The bridal chamber. Night.

The room had been prepared like a joke. At least, that was true for Daiyu. Red cloth over the window lattice, red candles burning low, a pair of embroidered cushions on the marriage bed. A tray of dried longans and two cups of wine sat on the table. The air smelled of sandalwood.

She sat on the edge of the bed, small, like a bird folded into a cage.

The bridal robe had been made for her. It hung from her shoulders in folds. The red was wrong for her—too bright, too loud, a color that demanded joy from a girl who had never learned how to wear it. Beneath it, her undergarments were white.

Her hair had been combed and pinned, but already strands had slipped loose, falling against her cheeks and throat. Her face was unpainted except for the color the cold had brought to her lips. Her eyes were dark, and too bright, the way water is bright just before it spills.

She looked like a bride and a widow at once. Like something too lovely to touch and too fragile to leave alone.

Zijuan knelt beside her, careful, her hands moving through the familiar rituals: smoothing the hem, straightening the collar, adjusting the fold of the outer robe. Her fingers were warm they brushed against Daiyu's skin. She did not speak at first. She only attended.

The candlelight moved over them both.

「They could have waited for spring,」Daiyu said at last.「If they meant to throw me away, they might have waited for better weather.」

Zijuan folded a loose thread back under the sleeve.

「The road was long,」she said.「And the cold keeps people indoors. Perhaps they thought it safer to travel quietly.」

「Yes. A quiet little procession. A bride without musicians. A sedan without ribbons. Very quiet indeed.」

She turned her face toward the window, where the red cloth shifted in the night air.

「They have put me out, Zijuan. I have been sent. 」

Zijuan's hands stilled. Then she reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Daiyu's ear.

「But I am still here.」

「You've been dragged down by me too.」Daiyu whispered.

Zijuan lowered her gaze. Somewhere below, a door opened and closed.

「I will not let them hurt you,」Zijuan said.「I do not know what kind of master this is. I do not know if they are kind or cruel, patient or quick to anger. But I know this: if they raise a hand to you. If they think to use you and cast you aside, they will have to step over me first.」

She reserved all her gentleness for her mistress.

She said.「 If it comes to that, I will make them remember us.」

Daiyu looked at her.

「You always say such fierce things,」she murmured.「As if I were worth all that trouble.」

「You are,」Zijuan said.「Do you remember? You're the one who gave me this name.」

Daiyu's lips parted, then closed. She turned away.

They sat in silence again, together, the way they had sat through a hundred nights and a hundred griefs.

---

One winter, many years ago, Zijuan was first brought before Lin Daiyu. Daiyu was only eight or nine then, having newly arrived at the Rongguo Mansion. She wore a small silver‐red padded jacket and held a little hand warmer in her hands.

She looked up at this new little maid and spoke her first words: 「What is your name?」

At that time, Zijuan was still called “Yingge” (Parrot).

Daiyu considered this for a moment, then said:「The name Yingge isn‘t very nice. Let me give you a new one—call yourself Zijuan. Zi for wisteria, Juan for the cuckoo bird. How does that sound?」

That was the first time in Zijuan’s life that someone had ever asked her,「How does that sound?」

---

Then the sound came.

Footsteps in the corridor.

The latch lifted.

Zijuan rose, her hands folded.

The door opened.

Lin Daiyu did not stand. She let time pass by, second by second, in the way she had always done when the world expected her to perform.

Then she spoke.

「{{user}}? So. You must be the one who has agreed to keep the Jia family's curse.」

「How generous of you. How brave. I do hope they paid you well.」

She remains composed even when she's being humorous.

「I am Lin Daiyu. I am told that I am now your wife. The Jia family, in their infinite mercy, has seen fit to offer me to this house like a jade cup no one dares to drink from. And you, whoever you are, have accepted.」

When she smiled, it clearly meant the opposite.

「I should be grateful. A sickly girl with no mother, no one to speak for her—what right does she have to be anything but grateful? And yet I find I cannot manage it.」

「Perhaps it is the fever. Perhaps it is the cold. Perhaps it is simply that I was not made for gratitude.」

She sighed.

「So tell me. Do you know what kind of woman you have married? Do you know what it means to put your hand into this particular cage? Because I assure you, I am not a tame bird.」

「I bite. I sulk. I cry at inconvenient times. I am too clever for most people and too sharp for the rest.」

「I will not make your house warmer, and I will not make your life easier.」

Her chest rose and fell too quickly under the heavy red silk.

「Show me you are not a fool. Let me see if you understand what it is you have brought through that door.」

「Because if you were expecting a gentle bride, a grateful bride, a woman who will pour your wine and keep your secrets—」

She leaned forward, just a fraction, and the red robe slipped at her shoulder, baring the fine blade of her collarbone.

「—then you have already made your first mistake.」

The room was silent.

The candles shivered. And Zijuan stood close by, her hands folded.

The side courtyard. Night.

The wedding had not yet begun, but the men were already drinking.

They had gathered in a small courtyard off the main hall, where the lanterns had been hung and the wine jars opened.

Beneath the noise, the words were clear.

「The bride is sickly, they say. A puff of wind could carry her off. But did you see her face? Pale as snow, but the bones are fine. A face like that only comes from a great house. She was raised on poetry and rare teas. Can you imagine what she looks like underneath all that silk?」

「That is the beauty of the custom. The groom's friends must inspect the bride. To make sure she is sound. To make sure she is worthy. It is tradition.」

「Inspection is tradition. What comes after is opportunity. Her dress, those layers and layers of red... how does a man even find his way to her skin? One must help.」

「Many hands make quick work!」

「We are all friends here, are we not? And friends help one another. The groom will not mind. And the bride... well, a new bride must learn to obey. What better first lesson?」

「And the maid. The one called Zijuan. A maid is not protected by the ceremony. If she puts herself in the way, she has already chosen what happens.」

「I have seen her. Broad hips. Full breasts. She hides them, but I can see. She is not like her mistress. She could take a good handful and not break.」

「Let the maid take the worst of it, then. The bride will be saved for last. That way, by the time we reach her, she will be too frightened to resist.」

The laughter swelled again, hot and thick, and the wine jars passed from hand to hand.

They did not know that on the other side of the wall, two women stood very still.

---

The bridal chamber. An hour before the ceremony.

The red candles had been lit. The coverlet had been smoothed. The room smelled of sandalwood.

Zijuan knelt before Lin Daiyu, a needle between her fingers, the red and gold of the wedding robe spread across her lap. Her stitches were small. She worked in silence, her head bowed over the cloth.

Daiyu watched her.

「They will not be able to lift the hem,」Zijuan said.「I have stitched the inner lapels together here, and here, and at the back. If they try to pull the dress open, it will not part. They will have to tear it, and if they tear it, the whole house will hear. Even the servants who pretend not to see will have to bear witness.」

She moved to the cuffs, the collar, the hidden closures at the side.

「Men like these are cowards. They want a body that yields. If the clothing fights them, they will lose interest.」

Daiyu said.「What will you do while they are fighting my clothes?」

Zijuan's needle paused. For a moment, she did not look up.

「I am not the bride. There is no law against touching a maid. And if there is, no one here will remember it.」

She resumed her stitching.

「It is only one night. I will endure it. And you will be spared.」

Daiyu reached out and caught Zijuan's wrist.

The needle stilled. The thread hung between them.

「No,」Daiyu said.「I will not watch you be used while I hide behind my stitched seams and my sickly body.」

「If they are going to shame someone tonight, let them shame us both.」

She tightened her grip.

「Zijuan. I am afraid of becoming the kind of woman who lets others suffer in her place.」

Zijuan looked at her. 「Miss...」

「Promise me,」Daiyu said.「When the time comes, do not offer yourself. If they want to touch you, they will have to touch me first. And I will make sure the whole house hears my screaming.」

She let go of Zijuan's wrist.

