Chapter 7: The Cunning Slave

Yingshi instructed Chunlan and Xiangyao, “Go call all the servants in the courtyard and tell them the mistress wishes to bestow rewards.”

The two maids, puzzled but obedient, promptly left to summon everyone. Unexpectedly, Chunlan soon returned alone, empty-handed. “You’re back so soon? Where is everyone?” Gui Niang asked.

Chunlan, having achieved nothing, looked sullen and replied angrily, “As soon as I stepped outside, Madam Cao stopped me. She said all the servants are busy with the Third Master’s funeral—he’ll be buried tomorrow—so it’s unlikely everyone can make it. She said if you aren’t in a hurry, you can wait a few days and when you’re free in the morning, she’ll bring everyone to pay respects.”

Gui Niang burst out laughing. “What a coward! Bullied at your own door and you come running back! You are the mistress of this courtyard. How dare a wet nurse act so presumptuously?”

Chunlan, chastised, dared not defend herself and cast a pleading glance at Yingshi. But Yingshi seemed utterly unbothered, her voice calm. “Go again.”

This time, Chunlan dared not hesitate and, taking Xiangtao with her, went to call everyone once more.

After quite a while, the matrons and maids of the garden finally trickled in, a few at a time. They found their young mistress clad in mourning white, her hair in a cloud bun, adorned with a simple silk flower, brewing tea by the window.

Yingshi had entered the household in haste, missing all the proper rites of a bride—she hadn’t even had her face cleansed in the traditional way. The orange sun outside cast a gentle glow on her delicate cheeks.

Yingshi was naturally unhurried, patiently breaking up a tea cake, grinding it finely, then brewing it over the fire. Only when the chorus of greetings rose from the assembled servants did she set down her teacup.

She seemed entirely untroubled by their earlier neglect, her manner kindly as she addressed them: “I know you’re busy with the Third Master’s burial. It’s not important if everyone’s here or not. Today, I simply wish to become acquainted so we don’t embarrass ourselves by failing to recognize one another in our own courtyard.”

At her words, an older woman with a round, sturdy face and arms stepped forward, head bowed, flanked by two finely dressed young maids. The three together paid formal respects to Yingshi.

“I am the Third Master’s wet nurse and the chief stewardess of this garden. I married Steward Cao of the front court—if you need anything, just call me Mrs. Cao. These two girls are Coral and Bamboo, who used to serve in the Third Master’s rooms. He always had me oversee the garden maids together with these two head girls.”

Yingshi recognized this wet nurse of Liang Ji’s—her idleness and greed had caused Yingshi much suffering in her previous life. She recalled how, because she once spoke a few more words with a young gardener, Madam Cao reported her to Lady Wei, who then subtly warned her to abide by the way of women.

Now, seeing Madam Cao already throwing her weight around, invoking the deceased master at every turn, Yingshi concealed her distaste and smiled. “Since it was arranged by the Third Master himself, it must be as it should.”

This pleased Madam Cao immensely. The household servants always feared a new mistress would dismiss the old staff to install her own, especially now that the Third Master was gone and the newcomers’ dowry maids would take precedence.

Madam Cao had spent the past few days currying favor with Lady Wei, hoping to cling to her former status. Now, seeing the young new mistress so soft and shy, she thought her easily handled. Yingshi’s words of trust further inflated her confidence.

“So, shall we continue as before, with Coral and Bamboo serving in your rooms, Mistress?” Madam Cao ventured.

There was a world of difference between serving at a distance and attending the mistress personally. If Yingshi agreed, anything she whispered in her sleep might reach Lady Wei by morning.

Gui Niang shot Yingshi warning looks, urging her not to agree, but Yingshi feigned ignorance, her air muddled and indifferent. “Those who served the Third Master in life can hardly be found wanting now.”

She then rose from her couch and personally helped Madam Cao to a seat beside her, treating her with utmost courtesy. “You were the Third Master’s wet nurse—how can I have you kneeling and bowing to me all the time? My family was small and simple, not like the grand rules of the Liang household. I’ll rely on your guidance from now on.”

Her words lifted Madam Cao higher than ever. Even when the Third Master was alive, she’d never been treated with such respect. But instead of gratitude, Madam Cao felt only contempt. She’d heard that the new mistress was an orphan with no family in the capital—surely the lowest among the Liang ladies, which explained her deference.

Suppressing her smugness, Madam Cao replied, “If the mistress needs anything, just call on me. My family has served the Liangs for generations—I know the household inside and out.” She then turned to the maids behind her. “Coral, Bamboo, from now on you must serve the mistress as attentively as you did the Third Master. If you neglect your duties, I will hold you to account before she does!”

