Chapter 1

It was already after the White Dew in August, and since the beginning of the fifteenth year of the Jing Calendar, not a drop of rain had fallen over Qingjing City and the neighboring provinces.

A summer without rain meant the fields were parched and cracked. At a time when the autumn harvest should have filled the granaries, not a single grain had been reaped. It was clear that famine was imminent, wails would echo across the land, and some would not survive the coming autumn.

No matter how anxious the people outside grew, the high officials and nobles living in the capital carried on with their lives as usual. The weather was oppressively dry and hot, and the citizens of Qingjing City would gather in groups beneath the eaves of grand estates to seek respite from the heat, chatting and gossiping.

The outer walls of the Old General’s Mansion were tall and broad, and every day a row of knowledgeable women squatted along them, discussing everything under the sun.

“This weather is unbearable. Even talking to you makes my throat dry as dust.”

“We city folk still have it better. I heard from my relatives in the countryside that their well has run dry. They have to measure out every sip of water each day.”

The women under the eaves raised their kettles for a drink. They still had enough water, let alone the noble residents of the Old General’s Mansion.

A soft sedan chair, draped with a cotton curtain, arrived from the east and stopped at the mansion’s gate. First, a maid in blue stepped out, then she helped a young lady descend from the sedan.

“She’s not just any young lady. That’s the General’s divorced daughter, returned home. To put it bluntly, the Old General built this house with military merit, and his youngest daughter squandered it all.”

The Old General’s Mansion stood where the domains of nobility met the commoners in Qingjing City. Since the general’s death, the mansion had gradually declined, pushed to the margins of high society. In another generation or two, there would be little difference between its occupants and the common folk.

Yet for those gathered outside, the mansion’s gate was still an insurmountable divide. The divorced woman who had just alighted was the only figure they dared to discuss openly.

Qin Xiangyi wore a dark teal silk gown with subtle patterns, befitting her age. The hem fell straight and still, mirroring the solemn gravity of her expression. The chatter about her died instantly.

Qin Xiangyi carried an aura of discipline and order that commanded respect and awe, leaving no room for offense—yet she was a woman who had ended her marriage.

Her hair was jet-black, neatly arranged in a high chignon. Her face, as flawless as a carefully measured jade disc, was free of blemish. Her brows, long and regular, arched ever so slightly, exuding an air of cool authority without the hint of anger, untouched by the dust of the world. No matter what was said, not a crease would mar her brow. Yet it was precisely this air that made people all the more eager to drag her down with gossip.

Between her even brows was a beauty mark, crimson and distinct, as if painted by birth, giving her the semblance of a Guanyin statue, cold yet compassionate.

Without so much as a sidelong glance, Qin Xiangyi stepped through the mansion gates, flanked by two somewhat worn white jade lion statues. She had returned to the mansion a year ago after her divorce and was well aware of the daily rumors that swirled outside.

Ever since she left the eastern palace and returned, the Old General’s Mansion had become the most remote and dilapidated residence along her way, but it was still her family home.

Sadly, when she returned, the Old General—her father—who had held up the family, was already gone.

Now, the household was managed by her elder brother and sister-in-law. Qin Xiangyi’s return was most inopportune.

She knew people said she was shameless for coming back, but her ever-calm face only made them angrier.

This much-maligned divorced woman, if not for her reputation, could easily be mistaken for an eligible noble lady, the kind for whom suitors would break down the door. Yet with her discerning eyes, she would hardly spare any of them a glance.

As she walked into the mansion, supported by her maid Qiansong, some old servants would still bow respectfully and greet her, “Good day, young madam.”

Those who still greeted her were all, without exception, the old retainers left by her father, now relegated to marginal tasks within the household.

She was much the same as they—her place in the family moving ever closer to its edges. When her mother was gone, she would have no place here at all.

Qin Xiangyi lowered her gaze, lifting her skirt to cross the threshold, her thick lashes veiling the loneliness that should have shown in her eyes.

A servant from Chunfang Hall approached her. “Young madam, the old lady wishes to see you.”

Since her mother had called, Qin Xiangyi adjusted her steps and made her way to Chunfang Hall.

The mansion still held some lingering echo of its former glory, but since her return, Qin Xiangyi never set foot beyond her own and her mother’s quarters.

She pretended the gossip outside did not hurt her, but she knew well enough she was no longer welcome in this home.

Even her mother, though she never said it, felt her daughter had shamed her.

Qin Xiangyi maintained her composure not out of self-deprecation, but because she genuinely believed she had done nothing wrong, and could not fathom why others thought she should feel ashamed.

Chunfang Hall was hidden deep in the heart of the mansion. Since her father’s death and her brother’s assumption of power, her mother had moved further in for peace.

Her own quarters were close by, and she did not have far to walk.

When she arrived at Chunfang Hall, she was quietly surprised to see the whole family gathered. Clearly, something important was to be discussed.

They were still speaking of other matters when she entered.