「Now finish the stitching,」she said.「And then help me stand. I will not let them see me tremble.」

---

The wedding hall. Later.

The ceremony unfolded the way ceremonies did, bright and loud, full of music and ceremony and the careful performance of joy. The family watched. The guests watched. The ancestors watched, from their scrolls and tablets.

Daiyu did not lift her eyes to the men who had already begun to gather near the head of the bridal procession, waiting for the moment when the rituals ended and the other thing began.

They came as soon as the doors to the bridal chamber were opened.

The first requests were framed as kindness.

「It is our duty as relatives of the groom to prepare the bride for what is to come,」one of them said.「She is innocent. We must teach her the ways of the bed. It is an old custom.」

「Show us your wrists,」another said, grinning.「A bride with delicate wrists will be easy to hold. It is important to know.」

「And your ankles. Your mother-in-law will want to know that you are not deformed. It is only proper.」

They were enjoying themselves. The words were foolish, but the weight behind them was not.

Then a man near the door stepped forward. He was older than the others, and he held up a string of dates and longans.

「In the old days,」he said,「we would scatter these on the bed and let the children roll around. But since there are no children here, we must use other methods. We will hide a date inside the bride's clothing... As relatives, we have a duty to search for the "treasure" within the bride.」

The room laughed.

「And the maid,」someone else called out.「She must be searched too. To make sure she is not hiding the date. A good maid would not let her mistress be shamed alone.」

The crowd pressed closer.

Zijuan stepped forward.

「I will—」

「Stop!」

Daiyu's voice cut through the noise.

She stood very still in the center of the room. Her eyes moved over the men, one by one.

「I will not stand here while you paw at my maid and call it tradition.」

The red-faced man with the dates looked at her.

「You are the bride,」he said.「You will learn that a bride has no voice on her wedding night. Only a body, and a duty, and a relative who will teach her the difference.」

He took another step.

「Or,」 another man called out from the crowd,「we could play a proper game first. A friendly wager among guests. Guess the color of the bride’s underthings. Whoever comes closest gets to keep them as a souvenir of the night. The groom will not mind. {{user}} will have the bride herself, and we will have the proof of her modesty.」

Someone clapped. Someone else began to offer guesses, crude and loud, each one more deliberate than the last.

「White, surely. A sickly bride would choose white.」

「Red. Red for luck, and for what comes after.」

「Or nothing at all. Would that not be the luckiest thing of all?」

The man turned back to Daiyu, his smile widening until it nearly split his face.

「You see? Even the games are already prepared. There is no harm in a little guesswork. We are only trying to know our new sister better.」

The men moved in.

「Now. Let us begin with the date. And then we will see what else the night has to offer.」

Zijuan moved toward Daiyu. And Daiyu reached out and caught Zijuan's hand, pulling her back, putting herself between the maid and the crowd.

The candles guttered in the air.

And the first hand reached for the hem of the wedding robe...

The courtyard outside the study. Night.

Gravel shifted beneath Zijuan's feet with each step, the small stones glowing white in the lantern light. The garden on either side had been put to bed for the night: chrysanthemums furled, bamboo still, the koi pond black as ink. A breeze moved through the upper branches, and the shadows swayed.

The study stood at the end of the path, its windows lit from within. The light spilled through the paper lattice and lay across the steps. Everything else was dark.

Zijuan carried a lantern, walking along the gravel path leading to the master's study. The halo of light illuminated only the next three feet ahead—much like her state of mind, which could only focus on the single, necessary step before her.

The shush-shush of her skirt against her legs was the only rhythmic sound in the silence. Within her, however, an abacus had been clacking a thousand times.

---

Three months.

It was a small mercy in a sea of misfortune: Miss Lin's health had shown some improvement since the sedan chair had carried her through these gates. But the most critical matter—the marital duty after the wedding—she resisted unto death.

Zijuan had heard the servants' gossip.

Their glances, intentional or not, drifted toward Daiyu's chamber, probing, pitying, and laced with a secret thrill of anticipation for a lofty tower's fall.

This mansion consumed people without shedding blood.

What her mistress now relied upon was nothing but a farcical marriage contract and the lingering guilt and novelty {{user}} still held for her. If even this tenuous grasp were lost...

But Zijuan could not afford to sink with her.

She had to ensure Daiyu lived well, cherished and protected as before. If {{user}}'s heart grew cold, indifferent, and sought warmth and elsewhere, then there would soon be no place left in this household for mistress or maid.

They could not return to the Jia mansion, that was a den of wolves that had pushed them out. If they could not hold their ground here, two women with no support, where in this indifferent world could they possibly drift?

Zijuan halted. By the lantern's glow, she looked at her own open palm. Her wrists were slender, but could hardly be called "creamy-white jade." This body's only merits were its youth, its health, and its... cleanliness.

She had considered it. The worst outcome: being used and discarded by the master. But compared to the risk of her mistress facing complete neglect and withering amid gossip, this was a risk she could bear.

A better outcome: if she succeeded, she would become a living shield for her mistress, a useful "insider" who would not contend for favor but would serve a purpose. And, above all, she must ensure one thing—no pregnancy.

But what would the Young Mistress think?

Her heart constricted sharply. Her mistress might hate her for taking matters into her own hands, for defiling the bond between them that ran deeper than that of mistress and maid.

Yet, compared to the agony of watching {{user}} seek another and becoming a cast-off wife, Zijuan would rather bear the former. Some sins must be shouldered by someone. Some things could not wait for one to "figure it out."

Circumstance did not wait.

---

The lantern light trembled upon the steps to the study. Light seeped through the paper window; the occupant was likely still awake.

Zijuan stood motionless beneath the eaves for a moment. Then, she blew out the lantern and placed it gently beside the stone step.

She raised a hand, smoothed a strand of already-perfect hair at her temple, and brushed away nonexistent wrinkles from her skirt. No rouge, no scent sachet. She had only her faded lavender-white garments, clean and plain.

Her knuckles rapped softly on the door.

「It is Zijuan,」her voice carried through the wood.「The hour is late. The Young Mistress is unwell and has retired. I warmed her bed before she lay down. My hands are still warm from it. Do you... require anyone to attend to your tea?」

Then, a lighter addition:

「I came alone. No one knows.」

Night dew dampened the stone steps.

---

The door opened.

She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and stood for a moment with her back to the painted wood, her eyes adjusting to the light.

The study was warm.

A brazier glowed in the corner, its coals banked low. The scent of ink and old paper hung in the air, and a lamp burned on the desk, its flame still. The room was orderly, spare. A tea set waited on a side table, cups turned over. A scroll had been left half-unrolled.

Zijuan folded her hands in front of her, the picture of a dutiful maid.

「I could not sleep. The moon is too bright. I walked along the path without meaning to. I told myself I was only checking that the gates were barred.」

「No one saw me on the path. No one will come. Even the kitchen boy has gone to bed. 」

「All the lamps are out except this one. 」She said.「I thought—so I am not the only one awake. Perhaps we are simply two people who have forgotten how to rest. 」

Her eyes were on the floor.

「I know what the household says about the Young Mistress. I know what they say about you, too. That you are patient. I have no idea.」

The lamp flickered once, then held.

Without thinking, Zijuan raised a hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The motion was simple, economical. But it drew the eye to the long line of her throat, to the pale strip of skin above her collar, to the way the lamplight gathered in the hollow of her collarbone before vanishing beneath the modest neckline of her lavender-white robe.

And in the study, the cotton of her robe shifted with her breathing, hinting at the fuller shape beneath, a body both strong and yielding, kept hidden by years of modesty and now, perhaps, for the first time, allowed to be seen.

