Chapter 92

The day they owned the kinship, everyone wept without stopping. There were too many of the clan for Chen Dasheng and the others to bring them all back, so for now they found a large carriage-inn in the county town near Jiangzhu and settled the kin there. They brought back only the First and Second Grand-uncles to Quanhou Manor.

By the custom of Chen Dasheng's old home, elders of his father's generation who were senior to his father could be called First Grand-uncle and Second Grand-uncle, or more simply First Granduncle and Second Granduncle.

The old lady saw the clan-kin and felt the same blow Chen Dasheng had. Their house had gone out whole and come back whole. Hers? One look told her it would fit in one hand.

It hurt. Her heart hurt until it split.

What a house they had been, generation after generation, a full house of strong hands. The old master had once said that their old Chen house was poor and had no gift for anything, but it was rare in one thing: its people flourished.

She was the kind to fret over loss and gain. When the kin had gone, she fell gravely ill, and it took a good half-month for her to mend.

When the old lady was well again, Ma Ergu married Pan Baqiao into the house. In a blink the Qingming festival of the fourth month came, and the old Chen house raised its new ancestral hall below Jiangzhu Mountain. Qi Qian'er ran the household. She traded a manor she had bought near Qingfeng for Princess Fuhe's manor. Never mind who came out ahead. Both sides got what they wanted and were content.

Three hundred li is a delicate distance, neither far nor near.

But the day the new clan genealogy was written, the old lady, who had stayed quiet all this while, took some notion into her head. She would not, for her life, let Madam Qiao's name go onto the genealogy. Chen Siniu begged her many times, and the first time he knocked his head on the floor until it bled, but the old lady never gave in.

Madam Qiao, frightened past bearing, went soft as mud. She came to Quanhou Manor, knelt at the old house's gate, and wept in earnest for three days. Over and over she brought up her children, Xique and little Ting, but the old lady stayed cold and unmoved.

Early that year Madam Qiao had gotten a proper marriage writ with Chen Siniu at the yamen. But on the clan's side, with her mother-in-law the old lady refusing to own her, she could only be a concubine. She would not be buried with Chen Siniu when she died. Her spirit tablet would never sit in the hall's main place. She could never again wear true red, and she would never again receive invitation cards from the household mistresses of the great houses.

No one knew whether Madam Qiao felt any regret. All anyone knew was that back when she did her evil in secret, she likely never dreamed her whole life's fate would end up resting in the hands of the country old woman she'd once looked down on.

The old lady could not say aloud that her daughter-in-law had beaten her in secret. So she threw away her own good name and played the harsh mother-in-law instead, and no one could do a thing about it.

Even Chen Siniu never thought his mother would hate him so much. She hated him enough to drag his next generation down to the sons of a concubine, and the old lady did not hold back. This is the power of clan law.

This affair was a textbook case of clan law overriding state law.

Chen Siniu scrambled all through the ancestral hall, wanting to be made the Chen clan-head. However he counted it on his fingers, he thought the position should be his.

There was reason in it too. By the proper order, the eldest branch held the right to the clan-head's seat.

But sad to say, he and Madam Qiao had sold their house at Quanhou Manor too and moved to Yanjing. Now that he wanted to mend things and plead his case, he no longer had the easy footing he once had.

Qi Qian'er cared nothing for the quarrel between the old lady and Chen Siniu. This Qingming she was busy too. In the morning she was to sacrifice to the Chen ancestors, and in the afternoon go to the Plague God temple and burn great heaps of paper money for Liao the eunuch, two full baskets of it.

Once the paper was burned, she would go to Huo Manor and tend her mother's grave. If Chen Dasheng weren't such a good son-in-law, his wife would not even have been able to say where her own mother lay buried. But he knelt properly at the two grave mounds and burned paper for them.

