Chapter 4: Settling into the Shen Residence (4)
“Exactly. Right now they’re holding hands reminiscing about old times. They even shed tears earlier,” Chunchan said.
“Fifth Sister and I will go greet the Old Madam first,” Jilan said, turning to Ji Cheng. “You follow Sister Chunchan to the side hall and wait. When the Old Madam is free, she’ll take you to pay your respects.”
“Understood,” Ji Cheng replied, following Chunchan to the side hall.
The side hall stood empty except for a young tea-serving maid dozing against a pillar. She startled awake at Chunchan’s entrance and scurried forward. “Sister Chunchan.”
“This is Miss Ji, Third Madam’s niece. Tend to her properly—I must attend the Old Madam.” Chunchan turned to Ji Cheng. “Please wait here, Miss. I’ll fetch you when the Old Madam is ready.”
“Thank you, Sister,” Ji Cheng nodded.
The maid gaped at Ji Cheng before remembering her duties. Bold despite her youth, she leaned closer. “Miss Ji, we’ve fresh almond milk with cow’s cream—rich and fragrant. Would you like a cup?”
Ji Cheng meant to decline, but softened at the maid’s eager look. “That sounds lovely. Thank you, little sister.”
The maid—Ju’an—grinned and retreated to the tea room.
“Stealing almond milk again?” Duan’er slapped Ju’an’s shoulder from behind. “We barely made enough for guests! Should I tell Sister Xiuchun?”
Ju’an jumped, then exhaled in relief. “Who’s stealing? Miss Ji requested it!”
“What Miss Ji? You’re lying.” Duan’er snatched the cup and drained it, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief.
“Sister Chunchan said she’s Third Madam’s niece!”
“Hmph. Another poor cousin begging treats? Never tasted almond milk before?” Duan’er sneered.
“Don’t be mean! Miss Ji’s proper—Third Madam’s family are Jin’s wealthiest merchants.” Ju’an lowered her voice. “You’d know if you saw her—like a fairy descended from heaven!”
“Little fool!” Duan’er flicked Ju’an’s forehead. “She can’t compare to Miss Su in the main hall. Now there’s a beauty fit for operas!”
Ju’an crossed her arms. “I’ve not seen Miss Su, but Miss Ji’s just as fair!”
At thirteen, Duan’er’s curiosity outweighed her skepticism. “Let’s deliver the almond milk then. How could some northwest dust-girl compare?”
Thus began the maids’ rivalry over Su Yun and Ji Cheng’s beauty—like children arguing whether winter plum or summer lotus bloomed fairer.
Ju’an carried the almond milk while Duan’er bore a lacquered peachwood box with gold-inlaid landscapes. They placed their offerings silently on the black-lacquered table beside Ji Cheng—a testament to their rigorous training.
Duan’er lifted the lid, revealing seven peach-shaped dishes: dried apricots, almonds, persimmons, walnuts, and delicate hibiscus cakes shaped like blossoms—the work of patient, skilled hands.
The box itself was rare craftsmanship. Its lid depicted cranes soaring through jade mountains under golden lacquer—an heirloom piece. Ji Cheng mused how aristocratic families displayed wealth through daily luxuries rather than coin, maintaining dignity even in decline.
The maids withdrew silently, collapsing onto a corridor bench in giggles.
“Well? Saw her?” Ju’an demanded.
Duan’er tilted her head. “They should swap places! Miss Ji’s willow-slender with jade skin—a southern beauty despite her height. Miss Su has northern roses’ boldness but stands too short.”
Ju’an pressed, “Who’s prettier?”
“Hard to say... Miss Su’s a peony. Miss Ji is... hmm.”
“Why can’t you describe her?”
“She’s... lotus-pure yet... alluring?”
“Alluring?” Ju’an frowned. “She’s not some floozy!”
“Not that! She makes you want to keep looking.” Duan’er flushed.
“Yes!” Ju’an grabbed her arm. “I kept stealing glances!”
Their debate ended unresolved—no flower could capture Ji Cheng’s vitality.
Meanwhile, Ji Cheng studied the hall’s decor as she sipped the almond milk. The drink flowed smooth and sweet, the hibiscus cake fragrant as fresh petals. Unlike her practical family, the Shen household prized beauty even in edibles.
When Ju’an brought a carved spittoon, Ji Cheng rinsed her mouth and freshened her breath with mint paste—just as Chunchan returned.
“The Old Madam requests you.”
Ji Cheng straightened her dress. The main hall buzzed with activity. At its center sat Lady Shen on a daybed, her dark red longevity robe offset by a Hetian jade headband. Silver streaked her hair, but her eyes sparkled with vigor.
Beside her sat a southern matron in fashionable grain-patterned silk. To the left, Third Aunt Jilan flanked a plump, jeweled woman—Second Madam Huang, judging by her decades-old imperial jade ring.
To the right sat younger ladies. Foremost among them caught Ji Cheng’s breath—a petite vision with springhill brows and autumn-lake eyes, her waist slender enough to span hands. A living ode to ancient poetry’s beauties.
“Third Daughter-in-law, this must be your niece!” Lady Shen beckoned. “Come closer—my old eyes strain.”
Ji Cheng approached, letting the matriarch clasp her hands. “This humble one greets the Family’s Ancestor.”
“Good, good.” Lady Shen patted her fondly. “Last time you visited, I thought ‘What grace this child will grow into!’ Yet you surpass even my hopes—more southern than southerners!”
Jilan laughed. “You lamented her absence for three years! Now she’ll stay through your birthday celebrations.”
“Precisely!” Second Madam Huang chimed. “Our Old Ancestor would fill the house with pretty girls if she could!”
The room rippled with laughter as Lady Shen nodded. “Seeing them bloom reminds me of my own youth.”
A cushion appeared. Ji Cheng knelt gracefully, lifting her hem. “May the Ancestor’s fortune rival the Eastern seas, her lifespan the Southern mountains. May joy never leave her lips, and family harmony endure.”
“Well said.” Lady Shen handed her a red envelope via her chief maid Yun Jin. After brief pleasantries, she directed Ji Cheng to greet Lady Su.
The southern matron pressed a box of glass hairpins into Ji Cheng’s hands. “Such beauty outshines even my granddaughter!”
“Both bloom splendidly,” Lady Shen mediated.
After greeting Second Madam Huang, Ji Cheng was dismissed. “Young ones shouldn’t linger here. Go acquaint yourselves in the rear pavilion.”
As Ji Cheng rose, Su Yun and the Shen girls stood in unison—a floral procession toward their next gathering.
(End of Chapter)
