how cold the night, as long as she was there, the house would contain a warm, glowing fire and a steaming bowl of soup. In winter, there would be warm quilts; in summer, chilled watermelons waiting to be eaten. She knew where everything in the house was kept, and whatever you asked, she knew how to answer.

Anyone could do those things. A household manager could do them. An older sister could do them. Yet when she was there, everything was different. Even the scent of the house was different.

It was like falling ill and feeling her hand against your forehead as she coaxed you to drink a medicinal soup that tasted terrible. You would drift into sleep, dizzy and hazy, yet utterly at peace, because you knew that when you awoke, she would be there.

She would always be there.

Lingbo withdrew her gaze and stroked Acuo’s head.

“Perhaps it feels like dozing beside a warming brazier—softly heated, half asleep and half awake, as though you had returned to childhood…” She knew that no matter how beautifully she described it, it would still be nothing more than a reflection of flowers in a mirror or the moon in water. So although Acuo gazed at her with eyes full of expectation, Lingbo did not wish to say more, afraid of adding to the girl’s regret. Instead, she smiled and comforted her.

“But it is all right. The four of us together make a family too. Especially Qinglan—these past two years, she has increasingly taken on the bearing of an elder sister who is as good as a mother. Do not think that because she has gone to the Shen residence, she will not scold us. If we fail to go to bed on time tonight and she hears of it, she will lecture us all over again.”

Acuo obediently lay down. She allowed Lingbo to tuck the blankets around her, then went to check on Yanyan, who was sleeping outside. Lingbo caught her hiding a wood-carving knife beneath the bedding, with wood shavings scattered all over the floor. She gave Yanyan’s senior maid a few further instructions about household matters, and only then returned to her own room to sleep.

Yang Hua held herself back again and again, finally waiting until everyone had dispersed before quietly asking Acuo, “Why did you not confess to Second Miss? The Marquis’s investiture banquet is the day after tomorrow. When Miss Shen discovers that Second Miss still knows nothing, she will certainly tell her.”

“Do not worry. I know what I am doing,” Acuo replied indifferently.

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