Chapter 24: The Young Master is Handsome

Madam Zhou, the messenger, smiled as she looked at Bai Huan. “Tea ceremony? Of course, that’s proper. Please inform Father-in-law that my husband and I will change our clothes and go together.” Madam Zhou stood there beaming, expectantly waiting for a reward. This future daughter-in-law of the eldest son had always been generous—each visit to the marquis’s house had meant at least a tael of silver for her. Now that she was but the concubine-born young lady, she could never match the status of the principal wife, surely she would need to curry even more favor? After all, she oversaw the household affairs of the marquis’s estate.

But Bai Huan pretended not to notice, turning away to order Chenxiang and Doukou to help her dress and do her hair. She also instructed them to dress up beautifully, so they would bring honor to the marquis’s house. Madam Zhou’s face darkened, and she stomped off, muttering nasty things about merchants stinking of copper coins, stingy and ignorant. “Hmph, still dreaming of a reward? She can dream on!” Chenxiang spat forcefully in her direction. Bai Huan said calmly, “No need to pay her any mind. In the future, we’ll see plenty more filth and vexing people in this household. We’ll deal with them one by one.”

On this very day in her previous life, she had foolishly tried to please the Marquis of Ruyang and Lady Gu, handing over her entire dowry, but in return received only humiliation, plunder, and bloodshed.

Once she was ready, she stepped outside to see Gu Yuanhuai standing forlornly in the middle of their small courtyard, gazing blankly up at the tree branches. “What are you looking at?” she called. He turned around at the sound. The girl stood poised, the sunlight shimmering off the seven-colored mother-of-pearl inlay on her forehead, dazzling and bright. She wore a deep indigo, silver-cloud patterned sash dress, trimmed with a row of pale millet pearls, and a jade-colored brocade jacket embroidered with peonies. In her hand was a brilliant fan made from male pheasant tail feathers, which she tapped lightly against her chin. Her makeup was subtle and clear, her brows and eyes elegant, and her lips curved in a delicate smile—charming and sweet.

Though her appearance was not ostentatious, those with an eye for such things would know that her fabrics and jewelry were the finest money could buy, just as he remembered her from before—when she was his sister-in-law. Back then, Bai Huan used to call him “little fatty” but would still kindly bring him snacks. She never knew those treats kept him from hunger for days; he treasured them dearly. To him, Bai Huan was a beam of light in a bleak life. And now, unbelievably, this dazzling light had become his wife.

But what about him? Nothing but a clump of cow dung. Gu Yuanhuai felt deeply ashamed.

Bai Huan approached and patted his shoulder. “What are you daydreaming about?” His eyes stung, and he ducked his head, tugging at his dusty robe. “Tomorrow I’ll go get myself a new robe,” he muttered. Bai Huan glanced at his worn clothes and understood.

“Chenxiang, bring out that set of cobalt-blue brocade court robes in the style of Lord Lingyang, the one we had made for the young master. And don’t forget the new silk headband and the Hetian jade belt.” Gu Yuanhuai looked up in delight. “For me? The Lord Lingyang style? Is that this year’s tribute brocade from Shu?” Bai Huan smiled. “You know your stuff. Yes, it’s the new tribute pattern. My husband should wear only the finest and most expensive.”

She glanced at his feet. “The shoes might not fit, though. Chenxiang, make him a few new pairs. Your needlework is excellent.” Chenxiang chirped her agreement, while Doukou cheerfully dashed inside to get the clothing.

Only then did Gu Yuanhuai realize that the robes had originally been made for his older brother, and his spirits dipped. But soon he was beaming again—it didn’t matter how many clothes Bai Huan had made for his brother; from now on, they would all be his. With a wide grin, he bowed to Bai Huan. “Thank you, my lady.” Bai Huan knocked him on the forehead with her knuckles. “No need to be so formal with me. Just call me Sister Huan, as you always did.” Gu Yuanhuai clutched his sore forehead, his face falling. So she really thought it was all an act?

Chenxiang called out happily, beckoning him. “Young master, come quickly! Let me help you change.” “Oh, it’s all right, I can do it myself. I wouldn’t dare trouble Sister Chenxiang.” Shaking his head, Gu Yuanhuai forced himself to be cheerful and followed Chenxiang inside.