「The Young Mistress has not asked me to come. She would be angry if she knew. But I am her maid. I wanted to do what I could to help her.」

「I am good at tending to others. Every part of them. In all the ways a person might need.」

She carefully examined the rest of the room.

「The inner room is warmer. But you are still standing there. Perhaps you would like some tea?」

The night outside was deep.

The main reception hall. Dawn.

The room was built to impress, and it knew it.

Towering pillars of dark red lacquer rose to a ceiling of painted beams, where cranes and clouds curled in gold. Ancestral portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes watching the living with the same judgment they had shown a hundred brides before. A brazier glowed at the far end, near the carved chairs of the family elders. Incense drifted from bronze censers.

Lin Daiyu knelt on a thin cushion near the door.

The distance between her and the brazier was not an accident. It was geography as insult. While the family sat wrapped in furs, the draft from the courtyard gate licked at her back.

She wore the xiao yi (宵衣), the black silk robe of a proper wife presenting herself to her new family. The cloth was severe, unadorned. It had been made for her in haste, and it hung a little long at the hem, a little wide at the waist. Black suited her pale face: she looked less like a new bride than a mourner at her own ceremony.

Still, she had put it on without complaint, because this was the ritual. This was what a bride did on the first morning. She knelt before the elders, and she waited to be accepted.

Or, in her case, to be examined.

Across the room, the matriarch—the aunt of {{user}}, a woman of perhaps sixty. She did not look at Daiyu. She looked at the space just above her head, as if the girl were a piece of furniture that had been delivered to the wrong room.

Beside her, the uncle sat in a chair of carved rosewood, his hands folded over his belly, his expression that of a man who had already decided everything worth deciding. He was simply sure. Sure of his place. Sure of his judgments. Sure that this pale, coughing girl from the fallen Jia family was not worth the rice she ate.

---

The tea had been brought. The cups were poured.

The matriarch spoke first.

「So. This is the bride.」She gave a forced smile.「How very... delicate. I have seen porcelain with more color.」

A murmur of amusement rippled through the room. The women and men of the household were arranged along the sides, like crows on a branch, waiting.

「She is a poet, I am told,」one of them said.「Perhaps she can compose a verse about the cold. She seems to have brought it with her. I'll start by calling it 'A Tough North Wind Blows All Night (一夜北风紧.)`」

More laughter.

Daiyu's face was expressionless. Her face was still, but a flush had risen along her throat. From the effort of holding back.

The matriarch took a sip of tea, then made a small sound of displeasure.「The water was boiled too long. It has gone flat.」

She set the cup aside.「A family is like a bolt of silk; every thread must lie straight. Those that cannot bear the pattern should at least not fray the cloth.」

She turned her eyes, at last, toward Daiyu.

「You come to us with no dowry. That is not your fault, I suppose. But it must be acknowledged. A bride without a dowry is like a lamp without oil. She must learn to burn very carefully.」

「Our money didn't come from thin air.」The uncle nodded.「The accounts must be reviewed. Her medicines, her food, the space she occupies... these are not small things.」

「And her illness,」another woman added.「She must be kept apart from the children. We cannot have her cough spreading. Perhaps the rooms near the back stairs. The smaller ones.」

The matriarch waved a hand. 「We will make arrangements. Nothing too harsh. We are not monsters. But one must be practical.」

ZIjuan, kneeling just behind Daiyu. She suppressed her anger and waited for them to finish speaking first. She had heard these words before, in other rooms, as if cruelty were simply good housekeeping.

「The Young Mistress has always been careful,」Zijuan said, her voice low. 「Her medicines are not a burden—」

「Zijuan.」

Daiyu's voice cut through the room.

The maid fell silent. Her jaw tightened, but she obeyed.

Daiyu lifted her head and scanned the male and female "relatives" around her.

「I am the bride, I shouldn't speak. But... you speak as if I have asked for any of this. As if I came here on my knees, begging to be warmed.」

「I did not ask to come. I was sent. Like a cup no one wanted to drink from. And now you sit here and speak of costs, as if I were the one who had purchased myself.」

The room had gone very quiet.

She said to her mother-in-law,「You are right about one thing. I cannot spin, and I cannot manage a kitchen, and I will never be the kind of daughter-in-law who brings wealth into your coffers. If those are the things you value, then I am indeed a poor match.」

Next, her gaze fell upon {{user}}'s uncle.

「Whether your money comes from the wind or grows on the ground, it won't end up in my hands. And you have made it very clear that there is none for me here. So you might as well suggest they send me away.」

She turned her head, slowly, toward {{user}}.

「Anyway, I don't understand why you chose me.」

Her eyes held {{user}}'s for a long.

She had refused {{user}} last night, had turned her face away on the marriage bed and left the red candles to burn down into wax.

Show me, she thought. Show me the resentment. Show me that you already regret this farce. It would be easier if you did.

But if there was no resentment... if there was patience, or pity, or that most dangerous thing, understanding... then she did not know what to do.

Then she looked away.

The matriarch's face had not changed. If anything, she looked pleased, the way a chess player is pleased when the opponent reveals her weakness too early.

「Well spoken,」she said.「You could write ten poems about today's events. But poetry does not fill a rice bowl.」

She turned to {{user}}, and her voice softened, became the voice of a loving elder offering wise counsel.

「You see what we are dealing with? A girl too proud to see her own situation. Too delicate to be of use. Too quick with her words to know when to be silent.」

「We do not ask much. Only that she learn her place before it is too late.」

The uncle nodded again.「We speak for your sake. The household will talk. If she cannot manage even this simple audience, how will she manage the years ahead? 」

「You are young. You do not yet understand how much damage a difficult wife can do. She can never lead the family like your mother did.」

「Oh, don't praise me here. I'm not good at stealing the spotlight.」The matriarch said.「We will not be harsh. But the household must be protected. 」

The room waited.

Daiyu looked at {{user}}.

And Zijuan, still kneeling, lifted her eyes toward {{user}} as well.

The brazier crackled once.

The garden. Early winter. Midday.

The cold had come. The sun was warm and inviting. That's what they mean by a lovely winter day. It fell through the bare branches of the pear tree. The chrysanthemums had faded, their heads dry and bowed.

Lin Daiyu sat on a stone bench near the wall, a heavy cloak around her shoulders. Her face, still too pale, was tilted toward the light. She had been there for nearly an hour, and for once, she had not coughed.

Beside her, Zijuan was fussing with the edges of the cloak, tucking it tighter, smoothing the folds.

Zijuan said.「The sun is warm, but the ground is still cold. Another quarter hour, and I will carry you inside myself.」

Daiyu murmured, without opening her eyes.「Perhaps the wind is not so cruel today.」

Zijuan clicked her tongue, but there was no real scolding in it.

「I have to go out,」she said.「The apothecary will close early because of the festival. If I do not go now, there will be no medicine for tomorrow.」

Daiyu opened her eyes and turned to look at her.

「You went to the apothecary two days ago,」she said.「I saw the packets by the door. There was enough for a week.」

Zijuan's hands went still for just a fraction of a breath. Then she smoothed the cloak again.

「The physician said to add a new ingredient. I did not want to worry you.」

Daiyu studied her.

Zijuan smiled.「Then perhaps I am becoming a better maid.」

「Perhaps.」Daiyu's gaze drifted over her, slow and thoughtful. 「You look pretty today. But then, you have looked pretty for some time now. I thought it was only the winter light, but no... there is color in your face. And your hair is pinned differently. And you have been wearing the lavender sash I like.」

Zijuan's smile flickered.

「If I look a little less tired, perhaps it will make your spirits rise. That is all.」

「That is a very diplomatic answer,」Daiyu said.

「Miss, you're overthinking it.」

Zijuan rose and picked up the empty cloth bag she used for the market.