When Qingming had passed and the willow-catkins were flying, Qi Qian'er, who had gone so long without an invitation, finally got one of honor. The Founding Earl's Chang house was holding a flower-viewing feast at the Peony Court in Xiaoxian Garden, and invited all the madams of Guard Lane to come make merry.

Lícao, the court's name, is an old word for the peony.

With Qingming past and the spring waters about to rise, it was just the season to walk the green and see the peonies. So early that morning Qi Qian'er set out in a new spring gown of blue shot through with gold, and a jade collar.

Guard Lane had six household mistresses now, but only two could go: Qi Qian'er and Pan Baqiao. As for the rest, Ding Yuniang was taking spring tonics to mend her health, Madam Cheng never went out to socialize, and Zhang Wanru and Lu-shi were both big with child and loath to go anywhere the flower-scent hung thick. If anything went wrong there, it would be no small matter.

So the round-cheeked new bride climbed into a carriage with her little sister-in-law. Newly wed and still shy, she only nibbled snacks the whole way and said very little.

The days in Guard Lane were fine indeed. Whatever you wanted to eat, you could simply order it from the kitchen.

Qi Qian'er had been busy a whole month and only today got a little ease. With Pan Baqiao quiet beside her, she dozed the whole way, and was still half-asleep when she got down at Xiaoxian Garden.

Outside Xiaoxian Garden the carriages and horses gathered thick, and the scented wind curled about. Granny Zhao, who often attended at the Chang madam's side, had long been waiting at the gate, sent to receive only the madams of Guard Lane.

Granny Zhao saw Qi Qian'er and came up gladly to make her courtesy, then led her in, asking as they walked, "Aiyo, madam, you've come at last. The old lady has been watching for you all morning."

Qi Qian'er smiled at that, and said nothing more.

In truth, in these two years she had not met any of the Chang house's household mistresses face to face. For one thing, she had been in mourning. For another, she and Bao-shi were forever at odds, and neither would give way.

If the Chang house had not been holding this flower-viewing at Xiaoxian Garden, and had Granny Zhao not come to invite her in person three times running, she would not have come at all.

Inside Xiaoxian Garden they switched to two small bamboo sedans, and the women carried the two sisters-in-law off into the deep of the garden.

The Chang house was founding nobility, a house of the first rank, so Bao-shi's court was of course the biggest and most spacious of all. Never mind the pavilions and towers and the winding water to either side. Of peonies alone there were ten thousand plants within.

The sedan went along a broad path opened just for the occasion, straight to the Peony Court. Along the way were only the Chang servants coming and going, leading the young ladies of the various houses in to view the flowers. Even without looking at the blooms, the whole garden was full of pretty color. A spring wind blew past, carrying a noseful of faint scent and an earful of youth at its liveliest.

A pity there was no getting down to walk. Everyone riding the bamboo sedans was a madam of some house, holding the household's inner keys, and that carefree, easy, roam-where-you-please life was gone for them now.

In a little while Qi Qian'er and Pan Baqiao were carried beneath a fine three-story wooden tower, and had scarce got down when they heard someone call loud: "The madams of Guard Lane are here!"

The cry was passed along from one voice to the next, and it startled Pan Baqiao. Qi Qian'er saw her fright and took her hand to lead her in.

Past another gate, and unlike the peony-thronged garden outside, the inside of the wooden tower was quiet. There was no telling what trick the builder had used, but once they entered, the flower-scent changed to a light, elegant scent of water, and the merry noise outside strangely seemed to fall far away.

A few steps further, they heard a few plucked notes. The far-off strings, stroke by stroke, plucked at the heart and seemed to draw them up the stairs.

A woman handed Qi Qian'er a scented fan. She took it, waved it, and smiled. "This scent is better than the one outside. What incense is it?"

Granny Zhao answered with a smile, "To answer you, madam, it's not our usual incense. It's Dashi incense the family's lords brought back from overseas."

