Chapter 1: Moving into the Shen Residence (1)
Leaving Shanxi for the capital, one route passed through Jingxing, lined with numerous tea stalls catering to travelers needing water and horse provisions.
Early that morning, while dew still clung to the leaves, a caravan clattered up to Sanbao's tea stall.
Sanbao hurried out to greet them, tending to the guests' horses, diligently dusting the long benches, and fetching a stack of chipped cups worn from years of use. He poured steaming golden tea into them.
"What are you doing? Watch it!" barked a burly guest impatiently. Sanbao looked down to find he'd overfilled a cup, spilling tea. He apologized profusely while swiftly wiping the table.
The woman who had so captivated Sanbao that he'd neglected his task now glared at him with arched willow-leaf brows and almond-shaped eyes. "Fill this pot with boiling water," she demanded.
"Right away!" Sanbao grinned broadly as he took the brass pot with its lotus-patterned lid from Yuqian'er. Its weight told him it was double-layered—an intricate vessel only the wealthy could afford.
"Who are you calling 'miss'?" Yuqian'er snapped. "Just set it on the table."
Sanbao's hands trembled, nearly dropping the pot. After placing it down, he watched Yuqian'er fastidiously wipe the exterior with a handkerchief before carrying it back to the central carriage.
How particular! Yet her obvious disdain left Sanbao unperturbed—he was accustomed to such treatment. He continued grinning foolishly, marveling at having encountered such beauty for the first time. What family employed such exquisite maids? Their future son-in-law would be fortunate indeed, he mused with a lewd smirk.
"Snap out of it, idiot!"
Startled, Sanbao turned to catch a flung string of copper coins. By the time he finished counting, the party was already mounting horses and carriages to depart.
He hefted the coins, impressed by their generosity. Though never venturing far himself, Sanbao recognized quality guards when he saw them—these broad-shouldered, disciplined escorts surpassed what ordinary merchants could afford. This had to be an official's household from the west.
Yuqian'er set the brass pot in her carriage, rubbing her sore arms. Days of travel had left her joints aching, yet her mistress sat as gracefully as if in a garden pavilion—daydreaming while maintaining perfect poise.
"Since no one's watching, why not recline for a while?" Yuqian'er sighed.
"Mix warm water for me to wash my face," Ji Cheng replied, ignoring the suggestion.
As Yuqian'er and Liu Ye attended to her toilette—washing her face, combing her hair, applying peach-blossom rouge to mask travel fatigue—Yuqian'er suppressed her perennial bewilderment. What was the point of such meticulous grooming inside a carriage?
Ji Cheng never expected her maid to understand. For those not born into noble families, a single lapse in decorum could unravel years of effort. Though the Ji family possessed mountains of gold and vast estates, any perceived coarseness would forever bar her from marrying into old aristocratic clans.
Liu Ye, two years Yuqian'er senior, better grasped her mistress's concerns. Noticing the worry between Ji Cheng's brows, she offered comfort: "You'll surely succeed, miss. Your aunt wasn't half as comely."
Ji Cheng glanced sideways. How naive. Her aunt's legendary marriage hadn't been won by beauty alone. "You think everyone enjoys Aunt's luck?" she retorted. "For women, talent and fortune must align—such tales are rare through the ages."
The story of Ji Lan remained legendary among provincial girls. When the Ji family were mere Shanxi merchants, she had played the Flower Goddess during a festival procession, capturing the heart of Duke Qi's third son. Though only fit to be his concubine by birth, her refusal compelled him to hunger-strike until his parents consented to a proper marriage—a romantic feat still envied decades later.
As Liu Ye fell silent, Yuqian'er blurted: "Your fortune will surpass your aunt's! Any man wedding you would be blessed!" She added with conviction: "Who doesn't love wealth?"
"Yuqian'er!" Liu Ye chided, aghast at the implication their mistress relied solely on money.
Ji Cheng waved dismissively. "You underestimate the world's hypocrisy. Many crave gold yet scorn its scent."
Yuqian'er immediately quieted. If her mistress declared it so, it must be true—Ji Cheng's words were gospel.
The carriage wheels rumbled onto Copper Sparrow Street, where two vermilion-gated mansions dominated the thoroughfare—both bearing the Shen surname.
The Duke Qi's Shen family had split into three branches despite their matriarch's survival. The eldest, Shen Zhuo, had married a princess and inherited the ducal title. The second, Shen Xiu, earned the Marquis of Loyalty title through imperial service, receiving an adjacent mansion to honor both his achievement and filial duties.
The pragmatic matriarch had formalized the separation—better divided mansions than squabbling heirs.
As for the third son Shen Ying, now a mere Ministry of War clerk, his sideways-facing residence in Copper Sparrow Alley—purchased with his mother's funds—paled beside his brothers' estates.
When the Ji carriage turned into Iron Hat Alley's side gate, a groom greeted them: "Young Master, the master remains at his office. The mistress bids you and the young lady proceed to the inner courtyard."
Ji Yuan dismounted while Ji Cheng stayed seated until reaching the ornamental gate, where maids and matrons assisted her descent into the inner compound.
The unfamiliar matron greeting them—not Shen Wanli's wife who'd received Ji Cheng previously—introduced herself as Madam Cui.
Liu Ye上前亲切地叫了声崔妈妈，又袖了个荷包给她："You seem new, Mama Cui. Have you served our aunt these past years?"
Weighing the purse's heft, Cui smiled obsequiously: "This unworthy one merely oversees the front tea room."