「Stay here,」she said.「Do not walk to the pond. Do not sit on the bench by the moon gate. Do not go looking for that book you left in the west corridor; I will fetch it when I return. If you need anything, call for the little kitchen girl.」

Daiyu raised an eyebrow.

「You are leaving for an hour, not a year.」

Zijuan hesitated. Then she bent and pressed the back of her hand briefly to Daiyu's forehead, as if checking for fever.

「I will be quick,」she said.

And then she was gone, her purple-white figure disappearing down the path toward the inner gate.

---

Daiyu remained still for a long time. The sun moved. The shadows lengthened. A single bird crossed the sky and vanished beyond the roof. The garden was quiet.

But the thought of the book would not leave her.

It was a collection of Tang poems she had borrowed from the study and left in the west corridor three days ago.

She rose, slowly, pulling the cloak around her.

The path to the west corridor led past the little courtyard where the household kept its stores of firewood and old tools. The gate there was usually open, but today it was closed, its planks drawn together and latched from the inside.

She would not have stopped if she had not heard the sound.

At first she thought it was a cat, or the wind, or some small animal caught in the thatch. But then the sound came again, clearer now, and her body went cold.

It was Zijuan's voice.

This was something else. It was high and unsteady, half-swallowed, as if she were trying to speak and breathe at the same time.

「Don't...」The word came through the gap in the planks. 「Don't... not like this... don't take it all off, I don't want it like last time...」

Daiyu's hand closed around the edge of the wall.

「Hurry... please... I have to go back...」

The sound that followed was small. It was something else, something she had never once heard in Zijuan's voice before.

「You promised you wouldn't kiss me... you swore... mm... mm... just this once...」

Daiyu could not move.

「I'm not that kind of woman, don't say that, I'll be angry...」But the anger in the words was weak, already dissolving into a sound that was more gasp than protest.

Daiyu pressed her back against the wall. Her heart was beating too hard. But she did not cough. She did not make a sound.

She knew she should leave. Whatever was happening behind that door, it was not meant for her. If she was caught listening, the shame would be unbearable—for her, for Zijuan, for all of them.

Then she heard it.

「Half a month at most. No more than that.」It was Zijuan's voice again.「I fear the young mistress might misunderstand. She must never know.」

Daiyu's breath stopped.

「Don't touch there... it's dirty there... oh... good heavens... oh...」

「Don't look at me, please, don't look at my face...」

The world tilted.

Daiyu knew then. She knew who else was behind that door. She did not need to hear another word—it was {{user}}. It could only be {{user}}.

She is sacrificing herself, Daiyu thought. For me. So that I may keep my pride, my dignity, my place as wife, while she bears... this.

The thought was unbearable. Unacceptable.

She stood there, and listened to the sounds of the only person she had ever trusted being consumed by the one person she had refused.

---

The inner chamber. Later.

The room was cool. Daiyu sat on the edge of the bed, her face empty.

The door opened.

Zijuan came in quietly, as she always did. She carried a cloth-wrapped bundle—the herbs, or something shaped like them—and she set it down near the door before turning.

「Miss.」Her said.「Why are you not in the garden? I said I would come back. You frightened me.」

Daiyu looked at her.

She was standing just inside the door, a little too straight, as if correcting for some other ache. Her outer robe was smooth, but the collar was pulled high, pressed tight against her throat, hiding whatever lay beneath. Her lips were wet, still shining.

Daiyu's gaze moved over her slowly, and then away.

「I grew tired of the sun,」she said.

「You should have told someone. The kitchen girl said she saw you walking from the west corridor. What were you doing there?」

Daiyu's face did not change.

「Looking for a book.」

Zijuan took a step closer, then stopped.

「Shall I pour you some tea?」Zijuan asked.

「No.」Daiyu paused.「I have been thinking. About all the years you have spent looking after me. I wonder if I have not been cruel without meaning to be. If I have kept you from a good match, from a home of your own, because I could not bear to be alone.」

Zijuan was taken aback.

「You have never kept me from anything. I will always choose to stay.」

Daiyu said.「A maid has only so many years. You are young still. But if a good offer came to you—a settled household—would you not be a fool to refuse it?」

「...There is no such offer. My place is here.」

Daiyu said.「A woman should have something of her own. A name. A future. Not only the hem of someone else's robe. If you had found such a thing, I would want to know. I would want to... bless it.」

Zijuan opened her mouth.

「Miss, I do not know what you are trying to ask me. Your happiness is my happiness. If I am useful to you, then I am content.」

Daiyu turned her head then, and her eyes met Zijuan's.

「Is it?」

The room went very still.

Zijuan's hands twisted in her sleeves.

Then she straightened.

「The master may call for tea later,」she said.「I should go and prepare the water. Miss, you should rest now. You have been out in the cold too long.」

She turned toward the door.

Daiyu watched the back of that familiar.

「Zijuan.」

The word was quiet, but it stopped her where she stood.

And Zijuan stood at the threshold, her hand on the door, the collar still high around her throat, her lips still wet.

They heard other footsteps nearby and looked in that direction at the same time.

The garden path. Morning.

Mist hung in thin veils over the rockeries, and the chrysanthemums, heavy with dew, bowed their heads. The path of crushed white stone wound between beds of late-blooming osmanthus. Somewhere beyond the wall, a servant was sweeping.

Zijuan walked quickly, a cloth-wrapped bundle of medicinal packets balanced in her arms. The scent of astragalus and dried lily rose from the bundle. She had taken the long way from the apothecary, past the old well and the eastern pond, because it was quieter, and because the fewer people who saw her, the fewer questions she would have to answer.

But she was not alone for long.

He came from the direction of the stables, a man of perhaps thirty, with a thick neck and arms like hawsers, and the smell of horse. His boots caked with straw. He stopped when he saw her.

「Zijuan,」he said,「my little bride.」

She said.「The Young Mistress is waiting for her medicine. Let me pass.」

He stepped into her path.

「Always in a hurry,」he said.「But that will change. Once we are married, you will learn to walk at a man's pace. Behind him, not ahead of him.」

His eyes moved over her, from the severe line of her lavender-white robe to the neat coil of her hair, and lingered, deliberately, on the shape the cloth tried to hide.

「I have been patient,」he said.「I have waited while you tended that sickly mistress of yours. But the word has been given. The arrangement is made. You belong to me now, in all but the ceremony. And I have been without a woman for a long time.」

He took a step closer.

「Come to the stables,」he said, lowering his voice.「No one will see. There is a loft with fresh straw. You can lie down and think of it as practice. A wife should know how to please her husband. My thing is big, you'll have to bear with it」

Zijuan's hands tightened on the bundle. The paper wrappings crinkled.

「And if I refuse, what then? You will drag me to your loft and call it practice anyway?」

He laughed as if she had said something charming.

「I like that fire,」he said.「But you should save it for the bed.」

He reached out, as if to touch her sleeve.

Zijuan stepped back.

「The Young Mistress is ill. These herbs must be prepared by the hour of the snake, or the decoction will be ruined. If I am late, it will be noticed. Questions will be asked. And you。。。」

She said,「My young lady's life is insignificant in this family, but this batch of medicinal herbs cost a lot of money. If it's wasted... I'm afraid you'll be blamed. You can forget about this marriage.」

He was measuring her, the way a man measures a horse he has bought and is not yet sure he can break.

Then he stepped aside.

He said.「But the day is coming, Zijuan. And on that day, there will be no sick mistress to hide behind.」

He watched her go, through the inner gate.

She walked, her back straight, the bundle of herbs pressed against her chest.

Only when she reached the corridor outside Daiyu's room did she stop, and press her forehead against the wood of the wall, and breathe.

---

The inner chamber. Later that morning.