The two maids were lazy with Yingshi but deferential to Madam Cao. Yingshi, having met everyone, felt tired and instructed Gui Niang, “The Third Master has just passed, so we cannot give silver rewards, but it would not do to let you leave empty-handed after meeting me. Gui Niang, give each a length of white silk, and take some tea from Chen Commandery for Madam Cao and a tea cake each for Coral and Bamboo.”

Everyone beamed at the news, expressing their gratitude. Only Gui Niang was puzzled. Anyone could see the whole courtyard looked down on her mistress—why didn’t she seize this chance to assert herself, but instead humbled herself and handed out gifts?

But Gui Niang would not contradict her mistress in public and complied, going to fetch the items. The servants departed, delighted with their rewards, and the once noisy hall fell silent. Only then did Xiangyao, who had been waiting outside, dare enter with a tray.

“The kitchen just sent up your meal, Mistress. You’ve been busy all morning—please eat while it’s hot.”

Yingshi, suddenly relaxing, realized she had worked straight through to lunchtime, no wonder she felt so exhausted and hungry. Seeing Xiangyao setting out her chopsticks, the clatter of porcelain made her stomach rumble.

“What’s for lunch?” she asked, unable to resist peeking.

“The kitchen made you bean rice and bamboo shoot soup today,” Xiangyao replied.

The smile that had just appeared on Yingshi’s face vanished. The very names of these dishes spelled blandness. Bean rice was simply yellow beans steamed with grain, nothing else added. Bamboo shoot soup, also called “three delicacies soup,” had a name that promised flavor but no meat at all—just dried bamboo shoots, slivers of fresh shoot, and water reed simmered in plain water, with not a drop of oil, only a pinch of salt. What taste could there be?

She had spent years in her previous life in mourning for Liang Ji, and later, when illness struck, she could eat nothing rich. Now, after being given a second chance with a healthy body, must she still eat bean rice and watery soup?

Her brows knit, her voice tinged with grievance. “I only had a mouthful of porridge at the old lady’s this morning. Now I’m famished and dizzy, and this is all there is?”

Xiangyao hesitated. “Well—?”

“Good Xiangyao, think of something, get me something decent to eat.” Yingshi knew Xiangyao was young but clever—surely she could find a way.

But even resourceful Xiangyao could only suggest, “Shall I cook you some noodles? I could add some of the lard Gui Niang secretly made?”

Lard? Plain soup noodles?

Yingshi couldn’t help but show her distaste.

“Then what does Mistress wish to eat?” Xiangyao asked innocently, eyes wide.

Yingshi closed her eyes, recalling long-lost cravings: roast mutton, braised deer tendon, stir-fried phoenix tongue, cherry pork, sweet-scented duck web, almond pudding...

Xiangyao, still growing, had eaten nothing but bland fare since coming to the Liang household. Hearing Yingshi’s list, she nearly drooled, but caught herself, worried. “Everyone’s watching, even the lard was smuggled in by Gui Niang from the market. How could we dare buy such things...?”

Yingshi opened her eyes and whispered, “Didn’t the old lady send blood bird’s nest this morning? Did you see where Gui Niang put it? Take out two bowls to soak, then get a jar of milk from the main kitchen and cook them together. When it’s done, add some icing sugar and candied fruit... It may not be meat, but it’ll nourish us well enough.”

Xiangyao swallowed hard, her own hunger now fully aroused. “Two bowls is too much, isn’t it? We maids couldn’t eat such delicacies. I’ll just make half a bowl for you...”

Yingshi’s heart ached. Her maids scrimped and saved, all because she, their mistress, was powerless and had little silver.

But she was not truly poor. Her father, as the eldest son, should have inherited vast estates, but only left her, a daughter, and so the ancestral lands of the Ruan clan went elsewhere. Yet her father left her some private property, and her mother’s dowry was substantial enough for comfort if not extravagance.

But Gui Niang always pinched every penny, saving for a dowry Yingshi could be proud of when she married into the Duke’s household. The Liangs were a great clan—her sisters-in-law would all be from powerful backgrounds. Gui Niang feared Yingshi would be mocked for a meager dowry.

Then, after her husband died, gossip surrounded the widow’s door, and Gui Niang became even more frugal, splitting every tael in two.

But Yingshi remembered, before she died in her past life, she still had plenty of silver unspent, all left to Chunlan, who, unworldly and miserly, likely never knew how to use it.

She would not let herself or her loved ones go without any longer. Life was short, and one should enjoy good food while health allowed—who knew if, when old and toothless, she’d ever have the chance again?

“What’s two bowls of bird’s nest? The old lady herself said today that I am to receive both my own and Liang Ji’s monthly allowance. Your mistress now gets dozens of taels a month—surely that’s enough for a few bowls of bird’s nest?”

Xiangyao, who hadn’t gone that morning, was unaware of the double allowance. Hearing it now, she was overjoyed.

“Hurry, then!” Yingshi urged her repeatedly.