Granny Zhao led the two sisters-in-law up the stairs. At the turn, from a half-shut carved window, came a soft, clear chanting of verse. One or two lines could just be caught: the Spring Lord's thousand blooms of red, the first spring on the immortal palace's bough. In the court below, some gifted girl had composed a peony poem for the season, and the girls, dear things, chanted it low and sweet together. When it was done, they crowded close to praise it, good, good, wondrously good, already half drunk on the sound alone.

Pan Baqiao, only just made a household mistress, stopped at the sound. She leaned on her fan and looked down sidelong, and there was no telling what she saw, but her eyes lit up.

Qi Qian'er saw her like that and laughed. "Don't think about it now. From here on, there's no squeezing into gatherings like that for you. What, are you envious?"

Pan Baqiao laughed softly and put her lips to Qi Qian'er's ear. "Sister doesn't know this, but they never invited me to such elegant, dashing places. Now and then I'd go anyway, thick-skinned, just to get at the few plates of sweets they wouldn't eat. They all have talent and I have none, so leaving good sweets uneaten would be such a waste."

Pan Baqiao was the Guard Lane madam with the smallest dowry. Whatever bride-price Ma Ergu gave, her house sent back exactly that much in dowry, not one wen of extra chest-money.

But Ma Ergu loved her all the same, especially when she worked the abacus beads at home. The simple fellow would watch her, besotted, all but drooling.

As Qi Qian'er said, when it came to reckoning accounts, no one in the Pan house could be matched. Never mind that this was the same Pan Baqiao who had been a nobody in her last life. The other five madams of Guard Lane, reckoning the household together, were still not as quick as this little sister-in-law. Since she arrived, Qi Qian'er and Zhang Wanru felt like they'd entered a fairyland, and their days had turned easy.

In a moment a stout old-woman's voice hailed from within: "Come in quick! This old woman means to see today just what this little firecracker looks like."

Qi Qian'er couldn't help laughing at that. She waved her fan and walked slowly in, and past layer on layer of smoke-colored gauze curtains, finally leaned her head around to see a great crowd of old ladies and madams.

And the crowd within saw a fair, clean, plain, sweet, pretty little woman, her two eyes bent up like crescent moons.

She laughed low: "Just like this, then!"

At that the room laughed.

An old lady with clear, open brows and hair gone gray sat there in a spring gown of diamond-patterned gauze for the season. She was no longer young, but she wore palace powder and a fresh peony in her hair. She beckoned to Qi Qian'er, smiling. "Good child, come here quick, let Granny have a good look at you."

For two years and more this little wife had been trading jabs with Bao-shi, and time and again she had dragged this old lady in to play go-between and smooth things over. Seeing the old lady so kind now, Qi Qian'er finally felt a twinge of conscience.

She went over. A servant brought a cushion, and Qi Qian'er left Pan Baqiao's side and knelt down. She took the teacup a servant brought her, raised it above her head, and bowed. "Your grandson's wife asks Granny's golden peace."

Old Madam Chen, back home, had long taken Chang Lianfang as a foster-grandson, and Scabby and Chang Lianfang were sworn brothers who had bowed to her more times than anyone could count. So by any reckoning, this Chang matriarch had to be Qi Qian'er's foster-grandmother too.

The Chang matriarch took the teacup smiling, bent down, and looked Qi Qian'er over a good while in earnest. At last she laughed. "Hmph, today I'll take this tea of yours. Tomorrow when my third son's home there'll be another ceremony, and I'll get to enjoy this fine treat all over again."

With that she drank a few mouthfuls and went on, "You're just as I imagined, the brisk sort I like best."

For the Chang and Chen houses to seal the bond and become proper kin, they would have to wait for the men of the two houses to come home and preside over it. Today was only the inner-court women meeting first, to get acquainted, and growing close in private was allowed too. Still, the rite could not be skimped, and at this first meeting Qi Qian'er had to bow to her elder.

Once the tea was drunk, the Chang matriarch had the woman at her side bring out a two-tiered dressing case of gold filigree inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

Qi Qian'er took it in both hands, passed it back to Siyue, took another cup of tea, and lifted her eyes to the Chang matriarch.