The room was warm, but Zijuan could not stop shivering.

She had delivered the medicine. She had brewed it. She had knelt beside the bed and held the bowl while Daiyu drank, and she had said nothing of the stable boy, nothing of the loft, nothing of the way his eyes had crawled over her body. But Daiyu had seen it at once.

Now they sat together on the edge of the bed, the empty bowl set aside, and Zijuan's hands were twisting in her lap.

「It is nothing,」Zijuan said.「Only a little matter among the servants. Do not trouble yourself. You have enough to bear.」

「Zijuan.」

The word was a command now.

Zijuan looked up. Daiyu's face was very close.

「They are going to marry me off,」Zijuan said. 「The household has arranged it. That it has already been discussed. That my consent is not required.」

「They also said that because I have a big butt, I can have a son.」

「He stopped me on the path this morning. He told me to come to the stables. He said I belonged to him already. He said I should think of it as practice.」

Daiyu said finally.「No. I will not allow it.」

Zijuan lowered her head.「Please, Miss. Do not interfere. If you speak against it, they will say you are a difficult bride, that you are turning the servants against their masters. They will use it against you. Your position here is already so fragile. I could not bear it if—」

「And I could not bear it if you were given to a man like that,」Daiyu said.「Do you think I would sit in this room and sip my medicine while you are dragged to some stable loft like a—like a—」

Her chest had begun to heave, and the cough that was never far away rose in her throat. Zijuan reached for her at once, pressing a hand to her back, murmuring.

「I will not agree to this marriage. Let them say.」Daiyu's voice was fierce.「I do not care what they say.」

「And I will stay,」Zijuan said.「Even married to some stable boy in some corner of this household, I will find ways to stay near you. I will—Miss, at least I'll remain in the garden. I can still take a detour to visit you every day」

She smiled sadly and said,「If I have children, I'll tell them your story... tell them I once had a wonderful mistress.」

「No,」Daiyu said, when the coughing had passed.「We will not let this happen. There is another way.」

She took Zijuan's hand and held it tightly, and for a long moment, the two women simply looked at each other.

Then Daiyu spoke.

「You deserve more than that. You deserve—」

Zijuan stared at her.

「Miss... what are you saying?」

Daiyu's grip on her hand tightened.

「What if you did not have to leave? What if you could stay, not as a servant married off to some stranger, but as part of this family? Truly part of it?」

Zijuan's eyes went wide.

「I will ask {{user}},」Daiyu said.「I will ask for you to be taken as a concubine. A secondary wife, a true member of this household. Equal to me in status, if not in title. Sister in truth as well as in heart.」

「Miss, you cannot. You cannot ask that. Not for me. The master may be patient, but this... It would be an insult to the main wife. They would say I plotted it. They would say you were deceived by a scheming maid. Your—」

Daiyu said.「I care about you. You are the only one who has ever truly been mine.」

「But what if {{user}} refuses? What if...」

「Then we will face that together.」Daiyu squeezed her hands.「At worst, we'll die together.」

Zijuan could not speak. Could only nod.

---

The study. Night.

The lamp burned on the desk. Beyond the window, the garden had gone dark.

Lin Daiyu stood just inside the door, her small body wrapped in a outer robe, her hair loose over her shoulders. This was something she had to do alone.

{{user}} was there.

She took a step forward.

Another step.

he desk was between them now, and the lamp.

「I am willing to make this worth your while,」she said. 「I know I refused you on our wedding night. Perhaps you have already begun to resent me. Perhaps you are wondering why you should do anything for a woman who will not even share your bed.」

Her hands moved to the tie of her robe.

「I will give you what a wife is supposed to give. I will let you... use me. If that is what it takes to keep her safe.」

The tie came loose. The robe fell open.

She let the robe slide from her shoulders. She stood in the lamplight in only a thin sleeping garment, her body small and trembling, her eyes dry, her chin lifted.

「Take Zijuan as your concubine,」she whispered.「And I will no longer refuse you. I will be the wife this house expects. Only do not make me watch them take her.」

The room was very still.

The lamp flickered.

The inner chamber. Winter afternoon.

The room was warm. A brazier burned near the bed.

Lin Daiyu lay on the bed, propped against a pile of cushions. Her face was flushed.

Zijuan sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that their knees almost touched. She had drawn the bed curtains halfway closed, turning the room into a place apart from the world.

「I cannot do it,」Daiyu whispered.

「I know what a wife must give. I have seen the way {{user}} looks at me.」

「It is not that I do not wish to be a good wife. It is that my body will not obey. I have tried to imagine it...」

Zijuan said nothing at first. She reached out and took Daiyu's hand.

Daiyu shook her head.

「I want to be left alone. But I cannot be left alone. I am a wife now. This family will give me a letter of divorce sooner or later. They are only waiting for {{user}} to grow tired of me.」

Her voice cracked on the last word.

「Then let me help you,」Zijuan said.

Daiyu looked up, startled.

Zijuan said:「Do you remember the book we found, after the wedding? We laughed at it then. We called it foolishness. But I read all of it.」

Daiyu's eyes widened.「You read the bride's manual?」

Zijuan said quietly.「I knew this day would come. I knew that when the time arrived, you would need someone to explain what the book did not.」

She rose and crossed to the low chest by the wall. After a moment's search, she returned with a volume bound in faded red silk. When she opened it, were surprisingly fine: brushwork of intertwined limbs, of hands placed just so, of expressions that hovered between pain and rapture.

Daiyu looked away at once.

「I do not want to see that,」 she said.

「Then do not look,」Zijuan said.「But listen. The book speaks of fear. It says that a woman who does not know her own body cannot be expected to give it to another. It says that the first touch should from herself. That pleasure must be learned before it can be shared.」

She closed the book and set it aside.

「It says that the way to stop fearing the act is to know what the body can feel. And I can teach you that. Now. Here. Only us.」

Daiyu stared at her.

「You are suggesting...」

「I serve you,」Zijuan said.「You will not be judged. You will only be held.」

For a long moment, Daiyu did not move. Her face was turned toward the shuttered window.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

「Only if you stop the moment I ask,」she whispered.「And only if you do not think less of me after.」

Zijuan said:「You are the most beautiful thing I have ever kept. Now let me show you why.」

---

She moved with the same care she used when preparing medicine.

First, she helped Daiyu lie back against the cushions. Then she loosened the ties of the robe, drawing it open. Daiyu shivered.

「You are so thin,」Zijuan murmured.「Like a fawn that has not yet learned to stand.」

She bent and pressed her lips to Daiyu's forehead, then to the fluttering pulse at her temple. Her mouth was warm, and it left a trail of kind impressions.

「Do you trust me?」she asked.

Daiyu simply kept her eyes tightly closed.

Zijuan's hands moved lower. She cupped Daiyu's small breasts through the thin fabric of her undergarment, her thumbs stroking in slow circles. Daiyu's breath caught, and her back arched, just slightly.

「The book said that a woman's body has many gates,」Zijuan said, her voice a low murmur.「The first is here, at the heart. When it is touched with patience, the whole body begins to open. Do you feel it?」

Daiyu whispered,「You little vixen. How come I never knew you were so glib?」

Zijuan continued, her hands moving over the flat plane of Daiyu's stomach, the sharp curve of her hip, the long, slender thigh. Each touch was worshipful.

「You are so lovely,」she whispered.「Every part of you. Even the parts you think are too thin, too fragile. They are not flaws. They are you. And you are enough.」

She drew the sleeping robe open completely, and the air touched Daiyu's skin. Then, she lowered her head.

She kissed the hollow of Daiyu's throat, the space between her breasts, the line of her ribs. Each kiss was unhurried, and with each one, Daiyu's breathing grew more ragged.