“It’s been a month since the beginning of autumn, and not a drop of rain. The heat is unbearable,” someone complained.

“Do you know what the people outside are saying? This drought has brought misery everywhere, discontent is boiling over. Since the founding of the dynasty, when has such a calamity befallen us? Who is to blame for Heaven’s wrath?” Madam Qi cast a sidelong glance to the east.

Though the Old General was gone and the mansion’s prestige had faded, its residents still discussed affairs of state as if they were household matters.

A warning look silenced Madam Qi.

The Jingli Emperor, lost in wine and elixirs, had long neglected state affairs, and no one dared spread rumors implicating him.

“Mother, brother, sister-in-law,” Qin Xiangyi greeted them all, curtseying before sitting beside her mother.

Even Madam Qi, who once could only stand by her mother-in-law, now had a seat; Lady Jiang, gentle by nature, was never harsh with her daughters-in-law.

Her brother, Qin Tianzhu, nodded in greeting, as did his wife and their three daughters and one son.

“Aunt,” the children greeted.

Qin Xiangyi looked over them calmly. The whole family was present. The Qins were not many—her brother was the sole male heir, and his son the only grandson.

Madam Qi exchanged a glance with the old lady, signaling it was time to begin.

Lady Jiang cleared her throat and spoke.

“Ling, the eldest’s daughter, is of age to marry. Her mother has inquired carefully and learned that Grand Tutor He, in gratitude for the Old General’s service, is willing to have his eldest grandson meet our eldest granddaughter. To show goodwill, the He family will visit us tomorrow.”

Madam Qi quickly added, “The He family is most distinguished. If we can form such a connection, our fortunes need not decline further. Everyone must prepare earnestly—no mistakes can be tolerated.”

She cautioned the younger ones, glancing repeatedly at Qin Xiangyi, then at the old lady.

The old lady said, “Xiangyi, if you have no duties at the palace tomorrow, please remain in your own quarters.”

In other words, she was not to appear.

Qiansong bristled, but Qin Xiangyi’s expression did not change. She replied evenly, “Yes.”

She agreed, not because she felt her presence was inappropriate, but to avoid conflict with her sister-in-law and spare her mother further embarrassment.

Rather than trouble her family, it was wiser to quietly plan her own retreat.

She lowered her lashes, choosing silence. The marriage between Young Master He and Ling may not come to pass, and her absence would prevent her sister-in-law from blaming her if things fell through.

She sat quietly as her sister-in-law made all arrangements, then the gathering dispersed.

Her quarters were not far from Chunfang Hall, in a secluded corner. Only after everyone had left did she bid her mother farewell.

At the threshold, just as she was about to cross, Lady Jiang called her back, sighing deeply before she spoke.

“Xiangyi, why bring yourself to such a state by coming home? In marriage, every woman endures hardship. What matters the bitterness within, as long as you appear respectable to others? Even if you occasionally visit, your sister-in-law would still have to honor you.”

Qin Xiangyi knew she could not change her mother’s mind, nor did she blame her. Everyone said she had chosen wrongly; if not for her resolve, she might believe it herself.

She had nothing to say to others, but to her mother, she would confess her vulnerability.

“But, Mother, he beat me.”

She turned, standing at the threshold, sunlight gilding her profile so that the fine hairs and her tresses glimmered in the light—a beauty outlined in gold.

Lady Jiang was momentarily lost in thought. Her youngest daughter was, undeniably, a true beauty. Yet beauty, when its worth is lost, is of little comfort.

Watching her daughter defend herself, Lady Jiang could only say, “But you’re standing here safe and sound, aren’t you? Your arms and legs are fine, aren’t they?” She could not understand her daughter’s pain.

The pale nape exposed above her collar shone in the sunlight—proof of a life untouched by suffering.

As the sun shifted, the light on her faded, leaving only a dark silhouette.

She bent her knees in the barest of curtseys, murmured an apology, and left.

The next morning, the Qin household was abuzz with preparations. Flowers and trees were newly tended—except for Spring Mist Court, which was deliberately neglected.

No one in the family thought of the divorced daughter hidden away.

Qin Xiangyi and her maid Qiansong spent the day in their quiet courtyard, undisturbed.

Qin Xiangyi took out her box of gold filaments and began to polish them, drawing them finer than a strand of hair. This was the crucial step in crafting a double-butterfly hairpin, and with no one to disturb her, she could devote herself fully to the delicate work.

He Yanzhou came alone to the Old General’s Mansion, carrying the expectations of his parents and grandfather.

Such a marriage meeting did not require both He parents’ attendance; all the necessary inquiries had been made long before. With the match settled, all that remained was to follow the proper steps.

He Yanzhou accepted his family’s arrangements. This visit was merely a formality.

The sun had long since climbed to its zenith, weighing heavily on all beneath it. The court’s political undercurrents had grown stifling, and He Yanzhou, accustomed to serving before the emperor, found today’s respite at the Qin residence unusually light-hearted.