Chapter 57: A Smile as Gentle as Speech

Today, the courtyard was unusually quiet. Chuxiu understood that everyone had gone to pay their respects to the new mistress. She knew she ought to go as well, but since she had not been summoned, it was likely Yun Ci’s intention. With these thoughts, she could only bide her time indoors, practicing her calligraphy. After all, the Pure Heart Studio no longer required her attendance for now.

She wrote out two practice sheets, using up all the ink in the inkstone. If one didn’t look closely now, even Chuxiu herself could hardly distinguish whether these were Yun Ci’s characters or her own.

The writing grew ever more alike, yet her heart felt ever more distant. Perhaps, had there never been this entanglement, she could still serve him as calmly as Danxin and the others did, standing quietly behind him as a maid.

But now, the consequences of this affection—and of that child—were almost too much to bear, especially now that he was married.

Chuxiu laid down her brush, a wry and lonely smile curling her lips. Lost in thought, she was startled by Danxin’s voice just outside the door: “You knew all along, didn’t you? You and Zhuying both knew, and kept it from me?” There was accusation in her tone, tinged with tears.

Chuxiu opened the door and saw Danxin standing at the courtyard gate, scolding someone—Shallow Melody. These two had always been as close as sisters; how had discord arisen between them?

Chuxiu hurried out, about to speak and mediate, but Shallow Melody had already turned to look at her, her gaze calm, laced with an unreadable pity.

Chuxiu could not discern the meaning behind that look. At that moment, Danxin fell silent, her eyes red as she looked over. “Chuxiu…”

“What’s the matter?” Chuxiu managed a smile. “What are you two fussing about, standing at the door in broad daylight?”

Danxin turned away, unwilling to speak. Shallow Melody said at the right moment, “The mistress wishes to see you.”

“To see me?” The words were out before Chuxiu could stop them. It was only natural for a mistress to summon her servants, especially given what had once happened between herself and Yun Ci…

Chuxiu forced a smile. “Forgive me, I spoke out of turn. I thought the mistress would not wish to see me… Let me fix my hair.” With that, she hurried back inside to tidy herself. After all, she was going to meet Yun Ci’s legitimate wife, and did not wish to appear too unkempt.

A short while later, Chuxiu reemerged in fresh attire—the very garments the household had specially made for the servants for Yun Ci’s wedding. They were modest, yet festive. Her expression was serene and composed, betraying neither joy nor sorrow, but to Danxin, she seemed heartbreakingly fragile.

“Chuxiu, perhaps I should go and speak to the master…” Danxin tried to dissuade her from meeting Xia Yanran.

“The mistress is summoning a servant from the garden; why trouble the master over it?” Since ancient times, men handled affairs outside, women within; this was a matter of the inner quarters, and Yun Ci should not easily interfere. With these thoughts, Chuxiu simply followed Shallow Melody and Danxin toward the main hall, saying with a light laugh, “Come, let’s not keep the mistress waiting.”

Danxin hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but the words stuck in her throat. Shallow Melody, leading the way, remained silent.

When the three arrived at the main hall, Shallow Melody announced, “Mistress, Chuxiu has arrived.”

“Come in,” a soft, gentle voice sounded, sweet and melodious.

Chuxiu lowered her gaze and entered without so much as a sideways glance. She curtsied and said, “Chuxiu apologizes for being late. I beg the mistress’s forgiveness.” Her tone was neither servile nor arrogant, respectful and proper.

Her apology hung in the air for a long moment without reply. At length, Xia Yanran’s gentle laughter broke the silence: “Come closer, and lift your head.”

With those words, Chuxiu realized that her matter with Yun Ci had not escaped the new mistress’s notice. Yet she could not disobey, and so she stepped forward, slowly raising her eyes to meet Xia Yanran’s.

In the instant their gazes met, both women saw unmistakable shock in each other’s eyes—an utter incredulity.

Xia Yanran rose from her seat, unconsciously taking a step closer, as if to see Chuxiu more clearly. The tear-shaped mole at the corner of her eye gave her a precarious beauty, while her exquisite makeup made her seem all the more regal. She had always believed her own beauty was unparalleled, and it was with that confidence she had dared wait so long for Yun Ci, certain he would not remain unmoved. Yet she had not expected that this maid before her would outshine her by threefold, even without a touch of powder.

That face was simply too similar! Xia Yanran stared at Chuxiu for a long time before finally allowing her beautiful eyes to soften and a smile to bloom—one that brimmed with reassurance.

Yet Chuxiu remained in shock, her brows furrowing, face drained of color, her throat so parched it felt scorched, words struggling to emerge. Her heart was pierced without warning.

The satisfaction in the new mistress’s smile was almost blinding, hinting at a deeper truth—a look that plainly said: you are but a substitute.

How ironic—just last night, after a chance encounter with that violet-robed young man, Chuxiu had scoffed at his frivolity, thinking only that no one in this world had ever looked at her as Yun Ci did the first time they met, so calm and dignified.