Bai Huan smiled and shook her head—he was such a child.

A quarter of an hour later, Chenxiang’s delighted voice rang out, “Mistress, come look! Our young master looks wonderful!” Gu Yuanhuai blushed scarlet at her words, stood up ramrod straight, and looked eagerly at Bai Huan—like a puppy seeking its master’s approval.

Bai Huan hid her smile behind her fan, her eyes shining. Clothes do make the man, after all. Usually so slovenly, Gu Yuanhuai now looked every inch a young nobleman in his splendid brocade robe and jade-embellished belt—elegant and dignified.

She looked him up and down. “Very nice, it fits perfectly. Have you lost weight?” Gu Yuanhuai straightened. “You only noticed now? You’re not allowed to call me ‘little fatty’ anymore. Look!” He proudly lifted his foot. “These are new boots my mother made for me, using Shu brocade with gold trim. They match the robe perfectly, don’t they?”

Bai Huan looked at the shiny new boots. His mother had been dead for many years—he must have never worn them, cherishing them all this time. Truly, a pitiful child. Bai Huan felt a wave of gentle affection and nodded at him with a warm smile. “They do match. Let’s go.”

Gu Yuanhuai walked beside her, beaming. Chenxiang and Doukou, dressed in bright red and green silk skirts, their hair adorned with millet pearl flowers, looked finer than most young mistresses. The two lively maids each carried a lacquered ebony box inlaid with mother-of-pearl, following closely behind Bai Huan and Gu Yuanhuai. The four of them strolled along, chatting and laughing, a striking sight.

The impoverished servants of the Marquis of Ruyang’s household stared at them with envy, as if they were each a walking gold ingot. “Is that girl really wearing silk? She looks as grand as a young lady from our own house.”

A gardener tending the flowerbeds looked up curiously and gaped in shock. “That pattern on Fourth Young Master Gu’s robe—I saw the heir of Prince An wearing it recently. They say it’s this year’s newest tribute brocade from Shu!” His words set off a chorus of astonished exclamations, startling a flock of birds into the sky.

“Really? Worn by the heir of Prince An?”
“Yes! Just half a month ago, I saw the prince’s heir out with several noble youths, and he was wearing this exact pattern, though his had royal gold thread. The design is identical.”
“Then it must be incredibly expensive.”
The worldly gardener responded, “It’s not just expensive—you can’t buy it even if you have the money. This kind of tribute-patterned Shu brocade, Cuilu Pavilion on East Main Street only gets two or three bolts, enough for just a few garments.”
Someone scoffed, “How would you know? Have you ever bought any?”
“Do you look down on me? My family supplies flowers to all the top shops—Ruibao Pavilion, Jinlou Workshop, Cuilu Pavilion. If you haven’t heard about these things, you’ve wasted your years in Chang’an.”

The group chattered away like country bumpkins who’d never seen such splendor. Chenxiang and Doukou held their heads high, proud as peacocks, showing off behind their mistress.

Bai Huan had dressed so grandly on purpose. She knew the Marquis of Ruyang and Lady Gu wanted to summon them for the tea ceremony only to put her in her place and force her to hand over her dowry. One must never lose face at the start—if you’re cowed at the outset, it’s hard to ever gain the upper hand again.

She knew all too well the present state of the Marquis of Ruyang’s household.

Most noble titles in Tiansheng were not for life. They could be inherited, but each generation would be downgraded. Even the sons of princes inherited only as heirs of a lesser rank. Without new merit, by the third generation the title would be lost.

The Gu clan of the former dynasty had once been among the most distinguished, even providing an imperial consort. When the founding emperor of Tiansheng seized power, the Gu ancestors opened the city gates for him and for three generations prospered greatly. Now it was the fifth generation. But from the fourth Marquis onward, every peer had been a useless wastrel—no achievements, no merit, nothing but gluttony and idleness. The current Marquis had barely managed to keep the title, but if there was no new merit, in Gu Yuanzhou’s generation it would be downgraded or even lost.

This Marquis of Ruyang, obsessed with appearances, insisted on the finest clothes, food, and gifts, maintaining the airs of an old aristocrat. But without money, this facade could not be maintained. That was why the Marquis and Lady Gu were so anxious.

On this day in her past life, she had lost Doukou. That enmity, today, she would begin to avenge.