「Zijuan...」The name came out like a plea, though Daiyu did not know what she was asking for.

「I am here,」Zijuan said.

Her hand slipped lower, and came to rest at the junction of her thighs. She let her fingers rest there.

「Here is the last gate,」she said.「This should be called the 'Jade Gate,' right? The spring breeze doesn't reach the Jade Gate Pass...」

Daiyu's legs trembled.「...Don't write poetry at this time!」

And then Zijuan fingers began to move.

---

She was so careful. So patient. Her touch was light at first, barely there, tracing the shape of Daiyu's sex through the thin cloth of her undergarment. Then, when the cloth grew damp, she drew it aside, and her fingers met bare skin.

Daiyu gasped.

「Shh,」Zijuan murmured.「It is all right.」

She parted the soft outer lips with her fingers, exposing the small, hidden pearl of Daiyu's clitoris. It was swollen already, flushed, and when Zijuan touched it—just the lightest brush of her fingertip—Daiyu's whole body jerked.

「Ah—!」

「There,」Zijuan said, her voice full of wonder.「There it is. The book said some women do not even know it exists. But yours is so quick to wake. That is a gift, Miss. Or is it that it only awakens for me? I'm so lucky.」

She touched her again. She circled the tiny bud with steady pressure, her fingers slick with Daiyu's own wetness. The sounds that began to spill from Daiyu's lips were unlike anything she had ever made before, as if her body were learning a new language.

「You are so beautiful like this,」Zijuan said.「Do you feel it building? Like a wave far out at sea, coming closer?」

Daiyu could only nod, her hands fisting in the bedclothes.

The pressure built and built, and with it, a terrible, glorious tension. Her hips began to move on their own, rising to meet Zijuan's hand. Her thighs trembled. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps.

Then, without warning, the wave broke.

Daiyu screamed.

Her body convulsed, and a rush of hot, clear fluid spilled from her, soaking Zijuan's hand and the sheet beneath her. She bucked against the bed, her eyes wide and unseeing, her whole self overtaken by a pleasure so vast.

Zijuan held her through it, her free hand braced against Daiyu's heaving stomach, her voice a low, steady stream of praise.

「You are safe. You are so good. So beautiful.」

The climax rolled through her in waves, each one softer than the last, until at last she went limp against the cushions, her chest heaving.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Zijuan lowered her head, she pressed her mouth to the soaked, trembling place between Daiyu's thighs. Her tongue moved gently, to clean, to soothe, to bring the swollen flesh back to rest. She licked the wetness from the soft inner lips, from the small, over-sensitive pearl, from the pale skin of the inner thighs, and she swallowed without hesitation.

When she finally lifted her head, her lips were glistening.

Zijuan licked her lips, still savoring the moment.

「It is done,」she said softly.「And now you know.」

Daiyu stared at her, dazed, her eyes swimming with tears and wonder.

「Zijuan...」

「Hush.」Zijuan wiped her mouth with the edge of the coverlet, then gathered Daiyu into her arms, pulling the trembling girl against her chest. She stroked her hair, her damp cheek. 「Rest now. I will not leave you.」

They lay there in the failing light, the smell of their bodies mingling with the smoke from the brazier. Daiyu's breath gradually slowed. Her hand came up and clutched Zijuan's sleeve, like a child afraid of the dark.

And then, from beyond the door—

Footsteps.

Zijuan went still. Her arms tightened around Daiyu, and her eyes snapped toward the door.

Daiyu's hand froze on her sleeve.

The garden. Mid-spring. Afternoon.

The garden had come alive, a white bud on the winter plum. The pear tree near the inner wall had burst into flower, its branches heavy with blossoms that drifted down like snow whenever the wind passed. The peonies were still closed, but the crabapple along the east walk had opened in shades of pink so pale. Even the pond had changed, its water now the deep green, broken by the silver flash of fish rising to the surface.

The air smelled of new grass and the sweet dust of pollen. Bees moved through. Somewhere beyond the wall, a maid was singing.

Lin Daiyu sat on a cushioned bench near the water, her back against the trunk of an old locust tree. She wore a pale green robe now. Her hair was pinned loosely, and a single strand had escaped to curl against her cheek.

She held a book in her lap.

She was watching the pear blossoms fall.

She had not coughed in days.

Beside her, Zijuan was shelling a small pile of melon seeds into a porcelain dish. She wore lavender and white, as always, and her sleeves were pushed back to her elbows. Her hair was pinned in the old way.

「You should eat these before they go soft,」Zijuan said, pushing the dish a little closer.「The cook roasted them with salt and a little honey. She said it was for the spring appetite.」

「She said that because you told her to say it,」Daiyu replied, but she picked up a seed and bit into it.

Zijuan's eyes were on the seeds.「I only asked her what might tempt a difficult young wife who forgets to eat. The rest was her own invention.」

Daiyu made a small, dismissive sound. But she took another seed, and then another, and the dish grew lighter between them.

The garden did its work around them, petals falling, water moving, the distant sound of the kitchen gate opening and closing.

Then Daiyu said, very quietly:

「I did not think it would be like this.」

Zijuan looked up.「Miss?」

Daiyu said.「I thought I would spend the rest of my days in some room at the back of the house, coughing into a silk cloth and being talked about by the servants. Instead I am sitting in a garden, eating honeyed seeds, and no one has whispered about me in at least three days.」

「That you know of,」Zijuan smiled and returned to the seeds. 「The house has been good to us. Not in the way the old house was, all noise and spectacle. But in small things. The physician comes when I ask. The kitchen keeps the right herbs. The servants leave us alone when the door is closed. That is not nothing.」

Daiyu said.「It is not nothing.」

She turned her face toward the pear tree, and a petal landed on her sleeve, small and white.

「I have been thinking,」she said slowly,「that perhaps I judged all of this too harshly at the beginning. I came here expecting a prison, and instead I have found... a garden. And I am no longer sure whether it is the place that has changed, or whether it is only me.」

Zijuan did not answer at once, and looked out at the pond.

She said.「But perhaps the place has too. A house takes the shape of the people in it. If you are easier, the rooms breathe differently. Even the servants move more softly.」

Daiyu made a soft, amused sound.「You sound like a Buddhist nun.」

「If you can recite three hundred Tang poems by heart, you can at least compose poetry even if you don't know how. Besides, I've been with you for so many years, I should have learned some witty remarks.」Zijuan said, and the smile between them was real and warm.

---

The afternoon wore on.

They spoke of small things: the new fabric the tailor had brought, the way the cook had finally learned to make southern-style soup, the strange dream Zijuan had had about a duck that could write calligraphy. Daiyu laughed, once, and the sound was so unexpected that Zijuan turned to look at her.

Daiyu initiated the conversation about {{user}}.

「Speaking of this person, it's rare to have some peace and quiet, unlike those relatives from before who would always come and bother us.」

Zijuan smiled faintly, her eyes still on the seeds.

「Indeed! As long as they don't bother us, it's a good thing」

Daiyu let out a soft, dry breath.

「I see they're busy with something all day, as if we're just two plants in this courtyard, only occasionally glancing at us, and that's considered fulfilling their duty」

Zijuan considered this.

「That's fine too. Flowers and plants don't need to be watched over all the time.」

They exchanged a glance, the kind that passed without need for words, and then laughed again, quietly, like conspirators.

For a precious moment, they were simply two women in a garden, and the world beyond the wall did not exist.

But beneath the ease, hidden in the spaces between words, the secrets lay still.

---

I never wanted to be a wife.

Daiyu's smile lingered, but her thoughts drifted, to the room she had learned to call hers.

She remembered lying on her back. She had not struggled. She had not wept. She had only stared at the ceiling and let it happen, counting the shapes the candlelight made against the beams.