Yet she failed to realize that she too could not escape the curse of this face.

Others desired her for her beauty; but what was it that Yun Ci saw in her…?

No wonder, despite her being “tainted,” he had not minded—he had even shown her favor.

So that was the truth…

Every act of kindness—playing the qin for her at night, personally sending her to the East Garden, tending her throat, teaching her to write—how much of it was for the sake of this resemblance?

“Flowers may look alike, and so may people. Chuxiu, you mustn’t let happiness turn to sorrow.” The second concubine’s words suddenly became so clear and piercingly painful.

Now she understood, deeply, the meaning behind them. Happiness turns to sorrow… She had been lost in the game, utterly unaware.

She should have known better than to harbor such delusions, to think he could truly love her.

Unconsciously, Chuxiu laid her hand over her lower abdomen. That child… Even if she had not been poisoned by passion, would he have let her bear it?

No doubt, he was relieved now—at least the poison had not touched his wife.

A burning heat welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She must not cry! She must not! Chuxiu steeled herself, swallowing the bitter pain that cut like a knife, forcing back the tears.

She needed to hear him explain—no matter what she had seen or heard, she would only believe it from his own lips.

But what should she say now, what should she do? Her mind was growing blank. She knew it was deeply disrespectful to stare so at the mistress, but she could not look away from Xia Yanran.

The two women, so strikingly alike, stood face to face, gazes locked as if in silent duel. One’s makeup was flawless, her smile radiant; the other’s face was ashen, her spirit lost.

At last, Xia Yanran reached out a hand as though to steady her, and smiled gently. “Your name is lovely. Did the marquis choose it for you?”

Chuxiu could not speak, afraid that any sound would betray her heartbreak. She could only nod.

Xia Yanran sighed with a smile, “It is a fine name. ‘Clouds drift from the peaks without a care’—the marquis must have been warning himself not to be swayed by beauty.” Ignoring Chuxiu’s pallor, she praised, “You are truly beautiful! Only someone like the marquis could remain unmoved, I suppose.”

Chuxiu could only lower her eyes, forcing a smile uglier than any tears.

Xia Yanran smiled again. “With your beauty, I cannot allow the marquis to treat you poorly. If he does not take you into his chambers, it would be a waste to let another have you. Now, as a newlywed, I cannot yet decide such matters for him, but in two years, I shall speak to the marquis and ask him to bring you in.”

“Mistress…” Chuxiu’s voice was hoarse. She did not know how to respond.

“Mistress, if you say such things, I must cry injustice for the marquis!” Just then, a maid behind Xia Yanran broke the awkwardness with a laugh. “If you wish to bring this Chuxiu into the household, the marquis must agree as well. I think, with the marquis’s devotion, he may not be willing.”

“You impudent girl! And how would you know?” Xia Yanran feigned annoyance, her tone light and playful.

“How could I not know? The marquis was betrothed to you from childhood. If that’s not enough, he even renamed the garden ‘Pine of Insight’ for you—surely that’s a sign of his feelings?”

Having said this, the maid turned to introduce herself to Shallow Melody, Danxin, and Chuxiu. “Greetings, sisters. I’m Zhuoyan, the mistress’s maid from her family home.” With that, she fell silent.

Danxin, noticing Zhuoyan’s words trailing off, opened her mouth to ask what “Pine of Insight” had to do with Xia Yanran, but before she could speak, Shallow Melody gave her a warning glance.

“All right, all right, mind the occasion,” Xia Yanran scolded Zhuoyan with a smile. “Don’t embarrass me before the others. You should learn from the marquis’s three maids here.”

“I only spoke the truth,” Zhuoyan grumbled, accepting her admonition.

From morning till now, Xia Yanran’s smile had never wavered. Even now, she continued to smile at Chuxiu and the others. “Off you go now, don’t listen to Zhuoyan’s nonsense.” Her words were gentle, with no hint of condescension.

As she spoke, she removed a hairpin from her hair and handed it to Chuxiu. “You are most pleasing to my eye. Anything else would only do you a disservice. This hairpin is from my own family—please accept it.”

Another hairpin? Chuxiu, at that moment, thought incongruously of Ming Ying and the scars left on her arms by hairpins.

She brushed aside these stray thoughts and bowed, taking the hairpin and withdrawing. Danxin seemed to call her name behind her, but Chuxiu did not hear, stumbling unsteadily back to her quarters.

Faintly, she could still hear Danxin’s question behind her. “What does ‘Pine of Insight’ have to do with the mistress?”

“The mistress’s courtesy name is Pinyan,” Shallow Melody replied.

Pinyan… Insight… A sharp pain seized her heart, cruel and impossible to suppress. As she crossed her own threshold, her mind spun, breath caught in her chest, and, clutching at her heart, Chuxiu collapsed to the floor…