The Chang matriarch smiled and drew over a woman who had been sitting at her side, dressed in a pale green gauze gown, small in figure, with lucky brows and lucky eyes, a plain, guileless look, and a smile at her lips. She sat the woman down and said to Qi Qian'er, "My child, this is your foster-mother!"

Qi Qian'er held her tea and looked Chai-shi over carefully. Mm, how to put it? This madam had stirred up half a lifetime of talk in Yanjing, all because she often took a real blade and chased her own husband onto the roof, could hunt him half a street, and had trodden countless roof tiles to bits along the way.

Now and then, when the Earl of Chang went too far, the Founding Earl's house would even see the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law join hands to beat him. Giving the Earl a bruised nose and a swollen face was no great matter at all.

Chai-shi laughed, showing a pair of big dimples. This madam was a guileless, blunt, plain-spoken sort. At home she had long held a grudge against her eldest daughter-in-law, but being the mother-in-law, she couldn't well go after her directly, so she nursed no small silent temper instead. The beatings she gave the Earl were all on account of her good son, whom his own father had sent off and swapped away for a pig.

This eldest son had married badly, and the second son no better. The second wife, Xia-shi, had no fault except that she would never speak straight. She was all clinging and weepy, worried and hard-pressed, always leaving you to guess what she meant. And so the second son was swapped away for a winding little ditch, and Chai-shi felt she couldn't go on living.

The old Chang house's three generations of household mistresses weren't bad people in themselves. They were all plain, ordinary women, only badly matched with each other, which left them forever at odds.

Otherwise, the old Chang house could never have remained the one house in Yanjing with one gate and three households under it, when other families split apart early.

Made into mother and daughter-in-law despite being natural foes, the old Chang house's days were forever a flurry of squawking hens and scrambling dogs, each one certain she was the most wronged soul in the world. Of them, the eldest, Bao-shi, with her preening, hateful little mind and her endless little schemes and little sums, won first place on the Chang house's list of irritations.

Great-house ladies, with a knot in the heart, would never show it, so each of them choked on it in silence.

They choked on it until the third son had his chessboard court at Qingfeng, until Bao-shi reached her hand toward Qi Qian'er's side and got, more often than not, a spit in the face and a good hard slap across the cheek. Then the Chang house's spring finally came.

In this world, the little-minded and the little-scheming fear nothing so much as a slap to the face. So the Chang house's three generations of household mistresses all ate a few more bowls that year and put on a good five jin. With Bao-shi taken down a peg, Xia-shi suddenly became the bosom friend the matriarch and the madam shared their private matters with, and Bao-shi's standing in the Chang house fell a thousand zhang. Bit by bit, her word stopped counting for anything.

In this world, there's nothing like sisters-in-law of one house going at each other day in and day out.

Chai-shi showed her goodwill, and Qi Qian'er offered the tea with a smile. "Foster-mother's golden peace, foster-mother's every blessing."

Even if Qi Qian'er had grown up shaped like a pig, Chai-shi would have loved her to death.

Chai-shi took the tea briskly, and rather than sip it, drank it off in one draught. Then she clapped her hands sharply, and four little maids came in together bearing a three-tiered dressing case.

The show of it startled even Qi Qian'er. She thought to herself: the matriarch had just given one case, likely full of head ornaments, and for the foster-mother to give a bracelet, or even pull a hairpin from her own hair, would have broken no rule of rite. That this family could still live under one roof was a wonder, truly.

Chai-shi saw nothing wrong with it, and pointed grandly at the cases: "Daughter-in-law, these your mother made ready for you long ago. Today I give you only a part, and tomorrow when we go the proper rite, your foster-mother will give you plenty more..."

Qi Qian'er dared not let her finish, and rose quickly with a smile. "Many thanks, foster-mother. But where are my two little sisters-in-law?"