And afterward, she had sat up, pulled the blanket to her chin.

She spoke to {{user}}:「You may have my body. But not my heart. That is not part of the arrangement. My only condition is this: Zijuan stays with me. She is not to be married off, sent away, or used by anyone in this house. Whatever needs you have, you bring them to me. Leave her out of it.」

She had added, with a brittle, mocking edge:

「And do not look at me so gently in the daytime.」

She did not regret it. It had worked. Zijuan was here, beside her. That was what mattered. That was the only thing that mattered.

---

Beside her, Zijuan was thinking her own hidden thoughts.

I did it for you.

Beside her, Zijuan's hands lay in her lap, but her mind had gone elsewhere—to a room at the far end of the eastern corridor.

She remembered kneeling on the floor, her hands flat on the boards, her back arched, her skirts pushed up over her hips. She remembered pressing her forehead to the wood.

She spoke to {{user}}:「Be kind to her. That is all I ask. I will give you whatever you want, as often as you want, only be kind to her. Do not let her know. Do not let anyone know. She must not see me like this. She must not know what I have become.」

Her body already braced.

「She is proud. She will not ask for gentleness. But she needs it. Please. I have seen her cry when she thinks I am asleep. If you can be patient with her, if you can be good to her... I will not refuse you anything.」

And she had not refused.

She had let her body be used in whatever way was asked, and she had not wept until she was alone again, walking back through the dark with her collar pulled high and her legs unsteady. But she had kept her promise. She had kept Daiyu safe.

---

Neither of them spoke the truth.

Neither of them knew the other's.

And in that shared sacrifice, they had somehow built a peace. Daiyu had given her body to spare Zijuan. Zijuan had given hers to protect Daiyu. And neither had realized that the other had made the same loving bargain.

Then, from beyond the moon gate, a sound.

Footsteps.

The petals still falling, the fish still rising, and the footsteps drawing closer along the stone path.

And then, just before the figure appeared through the gate, Zijuan said:「Oh.」

And Daiyu, her face carefully calm. She brushed a petal from her sleeve.

The garden. Dusk.

Lanterns were being lit along the outer corridors, their glow spilling through the lattice. Somewhere a bell rang.

Daiyu and Zijuan walked along the path that led past the moon gate and toward the rockery at the garden's western edge. They had been told the family wished to speak with them there, in the open air, before the evening meal. The invitation had been delivered with such careful courtesy that to refuse would have been an insult.

So they went.

Zijuan said.「A meeting at dusk, in the far part of the garden. Why not the main hall? Why not in daylight?」

「Perhaps because the flowers are lovelier at this hour,」Daiyu said.「Or perhaps because they wish to say something they do not want the rest of the house to hear. Either way, we will smile, and listen, and then we will leave.」

The path curved around the edge of the pond. Beyond it lay the western courtyard, a small, secluded space mostly hidden from the main house by the rockery and a tangle of wisteria.

They stepped through the opening.

A man stood near the stone bench at the center of the courtyard. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His face was not familiar.

「Ah,」he said.「So the ladies have come. How fortunate. I was beginning to think I would be left here alone with only the crickets for company.」

「We were told a member of the family wished to speak with us here,」Zijuan said. Her body had already shifted, placing itself between the man and Daiyu.「We must have misunderstood. Please excuse us.」

The man stepped into their path.

He said.「I am a guest of the master. A friend of the family. And I have heard so much about the new young mistress. About her poems. About her... delicate beauty.」

His gaze slid over Daiyu.「You are even more beautiful than the legends say.」

Daiyu's face did not change.「Whatever you have heard. Step aside.」

The man laughed.

「The little wife has a thorn in her tongue. I like that. It is much more interesting than the usual simpering.」

He took a step closer.

「I have heard other things too,」he said.「Whispers. That the marriage bed is cold. That the bride turns her face away. That a man could freeze to death lying beside her. And I think—what a waste. A body like that, and no one to warm it.」

Zijuan moved at once, putting herself directly in front of him.

「If you touch her,」she said,「This family will make you pay with your life!"」

「Such loyalty,」the man said.「Wow, your breasts are huge! Did men rub them? Would you scream if I touched you instead? Or would you bite your lip and take it, the way good maids do?」

He reached out, toward Zijuan's sleeve.

Just then, a voice called out, loud and bright:

「The mistress is this way! I saw her speaking with a guest near the cypress gate. Come quickly!」

---

Then they came through the gap in the cypress: a dozen people, their faces lit by the lanterns they carried. Relatives. Servants. Household women with their sleeves drawn close. And at the front, {{user}}'s uncle.

His face assumed an expression of theatrical shock.

Daiyu said.「Someone sent a messenger saying that our relatives wanted to see us. This man was already here. We were leaving.」

The uncle looked at the man, then at Daiyu.

「In the far garden, at dusk, where no one would think to look. That is a strange place for a conversation.」

「She is telling the truth!」Zijuan stepped forward.「We were summoned. The gate was open. This man—」

The uncle said.「Perhaps you is the one who arranged all of this. A loyal maid, carrying secret letters, arranging secret meetings. It is a familiar story.」

「That is absurd,」Daiyu said.「I have never seen this man before tonight. I do not know his name. I came here because I was told to come. If you wish to accuse me, then produce a witness!」

The man who had been waiting in the garden suddenly dropped to his knees.

「Please, please let her go!」he cried out, his hands clasped before him.「We have been meeting here for months! She said no one would see us. She said the maid would keep watch! We love each other! My conscience—」

He pressed his forehead to the ground.

「She is not the cold thing she pretends to be! She is fire! Her little cunt grips, and she weeps with pleasure! She begs for more! She clings to me and cries out like a woman possessed! I am only a man—how could I refuse her? Lovers will eventually be united. Please grant us your blessing!」

The crowd gasped. Some of the women turned their faces away. Some of the men leaned closer.

The uncle held up a small object.

「This was found in your rooms,」the uncle said.「Hidden beneath the mattress. Wrapped around this ring. Explain yourself! If it's not this man, then it's someone else!」

It was a man's jade thumb ring, dark green, wrapped in a woman's silk handkerchief. The handkerchief was pale green, embroidered with a branch of plum blossom. Daiyu knew it. It was hers. She had left it on the writing desk two days ago.

The kneeling man looked up, his face a mask of tear-streaked relief.

「Oh, so it was here! I thought I'd lost it. I didn't know you liked me so much, keeping my things hidden away!」

He crawled forward on his knees, reaching toward Daiyu.

「Do not touch her!」Zijuan's voice cracked.「This is a lie! All of it! Someone put that ring there. Someone who wishes to see her ruined! Uncle, you trust a stranger so easily. I want to ask you why?」

The uncle's eyes flickered.

He turned to the kneeling man, and his voice hardened into something.

「You say she gave herself to you. But what proof is there beyond your own filthy words?」

He took a step toward the man.

「If you are not a lover,」the uncle went on,「You are an intruder. And an intruder who sneaks into a private garden after dark may be beaten to death on the spot. The family would be within its rights.」

「No—wait—I am not lying!」The kneeling man scrambled forward, his hands raised. 「I can prove it! I know her body! I know every part of her! She has a mole, a small dark mole, on the inside of her left thigh. High up, near the place where her leg meets her hip. I have kissed it. I have touched it with my tongue. It trembles when she is close to spending. If I am a liar, how could I know that?」

He turned to the crowd, his voice rising.

「I risked everything to date her! And she turned her back on me! I'm going to sue her! I'm going to expose this despicable bitch!」

「Search her! Let the senior women of the household examine her.If it is not, then beat me. Kill me. But I am not lying!」

The crowd erupted into whispers.

The uncle turned back to Daiyu.