Yuqian'er barely maintained her composure. Only Ji Cheng's smile remained unshaken, warm as spring breeze.
The woman in charge of the tea room was also responsible for entertaining guests during household visits. When slightly closer female relatives came calling, any sensible person like Ji Lan should have sent her personal maid to receive them. Having served as the Third Madam of the Shen family for over a decade, she couldn't possibly be ignorant of such basic social etiquette.
Ji Cheng understood perfectly - her aunt was delivering a veiled challenge, perhaps disdainful of their merchant wealth. Yet she had no choice but to endure this humiliation. Her entire plan to remain in the capital and enter elite social circles depended on Ji Lan's connections. The older woman clearly understood this vulnerability.
As Ji Cheng followed her elder brother Ji Yuan into the main courtyard of Shen Manor, she noted the increased austerity compared to her visit three years prior with their father. Were it not for her knowledge of the substantial annual funds the Ji family provided her aunt, she might have believed the Third Branch teetered on financial ruin.
Ji Lan received them in the main hall. The siblings' entrance seemed to brighten the room, making observers instinctively squint.
"Greetings, Aunt," Ji Yuan said with a bow, Ji Cheng mirroring his movements.
"So this is Yuan'er?" Ji Lan smiled. "I scarcely recognize you after all these years."
The reserved young man simply nodded politely.
"Your father's letter explained your situation. Third Master has inquired about the academy matters - there should be no issues. You may settle here comfortably." Ji Lan's gaze lingered approvingly on her nephew's jade-like elegance.
"Thank you, Aunt. Are my cousins not present?"
Ji Lan's sons, sixteen and eight respectively, occupied her reply: "With numerous guests lately, they attend the matriarch." Her elder son Shen Jing's enrollment at Dongshan Academy prompted Ji Yuan's interest in scholarly exchange.
Only after concluding with Ji Yuan did Ji Lan turn her attention. Though the Ji clan bore no plain features, this niece had elevated their beauty to celestial heights - a living embodiment of nature's finest craftsmanship. With better lineage, such looks might grace imperial palaces.
"A-Cheng? Three years transforms a child into a woman." Ji Lan's laughter rang hollow. "You could shame palace concubines with those features." The once-chubby girl now matched her aunt's height, youthful softness replaced by willowy grace.
"Aunt." Ji Cheng curtsied again.
The girl's honeyed voice made Ji Lan's brow twitch, resurrecting memories of that vulgar sister-in-law - the pretty tofu peddler who'd cloyed her way into the family. Modern Ji standards would never permit such low company, but in their fledgling merchant days, her besotted brother had forced their parents' consent.
Now this child wielded the same sugared tones, that sticky-sweet voice doubtless meant to ensnare. Ji Cheng recognized the disapproval, familiar from three years prior when her father proposed fostering her at Shen Manor. Young pride had rejected the unspoken refusal, but fate cares little for ambition.
After extended pleasantries with Ji Yuan, Ji Lan dispatched him to guest quarters. Left behind, Ji Cheng followed silently to the austere eastern chamber - a widow's domain, devoid of luxury. The excessive plainness revealed her aunt's insecurity about merchant origins, though such forced humility bred its own vulgarity.
Ji Lan reclined on the southern window seat while her niece perched on the subordinate rosewood chair. The casual posture suggested either familial ease or deliberate disrespect.
"These preparations for the matriarch's birthday have aggravated my old pains," Ji Lan complained, kneading her shoulder.
"Allow me, Aunt." Ji Cheng moved behind her.
"Those willow-switch arms can manage?" The challenge hung between them.
"Judge for yourself." Increased pressure accompanied Ji Cheng's smile as skilled fingers worked the muscles.
"Well now," Ji Lan purred, eyes closed. "Unexpected talent for service." Nearby maids exchanged glances at this veiled insult, but the girl's hands never faltered. Ji Lan's slit-eyed appraisal noted the composure - remarkable poison for one so young. Lesser girls would rage at such humiliation, unaware that true weakness forfeits even the right to anger.
When sweat glowed on Ji Cheng's brow, Ji Lan finally spoke again. "Your father's letter mentions seeking a capital marriage for you."
The fifteen-year-old's cheeks colored despite her composure.
"You see only surface glories." Ji Lan's sigh carried decades-old bitterness. "Merchant-born wives live like oil in fire. Every word wrong, every action suspect. I lost two children during the undivided household years."
"Your care humbles me, Aunt." Releasing the older woman's shoulders, Ji Cheng knelt gracefully. "Not vanity drives me. You recall the Zhus - that forty-year-old magistrate's lackey who tried taking me as concubine?" Her voice thickened with remembered shame. "When Second Brother defended my honor, they broke his legs and jailed him under false charges. Without your intervention..."
Tears fell like pear blossoms, crystalline tracks enhancing her luminous eyes. "This face brings only danger. Yet how dare I harm what my parents gave? Let me repay their nurture through proper marriage."
The performance softened Ji Lan's skepticism. "Rise," she ordered, a maid immediately assisting. As Ji Cheng blotted tears with exquisite gestures, even servants stared transfixed.
"Two years past proves nothing." Ji Lan's renewed sharpness cut the air. "Proper conduct prevents such troubles."
Ji Cheng's fists whitened against her lap. Meeting her aunt's gaze squarely, she countered: "At Flower Festival, I wore veils. Zhu demanded me sight unseen - bitter over business losses to Ji enterprises enterprises."