「You see,」he said.「It is not I who accuses you. It is this man's own confession, and the proof he offers. But if you refuse...」

Daiyu stood with her hand pressed to her chest.

「I have no...」she said.

「Then you have nothing to fear. Let the senior women of the household look at your thigh. If there is... A wife who has been unfaithful cannot remain under this roof.」

The uncle said.「Then the family will have no choice but to present {{user}} with a bill of divorcement.」

「You planned this,」Zijuan said.「The guest. The ring. You planned it before we ever set foot in this garden.」

「Careful, little maid,」the uncle said. 「Unless you wish to be named as her procurer. The servant who carried the letters. The one who guarded the door. There is a word for women like that, and the world is not kind to them.」

He turned to one of the servants.

「Go to {{user}}. Tell them their presence is required in the western garden.」

The servant bowed and hurried away.

The garden was very quiet then.

Daiyu was trembling, but she would not let herself weep. She would not let them see her break.

Zijuan stepped closer to her, and their hands found each other.

And somewhere beyond the garden, footsteps were already returning along the path.

The main hall. Morning.

The hall had been prepared for ceremony. Ancestral portraits had been dusted. Incense burned in the bronze censers, and the smoke rose. The senior members of the household were seated in order of rank. Servants stood along the walls.

Daiyu was dressed in the severe black silk of a wife. Beside her, Zijuan wore a new robe of purple, trimmed with silver. She had been given it that morning. It was the robe of a woman being lifted out of service.

The uncle stood before them, holding a scroll. He read from it in a formal voice.

「In accordance with the customs of this house, and in recognition of her condition, the maidservant Zijuan is hereby raised to the rank of aunt. She will no longer serve in the inner chambers, but will take her place among the women of this family. From this day forward, the mistress and the former maid shall address each other as sisters.」

A murmur of approval moved through the room.「Our family has had a single heir for nine generations! It has not been easy, but this generation has finally fulfilled its duty!」

Zijuan's face was carefully blank. She looked only at Daiyu.

Daiyu's gaze was fixed on the space above the elders' heads. She had not spoken since the ceremony began.

The uncle rolled the scroll shut and handed it to a servant. Then he folded his hands behind his back and began to pace.

「There is one more matter,」he said.「A delicate matter. But one which the family can no longer ignore.」

「Daiyu health is fragile. Her body, by all accounts, is not suited to the demands of childbearing. Meanwhile, the lady Zijuan has already proven herself fertile. The ancestors have spoken through her.」

He turned to face Daiyu directly.

「No one blames the Young Mistress. She is what the heavens made her. But a household cannot be sustained by a wife who cannot provide an heir.」

He stopped and turned toward Zijuan.

「Zijuan has been living at home for several months now, and since she knows its rhythms, and since she now carries the next generation within her...」

「We believe it may be time to consider... a rearrangement. The lady Zijuan, as the mother of the future heir, would be better suited to serve as the head wife. The Young Mistress, if she wishes, may remain in the household as a secondary wife. Her position would be preserved. She would be cared for. But the title of furen—」

He gestured to a servant, who stepped forward with a lacquered tray. On it lay a ring of iron keys, a set of bamboo tally sticks, and a folded ledger.

「These will now pass into the lady Zijuan's keeping.」

The relatives had no objections. They had been waiting for this day for a long time.

「No!」Zijuan rose to her feet.

She said.「I will not take her title. I will not let you demote her while she is still breathing. If you try to make me the mistress of this house, I will take my child and I will leave, and you will have nothing.」

The room erupted in murmurs. The matriarch half-rose from her chair. Several of the women rushed toward Zijuan, their hands fluttering.

「Your condition!」one of them cried.「You must not excite yourself! Think of the child!」

Zijuan said, and her voice cracked.「I will not raise my child in a house that treats its mistress like a worn-out garment, to be set aside the moment a newer thing appears.」

She was trembling now.

Daiyu, still kneeling, looked up at her.

「Zijuan,」she said quietly.「Listen to me.」

Zijuan's head turned sharply toward her.「I will not listen to you either.」

Daiyu said.「I am telling you what I have already decided.」

She rose slowly, her thin body swaying for a moment before she steadied herself. Then she faced the assembled relatives.

Daiyu said. 「She is better suited to be the wife of this family. She is stronger than I am. Healthier. She can give this house what I cannot. If the ancestors have chosen her, then I will not stand in her way.」

She turned to Zijuan.

「You are no longer my maid. You are the woman who will carry this family forward. And I would rather see you honored than see us both destroyed by my stubbornness.」

Zijuan's face was streaked with tears now. She shook her head, over and over, as if the motion could undo the words.

「I will not take your place,」she whispered.「I will not. I would rather die.」

Daiyu said.「You will be the mistress of this house, and you will raise your child in the light. That is the only thing I want.」

The matriarch, who had been watching with narrow eyes, stepped forward.

「This is very touching,」she said.「But the excitement is not good for the child. We will discuss this matter further, in private, when the lady Zijuan has had time to rest. For now, the two of you should return to your rooms. The ceremony is over.」

The uncle opened his mouth to object, but the matriarch silenced him with a single look.

「Take them back,」the matriarch said to a cluster of maids.「Bring warm tea. Make sure the lady Zijuan does not overexert herself. She is carrying the future of this household. 」

The maids rushed forward, surrounding Zijuan, their hands gentle. Zijuan resisted for a moment, her eyes still on Daiyu.

Daiyu followed, walking slowly, her face empty.

---

The inner chamber. Afternoon.

Zijuan stood near the window. Daiyu sat on the edge of the bed.

Then Zijuan turned.「You cannot just give it all away. 」

「If they cannot take it from me, they will find another way. They will use you. They will use your child. They will turn this house into a battlefield, and I will be the first to fall.」

Daiyu said.「But if you are the mistress, then you are safe. Legally. Do you understand? I am giving you the only thing I have left to give.」

「You have not been my servant for a long time. You are the only family I have. If being the mistress is what keeps you alive, then you will be the mistress. Even if I have to kneel before you myself.」

Zijuan crossed the room in three steps and knelt before her.「I will never let you kneel. Not to me. 」

They stayed like that for a long moment, the light fading beyond the window.

Daiyu reached out, and with two fingers, very gently, tilted Zijuan's chin upward until their eyes met.

Her thumb brushed away a tear.

「Tell me he did not hurt you, Zijuan.」

Zijuan pressed a hand to her belly.

「I was afraid, Miss. Afraid that if the master’s bed stayed cold, he would find another, and we would both be turned out. So I... I did what I thought would keep you safe.」

「But I never let him finish inside,」Zijuan said, her voice trembling. 「I refused, every time. But one night, after it was over, he used his fingers instead. He said it was only to comfort me. I did not know... I did not think...」

She closed her eyes.

「It only takes a little. That is the cruel part. A little warmth, a little time, and everything I tried to protect is undone.」

Daiyu stared at her for a long moment. Her lips parted, then closed again. She looked, for once, completely at a loss.

「That sort of thing...」she said.「If you ask me, how would I know? I always assumed children simply dropped from the sky. I never imagined there were so many steps in between.」

「No, it is not like that,」Zijuan said, almost automatically. 「First you have to put it in, and then—」

Her face, still flushed with tears, went pale and then red again.

「I...」Zijuan whispered.「You should be angry. I know it was wrong. Even if I told myself it was for you, it was still behind your back. 」

Her hand pressed against her belly, and her voice cracked.

「I do not care what you did,」Daiyu said softly.「I care only that you were not hurt. Did he ever force you, or treat you cruelly?」

Then, from the corridor outside, the sound of footsteps.

Zijuan's eyes moved to the door, and something in her face shifted—exhaustion, resentment, and beneath it, a strange tenderness.

「He is back,」she said softly.「Let us see what he makes of the mess he has caused.」